On the way through Glen Ogle

I was thinking the last two days. Thinking about biking, about my attitude to life, about good and bad luck, health, safety and all sorts of things. I was the impersonation of British health and safety madness and a false German sense for security. As some of you might know my last trip ended in the company of Voltaren and British Garden peas, both essential to get my left knee back on track. I was nearly there. After a minor injury from riding too much and too hard on one day on the singlespeed in January I had just managed to teach my knee how to work best again, this was with the help of one of my first aid bags, which I had luckily packed me. But on Sunday around 9am all hard work landed nearby a tree. I had bounced along a trail and flipped over the bars. Coming from a road near Crianlarich I quickly lost control over the bike and went over. I am in pretty good condition now, considering that my full weight was carried by my jaw and my left knee that both suspended the fall pretty well, and at least all bones are still in the right place. It took me a good five minutes to be able to stand up and examine what happened, and then the pain kicked in. I won’t go on about details, anybody who had those sort of falls knows the feeling, and those of you who don’t know, will get to know them when it’s time. What then happened was brave, and I am totally with those that use the word madness. After a brilliant day on Saturday, 105km and great company in the SYHA in Crianlarich, I simply didn’t want to end the day like this, even though it would have been the wise thing to do. I had my plans set for the day, but in the moment I came off the bike I knew that those had to change. I could remember all sorts of things from a book I have recently read, 1o lessons from the Road written by Al Humphreys, and giving up was just not an option. I was in Crianlarich, I could have taken the train in a few hours as I could hardly walk. But that was the easy way. I chose not to. If somebody had told in the moment I was looking at the timetable in Crianlarich that I will cycle another 90km in this condition, I would have called him or her mad. Only to find myself in Glasgow Queen Street after 5 painful hours, with a strange feeling of happiness and disgust for myself. The thing that kept me going was the fact that it was only a fall, and although painful, those things come with biking. I thought being in the middle of nowhere and wanted to test my limits. After cycling in the snow, on ice, in pouring rain and headwinds this was another test, and although a painful experience it proved that I can take a lot.

Suddenly, while sitting on the train back to Edinburgh, I felt the exhaustion and with it came the feeling that I had taken it a bit too far this time. I felt like writing an heroic blog post for the whole day on the bike, but the more I thought about the last hours, the more I felt a bit stupid. There I was again, the little Peter Pan, the boy who can’t sit still, always hunting his own shadow, always wanting the kick. I thought about what I had risked and what I did get in return. I could hardly walk off the train, my knee was swollen and I was limping my way out of the train station. In the end, it was difficult to judge. Heroic on the one, stupid on the other side, and I am in between. I struggled home and left my bike in the doorway, bought some Voltaren and applied some ice on the knee, and went to bed. I was sick of the day, and certainly didn’t feel the need to post heroic pictures. I could hardly move, my body must have hated me for my boyish behaviour. At the same time I had not given up, I had 205km on my computer and some great memories still to take home with me. It was not all bad.

Parking in stlye

Waking up the next day I could at least make my way to the fridge to get some ice. I felt a wee bit better, and reflected a wee bit more on what happened. It was just a fall. I was way too fast and traded my ambition for pain. Things like this happen, they come with the fun and joy and they are unpredictable. They are as unpredictable as my life. I thought about risk, and if I sometimes gamble too much, whether in cycling, in jobs, in my private life. Is it really worthwhile going all in sometimes just to be left with nothing? But is it really nothing, or is it the strong feeling that something mediocre would have even been worse? But on the other hand, this attitude had exactly got me where I was, and although not perfect, this is the life I wanted to life. Was it really that stupid to check out how far I can possibly go? No, it wasn’t! I had learned my lesson, but also felt, again, a strong love for what I am doing. I like being bold. Reading some forum posts in a German forum reassured me in my thinking. People were going on and on about the risk of injuries and all sorts of things, all those stuff I am just not prepared to think about right now. All of the sudden my knee felt much better than before, I was on the road to recovery. ‘Ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.’ (John Eldrigde)

Here are, last but not least, some pics from the weekend