Post Ride Recovery... At the ER

 Thursday night was supposed to be just a typical night out riding mountain bikes with my husband.  Just us, our single speed bikes, and the some beautiful summer weather.  But that's not how it all played out.

We went to Murphy Hanrehan Mtn Bike trail to take on the fun and technical single track for our evening ride.  The trail was less dusty thanks to some recent rain and we quickly found out rhythm and flow on our bikes.  

They say bad things come in threes...

First, the battery on my AXS dropper post died, luckily leaving my saddle in the dropped position so at least I could take any position I wanted on each decent.  But, that called for even more standing than my single speed already asked of me, so Jay dropped his saddle for a bit to sympathy-climb with me.

Next, I made a decision to take a tight turn for an obstacle too late, washing out my front wheel and stopping my momentum by hugging a tree with my shoulder and neck.  With my head to one side of the tree and my right arm on the other, I rested roughly against the tender flesh of my neck.  I was more disappointed in myself for failing the turn and missing the obstacle than I was for coming to a stop on a tree.

Back on my bike, I took the next few turns a little easier, but got my confidence back with a few miles left of the trail.  We entered the Bird Sanctuary at full gas and I goaled myself to stay on Jay's wheel as tight as possible through the sector.  We were flying!  

That is, until something flew into my glasses, lodging itself between the poly lens and the lids of my left eye.  It immediately began stinging me as I screamed and clawed at it with my left hand.  I tried to stop myself with my right as I removed the violation from my face, but I wasn't stopping fast enough (we were going 15 mph when it happened), so I returned my left hand to the grips and grabbed both brakes with full force. 

I stopped my bike too fast and went over the bars, luckily landing in soft soil and low growing shade plants.  I was finally able to rip my glasses from my face and stop the stinging.  Jay quickly returned as I gasped what was happening and he checked me over for injuries.  I showed him where I was stung and my husband, quite possibly the sweetest man ever made, tried to suck the 'venom' out of my face on the side of the trail. Swoon!

I took a deep breath and a couple seconds to self-asses for injuries, then decided we needed to get back on our bikes.  We had about a mile and a half left on our ride and my previous two wasp stings this year were pretty rough on me with days long reactions and lots of pain and swelling.  I wanted to just get done.

We got back on our bikes and returned to about 80% of the pace we were holding, me being a little more hesitant about pushing the limits any further that night.  Within a few minutes, thought, things started to change.

It started with my butt crack.  I was riding behind Jay and noticed that my ass was starting to itch. What the???  Then it was my vulva.  A few more minutes went by and my arms joined in on the burning itch, followed by my legs. 

I started to realize that this was an allergic reaction.  One like I've never known before.  I was so glad when we pulled up to the van so I could jump off my bike and give it to Jay to load up as I scratch at my body vigorously.  We jumped in the car, headed to drop a wheel off at a friends house, then head home for dinner. 

The itch grew worse and I clawed at my hair as if I had lice.  My ears felt thick and joined in the tingling battle raging on the surface of my body.  I started to cough as I looked in the mirror at my swelling eye.  Each minute, a new symptom, so I begged Jay to stop at a pharmacy so I could grab and ice pack and some Benadryl. 

I walked through the store, grabbing supplies in a panic as my eyes and nose began to run and my breathing became laborious.  I must have been quite a sight!  Soiled knees, bloody knuckles from my crash, swollen face, runny nose and wheezing... oi!  I checked out and jumped back in the car, tearing open the Benadryl like an animal and took them as quickly as I could as Jay drove us to Shad's to drop off a wheel.

"My skin is on fire", I gasped out to Jay in the car.  But I tried to be tough and scratch away in silence from there. Until we got to Shad's driveway.  I looked down at the arms I had been mindlessly clawing at to see bubbles forming across them.  I zoomed my vision out, and saw the same oddities spread across my legs.  I interrupted Jay as he exited the car and held out my arms to him, "Jay, we need to go to a doctor."

We took off right away after a brief apology and got to the Urgent Care in Edina within minutes as Jay pushed the pedal to the metal and ran any light that we approached alone.  They were so backed up, they had turned off the lobby lights so they looked closed.  Which was good.. because that forced us to go to the hospital next door.

The lobby of the hospital was also packed, a few hour wait lie ahead, so I calmly tried to take as deep of breaths as I could as I waited in line.  When it was my turn with the intake nurse, I shared how I'd been stung and was breaking out in hives.  The nurse who stood behind her interrupted and asked me "are you having trouble breathing?".  "Yes," I gasped in response, taking another forced breath immediately after.  "I think I'm okay, but my chest is tight".

