Courage atrophies from lack of use

I read that once on an ad in a magazine. It showed a woman at the top of a particularly gnarly downhill on her bike.

I'm about the biggest weenie that ever rode a mountain bike. I can't come near a drop off without holding my breath or making some unbecoming sqawk. Rocks and sharp turns make me so tense I can't possibly deal with them effectively. By the end of any kind of technical section I'm exhausted and frustrated. Enough of that!

This weekend I signed up for a mountain bike clinic through Women's Wilderness Institute. We did skill drills all morning and then went out for a loop. Mind you, this was on a very popular trail in Boulder where mountain bikers wear those trendy color matched sets that you usually only see in road races. One guy was decked out head to toe (literally) in powder blue. I'm not sure that would make me feel more courageous but he was out there riding it much better than I was so maybe I need to go shopping.

The loop was very rideable. It did have a few nice dropoffs to make me deal with that demon. And there were rocks and hairpin turns and creek crossings and big knobby roots all at the same time. So, we found section after section and rode back and forth through it again and again until we either got it or lost sufficient blood to move on. It helped. Well, not the bloodletting part.

So, I learned a little about mountain biking and a lot about fashion. Don't worry, you won't catch me in all powder blue. I don't have the courage for that!