Audax - night riding/sleep deprivation/tiredness/possible calamity and individual awareness.
I remain unsure on which category to post this or whether I should even post it at all.
It might induce some judgement and mud-slinging, and that's fine..although a response from me may not be forthcoming.
The ensuing could well sound a bit self-indulgent, and it probably mis, bit it does have a wider relevance to anybody who rides long distance. And then drives home.
Last week I rode The LWL400 Audax - an excellent route, with three feed stops and organized by the eminently capable Liam Fitxpatrick. Many thanks to him and equally so to all the helpers at the start, Islip, Chepstow, Lambourn and the finish. I decided to leave my mates Ice trike at home and ride my trusted 1984 yellow Peugeot. I had a tough time of it, both mentally and physically. Several previously conquered large hills were walked and I've never used the granny gear so much. It felt like the hardest ever version for me, and I've done six of them over the years. Inner dialogue was not going well. Anyway, I finished the ride in 26hrs, got back to Chalfont at 8am. After a toasted sandwich and some bean chilli, two cups of tea, and a bit of a chin wag I set off From St Peter about 9am Sunday morning for a drive of about seven miles to Chesham - a drive I've done on all previous versions of this ride. I managed to get home, still in full cycling gear......not in 10 mins, but five days later. The drive home took me via Stoke Mandaville Hospital.
So....there was I, about a mile from my front door, coming into Chesham, without warning, from a state of moving along [well within the speed limit of 30mph..i was subsequently reassured by a witness), I was shocked by an almighty bang, breathing black oily smoke, barely able to see through a thousand silver stars, two inflated, (then punctured) air bags, and profound metal confusion, ....I sat there, utterly stunned, dazed, and gradually realized what had happened - I'd dropped off, completely gone, and driven into a large concrete wall/pillar on the nearside. I tried to move my legs, luckily they seemed ok, but had excrutiating pain over the front of my body. I could just open the door....did so and virtually fell out of the car.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/MEJYxMBSU3NVfnWd9At this point, A man called Dan, Dan the runner Man, was out on a morning jog, saw all this happen, came running over, saw what kind of a state I was in, and called the emergency services. Dan is not a local man, he was down from the north visiting family for the weekend. I've thanked him enough times already, but once again, thank so so much for all your help Dan. People started appearing from all over the place......guy on a motorbike was passing, he was a first responder, so he took over the thankless job of telling traffic in both directions that they had to turn round because I'd blocked the road, a cyclist came by, he was a doctor, but by that time the on-duty first responder had arrived. Sum total of services arriving were three firemen with fire engine, a first responder, two police officers and an ambulance with three medical staff. The road was probably closed for a good hour - much to the delight of anybody who happened to be out driving.
The first responder was quite thorough in her tests, and thought I may have had a heart attack after a suspect ECG, but that was later discounted at the hospital after various blood tests and ECGs. Dan retrieved my phone and keys from the bike, the police took a statement, produced a breathalyzer and sorted out the vehicle disposal, the fire brigade weren't needed as oily smoke didn't transform into anything more serious, and eventually the ambulance took me off of to Stoke Mandaville for a check over.
There was one point as I'm lying on the wall [too dizzy to stand or sit], looking over at all 6 emergency service personal encircling me, and they start probing, asking questions as to what I'd been doing - and it's at this point that I'm overcome with quite a strong sense of guilt and shame. I tentatively unfurl details of the previous 24hrs - which basically entails riding 400km, being awake all night without sleep, arriving back only to then get behind a steering wheel to drive home. It's important to emphasize that nobody looked to give me a hard time here, all they were doing was looking to ascertain what had happened but it's almost like any judgement they may have had about what I was describing I was feeling it for them!!! I felt very uncomfortable - beyond the physical that is. I started to feel bad. I've done nothing wrong, broken no law, but felt bad because maybe there was an inner realization that I had pushed my luck, and maybe listening to my own explanation it just didn't sound good. If that didn't sound good imagine how I felt when asked if I was wearing a seat-belt? I'm going to leave that one there I'm afraid.
So arriving at Stoke and now it's time to dispose of any notion of time and see where things take me.
So, time passes, a couple of x-rays, a CT scans reveal a broken collarbone and fractured sternum - the latter is the most pain I think I've ever known. But.....it could have been worse. A lot worse. The staff at SM were a little concerned with damage to the heart, but subsequent to various blood tests and further ECGs all seemed to be ok. Five days seemed like a long time, but I was happy just letting time evaporate and giving over to whatever comes to pass.
I have an honours degree in psychological and emotional self-torture and on that first Sunday night I lay there, in the CDU, recoiling from pain like I'd never had, listening to the sound of various machines either beeping, of just emitting a quietly distracting noise, thinking how fortunate I'd been, and how I could be so easily have been looking at a manslaughter charge...plenty of cyclists around, Dan the runner....dear god, it just at doesn't bare thinking about. I was later lectured by a senior nurse to not engage in such catastrophizing, but we are who we are and our minds are what they are. Logically, she is right of course, and other than lessons learnt, there is no other benefit to recollective self-punishment insinuated by running over potentially horrendous scenarios that didn't happen. But I can't help but go there. It's just who I am. Would I come back here and submit this post if I'd ploughed into a group of cyclists? 'Go figure' as the Americans say.
So what of all this? Does this story have any value or relevance to anybody else?
Well, apart from the obvious non-negotiable seat-belt issue [and I'll pay dearly for that], the question is: when do we know it's safe to drive after a long bike ride? Equally ambiguous is the answer: it all depends. It's about individual awareness and inner self-knowledge about how you're feeling at any given time. And it's going to vary. It's going to vary with age, fitness, ability, experience but I do think the older you get the more vulnerable you are to not being able to stay awake. Equally important is the amount of residual tiredness you might bring to the start of a ride. I'm 65 and still doing a manual job. That's fine, but it cannot be the same as a 35 yr doing the same kind of work. If I travel any distance to anything over 200km, I will always, without fail, have a kip in the car..and I'd prepare before hand - foam mattress in the back of the estate etc But there is a grey area, and this is mine - a few miles from home, 10 minutes drive...get back, have a kip. Sounds reasonable, right? Well, I've done just that on 7 different occasions with this ride and no problem. Until now. But you have to say that stories like this are mercifully uncommon in the audax world, so we assume from this that most people are sensible and know what they're doing and what they shouldn't be doing.
So, it's a hardly a brand new lesson for me, but just a harder look at myself about what is going on. A really hard look.
But there were seldom any obvious warning signs before I set off. However the more I think about it, I more I can't help feeling it had more to do with a kind of glucose dump after the food at Chalfont. It just seemed so quick, so instantaneous, that coupled with the obvious fatigue just sent me right out in a flash. Under normal circumstance my blood sugars are fine. Had a full blood test a couple of months ago.
But there is gratitude. Gratitude for not involving anybody else and gratitude for being cared for in the way in which I was.
In conclusion, I am fortunate enough to say there's always a smile along the way....
Like a line lifted right out of Straight Metal Jacket, a line that will remain with me forever and a day, came about on 5.30am Tuesday morning- a nurse with a beaming smile comes bouncing into the room and says.....
"Good morning Sir, how are you today? - would you like some morphine before breakfast?
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