(n) The olympics of flailing, as in, flailing so epically it should be considered an art form, and judged thusly.

I propose that we begin the flailympics. Mainly because I would win. See, when I ride my bike on trails that are hard, I have one of two mindsets:

1. Just roll over it

2. Are you sure? Yeah, ok.

Which leaves no room for “oh shit, you’re not gonna make it”. So when that inevitably happens… I flail. Thanks to my super sweet new super light carbon fork


Meet (sunburst) Stanley. Aint he purty?

this flailing almost always includes lifting up the front end and dancing around a bit, before realizing I cannot, in fact, unclip my feet. Thus, flailing turns to falling, hopefully not on a big rock or tree stump (although sometimes that happens too).


I sometimes punch rocks. I usually complain about it for a long time.

I would contend, however, that flailing is useful. To me, at least it means I’m trying things that are just a bit outside my comfort zone. Better to have tried and f(l)ailed that to have not tried at all, right? Plus, eventually the flailing turns to flying over logs and branches I never would have even considered riding. So, really, it’s progress. It’s just rarely pretty.



Caroline is better at not flailing, and looking good. Also, council bluff is pretty neat.



One thought on “Flailympics

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s