Back in the Saddle, Part 2

MV Agusta F4 & Ducati ST3 in Malibu

It’s been a great day and it’s been a strange day all at the same time.

While I’d like to say that I’m over the effects of my crash, the reality is that it continues to hang over my head like a weight. It haunts me. It scares me. It continues to affect my riding…

While it was great to get up to the canyons and out on the road once more, I continue to find myself lacking the very confidence that I so desperately want to feel.

Each turn, each corner, each bend of the bike feels harder than it should. Almost destined for failure. It’s a feeling that I so, so wish would go away. Yet it doesn’t. Instead it continually permeates my mind. Perhaps that’s the prudent part hard at work. Perhaps this experience will ultimately make me a safer, better street rider…

In that respect I certainly feel as if my ’street riding’ is considerably safer at the moment then it used to be. I’m leaning less, I’m charging slower, and all in all I’m risking less. Yet it’s hard to get over the fact that what once felt easy, suddenly seems so difficult.

Yet I keep telling myself logically that this is all part of a ‘healing’ process, after all having your first crash is a bit of a traumatic event — I’m not suggesting it’s the most traumatic event ever known to a rider, but it was certainly more traumatic for me then perhaps I realized when it happened.

Taking stock, as of tonight, I find myself feeling as if I need to go backwards several steps before I can continue forward, much like the guy who slows down to get faster on the track. Because it’s not the bike or the road conditions or the weather, but rather it’s the stuff inside my head that’s holding me back — it’s the lack of confidence, the lack of trust, the inability to believe that currently is challenging my sense of security on the machine.