Before I was a runner, triathlete, ultra runner and any other category I might put myself in, before I entered any race or even contemplated the idea of a training plan, I was a mountain biker. I can remember going with my dad to the bike shop to get my first mountain bike aged 13, it was a glorious aluminium framed rigid (of course this was the 90’s) Giant with 18 gears and shiny silver bar ends (remember them?!). It was bright yellow, team Giant colour scheme I believe and I thought it was awesome.
Growing up in the quiet Oxfordshire countryside this bike gave me freedom, the chance to explore with mates or ride to the local river to go fishing. We’d ride through the forest to the bomb drops and see if anyone was brave enough to face near certain death trying to drop in on one of the slopes. Faces in awe as a ‘proper’ mountain biker rode through and smashed through the jumps.[…]