They rushed me in right away and got me onto the hospital bed.  In a flurry, a nurse was assigned to each arm as a kind doctor reassured me on what was happening.  "You are in anaphylactic shock.  We're going to give you a shot of epinephrine and [some meds] to help stop the reaction."  The nurse on my left inserted a line as the one on the right stuck with with a shot of epi which I could have sworn was administered with a straw the needle felt so big!

Jay helped answer some questions from one of the nurses as I balanced on the edge of shock, but the swift attentiveness of my medical team put me at ease.  As the fear faded from my body, the jitters of the epinephrine flooded in, the muscles in my arms and legs twitching uncontrollably as I shivered.

After a few minutes, my breathing became easier and my hives began to fade.  They kept me there for a couple hours of observation to make sure I didn't have a poor response to the rapid cocktail I'd been given.  The doctor returned to check on me, calm and nurturing a sincere part of her being.  She made eye contact with me and said, "I'm going to call in a prescription for an Epi pen for you.  Actually, two."  She said the next time could be worse, that these reactions build rather than one becoming tolerant.  I nodded my understanding and tried to let it sink in.

After a long, dramatic night, Jay and I returned home at midnight and ate some food as we tried to come down so we could sleep.  The mix of downers and epinephrine didn't disturb me too much, and I drifted off quickly but slept fitfully through the night.

The next morning, I walked out to the kitchen and stopped at the kitchen table taking in the site of my new prescriptions laid out for me.  Steroids, Benadryl, and a pair of Epi pens (+ a trainer pen).   It was a weird new reality to wake up to... "You need to carry the Epi pen with you at all times," I replayed the doctors words in my head as I turned the pen over in my hands.

Two days later, I still am in shock.  It still hasn't sunk in.  I don't even take my phone with me everywhere, but now life-saving medicine?  I've been very fortunate to be a pretty healthy person. But this one landed different on my heart.  It'll hit me.  I'll be fine.  I'm just not there yet.

Most of all, I am just grateful for my amazingly caring, understanding, and law-bending husband who took me at my word and got me to medical help.  I am so grateful for the nurse that saw me gasping for air and rushed me in, and the amazing medical team who took care of me with such grace, my fear was left at the door.  And last, I'm so grateful for my medical insurance, which made my new Epi-sidekick an easily affordable purchase.

Hug your people and trust your instincts.  They are the things that help keep you alive. 

Swollen but healing, 
Kristy Kreme

The tattoo survived....

When we signed up for Single Speed USA (SSUSA) early in 2013, I turned to Jay and told him I was gonna win it.  Not only that... I was gonna win it and get a sweet tattoo to commemorate it.  Jay, winner of Single Speed Worlds in 2000, has the victor's tattoo.  But in SSUSA, the traveling belt is the trophy.. but who says I couldn't get a tattoo anyway?

Fast forward to summer 2013... I won the belt! (race recap)  I got to emboss my name into it below the previous champions and take it home for a year on top.  Now, what's the tattoo gonna be?  Eleven months later, I gave my favorite tattoo artist Charlie Forbes at Leviticus Tattoo all my inspirations and 1/2 a dozen photos of the belt... what came to be was PERFECT!

What's funny about having a long-time friend as your tattoo artist is the mid-tattoo mini-pranks...

"What if we just stopped now and you can be the 'PEE' USA Champ?"

Nah, keep going!

Now that it's all healed up, it looks so much better than I ever imagined!  My own little homage to an amazing adventure, keeping that belt with me always <3 p="">

Since it's healed, why not jump into the South Side Criterium?  Sunday was a hot and humid day, perfect for sweating the day away on the bike.  This year, they decided to give call-ups to riders in the elite races, and I was honored to get an awesome call-up to the line.  Fifteen strong women towed the line and we redlined immediately off the start when Kelly went for it at the gun.

The first three laps or so we were strung out single-file trying to chase the new U23 National Champ down, careening through the streets of Minneapolis at blazing speeds.  The race came back together, but the pace remained high as other riders attempted to break away and the field rallied to close the gap.

Some lap past the halfway point, the game changed for me.

