It’s funny, isn’t it? Three days of adren­alin pumping sport makes the real world seem really dull.

After spend­ing a couple of weeks off the bike (due to illness) I got back on them in a big way over the weekend, pedalling up and down hills and gener­ally riding like a complete loon.

I’m strug­gling with the not braking before launch­ing myself into the air thing.

First there was the cross-country riding, pound­ing up Aggs Hill like it wasn’t there, with the Prodigy blast­ing in through my earphones. I was disap­poin­ted by Always Outnumbered Never Outgunned when it first came out, but several of the tracks have now got me ensnared, and you can’t beat their trade­mark pound­ing basslines can you?

Obviously the absolute murder­ing of the opening climb left me feeling broken for the rest of the ride, but it was ace nonethe­less. I explored a few cheeky trails (most were completely bobbins), rode through a field of cows, got completely lost before popping out into Andoversford with one of those “Oh, I’m here!” moments, and found a weird trail that was a footpath one in one direc­tion and a bridle­way the other. I rebelled and followed the yellow arrows. Bimbling across Gloucestershire in the sunshine. Can’t beat it.

Then there was the downhilling (dude!). I nearly nailed one of the step-downs. It shouldn’t be a big thing but I’m strug­gling with the not-braking-before-launching-myself-into-the-air thing. Damn my sense of self-preservation. I also nearly ate the rock garden (liter­ally). I lost the front wheel on the way in and found myself diving head-first over the handle­bars. Fight or flight kicked in — everything slows down in those situations and you’re able to guide yourself into the nice soft under­growth to one side of the trail. Sense of self preser­va­tion to the rescue, dammit! Alas I lost one of the preload adjusters from my forks in the impact. Then there was the catch­ing shoulders on passing trees, dragging arms through brambles, pulling muscles and so on.

Despite the bruis­ing it was ace fun. The trails are now officially scary fast. I keep replay­ing a couple of sections in my mind: Letting go of the brakes, flying down to the little drop, then whoop… There’s a second of silence, before the WHUMPH! Tyres recon­nect with the trail, the shock takes the worst of the impact, then you’re concen­trat­ing hard on guiding the bike down through the trees — vvvvrrr­ruuuurrrrmmmm! You can really feel the tyres working overtime there. Brings a smile to my face every time.

The final section of the track is a monster. I had a few runs through there when everything just clicked. I was making almost subcon­scious correc­tions to my line as I dropped through the bombhole — steer­ing without even think­ing. Methinks the confid­ence is coming back in a big way.

Then today I came back to earth with a thump. I struggled to drag myself out of bed. I was sat at work finding that writing some HTML and some partic­u­larly complex CSS to go with it held none of its usual geek-challenge. Every website in the world seems dull, there’s nothing even remotely excit­ing on the telly and I’m feeling more than a little bit knackered.

Have. To. Get. Outside.

Have. To. Ride. Bike. Again.