YES I CAN

So said Eddie Murphey in The Nutty Professor to aide his weight loss and beat his slim evil self.
It also sprung to mind for me over a small piece of trail that I've recently had issues with.
I was out with Jamer for a Saturday afternoon ride, we've both got cameras to capture our riding and a few hours saw us get enough footage for this;

And that bit right at the end is what originally brought good ol' Eddie's mantra to mind.
The trail in question is called the Serpent, a snaking singletrack that drops from the highest point of Penyard hill (visible from our bedroom window) 260 vertical feet lost over the space of 1/3mile.  Quick, jumpy and rewarding it's a favourite already amongst many of my mates.

The sting in it's tail is a drop, vertical at the top and exposed to the right, the run in is blind and the first thing noticeable is that exposure, quickly followed by large uncovered rocks on the left.  The drop turns immediately down the trail into nothing leaving no room for error.  It has already been blackballed by Strava so no leaderboard is possible, I've said it before, I ride with some fantastic riders, the fact that we all know who and who hasn't, done that final section speaks volumes over the toughness of it.

Whilst Jamer effortlessly floats down it in the video, that was his second attempt, during his first he buzzed his back wheel with his gentleman sausage and padded the rocks with his foot.  Returning to where we were starting our run in, he was visibily shaking.  Even after getting down it with certain style he was adamant that he had no intention of doing it again.

Each time I've ridden Serpent to date the trail has been soaking wet, as such, everyone has pulled up short and taken the 'chicken run' although this is steep and if anything even more exposed than what we're trying to avoid, it's really only doable on foot.
That's bugged me, much as I love Serpent I'm never able to ride competely in the moment due to the growing feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach, previously assuming I'm nesh I've kept quiet, but the crash appears to have loosened tongues and this feeling of "oh hell, that drop is coming up" is more common than I thought.

With the camera running I ran in twice, each time my hands pulling on the brakes without any instruction from my brain.  Getting frustrated with myself I set up a third run, this time carrying too much speed, the results are there for all to see.  Smiling as I might be when I sit up, I was deeply frustrated.  I hauled my bike back up to the start and had another go.
This time my brain gave the STOP signal loud and clear.  I had to admit it that I had beaten myself.
We carried on the ride, I was annoyed, the gnawing anger wouldn't leave, getting home I shared the results of the ride with Kate, editing the clips together only heightened my annoyance.  Lying in bed that night I was replaying that 30ft of trail over and over.

By Sunday evening Kate was asking Jamer to get me back up the woods and not let me leave until I had sorted it.

My next opportunity was Wednesday, I was as nervous as a teenager on a first date.  At the start of the trail I was "Yes I can"ing myself to death, I had visualised the run in, the feeling of the bike, how it would feel to be down.  It didn't start well and I had a 'moment' on the largest of the jumps in the middle section, scrubbing it from memory I get back onto Jamers rear wheel, down the first drop without incident, palms sweaty and mouth dry I approach the run in, sharp left, down to the blind lip and bum back, perfectly aligned I holler my victory, down the final chute, two drops and I'm on the fire road, fist pumping.

I can't wait to try again...

Two Rides

Work is shite at the moment, not in a bad way, but in the way that each day could do with being about 8 hours longer.  To Do's are piling up and the stuff that I consider proper work is being left to one side in order to satisfy the seemingly endless parade of auditors passing through our doors.

The cold which developed just in time for the Dusk Til Dawn race has finally disappeared and I'm feeling the need to get out and turn the pedals.

Sunday I was out with Rex and Nic, I'd stated a desire to get and do some of my favourite trails during my week back, but the normal Wednesday night right ended up in being a lap of the Enduro.  I didn't really care, I was making a star appearance* to my old buddies and the banter was like a tonic to the soul.  Sunday, though and I was a little more insistent, and we duly made our way out and toward Dr Johns.. we didn't make it, being sidelined at one of (in my opinion) the best pieces of singletrack in the Forest - or at least it was, until it became the subject of the tender mercies of the Forestry Commission and their team of special 'Apocalypse Now' set designers.. more of this at a later date.

