I raced the ICup today. I had not one, not two, not three, but four bonafide crashes. I sailed over the bars at least twice. Both times I took the blind corners a bit too fast and ended up going off the trail and off the sidehill. I put in an extra 20 feet of vertical climbing back up to the trail. And then I slid out and bounced on the ground once. I can't remember exactly what happened the fourth time, but I'm pretty sure there was a fourth time. It's all a blur.
My right side just healed up from my Solitude crash, which left me with a bent crank, bent chainrings, and a few stitches in my knee. I still cringe as I remember getting launched off my bike when my pedal caught a rock, and then skittering down the trail in my skinsuit. You'd think that this experience would have caused me to check my speed today, but apparently not since I now have to work on getting my left side healed up.
The learning curve in racing mountain bikes is, as I've come to find out, a bit steep. Jonny imparted some words of wisdom as I was washing blood off my left arm. Staring at the scab on my right knee, he said, "dude, maybe you should slow down a bit." I think that's good advice.