This past weekend, I rode in a long-running, top-secret cyclocross race series, known only to a chosen few as dfL. A hundred or more crazy 'cross racers gathered in a park in San Francisco to bang around a makeshift race course, drink some beer, oh, and cross dress. (You can read more about dfL from the excellent folks at Cyclocross Magazine.) It was a fun day out, especially since Kristen, Kate, and Paige made it over to cheer me on. There's something unbearably wonderful about your three-year-old holding a sign that says "Go Daddy Go!" to motivate you as your heart rate is pegged well over your anaerobic threshold. Especially when you're wearing a pink dress.

The course was really challenging, especially since it was the third and final race of the series, and the course had sprouted some pretty deep ruts and holes. Just riding along would beat you up, and I had to constantly fight the urge to grip more tightly. It's one of those great Zen contradictions of riding off-road--you need to relax and loosen your grip when things get rough, letting the bike go where it wants to.

All in all a fun day. But.


But I took a pretty hard fall headed to one of the logs we needed to hurdle. My handlebars hit me hard in the left side, just under the ribs. I finished the race, but definitely notices that it was a little difficult to breathe deeply, and when I lifted the bike over obstacles, I felt a tugging on my left side.

Apparently, adrenaline was carrying me through. Because my ribs hurt like hell now. I've been icing them, going to see my chiropractor, trying to take it easy.

What's really frustrating is that I'm supposed to race in Cross Vegas tomorrow night, a big race that I've been excited about for two months. And I just don't think I can ride that way tomorrow with my ribs like this.

Which has left me really frustrated, and disappointed. I just want to go out and race and have fun and compete, and not have these setbacks. Because physically they're annoying, but mentally, I'm proving to be a little bit of a wuss.

AuthorMark McClusky