I’ve been pretty open about how much of a mental challenge it has been for me to transition into enduro racing from my cross country background. Coming back from injury, I’ve tried to step away from the high performance expectations that I put on myself and find a place where I can be freed to perform because my focus is more occupied by having fun riding bikes with my friends.

Especially at the first enduro race of the season, the West Virginia Enduro Series race #1 at Kanawha State Forest in Charleston, WV, I intentionally chose to ride with a group of guys who, though still phenomenal riders, are less focused on performance and winning than on just enjoying a big day on the bike. This strategy, combined with visualization, focusing on skill mantras, and mental reframing of the race, really seemed to help with managing some of the anxiety that plagues me during enduro races. I was stoked to finish the race clean, with no crashes, and content knowing that I hadn’t found my speed again post-injury, but that I was slowly and intentionally building confidence again on the bike.

Last weekend, I jumped into a local community enduro race, the Bryce Downduro, and was surprised to find myself on the top step of the podium. Yes, I felt like I rode the courses well, but I wasn’t even treating it as a race–my two race runs were just speed laps of an otherwise fun day doing party laps at the bike park. But it got my hopes up that just maybe I could be competitive this year.

The second West Virginia Enduro Series race was at Cacapon State Park in Berkeley Springs, WV, and I was notably less anxious in the weeks leading up to the race than I had been for the first race. The B-Team Racing crew invited me to hang out with them for the race weekend, which not only provided a great opportunity to build community and be a part of a team, but also the distraction of riding with friends who, though competitive, were more focused on fun than on race performance.

On race day, after stage 3, I felt like I was riding really well and began to wonder if, possibly, I had a chance to contend for the podium–or even the win. Then, on both stages 4 and 5, I crashed. I wasn’t hurt, but it made me angry. I was riding so well… and then just fell over. After the crash on stage 5, I was sure I’d given any chance of the podium away…and really struggled to not just be angry at myself. For me at least, when performance goals creep in and become the focus, it’s really hard to maintain the “enduro bro” chill attitude–and the fun of racing seems to seep away.

In the end, I won the race by nearly a minute.

For me, stepping away from a performance-oriented mindset and more towards a “enduro-bro” community-centered focus has been a positive shift–with seeming performance benefits. Sure, I am still putting in the work (both from a skills/fitness and mindset perspective), but re-orienting myself towards the fun in mountain bike racing, is, well, more fun.

The irony of this is that I typed (most) of this before starting Stage 1 of the Transylvania Epic Stage Race–where I was more performance-oriented (it’s XC after all), and feeling really good sitting in second place about a third of the way through the stage–and flatted massively–and spent ~45 minutes off and on over the next 5 miles alternately putting tubes in, flatting, taking them out and putting CushCore back in, riding on just CushCore, and repeating the entire process. Maybe I should bring some of the enduro-bro mindset into my XC racing too….