lessons from a mountain bike
I’m hurling down a steep descent, gripping the handlebars of the hunk of steel beneath me and roots, rocks and trees blur past. I’m trying desperately to remember everything I’d been taught to do: look ahead, relax, watch for rocks as you pedal, don’t hit a tree, don’t look down, don’t hit the front break too hard, remember what leg to have down on the corners.
I’m quickly consumed with the overwhelming sense that I’m losing—no, by this time I’ve lost—control.
Instinctively, I slow down and then stop. My breath is heavy and my heart is racing. I look behind me at the terrain I’d just covered (whoa! I rode down that?), and then I look ahead and assess what’s coming up.
It only takes a few minutes for my breathing to calm down and my heart to settle into a more relaxed beat. The adrenaline slowly leaves my system and my mind clears.
I sit back on the seat, point the front tire downhill and breathe in one more time before taking off again to meet up with my friends. This time I’m not going quite so fast. And I’m not merely hanging on for dear life. I’m enjoying the rush of the wind against my cheeks. I can smell the damp soil of the loamy trail mingling with the pine trees.
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