The good, the bad, and the not broken. The 12 Hours of Hanson Hills

September 2, 2017

Last weekend I competed in a 12-hour mountain bike race (the 12 hours of Hanson Hills) as a solo entrant. Leading up to the race pre-registration had been quite low but I was hoping the forecast for beautiful weather would bring out the day of racers. Unfortunately, the pull of a long Labor Day weekend won out for most and I was the only person in my age group, in fact I think there were only 6 solo racers overall (there were a few more 2 and 4 person teams). When the race started I took off to an early lead and settled in to a comfortable pace and prepared myself mentally for a long lonely day. The idea of riding for 12 hours by myself made the first 2-3 hours quite difficult as I really had no motivation since I had “won” my AG after finishing the first lap at 44 minutes so I needed to set some goal for myself.

The good news is I had plenty of time to come up with something and reassure myself it was a good plan. So as I am riding along my thought process went something like this: My most intense race of the year is in three weeks and I am still a bit worn from 130 mile ride the weekend before. I do not want to overdo it today and pay for in later so I will complete 10 laps (about 105 miles) at a moderate pace, putting out a little less of an effort than I normally would for a 100 mile mtb race. That will make this a good ride without being too taxing on the body.

This plan was working great until about mile 87 when I came to a short steep downhill section with a sandpit and sharp right hand turn at the bottom. Having been through this section 8 times already during the race (the laps were just over 10 miles long) I thought I had a pretty good idea of which line to take but I cut a little too far to the inside of the trail and on to a bunch of dried up leaves. As I started to try and turn my front tire had no grip and I kept sliding straight – right towards some very large trees. Instinctively I leaned a little harder into the turn and turned my bars a little more and my front tire found purchase just in time to send me hand first into a smaller tree on the inside of the trail. The knuckle on my index finger was the only part of my hand to hit the tree followed shortly there-after by my shoulder which was followed in turn by me flying one way, my bike another, and somehow while in the air I saw my sunglasses flying yet another direction. I landed flay on my back off to the side of the trail, luckily no one was around to see just how badly the tree had beaten me. I got up, moved all of my limbs to make sure nothing hurt more than it should have and then grabbed my bike. That was when I noticed the shooting pain in my knuckle.

After checking my bike and determining there was nothing wrong with it other than my brake and shift lever on the right had been pushed down I got back on and set off. With the position of my levers it was hard to reach them in general so I tried not to use them much for the last 2-3 miles of the lap. When I got back to the pit area I fixed the position of the levers and again had shooting pains in my knuckle but I wanted to do one more lap to hit my goal so back on the trail I went. With the repositioned levers I realized just how little my index finger wanted to move and how ineffective it was at pulling the brake lever, no problem, I have three more fingers that can do that job. I finished lap 10 with nothing exciting other than not wanting to shift or brake and was ready to call it a day when the team I had been camping next to the night before asked if I wanted to join them for one last nice slow lap, which I thought would make for a nice cooldown, and it was, but again shifting and braking with my index finger were not really options.

Now I really was ready to call it a day. I went into the lodge and took off my glove to assess the damage, and it really was not very pretty. My knuckle was rather swollen and some interesting colors I do not think it was supposed to be. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. So I went to my tent hoping it would feel better in the morning; it did not.

Now to make a long story not so long. I drove home Sunday morning and sent my wife a picture of my hand (she was one of those who answered the call of a long Labor Day weekend) who insisted I went to urgent care. At urgent care they took and x-ray, then the PA on duty told me he was not a radiologist so he was going to treat it as if it were broken but he did not know if it really was and told me to see my primary care physician once I was able. Great. Now less than three weeks until the race I have been dreading, I mean looking forward to all year and I have no idea what type of condition my hand is in.

One of the joys of having a mother-in-law who is an OR nurse is by Monday I had an appointment scheduled with an orthopedic surgeon who specializes in hands for Wednesday. Wednesday comes and I head to my appointment where much poking, prodding and bending ensues only to be followed by more x-rays and waiting.

The good news: nothing is broken and all the tendons and ligaments appear to be in good shape.

The bad news: I have beaten and battered my hand and the doctor tells me it is going to hurt for a while

More good news: The doctor said I am cleared to get back to life without a splint on my hand and I can do whatever does not hurt, but I need to ease back into it and she did not see any reason I would not be able to race in the now 2 ½ weeks until race day.

Time to hit the tissue rejuvenator and the trainer, I have another race coming up.