BMXing

When I first decided to embark upon this epic journey to the 2016 Olympics, taking in a dozen different Olympic sports on the way, I have to be honest and say that, of those I picked, BMXing was least likely to be the sport to take me to Rio.  I’m tall (just over 5’11”) and not the skinniest nor most agile of people, so given my high centre of gravity and lack of cat-like reflexes and agility, I always feared that I would end up doing some serious damage, at the very least, to my ego.  In short, I was not looking forward to the BMXing leg of my journey with any great relish.  You can imagine my relief then, when Amos Burke, my BMX coach, texted to tell me that our first appointment would have to be postponed due to the torrential rain hitting much of the country at the end of September.  However, when two further dates were shelved for the same reason, I began to wonder if someone, somewhere, was trying to tell me something.

I decided to take my friend and brand new accomplice Hollie Vincent – also my new photographer – along to the skate & BMX park which was due to have been the venue for my comedic, two-wheeled doom.  The idea was to get a look at the venue so as to acclimatise myself, and to get a few shots.  The first thing to be said is that very sadly, it was raining.  Again.  As Hollie’s fancy camera isn't waterproof, she was reluctant to whip it out and start snapping with abandon, so the weather had foiled me yet again.  What we did manage was to get a good look at the BMX track.  Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff and looked down?  You know the feeling you get when you feel like your legs have turned to jelly and that you’re about to overbalance and plunge over the edge?  Well that’s what I felt like looking down into the pit of the track.  We walked all the way around it, presuming that there must be some kind of slope down into it – surely nobody in their right mind would willingly launch themselves off the edge of a 15-foot high concrete bowl on a tiny, tiny bike?  There was no such slope.  One did indeed have to launch straight into the concrete pit.  And, presumably, hope and pray that your skill and agility can defeat the will of gravity.

Sadly, as my skills still require some honing, I have decided that for the good of the rest of my Olympic assault, I should postpone the BMXing until such time as a) I have bolstered my skill set a little more and b) it’s stopped raining: if there’s one thing guaranteed to hasten my death, it’s a wet track.  Hollie and I will revisit the BMX pit of death as soon as is possible so that I can at least post some pictures to prove that I'm not being a giant wuss.  Or perhaps that I am.  Either way, photographic evidence will be provided.

However I still intend to follow through on my mission; next on the agenda is archery, a far safer venture, at least for me – quite how safe others in the vicinity such as Hollie, will be is a different matter, but at least the chances of my, and therefore my Olympic mission’s survival is far greater. 

Time, date and venue are yet to be confirmed but never fear, Mission 2016 is back on (non-BMX) track and I intend to come back fighting, bow and arrow in hand.  Take cover...