What if?

Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! I live for Sundays. Not because I go to church (though I probably should), not because of some weekly family gathering (though that isn't a bad idea considering we all live withing 50 miles of each other), it is because I get to go mountain biking with the Austin Ridge Riders (beginner's group of course).

For me, there is nothing quite like speeding down a hill, crouched above the seat with my weight back over the rear tire, gripping the handlebars with all of my might and hoping I see that gnarly rock/tree stump/root/hole in time to avoid disaster. There is no time for thinking about work/money/life/relationship problems on the trail - you have to be in the moment, keeping your eyes on the trail just ahead of you, focusing on where you want your bike to go, not caring where you've been, just happy that you are still on the damn thing.

I was first introduced to mountain biking while studying abroad in Scotland as part of a bonding weekend in the country somewhere near Loch Ness with my study abroad group. They threw us on beat up mountain bikes, made sure we could steer between narrow obstacles and then lead us on a trail that I swear had the word "death" in the title. After the exhilaration of speeding down a few steep and muddy hills without falling off my bike, I had a huge smile on my face and large trail of mud up my back - I was hooked. Fast forward to almost ten years later and mountain biking still has that same effect on me.

I took a break from mountain biking for a few years in my mid to late twenties, not because I didn't have a bike (I had a pretty decent one collecting dust) but because, well, I don't really know why. I had a bunch of excuses for not going such as "I don't know anyone who likes to mountain bike," "I can't go alone," "I'm not good enough to join a group, "my bike is too old," "the trails are too busy on the weekends,"  "I'm too busy on the weekends," "what if I get hurt?" "I'm not in good enough shape." I finally realized that they were all bullshit excuses covering up various fears and insecurities and the only way I'd get over them was to get back on my mountain bike. I broke out the spandex, looked up free group rides online and found the Austin Ridge Riders - they lead all level rides on Sundays out at Walnut Creek, a mere 15 minutes from my house. I now had a group of people to ride with.

The first time I showed up, I was a little nervous. What if I don't remember how to mountain bike? What if they laugh at my bike? I don't have those fancy disc brakes, the clip-in shoes or the nice camelbak backpack with 100 fluid ounces of water. I just had my old, basic entry level mountain bike, regular plastic water bottle in a cage and my running shoes. What if I am the only girl and hold the group back? What if I fall off? What if, what if, what if?

You, dear reader, might be thinking to yourself "I thought this blog was about her moving to the Seychelles, what the hell does mountain biking have to do with moving?" Stay with me, I swear there is a connection.

About five minutes into my first ride, I had that familiar smile and that delightful trail of mud up my back and realized that I needed to change the tone of my questions. What if I show up and I have a great time? What if I meet some fun, interesting people who like to bike just as much as I do? What if I get better every time I go because I am riding with people who can actually teach me how to ride better? What if I have people who help me out when my bike breaks? What if I now look forward to my Sunday rides more than anything else during the week? 

You see, I asked myself many of those negatively framed questions when I first came across the six month long program in the Seychelles and thought to myself "I could never do something like that." The questions sounded something like this: what if I can't come up with the money? What if I go and I hate it? What if I am not good at scuba diving every day? What if I get homesick? What if I actually get sick? What if the people are terrible? What if I lose all my money? What if I get premature wrinkles from spending so much time in the sun? Seriously, this crossed my mind. What if, what if, what if......

I quickly realized the only thing stopping me was me, my attitude, and the framing of my questions.

What if I can come up with the money? What if I go and I love it? What if I am actually good at scuba diving every day? What if I get in the best shape I've ever been in because I am doing something active all day, every day? What if I meet amazing people? What if this opens up opportunities that I can't even imagine yet? What if I am so happy there I do get wrinkles......from smiling all the dang time?

There is no way to know the answer to these question unless I show up and try something new, scary and incredibly exciting all at the same time.