Mountain Biking

Caloosahatchee Mountain Bike Park Alva, Florida

So for Christmas, my husband, an avid and skilled mountain biker, got me my very own Trek mountain bike.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about this gift.  He saw it as a way to go be together but the way my husband rides, I really didn’t think that was possible.  I’m an obliger, a member of the safety committee, self-help book lover, keeper of a self-help blog, speed limit or under driver, writer of grocery lists by aisle number, taxes paid before January 30th kind of girl.

A mountain biker…..not so much.  Other than wearing a helmet it goes against all of my safety protocols.  My husband assures me that the reason the bike was so expensive is that is can roll over anything.  Just hold on.  I too am telling myself that as I look down a rocky, root-laden hill and begin the descent.  Only recently have I even been able to descend.  Up until today, I mostly walked the bike down.  I hold the handle bars in a death grip.  My hands hurt worse than my legs or butt at the end of a day.

For me, it’s all mental.  I know the bike can go over the rocks, I know I have the skill level, I know I have the physical fitness but  it’s still scary to be in so little control of your life, I mean bike.  I think that is the crux of the problem.  I am the scheduler, planner, doer,etc.  Mountain biking is just letting go and finding a way to enjoy the ride.  I normally map out or plan out the way, not let a bike take me there.

Today, I started enjoying the ride and time with my husband.  I was able to look out and enjoy the pretty Caloosahatchee Park.   I even noticed things others than my own fear and the trail below me.  There might just be a mountain biker in me yet but it will take a few hundred more times until I’m confident.  I’ll keep honing my skills on those green trails.  I really do need those 10,000 to be proficient.

As scared as I am of new things, I’m always the better for it when I’m done.  There was a time in my life when the thought of running 26.2 miles was crazy.  I can remember finishing my first 5K and thinking how could anyone go another step. Yet three years after my first 5K I did run 26.2 miles.  I swore I’d never do it again and then did it three more times.  I’m not done yet.  Got my eye on one in December. It’s funny how after you do something you swore you couldn’t you do you start thinking of more.   I’m thinking for now that I’ll keep practicing and roll with it.  I’m sure my big tires will roll right over it.  I hope I always want to be a little more in everything I do and keep doing things outside my comfort zone.



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