In the last couple week, something happened. I can pinpoint the exact ride when I realized it, even though it's been a journey, not a destination. Two weeks ago, when I was be bopping around Portland, I realized that I had gotten bored with being scared. For months, since I had gotten the BMW, every time I took it off road, or looked at a narrow u-turn on the street, I could feel the pit in my stomach, my hands would shake, and I'd get fuzzy in the brain.... somewhere between mild panic and terror. But, that day, I was on my own. I ended up in some awkward needing to turn around situations (ie, I must get a picture of my bike in front of that awesome brick wall, or oops I turned down a dead end road.) I followed street signs that indicated worse and worse roads in Portland, and rode through rutted mud. I didn't turn on my GPS to find my way, but instead explored based on whichever way struck my fancy. And, I realized that spot in my stomach where the fear started was hollow. I had the urge to drive up on a sidewalk and take a picture, so I did. Then I realized I was on my own and in a predicament, so I just had to get down off that sidewalk, no other choice.
I came home wanting to write about it, but (ironically) was scared that the fear wasn't really gone. So I waited. Did some more riding, playing, challenging myself. We took our bikes to Millican Valley last weekend, with the intention of getting me some off road practice (without pouring rain was the perk to driving that far.) Nathan fully expected to spend the weekend on gravel roads. We did ride gravel roads. It was so much fun! Way more fun than riding while managing a pit of anxiety in my stomach and shaking hands. We found a large hill. No problem. We found a puddle... Ok, that didn't go so smoothly, but at least it was a soft mud landing. We did the same gravel road over and over, my confidence building each time. We did that gravel road at night! That was a feat... I can't see well at night, but my awesome headlight kept me on track.
The next day we started on gravel roads, but I was up for the next challenge. How about green trails? So we were of. The trails out there are sandy dirt, firmed up by the moisture, with gentle, wide bermed turns. We did that, and at each intersection, Nathan would check in with the group. We all wanted to keep going, so we did. The trail, though still rated a green, took a turn for the more extreme... a patch of rocks to pick my way through, a larger patch of larger rocks to pick my way through... Slightly deeper sand. It was fascinating... Evidently, the boredom with being scared stuck, but there were some well rehearsed pathways in my brain doubting my ability. I stopped, decided that my only option was to actually ride it, and then I picked a speed, picked a line, and found my way through more complex rocky sections. The sand tried taking me out, but a slip of the clutch and a roll of the throttle kept me going. Even the major rocky section Nathan stopped to warn me about was not a problem... steady speed, lean back, ignore the fact that it sounded like the rocks were trying to remove my skidplate, and go! Fist pump and a F*** yeah as after that one.
I can't say for sure the fear is gone, but it's at least on an extended vacation. Meanwhile, I'm building positive experiences and seat time.
After this weekend, on a seemingly unrelated note, I had some time in my expressive arts therapy group to do some creating on the theme peace, love, and serenity.
My art is simply self expression; I love sending it to Nathan, just to share. He texted back "they both have holes." Hm.... very much how I felt when I had been looking for that unfamiliar pit of anxiety over the last couple weeks. Like everything around it is there, where it is supposed to be, but something is missing. How funny the subconscious can be....
