Shredding Trails, and Well, Life

I feel like people are always finding
ways for action sports to relate back to life. “Life is like taking
pow turns, man...” Most of these are true, yet I feel some are
abstract and hard to relate to. I'm making my own.

Right now, it's 11:30 pm. I'm in my
boxers, tucked up on my shitty mattress pad in an empty room in a little
po-dunk town, realizing my very own analogy for life and biking.

Thats wassssuppppp. 

For some reason, whenever I have an idea, I instantly try and find an analogy for it. Usually, they
aren't very relatable for other people. They could possibly
involve my weird bowel movement schedule, the timing of when I
brake/accelerate between lights for max fuel economy, or even how
many little dishes I can use to make a balanced meal. Regardless, I
think I have found something that works fairly well.

Imagine you are ripping down a trail.
You hit a little root, and you slip both pedals. Maybe a hand slips,
and you bounce along on the saddle with the whiskey throttle on. You
transition into a smoother section of trail, and you regain your composure real
quick and continue on. You got out of control for a second or two,
yet as you went further you got your tight-loose-ass back together.

Essentially, this is how most
experiences will be in your life. I found myself, a strong individual
at the time, slowly start to get out of whack at school. I was
getting caught up in petty stupid social bullshit that really didn't
matter. The more and more time progressed, the more and more I cared.
I eventually became so insecure that I was overanalyzing anything and
everything. I couldn't go a minute without worrying about what people
were doing, what I was doing, and what I
should be doing.
Needless to say, I slipped both pedals, both hands fell off, and my
face was resting on my bars. I was about to hit the ground reaaal
hard.

I'm on the other side there somewhere...

Luckily, a nice stretch of trail was
ahead. It took me a second to get each body part back on. At first it
was hard, and I had trouble doing so. More and more time went on, and
it was easy to get back up to speed. A new location, new friends, a
new way of life– one I didn't know existed. This is the type of
trail I like.

Frankly, we all cannot hit the most
dialed trail all the time. You need to get bent out of wack every now
and then. You may then see that new line, that way through, that
won't fuck your shit the next time. Learn from your mistakes, man, as
they say.

No matter how bent out of shape you
get, I'm you can always pick your ass back up. If you hit a
section of trail that wads you up real nice, and you eat a
metric-buttload of dirt, as long as you are not dead, there is
section of trail that will suite you perfectly after. It may be a
fire road, but shit, thats better than a bike path!

I know I will look back on this heap of
text for guidance later in life, as things like this can slip away
from my brain rapidly. I hope you can as well. Shred on.