mx775

Everything was falling into place Sunday. My bike was running well. I had just finished a moto in the afternoon heat. And the first night race of the year was just five days away. I was happy.

Then I hit a rock.

It wasn't a big rock, and I didn’t even fall. But when I put my foot down to keep from falling, it struck the ground at a strange angle. I realized immediately that something was wrong. But then I went into a state of delusion.

Realizing that a hurt foot could put me out of contention for the weekend, I grabbed a handful of throttle and tried to keep going. The pain in my foot grew sharper, but I told myself You can’t be hurt if you’re still riding and looked ahead. I hit the next jump and landed with another burst of throttle for the following straightaway, but by this time I was favoring my non-injured foot. I took two more turns half-heartedly then rolled to a stop, trying to return to rationality.

It’s strange how far you can go in pretending an injury doesn’t exist when that injury threatens to ruin some plan. In this case, I was trying to finish a moto with an obviously damaged right foot because I was getting ready for Gardnerville. If I stopped, it meant I was hurt and that I might not need to get ready for Gardnerville after all. I couldn’t accept that, not even as I realized that my foot wouldn’t hold my weight.

By time I reached the truck, I knew I was at least done for the day. I broke my other foot just over a year ago, and the feeling was similar. After being on top of the world ten minutes earlier, I was dejected. I had a strong feeling that I was out for the weekend--a weekend I had been looking forward to.

I went to the hospital Monday morning to get it X-rayed. That’s when I got surprising news: there was no break. It was just a sprain, which meant no follow-up visits, no walking cast and, best of all, no four to six week healing period. The doctor said I should be better in two to three weeks and suggested some exercises that could help my foot heal faster.

And there it was: relief. While I still may not make this week’s race, the reprieve I got from the usual broken-bone routine was enough to make me appreciate my relative good fortune. In short, I was reminded how important the promise of riding is to my sanity.

It never occurred to me that an ill-positioned rock could make me appreciate motocross more. But considering how thin the line between good and bad fortune in motocross is, and how long I’ve been at it, maybe it should have.