I probably spend too much time standing by the side of the trail talking about what it’s like to ride mountain bikes instead of riding them, but I have a degree in philosophy and a lifetime of overthinking behind me that’s just begging to be put to no good use.
A recent topic is the shape that failure takes, in your body (and mind), when you don’t clear an obstacle.
Something like this happens. You identify an obstacle, a rock or combination of rocks, a skinny, whatever, and you envision the solution to this problem. You try your solution, and it doesn’t work. That’s fine. This is what sessioning is for. You roll up again, trying the same solution, and you fail again. That’s ok. Try again, but be careful, because now you’ve got the shape of that failure in your body and mind. If you don’t make the effort to change something, you might just establish an unsuccessful pattern that becomes stuck. It might be better to intentionally fail in another way.
Maybe you just need to try harder with the solution you’ve got in your head, OR it’s the wrong solution and you have to find a way to shake the shape of failure out of your body in favor of a better, more effective shape.
As always, I suspect this is a metaphor for our life choices in larger contexts, but really, my deep thoughts seldom extend beyond sweaty pontifications by the side of a trail under a set of powerlines. That has been one of my main life choices. Results are mixed.
Anyhoo.
What I find, in facing trail obstacles is that the correct solution often involves both slowing down and being more decisive. Again, there’s probably a life lesson there, but I’m not here to beat you over the head with it. (As an aside: I did just get the Welsh word for ‘slow’ tattooed on my wrist. Even in Welsh, it’s a double entendre).
My takeaway from all this is that the Shape of Failure™ involves both hurrying and also being indecisive. Of course, it’s possible to fail slowly and resolutely, but I think it’s easier to chalk those efforts up to “valuable learning experiences,” whereas as the strategy of smashing into stuff, while sometimes effective, doesn’t really help you grasp the Shape of Success, but rather forestall its discovery to a later date.
By the time I’ve articulated all of this to a riding companion, they have usually ridden off to session some other obstacle, and or reminded themselves why they don’t ride with me anymore.
Either way, I call it a win.
The shape of failure seems to be affected by age as well. I discovered this when riding with someone much younger than me. He frames a potential failure in monetary terms – specifically, potential repairs to his bike that he wouldn’t be able to afford. I frame the shape of my potential failure in terms of my future physical ability to ride or not.