Naked Women's Racing Blog

Race reports, training tips, and our ladies' lives on two wheels.

“And that kids, is why there is no Easter Bunny…”

Why do squirrels, prairie dogs and rabbits love darting in front of your wheel like it’s an evil game? Sometimes they don’t always win as Susan found out last week.

Oh…the hazards of riding. I really do love riding my bike on the road and on the dirt, but I really dislike crashing. We have all been victim to it and the outcome varies. Not to make light of serious situations, but sometimes you have to laugh and move on. I feel like my crash number has been up for the last few weeks by narrowly being hit by car and almost nailing a tree while riding my mountain bike. There have been other things, too; I mean it has come close several times. Whether it was a groundhog or squirrel or bunny, ‘tis the season. And every time it has caused my heart rate has to skyrocket in a manner of seconds.

Well, my number was called this week and not quite the way I was expecting.  It was a beautiful day, I had just finished a great workout and we were in a hurry to get home to make dinner. But somebunny had different plans for me; MINUTES from home a bunny, a rather large bunny, sprinted out of the bushes like Usain Bolt. I saw a fur ball out of the corner of my eye. Everything happened so fast; thump, flick, halt and fly. The thump was the bunny hitting my tire, the flick was his body being thrown in my front fork, the halt was his body jammed into my fork/brake and the fly was me performing a well-executed superman (without the cape).

Lying there on the pavement seeing stars, struggling to breathe and my husband runs up to me, asks “are you okay, can you move?”. Just as he bends down to touch me, I shout “don’t touch me”. I needed a minute to evaluate my body: left nipple feels like it’s been ripped off and I can’t take a deep breath (broken ribs??).  Then I blurt out “stop my Garmin”, my husband said, “seriously, that is what you are concerned with?” So I must be okay, right? I stand up and start pacing back and forth trying to get over the pain. Nothing appears to be broken and my left nipple, still there (thankfully). In complete shock, I walk over to my bike to see the little mother f@#*$er. Yep, sure enough there he was all tangled up in my bike, blood, guts, and fur all over the place…suddenly dinner doesn’t sound so good anymore.