I LOVE mountain biking. There’s no better way to spend time together as a family than discovering all kinds of crazy terrain in stunning settings such as our favorites— the mountains of Colorado and the desert of the mountain biking capital of the world in Moab, Utah. The memories from these adventures are priceless.
This summer we traveled to a park in upstate NY with trails ranging from beginner to black diamond, and to my boys’ delight expert jumps, rock gardens and obstacles I can’t even begin to describe.
Yes, having two boys means I have to suck it up and follow along whether I like it or not. Since this was my first ride in 2 years it took some time to get used to being back in the saddle again. But once we were swallowed by the woods and breaking a sweat it all came flooding back. You know…just like riding a bike.
Typically I’m the caboose and this day was no different. The upside of riding last meant I didn’t have to think too much about where we were going and there’d be no witnesses if I fell. Thankfully, my husband doesn’t mind waiting for me at intersections! Thank God for that because I was definitely NOT blessed with a sense of direction. As we wound through the trees I found myself lost in thought about how much I love being in the woods and how mountain biking so perfectly paralleled my life.
Once we had warmed up on an easy trail we were off to find more difficult terrain that included more switchbacks, steep uphill climbs and downhill slopes winding around trees and over rocks and roots that were scattered throughout the trails. At first I rode with the determination to tackle whatever I encountered, but as I was barreling down the first switchback I suddenly doubted myself and my ability. A voice out of nowhere reminded me that when I felt out of control the key was to hold on tightly to the handlebars, dig deep and let the momentum carry me. If I slowed down or stopped when it became too challenging in the middle of a climb or navigating an obstacle, more often than not I would fall and become frustrated. I learned the hard way that the only way through was to keep pedaling, even though instability was very unsettling and instinctively I wanted to bail out. What initially triggered panic and hesitancy soon became a welcoming challenge.
The long climbs were tiring but the effort was well worth it. If I had given up I would have been disappointed in myself and I never would have experienced the beauty and exhilaration of reaching the top of the mountain.
Staying safe and confined to the easy trail would have been less nerve wracking but the reward was more gratifying because attaining it involved sweat, tears, bruises and bumps, which would essentially become battle scars (and anyone who loves adventure knows that battle scars = bragging rights because they remind us of our epic journey!)
When a trail head warned us of the impending difficulty it never prevented us from at least trying. (Not that the rest of my family ever hesitated) On more than one occasion I pleaded with my family to stick to something less challenging but they wouldn’t go for it, so I was left with a choice — I could trust them and let them (the more experienced and skilled) lead the way, or I could wimp out, turn back and more than likely get lost trying to find my way back to the parking lot.
Being with the people I love on an adventure was much more appealing than getting lost. It was truly touching to hear my son’s voice from up ahead warning me about a sharp turn or crazy obstacle. They cheered when I made it through a challenge and encouraged me whenever I freaked out. When I stayed in the moment and pedaled on without dwelling on what MIGHT be ahead, I was more relaxed and successful.
Staying in the moment was definitely key. One moment. One obstacle at a time. If I took my eyes off the path or looked too far ahead, fear would cause me to stumble. But even though the trails were difficult and quite often downright scary, the sense of achievement at the end assured me I had made the right choice.
When we arrived back at our car, exhausted yet exhilarated, my mind was spinning with thoughts about how life parallels what I had just experienced. Isn’t it so true that nothing worth attaining is ever easy, and it rarely happens when we remain in our comfort zone?
No doubt my life has felt like a black diamond these past few years with all the obstacles, unknowns, and uphill challenges seemingly around every corner. Endless doctor appointments, uncertain diagnoses, mystery pains, and lots of unanswered questions. But the challenging path has taught me resilience, built my endurance, strengthened me and made me wiser. I’ve learned so much about myself, my faith has grown stronger, and I’m more confident in who I am. I know that as long as I keep pedaling and moving forward, taking it one moment at a time, the obstacles are less scary and easier to navigate – especially when I do it with others.
As I stare down the black diamond that could potentially define the next chapter of my life, I’m met with nervous excitement and debilitating fear. I have to continually remind myself that whenever I’ve remained focused on just the next step I’m more confident. I don’t need to fixate on the climb. I just have to navigate one obstacle at a time, remain calm and keep the momentum going.
Quite often I freeze from fear and want desperately to turn around and run back to the safety of being comfortable. I want time to stand still. I want my kids to be little again. I want my aches and pains to disappear. I want to stay on the easy path that is well worn and safe.
I don’t like the unknown. For some reason, being an empty nester hit me especially hard this year. My life has revolved around my kids for the past 20 years — now what? However, there are glimmers of excitement as I envision this next phase of life. I’m reminded that everything I’ve been through and all I’ve learned along the way can serve a higher purpose. There’s a new path waiting just for me and perhaps I’m meant to lead someone else through their challenges.
I know from experience that if I listen for God’s voice to direct me, I can be assured that He has it all worked out. It’s up to me to trust that He will and help me to use my experiences for good. With that in mind, I’m ready to take on the black diamond because I know I have the Creator of the Universe guiding me, and to me that sounds like an adventure I don’t want to miss out on. Something keeps assuring me all I have to do is keep moving forward and trust Him. After all, isn’t He the most experienced and skilled guide out there?
