|Yes, it's true. Tall socks are|
a MTB uniform requirement
Today was fab.
Remember that time my son rode his MTB down a flight of stairs?
No pictures though, because I was coaching, but Hellz to the YEAH!
I’m proud of this kid.
Then we hit the trails around Buxton, N.C. which have sand patches in them that will shut you down in a hot second. BOOM.
We rocked them.
We crashed through homes, leaving a trail of destruction in our wake that could only be rivaled by a 1950's Godzilla movie. Or, at least, that's how the spiders tell it.
With our faces and helmets coated in sticky thread, we burst out of the woods in the shadow of a giant, and we dropped into the Cape Hatteras Light House Welcome Center for a water refill.
A whopping 8.35 miles on the Kona I got from Richmond Bicycle Studio. Love this bike. And love how it gives me such an opportunity to spend time with my klingon.
This ride was a great experience for him, and for me to see it through his eyes.
In a 57 minute MTB ride he became elated, discouraged, tired, frustrated, and ended with a smile high on his second wind. He never quit though, even when his bike came to a hard stop in a pocket of sand on the trail. He kept it upright, but I could tell how much he hated starting from a dead stop on a climb.
It reminded me, when I feel discouraged as I rehab my Achilles, I need to remember that becoming frustrated is not a reason to quit the process. Like a bad patch in a race isn't a reason to quit the event, it's a reason to press forward in the hopes that there might just be a second wind in me yet.
Moments of frustration are just part of the road of life.
I guess it depends on where you are at the time.