One guaranteed entry to 2013 NYC Triathlon

Nice offer.

August 25th 2012 I am out cycling with a friend early in the morning.  It is a beautiful day, the kind that really makes you feel good about what you do.  This is one of the last big rides before my "A" race, Toughman on Sep 9.  I am feeling great.  We have been pacing each other on and off, its Paul's turn in front.  We crest a hill, hammering--my heart is pounding, I am sweating and my legs are just starting to burn.  As we pass a small gas station/convenience store on our right, I can feel Paul find another gear.  He had just completed IM Mt Tremblant, so he is in peak form.  

Suddenly an oncoming car guns it and tries to make a left into the gas station in front of us.  Paul goes down in front of me, time warps.  I feel myself being airborne, I can see very little.  I hit the pavement, hard and begin a long slide (26ft.).  It's amazing how much can cross your mind in so little time.  I think about Paul, what's happening to him; my bike, how damaged; my family--hope I see them again.  All the motion, careening across pavement, carbon and metal grinding stops.  I lay motionless.  In my peripheral vision, I see the yellow divider line in the road.  All is silent.  I know I have to get up and out of the middle of the road, but cannot will my limbs to get going.

Every thing snaps back to real time.  Paul is shouting, there is some guy standing over me.  My bike is on top of me.  The stranger reaches out to help me up; I wave him off.  I do NOT want anybody touching me.  My knee and hip are burning.  I shake my head, cautiously get up and grab my bike.  I am still dazed, but find my way out of the road.

Paul is still shouting--he's pissed.  Strangers are in my face trying to speak to me, but I cannot make out what they are saying.  The stranger from the road is trying to say something.  A man, the station attendant, asks "call the police?"  I look at Paul, his helmet is broken and his head is bleeding.  Yes--call the police.

I call my wife from the cell phone.  I have no idea where I am.  After more confusion, and Paul calming down I am able to figure out the address where I am.  This is a tough phone call to make.  "Honey, I fell.  I can't ride home.  I am hurt.  Just come here now."

I straighten out.  Paul says he is OK and sits down on the guard rail and begins to take assessment of his injuries.  The stranger from the road is asking, "how much does a bike like that cost?"

My bike!  I have not yet looked it over.  I turn, and a blinding pain shoots down my side and leg.  My left side gives way.  I am down in the grass, lying next to a guard rail.  My vision tunnels; I only see clear blues sky and summer sunshine.  I no long hear the commotion.  My immediate world is filled with the pain in my hip.

The police arrive.  An EMT arrives.  Paul is shouting again, "not me--him!"  I can see only blue sky and sunshine.  Some one blocks the sun from my face.  He is speaking to me.  "I am an EMT. Don't move." It doesn't matter what he says.  I cannot move anyway.

I am placed on a board of some sort.  Rolled and twisted, poked and prodded to get onto it.  I feel it lifted.  Still i only see blue sky.  I am completely immobilized.

My wife is screaming at someone, but I cannot see who or her.  There are many voices around but I am unable to assign who they belong to.  The sun is gone, I have been placed in the ambulance.  My favorite tri shorts are being cut away.  I am being wrapped in various medical paraphernalia.  I can hear the beeps and blips of the monitoring devices.  I ask, "my bike?" "Don't worry about that now," I am told.

October 2, I had my hip operated on to repair the damaged cartilage in the joint and clean up the head of my femur.  This is good news, as in the ER the thought was that my pelvis had broken.  The x-rays showed that to be false on the day of the accident, but the subsequent pain and MRI's indicated something was not right.  October 9, my knee was operated on to repair damage to my meniscus and patella.

I missed my "A" race, Toughman.  I missed another Olympic distance race 3 weeks later.  I have not ridden my bike or run since then.  I have 5 holes in my left hip and knee which are healing very nicely thanks to an excellent orthopedic surgeon who has a true understanding of sports and those who participate in them.  I have only had to spend a few days on crutches.  Physical therapy is 3 times a week, 2 hours each time.

I am lucky.  Many times I have read about accidents like mine where the cyclist never gets up.  Often, such occurrences are posted here on this board.  My bike: fine.  Only the bar tape is scraped, my body took the entire hit.  In the weeks between crash and surgery I swam and stength trained my upper body.  I am probably a better swimmer as a result of this accident.  My wife says I am getting "beach" arms.  My friend and cycling partner is OK.  He suffered a concussion and some road rash.  He has done two MS rides since the crash and a tough mudder race.

I am also angry.  I sacrificed time from family, work and almost all other aspects of my life to get into the physical condition I was on Aug 25.  Some one took that from me.  I will get it back, and more.  I am determined and have IronMan Lake Tahoe to look forward to.  I think I could have done Toughman in 5hr 30min.  I will not know for sure for some time, as I cannot do that race next year so close to my IM race.  Maybe 2014.

I have had many help me deal with this incident, and am grateful for that.  January 1, I will be back out there and I look forward to that day.  It is the last thing I think about before I drift off to sleep each night--regaining being me.

To my fellow triathletes: be careful and appreciate every moment you are out there.  There are many who cannot do what you do.

Thanks, for reading.  Andrew.

Andrew, that is a sad story thank you for sharing.  Best of luck with your recovery and getting back in IM shape.

Also you are an incredible writer, I felt like I was reading an action scene in a book!

X2

Hope you are able to get back out there and do what you obviously love to do soon Andrew.

Hello! I would LOVE the guaranteed entry.  I live in Fairfield, CT (just hit terribly but Sandy) so I'm only one hour outside of Manhattan.  I used to live in Manhatten for seven years.  I've tried the lottery but been unsuccessful.