This has been a week of learning.
On Monday I learned that even on the nicest day, if you've had 2 days of mountain biking and have a bit of a sore knee, a day off is required.
On Tuesday I learned to dress waterproof style. I stayed very dry in my layers of waterproof kit, I probably looked like a right idiot but hey, I ride so fast no one even notices me anyways :)
Then on Wednesday I failed at not overdressing and had to sweat my way around the Staveley loop. But how on earth do you get it right anyways? I either wear way to much and sweat until my ass itches or I wear to little and shiver until my neck seizes in tension.
Then on Thursday I rode up Kirkstone for a second time. This time it rained, or poured actually and a trip down 'The Struggle' proved a bit to painful for my hands. The one great thing I have learned is using the F word to my advantage when trying to complete a steep climb. You can exhale the word FUCK so graciously and it just rolls out of your lungs therefore never wasting any of that crucial breath. I managed Kirkstone without my Guru as well, but I did have some pretty fabulous company. I have learned though that I am never going to be a pro racer, or even any sort of racer. I will keep my ability to a few sportifs and rides with friends and realize that swiftness is probably not my thing. So I will get up the climbs you may just have to wait at the top for me.
On Friday, with tender legs, I decided to mount the mountain bike and visit the other side of Kentmere. So the Guru (Paul) warned me a bit. Letting me know its a bit more technical then the other side and there are a few rivets, but its pretty grassy with a bit of mud in sections. Looking back on this advice I should have really pressed further for more info, but hey, If I had then this wouldn't have been as interesting as a read.
Well the other side of Kentmere is interesting. How the fuck do you ride in rivets and mud anyways!!! It wasn't mountain biking it was mud wrestling!! I did almost kick some serious ass on a rocky climb, only putting my foot down at the last pedal when I had a serious slip of the back wheel. It was entertaining (for Paul at least). The best thing is the grass, its so soft, so 5 falls on my ass meant it didn't really hurt anything but my confidence. And I'm not really quite sure how I fell. Just couldn't get going, to easy of a gear, a bit of a skid, and a fall over. Each time getting more and more frustrated. This is why swearing is a vocabulary required when learning how to ride mountain bike style. I think I may have scared a few sheep. I walked allot. Thank god for the best mtb boots I have ever purchased. My feet stayed dry even after wading through puddles and wrestling in the mud.
But I made it, and what did I learn from Fridays lesson? I think I will leave that ride alone until the mud dries, the creeks ease and I learn how to handle the bike in rivets. And to stay in on Saturday and rest your sore ass and legs of lead.
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