Impressions; Thank you.

 My first smile after the fear was gone. © Katrin Stöhr

Oh no, more than one post a month, no good! Waking up at 4:40am and not falling asleep after an exhausting weekend because my brain is exploding with thoughts, no good either. This huge overflow of thoughts made my fingers so eager to hit the keyboard that I already have to get everything out.

Yesterday, the last race of the iXS German Downhill Cup took place. Not the last race of my season, but the last race of the big season. 

I hinted in my last post that right now is not the ideal time for the relationship between me and my bike. Even if writing down that my doubts are caused by irrational emotions and that none of them are necessary helped me a lot, I still struggle hard to withdraw myself from them. 

The good news is, I finally finished one race, the race yesterday. The bad news is, I'm back to zero. Back to where I was when everything started. And I think it's time for me, to write it out.

The thing with my overthinking comes with a lot of self-consciousness and self-doubt, which is not really a good combination. The older I get, the better I deal with it, I do my best to be a better person every day and work on myself as hard as I can. I grew a lot of tolerance towards myself which also led to a big tolerance towards everything and everybody else around me which in turn led to a kind of inner peace. 

But then there is this thing with riding. 

I clearly remember the moment eight (!) years ago, when my hands touched the bars of a Mountainbike for the first time and I felt that I finally found my missing piece.
One week later I broke my collarbone for the first time. 

These two moments are the best representatives of all the eight years on my bike: Heaven and Hell.

And when I think about it right now, I honestly have no answer why I kept riding back then. The only thing I remember is the ridiculous amount of effort I gave to keep riding. It just meant everything to me. My several injuries and surgeries in my first years led to a lot of headwinds, especially in my family. My passion got judged as a phase of puberty, as a rebellion against my parents, as a stupid mood that would go away, I was basically ridiculed every day. In school, I was the weirdo wearing boxer shorts under her pants who only had one topic to talk about: her bike. (I still love you guys, HOPE!)
Also under my riding-friends, I was the clumsy, half-assed bitch who constantly broke her collarbone. 

But when I sat on my bike, put my feet on the pedal and did the first pedal strokes, nothing mattered anymore. Every single time I thought everything was worth it. Heaven and Hell.

The hardest thing for me was and still is hurting my mom. She always suffered under a huge amount of sorrow every time I went out with my bike. I started lying a lot, telling I would to something else instead of riding, I hid every bruise and I even tried to hide my second fracture. I didn't want her to worry but I couldn't quit either. Heaven and Hell. 

Someday we found a way, I took care and my mom started tolerating it and I got used to being completely alone and without any support, I myself was my biggest fan. Just me and my bike.

But there were always periods where all the wounds and fights forced me on my knees, when standing against the constant headwind got exhausting. I wanted to quit so often. These moments when I realized that I don't make any progress, that everything I did bored me. But I also was too scared to take the next step. This was usually the moment when I changed the discipline which only helped for a certain period of time. I basically ran away. In combination with my deliberation, this mindset developed into a control issue over the years. Every step forward was a potential danger. 

All of this was meant to change when I first met the people who I am allowed to call my loveliest friends now. When my last boyfriend (I don't like the word 'ex') and I went on our first bike trip together in Lac Blanc, I met this his friends, this huge crowd of crazy people, and they welcomed me so warmly. The moment when all of them waited for me at the chairlift and waved at me was the BEST thing ever, nobody did that for me before. We rode the whole day together in our big group and I was never this happy on my bike. But not only them, also my boyfriend was patient and supportive, showing me lines and techniques and acting SO cute when he asked if it was ok to ride without me. Unconditional support for the first time and I finally realized how much I needed that. Half a year later I moved to the town where all this lovely people live, my boyfriend wasn't my boyfriend anymore but the happiness stayed. I felt welcome. And at home. So amazing!

Hometrails absurfen von Prezi - Mehr Mountainbike-Videos

I finally found the courage to move forward, I got faster and better on the bike, I started to reach my dream to ride the way I knew I could. Because there was a handful of people who believed in me. Even my mom was proud of me, showing around pictures of me riding and making them her screensaver. I felt (and still feel) so incredibly blessed.

I even got so cocky that I wanted to start racing again, so I registered for some races.

And as if I wasn't lucky enough, already on the first race this year I found my "racing-family", a handful of amazing people who took me under their wing. Also with incredible, unconditional support. (Coffee in the morning, cooking dinner, fixing my bike, packing my stuff, bathing in rivers, taking pictures of me...Thank you so, so much.) I really struggle to find the right words to describe the gratefulness I feel every day.

