I COULD TELL HE WAS GOING TO CRASH AS SOON AS I HEARD HIS SIDEWALLS SLIPSLIDING AWAY. But, there was nothing I could do because I was right on his rear wheel. I hoped he'd scrape away from me or bounce off the trail. Instead, I landed on him and on my right wrist.
Not a scratch on me.
I popped up, mashed my cleats into the pedals and went all out for 5 minutes to get back up to the leader. Slowly the wrist's signals broke the news to me...
Hey Pal, it's me, your right wrist. We got a problem.
You mean, you gotta a problem because me and the rest of The Old Diesel are racin' so shut up and hang on!
Oh, I see what you mean. Well, I'll suck it up. But you'll be sorry-er, late-er.
Whatever Right Wrist, just do your job.
Sucks to go down, but it happens.
Sucks worse to not race, don't let that happen.