A Silent Night
Late last night I logged onto facebook to get status updates before heading to bed. As I was scrolling through the posts I saw this picture with a link to this story Lees-McRae cyclist Megan Baab killed in training accident | eNews.lmc.edu. I had to read the headline twice before it sunk in. The words didn’t seem right poised next to such a happy, smiling photo. I couldn’t believe it. I was in complete shock.
It’s always difficult when the cycling community looses one of their own. It’s a harsh reminder that what we do is dangerous. In some way, I think we always hope that the accident was caused by the cyclist so we can pretend that we have control over our fate on the roads. For Megan, this was not the case. Another college student fell asleep at the wheel and crossed the center line. There was nothing she could do.
I wasn’t close with Megan but we raced together my first year, before she cat’d up. That was when she was only 16 and looked even younger. She had the confidence of somebody years her senior and a personality to match. She was never nervous about lining up with the big girls and she held her own. She was a strong racer and was always one of our marks. Her dad was her coach and her biggest cheering section. He was at every race with her.
Last night was completely restless. I felt sick to my stomach and could not stop thinking about her dad and how big a part of his life she was. When I did sleep, it was in fits, with dreams about people close to me dying.
Now I’m sitting at work unable to concentrate on anything. I can’t find it in myself to cry about it so I just sit here feeling sick. I’ll start working on some code only to find myself feeling as if I’d forgotten something very important that I was supposed to be doing. There is great sadness in me because Megan is gone but the real pain comes from the realization that we really have very little control over these things. I can’t give up riding because of this accident or any other. I can change the way I ride, I can use my trainer more but accidents still happen and they don’t require a bike. I feel completely vulnerable right now and I don’t know how to move passed that feeling.
