I borrowed a friends compo once. The thing just said "go fast downhill, go fast on singletrack, just go fast", so I did. Faster and faster. The bike begged me to give it even more. I did. Sadly, I couldn't match the bike.
We leaped, the bike and I off a reasonably big jump, we flew, the bike and I through the air. We hit, a tree, me, not the bike. And we did a backflip, the bike and I. The bike flew off to follow it's own destiny, as did I. Thump, said I. "Eh?", said the earth, for I had fallen on it.
A party of walkers rushed over and asked me if I was OK and the rule is, always answer yes. If your leg has been left behind, it is only a flesh wound. I rode off smiling and laughing and thanking the walkers because this was nothing, nothing at all.
I returned home and checked the damage out. I'd been hurting, quite a lot. Looks like I have another life wound. My shoulder has been marked fgorlife, by a tree.