"WTF! You've set me on fire!"
"WTF! You've set me on fire!"
This was exactly what my legs screamed to my mind today.
My mind responded with:
"Oh, for f*** sake! This is a small rise, not an enormous and endless hill".
My body was in the middle of all of this. Listening with amusement.
Around 18 months ago, I attended a conference that featured a talk on brain health. It had me enthralled.
One of the key messages I took away from the talk was the significant benefits mountain bike riding has on your brain and mental health. The speaker pointed out that mountain bike riding enabled your brain to shut off to the noise and stress that many of us experience on what feels like, an ongoing basis. It shuts off the noise because when riding, you are so focused that you don't have time to think. You are focused on navigating your way, being alert for holes, branches, and any other potential hazards along the way. You are focused on gear changes, getting up hills, and making it through ravines. You are focused on water intake and staying in your saddle, as falling off would surely hurt.
I was sold! I had spent years trying to find a solution to quieten the constant noise in my head and had failed. Time and time again.
If I sat down to read or relax, the voice in my head would take over,
"You can't be relaxing. You need to do something. You need to do more...".
Here I was being shown a way to pause the banter. By this point, I would have tried anything.
The following weekend, off to the bike shop I went. The guy in the shop humoured me (well, kind of). I hadn't really owned or ridden a bike properly since my very early teens. I had a few failed attempts in my 20s and 30s, but they ultimately ended up being high-priced dust collectors that never saw the light of day. This time, I was committed. I was committed to my brain health, dedicated to improving my mental health, and committed to attempting to turn off the constant dialogue in my head, if only for a short period of time.
Lured by a black stealth-like bike (turns out it was dark green outside of the shop - damn!), with a lever to raise and drop the seat (not touching the ground was my greatest fear), a new "more comfortable" seat, a water bottle and holder, new pedals and gloves, I was set. My partner shook his head as he put the new prized possession into the back of his car. "Let's see how long this lasts", I could see he was thinking.
The next day, we were out early. I was a little wobbly at first, and had no idea about gears (hey, my BMX bike from the '80s had back-pedal brakes and definitely no gears), but my patient partner, knowledgeable in bikes, gave me wise and helpful tutelage. I found my rhythm and at times didn't even have my breaks on all the way down a hill. A huge feat! I did this after realising that breaking down a hill could also be as likely to cause a fall as speeding down the hill. A** over the handlebars is not how I wanted my first ride to end.
My heart was racing (which my watch confirmed). My elevated heart rate a healthy mix of exertion, fear, and excitement. I was loving the sound of the ground beneath me, the wind in my face and the clarity of my mind. They were right! I was so busy focusing on staying on the bike that I didn't have any time to think about anything else.
Back at the car, I felt amazing. We had covered over 10 kilometres of the vast National Park (yes, short for many, I know - but hey, baby steps). I had stayed on and become more comfortable with the gears and the seat, but most importantly, my mind had a break from the day-to-day worry and stress. I felt so grateful and exhilarated. I was definitely doing that again! Was I hooked? Not quite. But I was certainly open to spending more time on my bike.
We went out again a few weeks later and a few times after that, and then the bike hung in the garage and grew dust.
For the past 10 weeks, I have made a promise to myself. "This weekend you will go out on your bike. You need a break. Your mind needs a break", and for 10 weeks, I have broken that promise.
I have faced enormous challenges at work, which have required me to work six or seven days a week, leaving me with no time and definitely no energy to do anything else, let alone ride a bike. However, what has been the most difficult for me to accept is the constant promises I break to myself.
This really got me thinking. Why do I do this? I wouldn't break promises to others, so why do I break the promises I make to myself? This certainly wasn't the first time this had happened, but would it be the last time? Could it be the last?
This breaking of promises to ourselves, whether significant or seemingly insignificant, does build up. It becomes our natural default. Something else always seems to be more important than what we truly want or need for ourselves.
It happens when we put everything else before ourselves. It happens when we put everyone else before ourselves.
We put our jobs before our own needs. We put our responsibilities to others before the responsibility we have to ourselves. We invest time and energy in others without the same investment in ourselves. We treat others with care, compassion, and kindness —the same care, compassion, and kindness that we often do not extend to ourselves.
Today, I decided to keep the promise I made to myself and went out on my bike. For 17kms (yes, I have progressed), I was gripping ever so tightly to my handlebars (when I wasn't using one hand to rid my face of the flies using it as a landing pad). My legs were burning and my heart was pounding, but my mind...it was clear.
It was free from the stress and worry I had been experiencing. It was free from the thought of an overwhelming "to-do" list, and free to take in the beauty surrounding me and to enjoy the singing of the birds making themselves known to me as I pedalled past. My mind also had some time and space to come up with a product idea for people with a lot of hair to use when wearing a helmet, and the time to wonder if it already existed. I did, however, have to stop myself from whipping out my phone to ask my friend ChatGPT if it in fact did or did not already exist. Let's be honest, I didn't have a space hand.
For anyone who hasn't been on a trail before, whether on foot or on a bike, I couldn't recommend it more. The fresh air, peace, tranquillity and calmness it provides is truly captivating. But what strikes me every time is the friendliness on the trail. The people you come across are happy and obviously enjoying themselves. And for those (and there are genuinely not many) who aren't, I have no doubt they have more on their mind than a big ride could potentially reduce, but they are out there giving it a go all the same.
Today I learnt a big lesson—a lesson in keeping promises. I need to respect myself more and keep the promises I make to myself. I wouldn't break promises to others, so I need to stop breaking them with myself. It starts off small and can be easy to dismiss, but then we fall into destructive patterns and seem to do it constantly. We no longer look out for ourselves, do the best for ourselves, and we let ourselves down in a way we would never do to others. We lose sight of what we need most.
Today I made a promise to keep my promises. To stop letting myself down. Today is day one. Day one of many. I am off now. I need to pack a bag for the morning. I am off to the pool. A place I love. A place I have been away from, away from because I put other things first. Tomorrow morning, I am putting myself first, and it is going to hurt; it has been a while, but it is going to feel f****** fantastic at the same time.
What promise are you going to keep to yourself?
Bike Tips:
Buy a bike with front and back suspension. Mine is front only, and I have been getting a shocking headache from the beginning of each ride. This could be due to the constant bouncing around or the tension and stress I unknowingly put on my jaw and neck from fear. Could be both. Paracetamol does help.
Take the bike outside to check the colour when purchasing. When you want black, you want black!
Pack bug spray at all times. We seem to have a fly plague at the moment. Riding with one hand while violently shooing flies away from your face is rather hazardous for a beginner.
Learn to breathe through your nose, not your mouth. Yes, hard when dying up a hill, I mean, a slight rise, but back to the flies, swallowing one of those would be sure to put a dampener on the day.
A woman needs to design a helmet. Who wants hair on your neck? Not me.