©extreme-pics.de / Benjamin Prescher

So, where are we now? I finished one of four races, I crashed countless times, I was shaken with fear over the last few weeks, all of my progress is gone. How did that happen? I got pushed back into my headwind-tunnel and I immediately ate shit, helpless without my safety-cushions.

Because even with the greatest amount of support and love, change doesn't come overnight. 

For me, every ride is a fight. I have good days when I can turn off my head and I have the days when I burst into tears because I feel the blockage coming up, which are actually the most days. 

I take this baggage on every ride with me and to be honest, I don't know how to get rid of it.

© Katrin Stöhr

But there are also a few things I know: Last weekend, I got from shaking fear on the first day to a 20-sec improvement on the last day and all thanks to the kind words of all the people around me. 

I sat in the chairlift and the nice guy next to me asked how I feel on the track and when I told him that I was  scared as hell, he told me to just keep riding, no matter how fast and one moment the fear will be gone - and he was right. (Thank you Mr. Unknown)

My result was SO bad, but everybody around me was supportive and lovely and to be honest, this was exactly what I needed because I still don't know what to do next.

I feel like quitting again, I'm starting from zero. AGAIN. There's no way to run now, this is the end. 

Three choices: Quitting, stop acting like a crybaby or leaving it how it is. 

Somebody said, there's a difference between quitting and letting go. Maybe I should finally let go. 

But no matter what, all I want to say is thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For every single lovely word, hug, text, call. Especially the hugs, they mean the most to me. Thank you. 

You all have no idea how happy you make me!

Support the people you love. And also the people you don't love, you never know how badly somebody needs a few kind words. Be tolerant, be kind. Always. It can change peoples lives! 

Love,

pwp

Photo Material; Hafjell - Learning By Doing

These pictures are the result of one of the most exciting things that I experienced in Hafjell.
I accompanied Nathan Hughes at his work.
Nathan is a professional photographer who reports about the UCI Downhill World Cup for pinkbike.com. The days before I noticed that sports photography really is an art in itself so it felt like a nice coincidence that he agreed taking me with him.
Expensive equipment already does half of the work but Nathan explained to me what makes a picture 'look professional'. So he thrusted me his second camera in my hands, adjusted the basic things for me and I tried to capture what I imagined to be decent. I got caught by a lot of beginners luck I think, maybe the fact that I ride myself and follow a lot of photography blogs helped me, but I basically just pushed the button.
Due to the fact that I won't be able to pursue the field of sports photography for now (even if I really started to like it) I experimented around with the pictures I took and didn't put a watermark on them.
I also took a few others on my Dirt Mag Intern Blog, feel free to check them out.

The main reason I upload hits stuff is, that I hope I could make at least one rider happy! I like making people happy. So feel free to share, use, copy...whatever you like! You can contact me here if you want one of the pics in full resolution. Just do me the favor and tell your friends that there's a cool blog waiting on this URL... haha.

And don't you dare to forget to check out Nathans Photo Epic Days on Pinkbike! Pure art.

Love,

pwp

Impressions; Hafjell - Livin' the Internlife

A few days passed, I got my sleep back, reports are done, clothes are clean, the gastank is full and my mind slowly followed by body back home.

So I finally took the time to browse through all the pictures I took on my Hafjell trip. I got the opportunity to visit the Downhill Worldchamps which took place in Norway this year and report about them. How did that happen? The Dirt Mag Germany offered kind of an intern program designed for the event, I classically applied and got chosen. I travelled together with Schwalbe Tires, helped them with their work and simultaneously documented my experiences online on Dirt Mag. To be honest, I talked myself blue in the face about this trip, so I'm gonna keep it short and let the rest of the pictures talk that didn't make it to the page.
In case you want to read more about my Hafjell Blog, check it out here. 
(all of the blogs in are in german)

Amusingly, I managed to infect the Schwalbe Team with my Huccimania! So his songs were humming at our booth all day long, perfect.

Love,
pwp

Impressions; When Your Mind Is Your Biggest Enemy

Last weekend I went to my first and only race this year.

It was the third stop of the iXS German Downhill Cup in Ilmenau, I went there four years ago and I loved the track so much that I decided to give it a try again.

I went through a lot of progress over the past six months and felt the way I wanted to feel on the bike so I had the confidence to compete against the clock.

The weeks before the race I've been busy with studying for my final exam and I touched my bike only once but I was completely okay with it, I just wanted to focus on studying.

