2011 Blogs
I had good travels over to the UK and Simon and Dan were sure to keep me from passing out from jet lag by taking me on a spin on the windy roads of Lincoln and pushing cup after cup of tea in front of my nodding space head. The next couple days were relaxing as I tried to feel normal from the jet lag. However this trip has been the hardest time change I've dealt with...even though I have slept fairly well, during the day I render myself useless...like trying to write on a dry-erase board with chalk. My head feels to be a helium balloon attached to a tenuous strand of degrading rubber band. Today is Thursday and 'they say' it's 1 day recovery for every 1 day of time change. Tomorrow is Friday, my 7th day here with a 7-hour time change, so I'm hoping I'll wake tomorrow with everything in tact.
On Monday Simon brought me to see the Dalby World Cup course. Fortunately I was one of the only people on the course. I say fortunately because it was an ugly sight as I couldn't get out of my own way. My legs weren't moving too fast but my helium head was scatteringly in tow of my body and my reaction time was way delayed. After being so jazzed about my new bike last week and feeling more confidence on trails than I've ever felt, it was frustrating to ride around with my head up my arse. Factor this in with some technical A-line features like I've never seen and the result is a killer bruise on my hip which gives me a beautiful left saddle bag, a plethora of other blue dots - some softball sized, some bouncy-ball sized, a broken saddle, and a very very achey body and black n' blued ego!
These courses are different. And that's why I'm here. Mountain biking as I know it thus far is dry and dusty, mostly fire road, big dry rocks, straight-up climbs while the sun bakes down. So far in my mountain bike career I haven't had to swap my oober-sunny Fire-Iridium Oakley lenses out for anything a bit more 'quiet'. I'd be blind with those in the Great North Yorkshire Dalby Forest. I realize that my definition of mountain biking has really been dirt or desert biking. Dalby is like forest biking. Any fire road here for me will be spent making up the time I lost trying to maneuver my way through technical bits.
I will openly admit I was scared of the course after Monday. There are tears of mine on the track. The trees heard American curse twang. I took a bit of the course home with me from endo-ing a few times. I was reconsidering my choice and decision to try to forge myself into a mountain biker and come to Europe to learn. But what I forgot in that last sentence were the words "choice", "try" and "learn". It's my choice to be here; I could be home riding the trails I'm familiar with in the conditions I'm familiar with. It's a trial - I cannot know what works for me and what doesn't, or perhaps what could work for me with some effort - without trying new things, changing aspects, and challenging my current comfort zone. Hell, I'm new at this and I don't even know exactly what my comfort zone is! And finally, learning...what better way to learn than through experience!? I am here to scare myself a little (or a lot) and learn how to ride in varying conditions, around different people, in foreign places. Fortunately for me I am very fortunate to have the sponsors and support of Crankbrothers and Ibis to be here. Thankfully I have the friends and help of Simon & Dan, the US Nat'l team, and my Westmeerbeek family to look after me. I have the bestest family and friends who truly care and who provide me with strength to stand up after humiliating crashes. And I have the equipment (and back-up equipment: http://bit.ly/moRhhU) to keep me pedaling post-crashes!
Tomorrow, Friday I will go back for another look at the course and in the evening is the Sprint Eliminator which takes place in the town of Pickering, weaving through streets, stairways, alleys, and gardens. Sunday is the World Cup.