Interesting read: Is the cost of MTB injuries worth the risk? I'm beginning to reconsider, and other riders are too.
As I become older, I realize there are more MTB risks I'm not willing to take. I still love to jump my bike. However, I may stick with jumping rollers and riding pump tracks when I need my adrenaline dump.
I would like to share a few excerpts from the article and my thoughts.
"Tearing my ACL was one of the worst injuries that I’ve had in my life, requiring not one but two surgeries over the course of two years to finally fix it."
A major injury like this does make me nervous on the trail. I worry about myself long term and being able to care for my daughters.
"But as I sit here in my mid-to-late 30s, reflecting back on these bangs, bumps, and bruises, it doesn’t feel like I’ve gotten off easy. Indeed — even so-called minor injuries can leave you with a host of long-term challenges to deal with."
I didn't start mountain biking until my mid to late 30s after I retired from the military. Man, all this stuff adds up. While this scenario didn't apply to me, please be mindful of your physical health as you age.
"Working at a computer (my daily profession) is often made difficult by arthritis from the hand injury. And my neck and back need constant maintenance to keep both moving properly."
From a veteran perspective, I totally understand this part. My body is beat to hell from all sorts of shenanigans in my life. None of it was from mountain biking. However, injuries and pain are the same regardless how we get them. Whether it's cycling or farting in the kitchen.
"Over the years, I’ve read countless stories about bikepackers covering epic distances in foreign lands with no sleep, and have watched endless videos of freeriders ripping down vertical mountainsides at breakneck speeds. I always find myself inspired: I want to go do those things myself! I want to perform at the elite level."
When i started riding in my mid-30's. I felt the pressing need to catch up. I missed out on 15 years of my life in pursuit of service. I could have used those years to ride my bike much more. However, I would have been stuck in the same old town in NC which has no mountain biking presence.
While I missed out on so many good years of cycling, at least my military career brought me to an area where it's heavily saturated with mountain biking goodness (WA). These days, I must constantly remind myself that I'm not a spring chicken and I need to find other ways to coexist with my mountain biking experience.
“Am I just not badass enough?” I’d ask myself. “Do I need to just try harder, push harder, and tell the pain to fucking go to hell?”
I honestly had this notion in my head space for years. I was in the military! I can handle pain, endless work, and total BS. Yeah, my brain can handle pain, but my body cannot. While I am still pushing myself harder, I'm going about it in a more sensible way. No matter how often I tell my pain to "go to hell," it doesn't actually go to hell. It just sends me there instead. So I learned how to walk through hell. Why not?
My lesson: don't push yourself beyond your physical boundaries. Going above it is fine. Going beyond could lead to trouble.
In her article, Miller argued that professional riders need to stop downplaying their injuries and instead acknowledge how serious they can be: “How can younger riders learn to navigate their setbacks without open conversations about the reality behind injuries? Downplaying the severity of a broken back or a concussion won’t make you stronger — it will only lead to young riders underestimating the risks.”
This does make sense. However, I wonder if being human is why we keep pushing our limits. While serving, I had no one to guide me with regards to aircraft maintenance and my health. It was all about getting the mission done. I felt this mentality may be one of the reasons why I'm beat up to this day. Not just me. Many veterans.
As I mentioned, I’m in my mid-to-late 30s, and I want to keep riding my mountain bike as long as I live. So, when I face down bigger and bigger tabletop jumps, requiring that I go faster and boost higher to clear them, I keep coming back to the question, “Is this worth it?”
I still have a hard time with this one. I missed out on so much. Yet I want to Aim High (I'm a USAF veteran) and have fun with my jumps. I can do them. However, I have my limits due to my own safety.
"While I still have a hard time saying “no” to gnarly tech lines, I’ve also begun to wonder: do I really need to hit every drop and roll the steepest slabs? Do I really need to test myself and push myself here? Or can I push myself in different ways?"
This one is for the new and intermediate riders. If you don't feel compelled to try the feature, don't do it. Your day will come when you are ready. It doesn't matter if it's 8 years later and you still don't feel comfortable. Just leave it be. The feature has been there quite possibly for years. It's not going anywhere.
That's it for my thoughts. Have any of you scaled back your mountain biking due to injury or potential injury? How did the experience shape who you are today?
