The Beauty of Being Bad

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The other day a friend said to me, "It must be really nice to sit on your bike and know you're one of the best in the world." Wow! That's a pretty powerful sentiment, but one that I had never before considered.

If you haven't guessed, I am a professional mountain biker and hurling myself off of jumps with 35lbs of intricately engineered rubber and metal underfoot is my job. To many, mountain biking is what I represent and the only thing I am expected to encompass. However, when I look in a mirror I do not see a mountain biker. I see a girl who is goofy to a fault, is burning to see everything and meet everyone in the world, feels incredibly lucky to have a strong support network of family and friends, has an inability to sit still if I hear music with any semblance of a beat, and craves to try something new and exciting everyday.

The latter quality is subsequently responsible for my "mountain biker" identity. As a 14-year-old I wanted to try as many sports as my day would permit. Skiing, volleyball, basketball, soccer, wrestling (despite being tall, skinny, and deathly afraid of confrontation) -- I played them all. Mountain biking could have been considered just another drop in the sports bucket, but it wasn't. Within minutes of riding my first singletrack trail I knew I had found my passion. It was different from all the other sports for one reason: I was terrible at it.

Now it sounds like I am loudly tooting my own horn by saying that, but I'm not, I promise. I wasn't a child prodigy athlete, but I did find most sports came quite natural to me. Not mountain biking. Nope. I was timid. I fell constantly. I was slow at pedalling uphill. I was awkward. I was in love.

Maybe it was the novelty of being humbled with each pedal stroke that kept me so determined, but within three years of my first mountain bike ride I had made the national downhill team. I was still awkward and did not exude much natural talent, but that's what kept me pushing for the top...and that's what keeps me there. 

The fixation I have with leaving my comfort zone has made me realize the beauty in being bad. If you try something and don't pick it up right away, consider yourself lucky. Use it to your advantage and use those hurdles to fuel your fire. The sports I love the most now are the sports I was the worst at when I first started. I am one of the worst surfers at my local break and can you guess what I dream about at night these days?

So ladies, the point of this little anecdote is this: just try. Try first and judge later. Try the sports you are least likely to be good at. Try the sports you think you'll hate. Just try. You just might find the most beautiful surprise of your life.

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