Mountain biking

Every Sunday morning I go mountain biking in the forest with a few friends. We are all in our late thirties and early forties, but we still feel like young gods and also behave that way. We want to give it our all, and we especially want to be the fastest. Boys will be boys!

I do have an S-ICD, but fortunately I can exercise as fanatically as before, despite my genetic disorder. And so I did also last Sunday. As usual, I put on my special shirt with rib protector, this is to fully protect my S-ICD. This protection is essential, as it wouldn't be the first time that I have fallen flat on my face! Cycling shorts and helmet on and I’m ready to go. 

We're taking the 40 kilometer route, a technically difficult track with narrow paths, treacherous pot-holes and slippery bends, awesome! I decide that today, I want to be the fastest, but this is no effortless task: I'm cycling as if my life depends on it. The heart rate monitor is going up and down between 130 and 186, and I'm bouncing all the way down the track. This might sound a bit odd, but especially when I'm mountain biking, I'm really glad that I opted for the S-ICD. I wouldn't be able to bear the thought of the wire (lead) moving up and down with all these vibrations, and thus, I'm so glad that the wire of the S-ICD doesn't go straight into the heart, I feel much less vulnerable.

In short, having an S-ICD is no excuse to hold back and accept 2nd place today. Tired, but very satisfied, I record the fastest time, and I of course can't escape the standard jokes made by my fellow mountain bikers about my "box". That I'm secretly using the S-ICD to electrically drive my bike, or charging my iPhone with it, or whether they can call me when their car battery is flat, and so on.. I'm the one who is laughing the loudest!