As I become older, I realize there are more MTB risks I'm not willing to take. I still love to jump my bike. However, I may stick with jumping rollers and riding pump tracks when I need my adrenaline dump.
I would like to share a few excerpts from the article and my thoughts.
"Tearing my ACL was one of the worst injuries that I’ve had in my life, requiring not one but two surgeries over the course of two years to finally fix it."
A major injury like this does make me nervous on the trail. I worry about myself long term and being able to care for my daughters.
"But as I sit here in my mid-to-late 30s, reflecting back on these bangs, bumps, and bruises, it doesn’t feel like I’ve gotten off easy. Indeed — even so-called minor injuries can leave you with a host of long-term challenges to deal with."
I didn't start mountain biking until my mid to late 30s after I retired from the military. Man, all this stuff adds up. While this scenario didn't apply to me, please be mindful of your physical health as you age.
"Working at a computer (my daily profession) is often made difficult by arthritis from the hand injury. And my neck and back need constant maintenance to keep both moving properly."
From a veteran perspective, I totally understand this part. My body is beat to hell from all sorts of shenanigans in my life. None of it was from mountain biking. However, injuries and pain are the same regardless how we get them. Whether it's cycling or farting in the kitchen.
"Over the years, I’ve read countless stories about bikepackers covering epic distances in foreign lands with no sleep, and have watched endless videos of freeriders ripping down vertical mountainsides at breakneck speeds. I always find myself inspired: I want to go do those things myself! I want to perform at the elite level."
When i started riding in my mid-30's. I felt the pressing need to catch up. I missed out on 15 years of my life in pursuit of service. I could have used those years to ride my bike much more. However, I would have been stuck in the same old town in NC which has no mountain biking presence.
While I missed out on so many good years of cycling, at least my military career brought me to an area where it's heavily saturated with mountain biking goodness (WA). These days, I must constantly remind myself that I'm not a spring chicken and I need to find other ways to coexist with my mountain biking experience.
“Am I just not badass enough?” I’d ask myself. “Do I need to just try harder, push harder, and tell the pain to fucking go to hell?”
I honestly had this notion in my head space for years. I was in the military! I can handle pain, endless work, and total BS. Yeah, my brain can handle pain, but my body cannot. While I am still pushing myself harder, I'm going about it in a more sensible way. No matter how often I tell my pain to "go to hell," it doesn't actually go to hell. It just sends me there instead. So I learned how to walk through hell. Why not?
My lesson: don't push yourself beyond your physical boundaries. Going above it is fine. Going beyond could lead to trouble.
In her article, Miller argued that professional riders need to stop downplaying their injuries and instead acknowledge how serious they can be: “How can younger riders learn to navigate their setbacks without open conversations about the reality behind injuries? Downplaying the severity of a broken back or a concussion won’t make you stronger — it will only lead to young riders underestimating the risks.”
This does make sense. However, I wonder if being human is why we keep pushing our limits. While serving, I had no one to guide me with regards to aircraft maintenance and my health. It was all about getting the mission done. I felt this mentality may be one of the reasons why I'm beat up to this day. Not just me. Many veterans.
As I mentioned, I’m in my mid-to-late 30s, and I want to keep riding my mountain bike as long as I live. So, when I face down bigger and bigger tabletop jumps, requiring that I go faster and boost higher to clear them, I keep coming back to the question, “Is this worth it?”
I still have a hard time with this one. I missed out on so much. Yet I want to Aim High (I'm a USAF veteran) and have fun with my jumps. I can do them. However, I have my limits due to my own safety.
"While I still have a hard time saying “no” to gnarly tech lines, I’ve also begun to wonder: do I really need to hit every drop and roll the steepest slabs? Do I really need to test myself and push myself here? Or can I push myself in different ways?"
This one is for the new and intermediate riders. If you don't feel compelled to try the feature, don't do it. Your day will come when you are ready. It doesn't matter if it's 8 years later and you still don't feel comfortable. Just leave it be. The feature has been there quite possibly for years. It's not going anywhere.
That's it for my thoughts. Have any of you scaled back your mountain biking due to injury or potential injury? How did the experience shape who you are today?