This has been sitting on my laptop for a while, but due to a 33% increase in my working week and life in general being busy, today’s the first chance I’ve had to post it!

This last month, I’ve done over 200 miles on my motorbike, so I’ve had plenty of time to observe my hindbrain in action.

I guess this is different for different people, but the one thing that’s struck me is how much we humans like to think we’re autonomous beings.  We’re rational creatures, fully under our own conscious control.  We can reason, observe, think and react rationally.

Or at least, that’s what we tell ourselves.

That illusion has been somewhat shattered for me.  While I enjoy riding a motorbike, I have a number of what I suppose I could term run-time conflicts.

For example, I’m on a local road I know well, with a 50mph speed limit.  In the car, I’d have no problem doing this road at the speed limit, slowing appropriately for the corners.

On the bike, however, it’s a different story, particularly on right-hand bends.

My gut instincts want me to freeze, to tense up and just hold myself where I am, and get myself as far away from that far left edge of the road as possible.  So I instantly head towards the white line.  Which is a dangerous place to be.

It’s hard doing corners when your hindbrain is screaming “There’s the kerb.  Kerb.  Keep AWAY from the KERB.  KERB.  KERB!!”  Quite what my brain is expecting, I’m not sure.  It’s not like the kerb can ambush me, like a vicious gang of Keep Left signs.

Left handers, however, I have no problem with.  Because my accident happened on a right hander.

Learning to ride is far more of a mental battle than I expected it to be.  I thought getting back on the bike would be the hardest part.  It certainly wasn’t easy, and sometimes I’m frustrated that the battle is still continuing, with not much of a let-up.  Luckily*, I’m bloody-minded and stubborn, and I don’t want to give up something that is tremendously good fun.

That bloody-mindedness is still keeping me going.

Even now, before every time I get on a bike, I have a massive emotional wobble of fear and worry – whether I’m going just down the road, or venturing slightly further afield.  Every single time, I have to choose whether I want to give in to that fear.  Of course, it’s an easier and sometimes more tempting option … but I know that if I do give in, I grant that fear a bit more of a foothold, and I make it harder for myself to choose to ride next time.  I cling on and hope that one day, the fear might start to recede.  Because nine times out of ten, when I’m out there, and the sun is shining, I love being on two wheels, even with only 125cc underneath me.

*I say luckily, but it probably depends on your perspective…