I spent last Saturday hanging out at a mountain biking race. I’m not a newbie to bike races, this was my 4th race and Ken’s 6th. Just to be clear – I’m support crew at these races. I don’t bike in the mountains or even off the sidewalk.

Having been around bike races before I was prepared for several things

• Dirt, lots of it.
• Walking from our camp site to the start line 1400 times.
• Great quantities of colourful swearing around my kids.
• Men in various states of undress and tight fitting clothing.
• Watching riders with awe as they power through yet another lap.

I was not prepared for Ken’s team of Old Cranks (that’s really their team name) to come in 2nd in their category and staying for the medal ceremony. Medals are new for us. Yay Old Cranks!

As I sat Saturday afternoon watching riders covered head to toe in sweat and dirt pedal by like they were being chased by fire I said to my husband “I’m going to say this but if you ever repeat it to me I will scream at you. If I was looking to do something that really scared me, this race would be it.”

To his credit he hasn’t repeated it but I could see the new bike stars in his eyes and I expect a mountain bike recommendation soon with some kind of clip in pedal system. Clip in pedals are more terrifying to me than mountain biking.

I am not making any commitments or promises I am only saying that if I wanted to scare the shit out of myself a mountain bike race would be a good start. Perhaps I’ll start by learning to ride my bike on the road like a grown up.