Water Whirls

It was a neck warmer, not a pair of ski goggles (see previous post), that I donned at a last minute. A few hours later, I was praising my impulse, as it served as a towel for regularly wiping the splatter from my face and neck. The precipitation had been relentless over the past few weeks, almost daily alterations between snow and rain, winter and spring. The weather was even confused within one moment in time where it was sunny and (still) showering.

The theme of each ride became water and I spent great periods of time in awe at the power of roaring waterfalls (the one on Chase Rd was reminiscent of one I've seen in NH's Pemigewasset Wilderness) and the determination of overflowing streams, as well as resignation over the continued existence of snow patches on the fourth class roads I was traveling.

It provided plenty of fodder for practicing mindfulness while riding; taking one full minute to listen to the sounds of water, taking one full minute to feel the numbness from cold of one thumb, taking one full minute to observe the sensation of fatigue in my glutes and the deliciousness of deep breathing as I arduously pedal up - yet another - muddy, gap road.

I'm curious about mindful meditation and how a quiet mind might improve my mountain biking. I've always been a mental "chewer and stewer" when I exercise - I've had half a mind to consider riding time as billable hours the way I can creatively brainstorm a work project. Yet, that makes me highly distractable on technical singletrack, as well as gives an "in" to negative thinking that inevitably creeps in during tough races.

By trying to focus on the present moment and not ruminating on the stories of the past ("I've been riding in the rain for 2 hours now") or the future ("there is still a ways to go on this climb"), I have noticed a difference in how I observe the nuances of my surroundings day-to-day. The trout lily leaves that I passed two days ago were topped with tubular-shaped flowers yesterday and were fully open and star-faced today. I can only strive for the "bliss effect" that some describe when race efforts feel effortless, and hopefully time it for the fourth lap of next Sunday's Flower Power race at the Catamount Outdoor Center.