TRUST

I didn't ride today but I felt compelled to write for two reasons. The first reason is that I'm selling my bike tomorrow. I'm trusting that a different one will replace it.

The second, and I think more interesting, is a connection I recognized when listening to a friend talk about the sport I love. "I don't like mountain biking, " she said. "I don't trust myself on the bike when the trail is narrow with speed and obstacles, " she continued. "I don't feel in control, " she concluded.

This is the same women that an hour before this conversation was doing handstand on her forearms without fear. She was the one encouraging me to trust myself in handstand without the wall. I was so afraid. Afraid to kick up. Afraid when I was doing it. . .I felt like my body was about to flip over. Where was the trust? All I had to do was breathe. Was I forgetting to do so? I wasn't necessarily out of control.

The unknown. It can be frightening and often difficult to trust. When something becomes familiar we know what to expect. We fear less. I've encountered this bridge before. It happens to me when I'm riding and something seems too big, too difficult. It happened to me in whitewater kayaking. I have never been that afraid in my life. I felt that the river was in control. As my skill developed I was able to bridge the gap between fear and confidence. I began to trust myself in situations that were previously filled with fear.

I would like to explore this more in yoga and to figure out how to articulate it to others so I can help them through their own fears in mountain biking and yoga.

Kickin' my own ass

I had thrown my singlespeed in the truck earlier in the day out of laziness. The lazy part was I didn't want to change the pedals on my geared bike so I chose to ride the singlespeed. When the time of the day finally arrived to ride I was racing to finish before dark.

On a trail that I can clean every technical spot on my geared bike I was walking sections and stopping to hang onto trees so I could suck in large gulps of air in an attempt to catch my breath. The last time I had felt this winded was when I red lined in a race in the mountains. Perhaps it was the discussion earlier in the day of signing up for the Downieville race that was pushing me to ride faster (and not the approaching darkness).

The Downieville Downhill registration opened last night.