Have you ever had one of those moments when it dawns on you just how dangerous riding bikes can be?
As a mountain biker, I love to test my limits when riding off-road, but as I’ve aged, I’m certainly starting to become more reserved in what I will and won’t do on the trail – things can go wrong quickly, and with horrible consequences.
I’ve got a family to support, and I want to remain healthy and still be able to ride. Plus, I know for a fact that recovering from injuries, compared to when I was in my 20s, now takes a lot longer.
But I hate admitting things like this – I feel I’m doing the younger version of me a dirty somehow, undermining my abilities and chipping away at my already fragile confidence.
Should I continue to try to push myself and my riding, or embrace this air of self-preservation that has barged its way in now I’m a little older?
Stupid is as stupid does
When I was younger, I was an idiot.
While that’s still true to some extent, back then, all I did was live for riding and racing downhill – although I probably didn’t go about it in the smartest or safest way.
I was desperate to go as fast as possible all the time, taking risks, riding stupid lines and crashing. A lot. It probably explains my inconsistency.
Trips to A&E were commonplace, but as long as the recovery wasn’t too drawn-out, I wasn’t bothered. I knew I’d be back on the bike soon enough and things would feel good in no time at all.
I remember being at races and hearing older riders talking about surviving race day because they had work on Monday, mortgages to pay and kids to look after.
I struggled to imagine what it must feel like to have that sort of responsibility weighing down on your shoulders. How boring. No thanks. Not for me.
But fast forward 20 years and here I am, in exactly that position.
As a father of two, being able to contribute to the everyday tasks required to keep a family going is essential. And if I can’t ride a bike, I won't be able to contribute to testing for BikeRadar, but also become a real pain in the backside to live with.
Now, I understand where those guys were coming from.
When is a risk worth taking?
Crashing still really hurts, but the recovery now takes much longer and the lingering effects can last a lifetime.
Having separated my shoulder (for the third time) and broken my arm in the last decade or so, I now feel far more fragile, less pliable and, as a result, far less brave on the bike.
That means I’m more afraid of crashing than I’ve ever been.
And here comes the dilemma; I still want to improve, push myself and get better.
I’m at peace with the fact that I won't be as fast as I once was – more or less. But I still want to get that thrill of trying new lines, big jumps, testing my skills and getting out of my comfort zone from time to time.
So how do I go about doing all of this?
I’ve learned over time that I need to trust my skill and muscle memory a little more.
I was recently sat on top of a mountain in Poland, pulling my goggles over my full-face helmet, getting ready to drop into a black-graded trail I’d not ridden before.
A flood of nerves flushed through me and I started to tense up. Did I really need to hit the jump line blind? What was I trying to prove?
Once I got going, things felt comfortable, the nerves mellowed and, as soon as I hit the first take-off, I felt at ease and instinct took over.
I felt that rush of hitting new jumps for the first time and loved every second of it.
But it’s hard to shake that feeling of self-preservation.
Not long after, I was faced with a different challenge; a natural gap that required total commitment. It was technical, awkward and gutsy. The sort of thing younger me would revel in trying, no matter the consequences.
In this instance, though, I made the call at the very last second to give it a miss. It may have dented my ego, but if it had gone wrong, it would have dented a whole lot more of me.
Could I have done it? Probably, I think. Would it have been a lasting riding highlight for me that would stand the test of time? No, I don’t think so.
Although younger me wouldn’t have given something like this the headspace to even consider, trying to weigh up the bigger-picture pros and cons is certainly something I’m getting a little better at nowadays.
Getting older and accepting the new limitations imposed by your body and mind isn’t easy.
I struggle with it on almost every ride. But it’s all part of the process of riding bikes. Or at least it is for me.
I just need to try to be wise enough to only do what I feel comfortable with when those challenges present themselves, and be OK with the decision.
There’s still room for me to improve and continue to push myself in a variety of ways, and not just when it comes to going fast. I need to remember that and try to beat myself up a little less when I do go out of my way to avoid something dangerous.
If some of this sounds familiar and you, too, have had some struggles like me, I feel for you.
But it's all part of getting older. Embracing those limits and realising that, in the scheme of things, while avoiding a feature on the trail because you'd rather not break yourself might feel like a colossal, irreversible hit to the ego, it really doesn't matter.
As long as you're still having fun riding your bike, that's honestly all that matters.
