Flow Reimagined: A Journey Beyond the Ordinary

Have you ever witnessed a rider stomp a perilous line and then erupt in a triumphant roar with clenched fists? That moment is pure survival relief—a cathartic release from the tension of an intense, self-imposed challenge that pushed the edge of necessity.

As riders, we often push ourselves into a form of flow state to tackle risky lines. While these risks can have merits (ones I’m intimately familiar with), they are frequently driven by external incentives: the pursuit of thrills, praise, and high-fives. Without discernment, we exploit flow to keep ourselves safe–just for the adrenaline hit–until we push a little too far.

The flow state in mountain biking today is in flux. Under the influence of societal pressure, we’re left blind to flow’s full potential. Instead of tapping into its deep essence, we chase a counterfeit version—one rooted in performance metrics, social media praise, and quick thrills.

If you’re an avid mountain biker, you may have unknowingly lost access to a pure, enriching flow state.

It’s time to step back, reflect, and evolve as a community of riders. Mountain biking isn’t a niche sport anymore; it’s gone mainstream. The depth and substance we glimpse on the trail—that deeper potential we intuitively sense—feels increasingly out of reach.

This essay explores the revered flow state, not as it’s commonly understood, but as a deeper, more intentional experience that has the potential to help us evolve as riders and humans.

The Perils of Vicarious Flow

Why do so many people, even those who don’t ride, love watching pros execute incredible feats on their bikes? To perform at a high level, these athletes are likely in a form of flow state, and by watching them, we enter their flow state vicariously, whether from the audience, or more commonly from the comfort of our screens. It’s captivating—these visuals jolt us out of our everyday minds as we observe riders pushing physical limits.

However, not all flow states are created equal. The riders we watch often force themselves into flow through risk, silencing their minds to rely on their riding skills for safety. This is especially true when a camera is rolling, though this glory-seeking can throw off risk calculations—a key reason our sport is riddled with injuries.

For us, the viewers, this vicarious flow is a low-risk buzz. We scroll our feeds, detached and passive, seeking the next rush. We praise the riders and give them our attention, and they, in turn, get paid in bike parts, cash, or attention. Their jobs and identities become tied to this endless cycle of risk-induced flow, sustained by eyeballs glued to screens. It’s a sad state, one perpetuated by the wizardry of algorithms. And it’s addictive.

Forced Flow: A Surface Experience

A forced flow state is driven by survival instincts and performance pressures. It’s a ‘low-res’ experience, because it reduces flow to a tool for personal achievement and external validation. We, as riders and viewers, have become trapped in this cycle. These patterns are deeply embedded in mountain biking culture, but they’re also a reflection of broader societal forces.

Here’s a slightly different take on flow. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the psychologist who popularized the concept of flow, described it as: "The best moments in our lives are not the passive, receptive, relaxing times... The best moments usually occur if a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile."

But what is “worthwhile”? And what are “the best moments in our lives”? Csikszentmihalyi wrote his book on flow in 1991, before social media and the digital age reshaped our world. Today, the forced flow state may check the boxes for the best moments and worthwhile pursuits, but only through the narrow lens of our current culture. We validate these moments by voting with our likes and views. While meaningful instances of risk-induced flow exist, many mountain bikers are ready to transcend these fleeting thrills. Yet, the path to something higher isn’t always clear.

Chance Flow: A Gift from the Trail Gods

An alternative to forced flow is what I call “chance flow.” This type of flow feels more like a gift—a spontaneous alignment of focus, motion, and nature. It can hit when you least expect it, often leaving a lasting imprint on your soul. These moments strike more deeply and supernaturally, offering a glimpse of something greater than ourselves. They don’t require risk; they just require presence.

This chance flow may better align with Csikszentmihalyi’s idea of a “best moment”—a moment of awe that feels enriching rather than draining. Yet, even this type of flow is unpredictable. It feels magical but still lacks intentionality or direction.

Choice Flow: Flow by Design

This brings us to the idea of choice flow—intentionally cultivating flow through presence and purpose. By developing your capacity for focus and aligning your riding with a larger life purpose, you can increase your chances of entering the flow state by design rather than by chance or risk.

The practices that cultivate choice flow, like meditation, aren’t just for achieving flow on the bike—they’re whole-life practices. They’re not pursued for selfish reasons or to impress others. In fact, when you grasp for flow with an egoic mindset, it slips away.

To truly enter choice flow, your riding must be aligned with a deeper intention—an intention to grow, to serve, and to connect with something beyond yourself. Without this alignment, what I call Pure Flow, will remain elusive. But when your riding and life are in sync, Pure Flow becomes a profound tool for personal evolution.

And who couldn’t use a little meaningful development in their lives, especially when it requires riding your mountain bike?

If you’ve read this far and resonate with these topics - I invite you to explore deeper by joining the Fall 2024 cohort of students in my Pure Flow seven-week immersion. Learn more about the offering here. -Ryan