Me and Prissy (my bike) before her virgin ride...It's not just the wrecks, because I really haven't hurt myself seriously so far. I struggle far more with things that I just can't seem to get right: like riding downhill...especially over roots, or turning a tight corner, or sometimes even riding a straight line. Momentum is my friend, but I don't seem to be able to see it. I really have to fight my fear, but it still often overrides my ability to think through and carry out what (theoretically) should work better than what I sometimes end up doing. For example, going down a steep hill with one foot unclipped and off the pedal. Bad idea: this keeps one of my feet down (and therefore more likely to catch the ground), my weight forward over the bike (instead of having my behind back behind the saddle which will help keep the rear wheel on the ground), and a death grip on the brakes. When I think about it , it clearly seems a good set up for hurting myself if I do fall...but though I "know" this, I still have problems with my form on downhills. I also have perfected the ability to make my rear wheel slide out from behind me because I am too afraid to let the brakes loose and just ride the hill. The one time I rode a particular hill successfully in relatively good form ("Kristi's High-side," we call it...in honor of my first attempt and dramatic fall), I wrecked at the bottom because I closed my eyes and went off the trail....
It's pretty funny...sometimes. Yesterday I was not having a "good" (i.e. successful) ride, was not in the moment, and was frustrated with the way my clothings was clinging in the heat. So, just after I started down some single track I decided to adjust my left sleeve with my right hand (<--note: important detail), while still rolling. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that means my left hand was on the brake...the front brake...the brake that stops you suddenly and can catapult the rear end of your bike and your body up through the air and fling you into the ground with the greatest of ease if not opposed by close attention and some rear brake action....and it [as if the brake had a mind of its own...] can do it in the middle of a clear stretch of trail with no obstacles. This is only the second time I have ever endo'd...the first time was during one of my first bike rides in grad school. I had to laugh....it was so ridiculous and so preventable.
I suppose my point with all of this is that I have not mastered my tendency to expect instantaneous perfection from myself. I've probably been on the mountain bike, on the single-track, maybe 20 times. It's a pretty unrealistic expectation that I get it all right the first time (especially considering that I was a very girly rider as a child and never did anything brave or even remotely stunt-like when I probably had the best motor-learning ability). It interferes with my ability to enjoy my riding sometimes. It also serves to discourage me from riding if I let it get to me, which is not what I want at all: I've wanted to learn to mountain bike ever since I heard about it. So, I ride despite my discouragement and fears. And I am trying to take this experience with me into my work with patients....just thinking about how incredibly frustrating it must be to "know" how to do something "simple" (let's say...walking) and not have your body respond the way you expect makes me recognize (a) how blessed I am to be fit and healthy at this point in my life, and (b) that any sort of new way of moving is going to take time, and practice, and failures, and successes until one gets to the peak that they are able to achieve. I don't know how "good" of a mountain biker I will ever be....I think it will probably be something I struggle with for a long time. However, I am beginning to think that it is good for me to fail...and to try to learn from that failure....whether I ever achieve success at being a good mountain biker or not.
