When Fun Becomes the Goal: A Mountain Biker’s Meditation

I have been active outdoors my whole life. Around eight years ago, I started mountain biking and moving to downhill biking (DH) was kind of natural. I have been mostly downhill biking for six summers now. A friend started DH with me last year and this year they asked me what was my goal. I didn’t know how to answer this, but it certainly got me thinking.

I was intensely goal-oriented when I was much younger. As a climber, I was sponsored and had some high-altitude mountaineering ambitions. I accomplished part of it, like climbing four of the seven summits. I competed as a navigator in hot air balloon championships, placing second in one of them (Ladies World Balloon Cup in Leszno, Polland, in 2000).

Then, in my late 40’s, I started mountain biking and DH. It’s incredibly challenging for me, fast and unforgiving when accidents happen. I know I’m conservative when biking and don’t attempt too many risky moves. But here’s the thing: I have an absolute blast. It’s become my favorite activity and the very reason we moved to the Okanagan—to be close to Silverstar!

The best climber in the world is the one having the most fun—Alex Lowe

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, I was never a particularly skilled climber. But I had tons of fun. And now I carry that same spirit into my downhill runs. There’s another aspect of these activities that keeps me grounded: the fact that I have to be completely present to tackle even a green, beginner run. My mental chatter focuses on technique—look ahead at what’s coming, not just what’s immediately in front of you—and lots of self-coaching that I can handle this, that certain features won’t hurt me if something goes wrong, even though the possibility of something going wrong is actually minimal.

I recently saw a bike reel that said this:

For some people, it’s therapy, for other’s it’s control, perhaps it’s freedom, focus, or an escape. For you, maybe it’s the only time the noise in your heads finally shuts off. And that’s everything.

It’s true and deeply compelling. Those one or two hours a day during that short season when I am not thinking about much else—it’s a meditative state, essential for recharging. And I felt exactly the same way when rock climbing in my youth.

I guess I have my answer and my goal: keep having fun, keep challenging myself, and keep treasuring these fleeting moments as something so special that only those who’ve experienced it truly understand.