"If I die, you can have all my stuff."

If you have any respect for me as a confident, healthy and in-shape fitness instructor--please do not read this blog entry.

Mr. Haycock took me on my first mountain biking ride. (We were in Midway for the weekend where we watched Dana's kids as she incredibly accomplished a triathalon.) As we drove to the trail head along the bumpy dirt road I verbally willed everything I owned to Josh. I didn't want to but I felt it was important to make sure that I wrapped up any loose ends by securing all my belongings to someone if I were to die on the trails.

Josh mapped out an easy path for us along the Sage Trail. I'm sure that it was actually an easy trail but I had my bike gears as low as they could go before we'd even gotten all the way out of the parking lot. The trail was not what I'd expected. It was kind of sandy, rocky, narrow, and bushy, prickly, and stabby on either side. I was so scared that I was going to either hit a rock and flip over my bike or that I was going to tip over because of exhaustion and be acupunctured to death.

Josh, very fittingly, was wearing my "Fitness Instructor" shirt. I was feeling huge and fat that day--like 300 pounds fat. (Guess we shouldn't have had pigs in a blanket and cheesecake before we left.) I was trying so hard to use Pilates breathing mentality: the more oxygen you take in, the less your muscles will hurt. It worked for a good pedal or two. But still, I was taking 3 minute breathing breaks for every 2 minutes I rode the trail.

This whole physical experience was comparable to a hippopatamus with one lung riding a bicycle on a rocky balance beam with porcupines on either side. That's how I felt.

I finally met up with my patient husband at the top. It was such a relief! All downhill from there! But wait. Now I had to go fast down the rocky trails with angry porcupine bushes waiting on either side? mercy... Josh, with all of his bouncing energy, took off down the trail. I could hear skids and "Woo-hoo!"s fade as he raced down the path. As I white-knuckled the brakes I learned something about myself. I'm very cautious. But can you blame me? The trail was very steep and S-curved all the way down (and remember those pin-cushions along the trail--with the needles poking UP?!). I am proud to say that I never fell off. Ever. But I sure did stumble alot. And nearly got mowed over by another zealous rider behind me.





This is me coming down the end of the main trail. Sure, it doesn't look that bad but trust me, it was! At this point Josh and I split up so he could go on a "real" ride by himself. He guided me to the Aqueduct trail which followed the creek down to the trail head. The Aqueduct trail was a dirt rode with deep tire tracks. This trail was even rockier! It was still downhill but not nearly as steep and it was void of any S-curves. I kept at my cautious, brake-gripping pace until I rode through a spot over the creek. Glancing down at the mud splatters all over my bike and clothes, a renewed sense of excitement and adventure overcame me. I loosened my grip on the brakes and rode faster through the next creek crossing, making an even bigger splash. Pretty soon I was jumping over big rocks and keeping a slack jaw and very juvenille-y letting out a loud "aya-aya-yayayayaya" as I took the very bumpy trail down. This trail was awesome! I crossed the creek five or six times and steered all over the trail. That last leg of the ride down was a blast! Made the whole trip worth it.

And I didn't have to give Josh my stuff.