Thursday, September 24, 2020

Phase-Shift

Entering a new phase of my riding life, I sense. I've only sat on a bicycle once since the days before the surgery. It felt amazing. I took it for a tiny spin out onto the footpath, looping back to the driveway effortlessly. So, so good. 

I can't physically imagine how much damage a longer ride could do. I don't know the complexities of the viscera and whether tears- or undoings of healing tissue. I'm assuming that I'm not riding because the damage I could do would put me back to square one. 

So. That brings us to the Phase Shift I so endearingly capitalised. My riding is going to have to be something new. Slower, more gentle. Exploratory; for interests sake. For example, I could make it my mission to ride every street in the city. Take notes, rate them for rideable enjoyment. Or, do the same for "beginner," and on up the grades, mountain bike tracks, as my body returns to a greater level of robustness and healed-ness.  And suddenly (or not so suddenly) I find I'm not averse to the idea of electric assist.  Have it handy for less fit friends and fam, or take it out on solo (or not) 'leckie' rides. (Another benefit of that would be a reconnection with my biking peeps).

Just a few thoughts...

Wednesday, September 02, 2020

Post Op

Resting. How many days? Healing. 

"The path is always shorter if you know the destination." 

Applies nicely to new singletrack: every turn, every berm, rail, pop. Takes more time-sense making it so that next time you ride the trail it seems so much shorter. Leave the riding of a less well known trail for long enough and it's always fresh. 

Some trails tho, your 'home' ones, you know so well you ride them in your sleep. However, these do change over time - dynamic, trails are: changes and evolutions as the land beneath erodes; rocks or roots exposed