My feelings towards the race got worse every day the weekend came closer but I didn't worry, I felt confident, studying went well, my mind was set and happy.

On the road to Ilmenau I already set plans for my runs and was excited for the roots, rocks and jumps that awaited us on the track.

But the minute we arrived and the finish area caught my eye, my mind got flooded. What if you crash? What if you can't do your exam? What if you don't jump? What if you get in the way in practice? What if your bike smashes again? What if you miss your start? What if you don't sleep well? What if you don't eat enough? What if the others laugh at you? What if your physical condition lacks? What if you forget the lines you want to take?

What if you crash? What if you crash? What if you crash? It just wouldn't stop.

The first night I didn't sleep a second, I stared at the ceiling of the tent and watched it dawn while my thoughts did threesixtys over and over again, not nearly as beautiful as Brandon Semenuks.

I was grateful that I had to get up for the trackwalk so my thoughts finally got interrupted.

The track looked super fun, just like Ilmenau promised it to be, so I forgot my fatigue and got excited for practice. The first thing I said when I spotted the roadgap right after the start of the track was 'nope, not gonna do that!' but the more I stared at it the more I thought 'but you could do that...why not?'

So I got even more excited for practice, I went to the shuttle laughing and singing, walked up the start as happy as I could be.

I clipped in and rolled towards the first jump and the fatigue took over. But I still stood my ground and decided to save up my energy for tomorrow and sunday, so I just rolled down and watched the others.

Fortunately I managed to sleep and I got up with full motivation, we went to practice really early so we could do at least one run without too many other riders on track.

But I just didn't get it together. I was on the brake the whole way down, I literally stood and watched at every single mothereffin root. Not to mention the jumps! They were so far away like Whistler Blackcomb.

I rode like I never, ever sat on a bike before. The only thing I managed well was the rock garden, which in fact usually is the only thing I can't manage.

I still didn't lose my optimism! I wanted to roll down relaxed in my Seeding Run and see how it goes. But it was over the moment I passed the timekeeping and was alone on track. 'Don't crash, don't crash, don't crash, don't crash, don't crash' I repeated in my head like a manic idiot. My run was one single mistake, there was no root I didn't look at and no grass stalk I didn't count. I even had the time to think about turning right or left!

I crossed the finish line and looked at my time, it slapped me right in the face: You. Just. Failed. 'You are too stupid to bring your performance right on the point, look at it! Look!' said the clock and my facade slowly broke down: I realized that I'm not by anywhere near able to turn my head off and make use of my capabilities.

I was so incredibly devastated. Everything was gone, my confidence, my happiness, my beliefs, my optimism. I just didn't understand what blocked me so hard.

I was so ashamed of myself that I hid somewhere far away from the happenings. 'What the hell are you doing? Talking big like you would fly over the track with your eyes closed and now this? Why do you act like a big crybaby?' The feeling of knowing what I'm capable of and seeing what I bring down here made me so mad at myself that it took me a couple of hours to calm down. I realized I was simply scared of not being able to take my exam, that they wouldn't let me retake it when I'm injured. This final exam decides over my future and I realized that this fact didn't leave me as cold as I claimed. I don't have the 'Yolo-Mode' I talked myself into. I'm not the badass I wanted to be. The badass who smashes a race the week before a much more important event. The fact that nobody comforted me or told me that it's okay to be scared didn't make it easier, so I became obsessed with justifications while the pressure in my head completely peaked. 'Now you have to jump, now you have to jump, now you have to jump' was the next loop my thoughts raced.

Fortunately I managed to take myself out of it, one girl competing in my category said: 'You don't earn money with biking, with your degree you do.' So I decided to take no risk and just get over with my racerun.

It was more calm than the day before until I almost hit the barrier tape after the rock garden and landed in a mat right after. I even heard a little kid shouting 'Look how slow she is!' Kids are honest little beasts. So my time was even slower than in my Seeding Run. The display got to see my middle finger and I hid again to calm down. Even if I accepted my rational decision, the taste of devastation was incredibly bitter.

I didn't even feel any exhaustion of my muscles and lungs, the literal proof for: You chickened out.
And still, no single word of comfort, no trace of support, which made my result even more horrible. Do I deserve this? Am I that stupid? In my head, I was left as the big talking idiot who failed. 

