Rock and Root Therapy for Being Here Now

Last week I had a major work setback. I submitted something that was not up to snuff, and it got sent back with scathing commentary. I can resubmit. And, I am, unsurprisingly, worried about whether I can do a better job, because now I’m in the vicious cycle of doubting myself.

So, I woke up on Saturday morning weighed down by the blues and decided the antidote was to do the hardest mountain bike ride I did last summer. As my second ride of the season this year. A trail that starts at the far edge of Canmore Nordic Center and plunges into dense forest on its way to Banff.

The blues-fighting ride I decided to do is rocky and root-y to an extreme. Last year, it was raining and cold (4C/40F), so the roots were all the more slippery. I walked my bike. A lot. My phone went into SOS mode from the cold. When I decided to do it this past Saturday, my reasoning was this: Physical effort aside, the trail requires the particular intense mental focus that I love about mountain biking. That dance between laser attention and allowing the bike to flow with the landscape. The dance of vigilance and letting go. The ride would be an exercise in trusting myself, just at a moment when I wasn’t. Also, I had barely gotten reacquainted with my mountain bike the morning before. So my bike and I were still re-establishing our trust.