The physical toll is bad enough: broken bones, crushed helmets, shattered carbon, stitches and road rash… crashing is never fun. Medical bills are expensive, but sometimes not as bad as the bike. My brand new carbon race wheels, Nooooo! The first few showers can be as painful as the crash itself. Scrubbing dirt and road grime out of your skin is just part of being a bike racer. And sleeping is the worst part, ironically. Your pus sticks to the sheet, peeling away the skin when you try to roll over in the middle of the night. And make sure you don’t roll over onto the wrong side, the one with the bruised ribs, or you’ll be wide awake, writhing in pain at 2:30 in the morning.
Crashing sucks. But along with the physical pain, I’ve found that it is the mental toll that affects me more deeply. Coming off a high of fitness and form, I come crashing back down to Earth in a deep depression, a shell of the rider I just was.
Riding my bike is what I love to do; but all of a sudden, it is taken away from me. I am at a loss, physical, mentally, and emotionally – If I can’t ride my bike, what the hell am I supposed to do? Depending on the injuries: Not much. Sometimes I can’t walk, stretch, or breathe without pain. So there’s nothing I can do but sit on the couch and mope.
Or is there?
***
After a crash, I don’t stop moving. If not physically, then mentally. I do everything I can to keep my mind occupied, my blood pumping and my body healing, my heart full and my motivation high.
I read books. I write (this, for example). I do puzzles, watch TV or Netflix. And get ahead on work (oh, I that should probably be the first thing I do. Whoops).
If I can move a little bit, I will. I’ll go for a walk if I cannot ride. I’ll stretch as much as I can, even if I can’t bend my leg. I’ll do yoga, as much as I can pain-free.
***
My advice to you: keep doing what you love, as much as you can in your current state. Accept everything that is, and do everything in your power to get better, to heal faster, and to come back even stronger.
Sometimes though, it is hard – obviously – but these are the experiences that make us stronger. It is not in success and greatness that we improve, but in the failures and challenges that we face.
I wouldn’t wish crashing on my worst enemy, but being through everything that I have, I am grateful. Crashing has made me stronger – it has taught me what real suffering is, what real challenges are, and what real emotional difficulty is. When you can’t put your pants on in the morning without assistance, you know what real struggle is.
I am who I am today because of crashing. Now, I am stronger because I have lived through crashes and injuries. And I am smarter because I have learned from my failures and mistakes. That’s what life is all about – every experience is an opportunity, an opportunity to get better, to challenge yourself, and to improve.
But in the end, crashing still sucks.