So, at the ripe old age of almost 30, I decided to take on Mountain Biking. And it is kicking my Ass. I went for a ride today in the woods by the river near my house. I ended up doing to endos, which stands for end over end. Which means I flew over the bike, hit the ground, and for the cherry on top, had the bike fly on top of me. Twice! Then in fit of brilliance I went on a trail crossover with ramps.
Down the first hill, hit the first ramp, smile on my face. I catch air, my bike goes to the right, and I to the left. As a man, I can't let the trail win, so I dust myself off, put myself on the bike and set my face, determined to give it another go. Same trail and same result.
This time I land on my wrist and the bike falls behind me. I lay on the ground for a while looking up admiring the trees and thanking God that I am ok. This time I let the trail win and go home.
My wife asks me why I started such a round and dangerous hobby this late in life. I tell I don't know, but I have fun and ride by a motto, "Ride Hard and Fall Hard." The falling hard part I got down. I just need to work on the riding hard part. But I will get it.
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