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I’m going to ask you a question, and you need to answer me honestly: do you ever talk to yourself? C’mon, you know you do and you’re not alone. You just answered “no” to yourself after you read my question. We talk to ourselves all the time, whether we know it or not. Maybe we don’t stand on the corner waiting for the crossing signal muttering under our breath to ourselves and looking funny, but we’re always having a conversation about something. And occasionally, it can be quite amusing to listen to those conversations that you have with yourself.
On my last trail ride, I had an occasion to peek in on not one but eight conversations I had with myself. Unfortunately I was actually quite surprised with the lunatic on one end of the conversation. Let’s call my conscious mind “me” and let’s call my subconscious thoughts “myself.”
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Myself: “You won’t be able to clear that drop/jump/chute/skinny”
Me: “Shut your pie-hole ‘fella. I know I can clear this, I know I’ve got the skill. If I DON’T clear it, it’ll be because you’re keeping me from clearing it”
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Myself: “Your legs are really burning and your muscles are fatigued. Time to give up and take a rest, sissy.”
Me: “Why rest? I’m going at a good pace, and stopping now would kill my flow. I can modify my stroke a little bit and change my gearing just enough to make it a little easier and my legs will recover. I’ll keep moving and keep up the flow.”
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Myself: “Yeowch, if you could only see the nasty impression the saddle is leaving back here.”
Me: “Yeowch. That does smart. I’ll deal with it when I get back home, but for now I’ve got some singletrack to rock. Now zip it.”
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Myself: “You can’t keep up with those guys. You know they ride more than you, they have better bikes than you, and they’re more skilled than you are.”
Me: “Dude, you’re really a negative Nancy aren’t you? I can keep up with them just fine. It doesn’t matter what they’re riding or how often they ride. If they’re truly better riders, they will make me better just by riding with them.”
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Myself: “That guy’s got a really sick bike. We could be riding something like that you know?”
Me: “Yeah, I know, that thing is sick! But we’re riding something that performs just as well, and I’m proud of this Kona I’ve built up. If I ever have gobs of spare cash, maybe, I’ll see things your way; But not today.”
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Myself: “Oh great, a flat. Isn’t that just wonderful? Now the day’s going to be ruined with mechanical problems.”
Me: “It’s not ruined, I’ll just sit and talk to my buddies while I fix it, and then we’ll be off for some more fun. Chill out wild man.”
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Myself: “This freaking bottom bracket/crank/fork/brake set/shifter/derailleur just isn’t installing correctly. PIECE OF $H!T”
Me: “Whoa man, slow your roll jumpy. There must be some logical explanation. Let’s check it out, and if there IS nothing wrong and you still want to throw it, we’ll come to an agreement.”
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Myself: “HA HA! YOU CRASHED! YOU LOOK LIKE SUCH A TOOL!”
Me: “Do I care what all these people think? They’ve all crashed before, I’m sure. I’ll bet they don’t even say anything about it.”
 I know that most of you have had at least a few of these thoughts. There are points to all that muck though. If you actually let your subconscious dictate your skills, your attitude and your ability to have fun, you’ll be a dead man on the trail or in the workshop. Think about it for just a moment. When are you having your best runs or the most fun? If you’re anything like me, you’re having the best rides of your life when you’re shutting out that little nagging negative voice inside you and just letting the equipment work beneath you. Mind you, this doesn’t mean you ignore it all the time, especially if it’s telling you NOT to do something that you very well know is well beyond your capabilities. Thin is the line between skill and stupidity.
The true secret to success is learning what to listen to and what to ignore. It may surprise you to witness the conversations you’ll hear going on in your dome. But still…don’t respond to that little voice out loud. You’ll look like a moron out there. I’m not sure if that advice came from “me” or “myself”.
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