Double Amputee

Modern medicince has made incredible advances in many areas of treatment including the amputation of people's limbs. Prior to the early 1900's those facing amputation surgery were forced to endure the procedure with nothing but a bottle of whiskey and a strap of leather between their teeth. I can't imagine the pain. Or can I...

Last night was the second and last Pre-Season Wed. Night Worlds Exeter ride. During the summer, a large group of cyclists depart from Exeter Cycles. These weekly rides do not technically begin until next week; however, Damien Colfer, a glutton for pain, took charge of oranizing two non-Exeter Cycle sponsored rides to blow the rust out of the knees. I missed the first one last week but was unfortunately able to make last night's ride. Unlike the normal Wed. Night Worlds, there were only six guys ready to roll: Dylan McNich, RKelly, Damien, Teddy King, myself and a guy whose name I can't remember. So, we got started. Heading out of town single file, I was still unsure how my legs would feel. I just finished a rest week of basically no riding. My high end fitness lacked a little...or a lot. And to top things off, I have a large chicken and pesto sandwich for lunch. THAT always looks better upon its resurrection. Anyway, we were rolling and the 2009 season was underway.

I have no computer on my bike. But, judging from my breathing and the pain in my legs, we were moving along nicely. Pull through, pull off, jump back in line. Repeat. With every turn on the front, I began to realize the pain in my legs was immense. I don't mean I felt like someone was punching me in the leg. I mean I felt like my femur was broken and the jagged edge was tearing apart my quad muscles with every pedal stroke. My legs were literally, okay maybe not literally but felt like literallly, being violently torn from my body. I became completely aware I might be left on the road in three pieces: my body, my right leg and my left leg. But, this was the Exeter ride. There is no stopping in the Exeter ride for pain. It's survival of the fittest. Those left behind are forced to fend for themselves and live off the roadkill as fuel for the ride home (one interesting though during this torture, with all the salt used on roads, do you think the roadkill is salt cured and able to stay edible for long periods of time?). So, despite my desire to stop pedaling and ride the solo ride to Exeter, there was NO WAY IN HELL I would let myself get dropped. And I didn't. And in the end I got a burrito to make everything feel better. The end.

So, if you're driving or riding in Lee/Newfields/Exeter today, please look for my legs. They are out there. Some where. Maybe laying next to a dead squirrel or possum. If they are found, hopefully modern medicine will help me reattach them. But, it is only April and I'm sure they will be ripped from my body many more times before this season is done and gone. Better go find a bottle of whiskey and a piece of leather...