Or stitch or not to stitch, that is the question.  The week following treadfest I chose to spend off the bike, but this week I had regained the motivation to really put some time, power and effort into the pedals.  The after work workouts were made up and scheduled.  Put a good one in on Wednesday.  Set out to do another last night.  I had just gotten on the path and was spinning south along Lake Shore Drive. At Jackson there is an entrance/exit to the path and people were coming across the drive to get on the path. It looked like everyone was being cautious and waiting for me to go past. Well most of them. This girl cut out into the path to make a left turn in front of me to go the opposite direction. I did not see her until the last second, as she came around the group waiting for me and I hit her HARD. The powermeter caught it all in its' 3/4 of a second glory. 17.5 MPH to zero in about half a second. She hit the ground and I really thought I fucked her up. She was holding her face and moaning. We were both wearing helmets, but hers fell off at one point. It was great we both had helmets, I know mine has a huge dent in it. When she finally took her hands off her face, there was not any blood, thank god! The way she was moaning I was sure I broke her nose. She was okay, her bike was alright, I asked her if I was bleeding and she said no. Awesome, we got off easy. A lady that watched it happen made some cute comment about how since we were okay it might be a sign we were meant for each other. I muttered something about how that can't be, I am engaged and this girl said "at least we both have the same thing going for us."  She left. Well, I pulled off the path to straighten my front wheel and when I looked down at my fork blades they were covered in blood. I asked some random chick on the path if I was bleeding from anywhere, the right side of my head hurt pretty bad, and she said no. I gave myself a little more intense look over and realized that my glove was dripping. I took off the glove and when I bent my finger the knuckle just opened up. The cut isn't deep down, but it goes under the skin for a little ways. I put pressure on it and sat down to figure out what to do. Julie is gone, hospital? CRAP! I called my mom, who has seen me cut open more times than anyone can count, to ask advice.  I hate the hospital, my solution would be a band-aid, a beer and the couch.  For the first time ever I was considering hobbling my way to river north and the Northwestern ER. My mom said to keep it straight so that everything stays together and to stop the bleeding. She asked what I had at the house in terms of bandages and stuff. Offered to pick me up, I refused, she was going to meet me at my house. Problem is now my front wheel is off the bike, I had controlled the bleeding, but I can't get my bike rolling again. I waited for some cycle savvy looking dudes to roll by and I flagged them down to help me out. They got my wheel back on and I started riding home. Mom came all the way down into the city to see whether the smart choice would be to make a trip to the ER or not. She brought with all the appropriate medical supplies, fixed me up and I made udon for the both of us. I was super motivated to get these workouts in, and now I am off the bike. Time off only stinks when it is forced.  This is probably only dramatic for me.  I know it could have been a ton worse and I got off lucky, but it still stinks.  Here is to a trainer workout tonight.  80 degrees and sun tomorrow?  I am riding for hours on my bike regardless, I don't care.  The big picture actually doesn't look too bad, had I had a camera on the path I would have taken a picture of it opened up, it looked gnarly.