Slippery When Wet and Reader Poll

When I woke up this morning I thought I had the flu.

Or maybe I had been in a prize fight and had been pummeled so convincingly that I had no memory of the event.

I had noticed a little stiffness in my neck when I lay down last night, but upon waking, it was seriously one of those "WTF?" moments.

(For those readers of a more refined and gentle nature, "whiskey tango foxtrot" or "wow, the flubber")

I didn't have any of that awful disc pain referring to arms and legs etc. from when she who shall not be named sabotaged our SOMA bet by goading me into over training and rupturing my widdow neck disckies. But all the stability muscles that hold up my gigantic brain-filled dome, along with the lower back, were in painful seizure and rebellion. It was half-way through my swim this morning before I even figured out why. The puniest, most inconsequential little bike topple had given me a mild case of the whiplash.

Yesterday morning, doing an easy spin around the park, I forgot to keep the rubber side down. Actually, there was a very thin sheen of water on the road, enough to bring the oil to the surface, so that the smoothest parts of the pavement had the friction coefficient of black ice. Combine that with some fairly slick, high mileage tires and an effort to slow prudently at a stop sign, and there was nothing to be done.

I was slowing and probably moving at less than 10 mph when the back tire came around, cut in line, and decided it would like to proceed first down the road--sideways. The bike, Jessi S. Cannondale, and I slid down in a delicate heap. I landed on my bum and side, pretty well kept my chin tucked, and skidded along the slick roadway for a bit. No cars were behind me (thankfully) and if my head hit the pavement at all, I don't remember feeling the blow through my helmet. In fact, it was so inconsequential, I just picked myself up, remounted, finished the ride, and thought nothing more of it.

Until this morning, halfway through the swim when I finally went, "DUH. Neck hurts. Bike wreck. Nobel prize for medecine."

But I finished my swim.

And I hit my splits.

Because Coach Kris wrote it down in the plan; let it be written, let it be done.

Because that's the Ironman way.

Or at least it's the highly anal, lawyer-guy way.

To be completely safe (and to keep doing my bit for the economy) I should probably replace my skid lid, just in case it did whack the pavement as my head snapped back. So, again, if you ride a bike, it's time to weigh in:

What's the awesomest, iron-worthy, most legendary, bitchin' bike helmet on the planet? High viz is a plus because many of my rides during the week are before dawn.