Get your heart out of it.

Riding over trails... it sounds easy to romanticize, especially when surrounded by the smell of pine needles and fresh air, with morning rain still damp on the leaves. But let me tell you. You can't romanticize that shit. The minute the brain makes that choice, a large root from one of those pine trees will shamelessly toss you headlong into those slippy leaves as you ride along with little hearts popping out of your head. Keep it up, and they'll be broken hearts.

But when I began pining away for a mountain bike, that's just what I did. I thought it would be all rosy-cheeked, sweet fun. I had no clue that my road-biking skillset would in no way transfer well to the trails. They say that what you don't know can't hurt you, and I guess in a way that's true. In my corollary list of wrecks so far on the trails, I haven't sustained much more than some bruises and scrapes. Nothing to even keep me from sleeping at night.

I'm learning to love the insanity of going quickly down a hillside trail riddled with rocks and roots. The roots, frankly, are the worst part of the whole deal, this business of riding on trails. They slaughter my core and upper body, and leave me exhausted quickly. The strength training seems to be helping a little with that, and I'm staying upright on tougher sections more.

Each time I head to the trails, I find myself apprehensive. This morning, I kept thinking it was obvious I had been on the road more than the trails lately, as I made little mistakes in my maneuvering. But then I had glimmers of hope when I realized I was moving through areas more quickly and with better handling. The last section of trail this morning was one I struggled on a few weeks ago. The trails are full of roots... chock full. Like the washboard I heard the woman play at the Flying Saucer that time so musically, and it sends me bouncing, out of control. I know I need to improve my front wheel lift, but it's so riddled with roots, I'd have to ride the whole way on my rear wheel. And we know that isn't happening. But today, I didn't wreck, didn't drop my chain, kept my gaze ahead instead of just in front of me, and rolled through successfully to the next trail feature.

Look, I won't lie to you. This new riding I'm doing, it beats me senseless, mentally and physically. It's like my own personal Fight Club, except I can tell you about it. And just like you don't fall in love with Fight Club, but you like the way it makes you feel, and you keep going back for more, that's how I feel about the hardness, the ass-kicking I get out of this. It's challenging, and we know I love a challenge.