For someone who rides bikes a lot you think I’d have learned not to crash by now.
No, no I have not. Not even close to it.
Normally when I come off I get angry. Very angry. Not at the bike. Not at the trail. Not at my skills. Just angry at myself. Why am I so crap? Why do I crash? Why are you destroying a perfectly good ride?
I shout. I curse. I get back on and I get on with riding.
This time was no different. I was riding fast. Following a wheel. Dedication to the line that is being drawn for me. Belief that I can do what was done before me. Trust in my abilities to realise and react. I was wrong.
A rock. A stop. A fall. A curse. A sore leg.
Two weeks have past and the pain has got worse. I’ve not rode in 9 days after realising that trying to pedal was just doing more damage. Off the bike for two more weeks by doctors orders. Compression, drugs, instage sedentary lifestyle until a scan can be done.
I hate knee injuries. But at least my bike is fine.