Until yesterday. On the last descent (an easy one at that) of 3 days of absolutely wild riding in Fernie, was TKO'd by the trail with a combination flat tire, 3 broken spokes, rear derailleur ripped off and taco'd wheel. I'm still in disbelief about it, and not really sure how it even happened. All I know is that instead of cruising in to a 5th place finish out of 300 trail riders, I had to hike-a-bike ten-K in searing 60 degree heat... Okay it wasn't that bad, but still, it stings. I wasn't even racing for money, I still got my finisher's hoody (I had to get back to town anyway, so I figured I may as well cross the finish line), but what a bummer way to close out an epic weekend.
Oh wo is me you say..... :( I know, I was racing my mountain bike in Fernie, I know I'm lucky to even be there. But I'd bet you a tooney that anyone else would be just as pissed at this outcome. Look at Georgia Gould, finishing a World Cup in 3rd place in tears. Yes, 3rd place is great, but sour compared to what would have been. PS I'm also betting on Georgia to win the Olympic XC race.
Times like these it's easy to dwell on the bad things. Being a groundhog/badger power animal, I thrive on junk like this. If I were content, there's no way I would put myself into the bad place that's required to get up those mountains. But it's important not to let the negative vibes consume the rider. Angst can only get you so far, passion gets you to the top.
So, with broken bike and enough anger to yell from the top of a mountain, my low-buck race tour soldiers on to Sun Valley for mountain bike nationals. Redemption Time!