To outsiders, this story may seem as the first world problems of a wannabe hobby racer who suffers under loss of reality and an exaggerated opinion of oneself (that's how I felt the whole weekend and still feel) but apart from the level of riding, I think pressure and not satisfying oneselves expectations is a problem that everybody has to fight but nobody brings up, especially in 'our' discipline. In the end, it's your time in cold print and nothing else. No story. No justifications. Just your time and your placement, that's what people see, your friends see, your rivals, your sponsors. That's a hell of a lot of pressure and I want to express my honest respect to every racer who is able to perform under this form of pressure and expectation.
But I also want to compliment all the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, girlfriends, boyfriends, grandmas and uncles, team mates and coaches who support their loved ones, no matter what. Sometimes you just don't find the way yourself and you are the ones who always help by just being there. 

I'm aware of the fact that I think and talk way too much and I probably will never be able to turn my head completely off to perform, but I won't give up and make use of all the lessons I learned instead. I want to adjust my mind with my body, I want to learn how to focus and perform. I understand that a lot was caused by my habit to downplay important factors, but that's another thing I want to work on.
But at first, I'm gonna study the shit out of my books and get over my exam. Focus!

Long story short: I understood the true meaning of 'That's racing!'


Camo & Krooked brought me back up yesterday, especially this timeless gem.

One of my countless braking-moments, right before a jump. At least I looked good, huh?
Source: T-Wood

Love,
pwp

Action; Finally Free

I still can't believe it - I got my driver's licence! And a car!
After 12 days, I already made over 1500km, almost all of it for riding my bike somewhere. I really don't know how to describe this feeling, to be able to ride whenever I feel the need to. Pure happiness!
The final missing piece of the puzzle.
I'm aware of the fact that for most of the people it's completely unspectacular to drive a car, but to me it's a complete blessing.
So today I finally visited the home trail of my girl Kathi and we seized the moment for some pictures.
The mood of the light totally reminded me of my timeless favourite 'Deep Summer Slide show' with Brandon Semenuk. Too bad we're not in Whistler!





The music comes with a classic today, I have no USB port on my car radio, so I got all of the CD's Kathi had left - this one was my favourite.
Enjoy!

This time, I unfortunately didn't manage to capture Kathi properly...photography really isn't my thing.
Thank you so much for taking tons of great shots of me instead!!

Love,
pwp

Action; Bikecheck

The ones who follow me on Instagram (@karlamagkekse) already know: My bike completely fell apart last month.

To be honest, I never really took care of my baby because it constantly beared with me so I thought it will keep on doing that forever. But yeah, as every tough cookie, one day it breaks apart. While my old fork leaked oil for a whole year and didn't abandon me until I got the money for a new one, the day I built in the new one, it all just went downhill. (3 euros in the punbox, ladies) 

My bottom bracket blocked my cranks, the gasket of my front brake bowed off, my new fork leaked, too.

Naturally, all of it happened the minute I arrived at the bikepark!

The fellows at the bikestation had a lot to laugh that day, the mechanic made money without helping me someway, but in the end the chief was too kind to lend me a bike for free. But yeah, I think it was the worst day of my life anyway. 

Completely devastated by my injured baby, I didn't know who to ask for help. 

Fortunately, the help found me in the form of the chief of Radsport Siegerland. 

They just fixed EVERYTHING, it feels like a new bike! I learned my lesson and will keep on taking care of my baby. Thank you so much! The week after, I lost my rear axle...but that's another story. (At least now I have a pretty Rock Shox Maxle Lite)

I planned on a bikecheck for a long time, but now my dumpy finally is pretty and clean enough!

Kai Wachi again...I'm not sorry! 

Frame: Cove Shocker DH, Size M, raw

Shock: Fox DHX RC2, 350x3,25 spring

Fork: Rock Shox Boxxer RC

Rims: Mavic EX721

Rear Hub: DT Swiss 340, 150x12mm

Front Hub: Hope Pro II

Tires: Maxxis Minion DHF 2,5 60a 

Brakes: Hope Tech V2

Shifter: Sram X.0, 9-speed

Rear Derailleur: Sram X.7, 9-speed

Cassette: Sram PG-950, 11-28t

Chain Guide: 77 Designz Freesolo SL

Chain Ring: Sixpack Chainsaw, 36t

Cranks: Truvativ Descendant, 165mm

Pedals: Shimano PD-M424

Seat: Nukeproof Plasma 

Seatpost: Funn V3

Seat Clamp: Da Bomb Bomb QR

Bar: Nukeproof Warhead 750, 20mm rise

Grips: Answer Fall Line Grips DH

Love, 

pwp