Break A Leg
My brother and I (he gets mentioned a lot in these posts. I wish my life was more like his. You do, too, and the more you read these posts and his own, the more you’ll see why.) went mountain biking outside of Moab on my last birthday. It was very cool. You know those trips you make and then you get home and you think “I need to think of a way to move there. That place is great!” Moab is definitely on that list. Not as high as, maybe, Jackson Hole, but high on the list.
Anyhow, as usual, I wish I had pushed myself when we were riding. I had fun, but I didn’t go out there and leave it all on the slickrock, you know? I slowed down, and I got nervous, and I thought to myself “I better be careful. I could break a leg out here.” I never even went over the handlebars, which I do around home a lot more than I should. Heck, I did it yesterday.
So here’s your advice for the day. When you do something new or in an out-of-the-usual place, throw a little more of yourself in there. Cut loose a bit. Later, you’ll look back and be glad. Like the Tshirt says, “Bones knit, scabs heal, and chicks dig scars.” I’m not saying you should crack your head for a souvenir of a good adventure, but you might take home some road rash to remember it by.