While I've always been safety conscious and prepared, mountain biking and the unfamiliar equipment required an adjustment period. Wearing a helmet was always a given for me while riding, but one summer, I was introduced to clipless pedals -- the type that are clipped to the shoe. The clip/shoe bond is so strong that it's been said the Jaws of Life are frequently used to free unfortunate soles (pun intended).
We traveled to a few races in Germany, where I placed first in my age division. After winning, I became confident in my abilities. I thought I could navigate any terrain on my bike; after all, winning first place means you are invincible, right?
Typical weekends for my husband and me were to meet friends in a village and ride on Italian mountain trails. One Saturday morning, we decided to take on a tougher trail. I hadn't negotiated this trail before, but our friends had navigated it many times. It was steep and full of washouts and ruts, but the main challenge was it was inundated with exposed tree roots, hence its nickname -- the Root Down Trail.
Not knowing the trail, I fell behind the others. They constantly waited on me at junctions to ensure I remained on the right trail. It didn't take long until I began to feel as though I was a burden and ruining their ride. After catching up for the third or fourth time, I decided I needed to step it up and throw caution to the wind since I seemed to be slowing the group. With that burden lifted, I began taking more risks and, in turn, began having many close calls.
Even with the risks I was taking, I remained behind, so I upped the tempo even more. As I came down the last root-covered bit of trail, I thought our meeting place was just around the corner. It was the perfect place to gain speed, giving me the opportunity to catch up. The trees passed by in a blur as I flew down the foot-wide trail. Then, in cinema-like slow motion, the next few moments seemed to last forever as I began flying over my handlebars! Being clipped into my pedals, I couldn't get out, so I tucked my head and rolled as I hit the ground. I landed on my back with my feet still firmly locked to the pedals, which were still attached to the bike, which was now tires-side up.
After the initial shock, I began to laugh as I thought to myself that I could have won the $10,000 prize on America's Funniest Home Videos. Slowly, I unclipped my feet, stood up and inspected my bike. Everything seemed to be in working order, so I continued on my way -- a little wiser and a lot more bruised. No more than 100 yards around the corner was the rest of the group. Pretending that nothing happened, we continued with the rest of the ride.
In hindsight, I think of how lucky I am nothing serious happened to me that day. I could have easily smashed into a tree or stump, broken a bone or even worse. Thank goodness I was wearing my helmet. After being successful in several races, it was easy to become overconfident in my abilities. I made the mistake of trying to keep up with the rest of the group even though their skills surpassed mine. Having fun and enjoying the hobbies you like doesn't have to become a competition with others or with yourself. I had the preconceived idea in my head that I was ruining our friends' ride when, in all actuality, they were thankful for the breaks and the chance to chat about how awesome the trail was.
My advice is to get out there and have fun, but stay within your comfort zone and limitations. Competition and self-challenges are good, but all in moderation. The old adage of "walk before you run" is very applicable to safety in daily life.
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