Week 20 (23-29 May):
Ultra hyped up during the week. Swam on Monday despite it being a designated rest day. Ran intervals, stairs and tempo the next 3 consecutive mornings despite it being an unadvisable thing to do - that's too much stress on the leg muscles and insufficient time to recover. Will I ever learn my lesson?
Apparently not, because I was taught another lesson on Sunday. Riding on a flat road at just 30 kph, I was resting my arms comfortably on the aero bars, charting my training regime while smiling to myself at the prospect of increased mileage and training sessions on a week long holiday, when I veered off the road onto the pebbled area by the side and in a desperate attempt to steer my bike back onto the road, I lost control and crashed superman-style, with my hands stretched out front; scrapping my chest, hands and knees as I landed with a great big thud that alarmed my two friends riding ahead of me who quickly turned around to my rescue.
Lying face down in the middle of the road, unable to move with Scotty on top of me, I peered up at two oncoming cars that screeched to a halt. Out came a big man who quickly ran towards me and lifted my bike off me. I got up unattended, relieved that I have not broken any bones, and sustained only superficial injuries.
My two friends quickly sat me down and took care of my injury, washing it with water and fixing my bike, joking and taking pictures of my wounds.
Through this experience, I'm further convinced never to ride alone, because there is safety and rescue in numbers.
But more so, I'm convinced by the value of my friendship with them who takes tremendous care of me at all times, whether I'm at my strongest at the peak of my training or I'm at my weakest, when I crash and tumble.
I'm thankful for men - for the capability and security they provide, and for the responsibility they take upon themselves, to look out and care for friends and fellow triathletes alike.