A month ago yesterday I had just arrived at work after a morning doctor's appointment and a quick stop at Office Depot on an errand for work. I had turned my cell phone off at my appointment and forgotten to turn it back on.As I climbed the stairs from our building's basement parking garage I was met in the stairway by a panic-stricken co-worker.I've known our company's dedicated and quite remarkable executive assistant for more than 10 years. Her calm demeanor under pressure is one of her greatest assets, especially in her role assisting an executive team that thrives on crisis and adrenaline.
But at this moment Michelle's eyes were wide. She gripped my forearm hard.
"Fred, Laura had a terrible accident on her bike! I've been trying to get a hold of you on your cell phone. She's at Methodist Hospital. Call Anna!"
My sister-in-law didn't pick up when I dialed her cell phone. Her home phone, too, went to voice mail.
Michelle told me that Laura had had an accident while riding by herself on a bike trail, so I knew there weren't any vehicles involved. But it was serious enough to require an ambulance.
Eventually I reached my sister-in-law and learned that Laura had fallen hard and probably broken her wrist as well as her hip. By the time I got to the hospital I'd had another conversation with Anna and learned that my wife had shattered her wrist and fractured her femur. Both would almost certainly require surgery.
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On Friday, May 9, Laura was finishing a solo training ride on the Cedar Lake Trail at near 20 mph when she dropped her water bottle after taking a drink. It's possible she ran over the bottle with her front wheel or she might have inadvertently turned the handle bars when taking a quick look back. Either way, she went over on her left side, landing hard on her left wrist and hip. After one cyclist passed her, curled up half on and half off the path, three riders stopped to help. She had somehow come to a stop laying on her right side and couldn't reach for her phone with her left hand because of the shooting pain in her left arm.
The three riders stayed with her during the 30-minute wait for the ambulance. Apparently the ambulance couldn't find a good access point to the trail. They told her had her injuries been more serious they would have dispatched the fire department as first responders, since they apparently have more experience along the trail.
In any event, she was taken to Methodist Hospital where they took x-rays and eventually called in an orthopedic specialist. Laura had shattered several bones in her wrist and fractured her hip. She went into surgery around 7 p.m. Four hours later they had inserted three massive screws in her femur (near her hip) and a plate with ten screws in her wrist. She was in the hospital for five days.
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It's been painful to see Laura so incapacitated. Anyone who knows her knows she can't sit still. As the mother of our three children (8, 5 and 3) she's always been extremely busy -- moreso, I think than most parents of multiples. She's an amazingly active and engaged mom, taking the kids on outings to museums, parks and other points of interest (typically several each day) and refusing to stick them in front of the T.V.
Perhaps the saddest aspect of my wife's accident is that she had just recently fallen in love with cycling -- fallen in love with it the way I did five years ago (which is to say, completely). She and I had done some social rides together, including several truly thrilling "bike dates" last summer. These dates were, surprisingly at the time, her idea, and involved hiring a sitter to watch the kids after dinner so we could ride around town (20 miles or so) before stopping for coffee or a glass of wine and dessert. We'd ride home together as the sun was setting, matching bike lights illuminating the trail before us. These were enchanting evenings.
Early this spring Laura decided to stop by the Velo Bella's season-inaugurating team meeting. The "Bellas" as they're known are a group of women cyclists who encourage and support other women interested in learning more about and participating in cycling. The group started in California but has developed chapters in a number of states. The Twin Cities club is one of the strongest all-women clubs in the area.
She returned completely energized. Within three weeks she had joined the club, bought a new road bike and participated in her first group ride. I hadn't seen her so excited since the birth of the kids. Our conversations began to revolve around biking. I would periodically look over at her with a puzzled look on my face and ask "who are you and what did you do with my wife?" We both got a good laugh about how rapidly she was becoming a "roadie" but I was genuinely so happy for her.
Laura hadn't participated in group sports as a kid so she hadn't experienced being on a team -- the camaraderie or the tension, the anxiety or the cathartic release . . . the addictiveness of endorphins. I say without condescension that she had a childlike enthusiasm that was charming and infectious. I was experiencing the love of the sport all over again. Best of all, it was bringing us even closer together. It was exciting to share a new passion after 12 years of an already wonderful marriage. We were like grad school students in love with learning and with each other all over again.
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Fortunately she's handling the experience, and navigating the recovery, remarkably well. Her positive attitude is really amazing to witness, and makes me ashamed at how grumpy I can get when facing much smaller hurdles (or more accurately, inconveniences).
I'll admit, it's been difficult for me to give up most of my own club rides. Last year I rode on the Flanders Bros. "Coffee Ride" (40-50 miles) most Saturdays. This year, with Laura riding on Saturday, I had the opportunity to ride the
hard ride -- Flanders' Sunday training ride. 100 miles or more at a stiff pace -- 20+ mph average for five hours. It was really pushing me to the edge of my ability just to hang on with this group (though there's a pretty powerful incentive to keep up when you're 50 miles from home and have no idea how to get back!). I had joined this group for three rides before Laura's accident and was feeling as fit as ever.
I've also had to put off until next year my plans to try my first criterium race. I still hope to enter a road race or two near the end of the season, but it doesn't seem responsible to attempt my first crit this year. All this family needs is a Mom with a hip fracture and broken wrist and a Dad with a broken collarbone, or worse.
But I know I have years ahead of me to ride, health permitting, and so does Laura. And this is perhaps my biggest relief: That Laura's still excited about biking after her recovery. She admits to pangs of nervousness at the thought of riding fast again, but who wouldn't be anxious after a fall like the one she took?
It will probably take a while for her get comfortable again riding hard and fast, down in the drops with her chin to the stem. Who knows, maybe she won't want to race or even join any more hard group rides. But we both know she'll get back on her bike, and I can't wait for the day when she asks me out on our next "bike date." Even though we still argue about who asked out whom 15 years ago, we both know she asked me to bike with her first. And I still know we'll ride off into the sunset together some day.
A few weeks ago I received a message from a colleague who runs a neighborhood environmental organization doing great work in our community. She forwarded on an e-mail she'd received from the family of a 14-year-old planning an ambitious trip in support of a great cause. Liza Stoner, an 8th-grader at City of Lakes Waldorf School in Minneapolis, will be riding her bike nearly 1,600 miles to Washington, D.C. to deliver a petition to Congress urging passage of legislation regarding electric vehicles.
