Okay, so, yes, I’m aware it’s July and I haven’t written anything on here since May. I think that’s okay though, because I’ve been busy doing other fun things, not to mention letting all my thoughts on life and bike racing marinate a little bit. With blogs, it’s too easy to just jump into writing and not bother to think about why you’re writing, or what you’re trying to say — that’s something I try not to do here. I know almost no one cares about the nitty-gritty details of a bike race. Most people don’t even care that much about bike racing. Some [seriously confused and possibly mentally addled] people don’t even care about bikes. So, this blog isn’t so much about bike racing, as it is about the things I learn from hauling my bike up a mountain and racing it down the other side, things that are actually pretty relevant even if you take the bike out of equation. Like, the big lesson from the past two months, which is this:

Sometimes shit just doesn’t go according to plan. And that’s okay. Because when you don’t have a choice, you make it okay.

I spent the second half of May and the first week of June sidelined with a knee injury. This was difficult, because I am an inherently impatient person and prone to dramatic thought patterns along the lines of “well there goes everything I’ve spent the first half of the year working on, I’m doomed.” This is ridiculous. I know this is ridiculous because I’ve been sidelined by minor injuries approximately 1,000 times in my life, and the sky hasn’t fallen down yet. And, spoiler alert, one month later here I am racing and riding again, arguably faster than I was before I got hurt.

Photo: Sean Leader

However, I still spent a few days moping around and feeling sorry for myself, as well as boring my long-suffering boyfriend with predictions of worst case scenarios. Like, what if I need surgery. What if it never gets better. What if I get fat. What if my leg needs to be amputated. What if a gnome in a purple leotard absconds with my bike and tries to sell it on ebay WHAT THEN DOOM DOOM DOOM. You get the picture. I would be lying if I said I was a naturally positive person — I think sometimes people read my inspirational blog posts and mistake me for the kind of person who effortless uncovers silver linings and convinces wild birds to eat out of her hand. It’s not really like that. Sometimes it requires an almost impossible effort for me to look on the goddamn cliche-as-shit bright side. This was one of those times. I drafted multiple whiny, self-loathing blog posts and (luckily for you) deleted them all. And, then, after a few days of that, I sucked it up and started employing the tricks I’ve learned for forcing positivity, even when it isn’t coming naturally. I sat down and made a list of priorities. I reminded myself that I have time — this year is important, but I’m only 24 and the earlier I figure out a way to avoid chronic overuse injuries, the better. Then I did about a million push ups, went to the gym (!!! no joke), got a professional bike fit and did some physical therapy. And while I definitely got antsy and drove everyone around me crazy, I’m pretty sure I came out of this injury in even better shape than before, not to mention a wee bit better equipped to handle setbacks.

By mid-June, I was back to training fully, just in time to head to Idaho for a week of shit totally not going according to plan. In fact, beautiful, gorgeous Sun Valley, ID just seemed to crush every single one of our plans. The trails we planned on riding disappeared into a wash of post-forest fire erosion and left us hiking for hours. Other trails were closed entirely due to calving elk. And once we just ended up on the wrong trail, and not anywhere close to where we thought we were. And then, during the race, I had a pretty epic mechanical on the second day. This was a bummer because I had been sitting in second place up to that point, which would have been my best result ever in the history of forever. Luckily I was able to claw my way back to fourth and still make a podium appearance. But the whole situation stung because it just wasn’t the damn plan. However, it wasn’t all bad. For example, I was totally in awe of the awesomeness of the rest of the pro women’s field, half of whom stopped at the end of the stage and helped me get my bike back into working order in the most janky, gerry-rigged fashion possible. Between the five of us, we had enough combined mechanical knowledge to get me rolling again. And I was proud of myself for finishing the race, despite the frustrating circumstances. And, besides, if you’re looking for a beautiful place to ride, you really can’t do better than Sun Valley…

Photo: Sean Leader

Photo: Sean Ryan

Since the Enduro Cup in Sun Valley, I’ve participated in the Idaho Pump Track Championships (and placed third), scared myself half to death on the DH track at Canyons Bike Park, and raced the Big Mountain Enduro in Keystone (which also involved some hair-raising moments). I don’t really feel like I can cram all of these things into this blog post, although there has definitely been a central theme to the past weeks — things haven’t gone according to plan, but I’ve been grateful to be able to race and train, grateful to still be improving, and perhaps most grateful of all to just be riding my bike in such awe-inspiring locations.