Obsession? Addiction? Does it Matter?

[Disclaimer] With this post, I don’t mean to offend anyone with an addiction that is seriously putting their life in jeopardy nor do I intend in any way to minimalize the seriousness of addiction and addictive behavior.

That being said, I’ll admit it. I have a problem. I’m not sure if it’s an addiction or an obsession. Frankly, googling up what the difference is in the two, I’m more unsure than ever.

Whatever it is, all I can think about these days is riding my bike; specifically, riding my mountain bike on singletrack trails.

I mean, doesn’t that look like fun? Doesn’t that look like something you’d wanna do all day every day?

Back in my MUCH younger days, I started skiing as soon as I could walk. Here's a photo of my older sister and I when I was just four years old already comfortable on two skis.

I got my first taste of ski racing sometime around 12 or 13 years old. Soon it was all I could think about; my class notebooks were filled with diagrams of slalom courses, I pored obsessively over every issue of Ski Racing magazine, I knew who were the top-ranked skiers locally, nationally, and internationally, and it eventually led me to Logan, Utah, and Utah State University. For a Midwestern kid who’d learn to race on glare ice - the stuff you put in your drinks - it was easy! And fun - I had some truly incredible days on two skis. Sure, I pushed the boundaries going steeper and deeper and faster, but those were the early days of “extreme skiing” and we did some routes that at the time people claimed were un-skiable, but now are lift-served parts of ski resorts.

But sometime when I was around 21 or 22, I first saw windsurfers zooming around on a windy day. A new obsession (or addiction) took hold and all I could think, dream, and - unfortunately for those around me - talk about, was windsurfing. It’s all I wanted to do.

That sport took me first from Wisconsin to Florida - where it’s summer all year ‘round - and then out here to the Pacific Northwest. At the time the Columbia River Gorge was a boardhead’s Mecca, but then I sailed in the waves at legendary Pistol River - just south of Gold Beach. I’ve lived here ever since and for the first ten years or so - until the second time I barely made it back to shore alive - windsurfing was everything. But settling down with a wife, and a house, and a career, and pets and a yard - basically a typical middle-aged lifestyle - took over as my priorities.

For better and worse, I no longer have the same responsibilities that weened me off of my windsurfing habit and lately, I’ve been getting that same sensation that I had as a junior ski racer and as a young windsurfer.

But this time that feeling is focused on riding more singletrack, or at the least training to be able to ride faster, smoother, stronger. As you can see in this video

I have a LONG way to go before I’m one of those fearless freaks at the Red Bull Rampage, but for now I’m willing to ride this urge, obsession, addiction, or whatever you wanna call it for a while and see where it takes me.