Luckily, my husband has been an amazing coach over the years and I am strong and confident in the corners.  I had been watching the pack during the race to know who's wheel to stay off of or who slowed in the turns to avoid getting gapped off during the group's surges.  We came out of Turn 2 (base of the hill) and prepped for Turn 3.  The rider in front of me began to slow as we entered Turn 3 so I took the wider right line to avoid braking.  As we exited the turn, the rider I was trying to avoid moved quickly into my lane.  I tried to swerve right to avoid her rear wheel, but she veered to fast and the spokes of my front wheel began to ting off her rear derailleur.

Ting

Ting

I thought I could pull out of it as it unfolded in slow motion...

But I was unable to move to the right fast enough.  My spokes wrapped around the rear derailleur and my front wheel stopped on a dime.  With hands firmly gripping the drops, I flipped over the bars.

From the bruises and road rash on my body to what I can remember, I first hit the pavement with my left lever, knee and hip with enough force to pop out of my pedals.  I flipped onto my right and continued to slide down the road away from my bike.  On my right, butt cheek and shoulder, I slid in slow motion.. I remember staring down at my shoulder and the road thinking "Stop sliding. Stop sliding".

I came to a stop and plopped my head on the ground.  Laying there in the fetal position in the middle of the road, part of me really didn't understand what just happened.  Linsay stopped her race and came to make sure I was okay.  A kind corner marshall helped me hobble to the side of the road as pain in my left knee was the first that came to my attention.  The sat me down as I began to assess the situation.

First thing I checked was my tattoo.  There was no damage to my skinsuit.. touching it didn't hurt.  WHEW!  Now the collar bones.. check!

The knees were scuffed and beginning to bleed.  Both forearms were missing a layer or so of skin.  I could feel the drips running down my arms but I was confused each time I looked not to see any major blood.  It wasn't til later that I realized that I was dripping with sweat!

I stood when I saw Jay come running and inquired about my bike.  Not broken, but the bars had turned 90 degrees, my saddle was sideways, the front wheel didn't turn.  As I inspected the amount of ass-cheek I was missing on the right, Jay did his magic and made my bike work again.  He urged me to ride out the rest of the lap to tell my Dad and Step-Mom that I was okay, then head to the medical tent.

I got back on the bike and waved my thanks to all the fans and volunteers to clapped in encouragement as I gingerly made my way around the course.  As I waved to my family, Jay returned and shouted out "Use your free lap!".  Without a second thought, I pedaled right passed the med tent over to the official and asked it I could finish the race.  They gave me my first ever free lap and inserted me back into the race between the breakaway group and the rest of the field.  I had three or more turns to get back up to speed and shake off the jitters before the group rode up to me and I jumped back into the pack.

The primes were over and there were no major efforts to bring back the breakaway, so I happily stayed in the pack and got back into my comfort zone.  My bike didn't like shifting, so I fought off the anxiety of listening to my gears skipping as we finished the last few laps.  As we geared up for the sprint finish, my bike refused to get into a harder gear so I did everything I could to finish strong.  I ended up 11th overall, 3rd in the Cat 3's.  Wha?!

The adrenaline from the crash kept me riding the waves for a good hour.  The worst of the injuries is probably my missing bum, followed by both forearms, both knees, a swollen and scraped ankle, and bruised hips.  The bike didn't break, but I damaged both shift levers, my right hood & bar tape, and my rear derailleur.  The skinsuit by Podiumwear didn't tear a bit.. maybe thanks to the fact that I was sweatin' buckets.. I just slid across the pavement like a high-speed slug.  Most importantly, during that slow-mo skid, I kept the tattoo off the pavement!

I always knew there was a chance of crashing in a crit, but I'd avoided it for all 6 years of my cycling career.  The biggest thing for me, though, was finishing.  Not only was it important for me to get back in the race and get over any fears that could have built up, but to show myself that I could physically do it!  And maybe a little of the "Half the Road" documentary stuck with me... it felt good to be a positive role-model for every spectator out there that could see that women can do it, we can fall down, and we can persevere.

Now, I guess I'll just take a couple days off to heal before getting on the training wagon for SSUSA 2014!  It's been awesome being Queen Bee for a year, but it doesn't mean I have to give it up without a fight.  Come on butt, heal up!!!

Huge hugs and thanks to Jay, Linsay, Casper, Eric, and the Corner Marshall for getting me off the road,  back on the bike, and bandaged up later.  You all made a scary experience much easier to handle.

Lots of love from Neosporin-Tegaderm-land,
Kristy Kreme