Back in Sheffield and I finally set aside the concern I hold for Road Riding at night, I'd posted on Singletrack World asking for peoples opinions or experiences and the responses filled me with some confidence that yes, night riding on the road was ok and no, it didn't necessarily mean instant death at the hands of a 48 tonne truck (because if it's on the net it must right.. right?).

The first ride was lovely, the evening felt warm and I was left wondering whether I'd overdone it with layers.  At high spots throughout I would come to a halt and watch fireworks pop lazily and without sound over the city below me.  Consulting the map on my phone I decided to add a few extra miles in, riding out to Damflask Reservoir before heading back to the City Centre, where I had fun zipping through traffic, and racing red lights.

The second ride saw me hunching over the bars whilst high winds blasted freezing rain into my face.  For some reason, as the wind picked up I found myself smiling.. I even extended the ride to include a nasty little descent (where the rain caused me to have to squint to see and the fallen leaves left the road surface greasy.. I'm certainly gaining confidence on the road bike) and an even more horrible climb where I met several soaked and miserable looking cyclists coming the other way. 

I still managed to stop to take a picture of how awesome the Exposure 6 Pack is though.  The picture is blurry but in my defence I was using my phone camera and was struggling against the wind at the time.

It's good to be 'back'



*If star appearances involved talentless idiots who only manage to disappoint.. think Denver Mills  of Little Britain fame

Change of mind (set)

I've wittered on at some length in the past, usually to whoever is unlucky enough to find themselves in ear shot about the 'flow'. That mystical thing bikers crave, when bike and rider are smooth and as one, the bike seemingly controlled by thought alone.. Taking responsibility upon itself to hit the sweet spot of each corner perfectly with no loss of pace.  Those kinds of rides don't happen very often for me, I'm usually scrabbling for grip, frustrating myself over a lack of pace or bravery or just wishing i could do it all a bit better than i am.

But what if the problem isn't me.. But is 'me'?  Two things have happened recently that have changed my perceptions.  Firstly I heard an interview about the English cricket team and then i read a book whuch built on the theories already in my head.

The interviewee explained that Englands recent test success and resulting world no. 1 ranking was due, in part to a shift in attitude.  Victories would no longer be celebrated by an almighty piss up and then swept under the carpet before we get too big for our boots, they would instead be seen as reward for hard work and lessons would be learned. Wow. How often are successes analysed as hard as the navel gazing typically associated with a damn good thrashing?

We no longer let the other chaps off either.. Aggression to the end, don't win.. Demolish them without remorse.

The book mentioned setting goals, goals which were SMART to borrow from business speak, but spoke in terms of "by next june i WILL be.." and they should be short enough to be read in less than a minute.. Succinct stays in the head. and, although it wasn't the real theme a message i took from it was about goals and belief.  Too often as adults we let real world cynicism get in the way of achievement.. Its not practical, there isn't enough time, wrong type of leaves on the line..

I've given it a go.  I suffer with the typical British trait of playing down success, doing well can be explained away by a whole load of reasons.. A triathlon i finished 16 out of 200 in was because it was 'only short'.. How stupid.. I'd worked dammed hard, trained and deserved what i got. 

I've set a goal.. I'm going to stop justifying success hard earned in whatever area of my life.

Early days but last week it came good. Whilst on an early morning sunday ride with Rex i kept only positive thoughts in my head. My fitness from countless* hours in the gym were paying off, strong legs strong lungs and a sharper mind.  I loved every second. My reborn confidence saw me carry speed into muddy rooty corners that i wouldn't normally allow.. Whole bike slides were greeted not with a handfull of brake and reduced speed but a small giggle and hard pedalling to the next section.

I had found the flow, not on a dry summer evening but a wet autumnal morning.  Its locked inside us all the time, we just need to find the key.

*Actually that's not true, i know exactly how many it is. I'm both ashamed and proud of the figure