I liked throwing rocks. Aimlessly. Into water mostly. Into the sea, into lakes, across rivers, into rapids, down cliffs, at trees. I could sit for hours just aimlessly throwing rock after rock. Marvelling at the graceful arc of a well-executed throw. Studying the shape and characteristics of each rock. How small, flat pebbles seemed to float in the wind for longer than big, heavy sinkers. How big river stones made loud clunking noises as they hit the bottom of a rapid. How pebbles thrown fast and flat from low down skip along the surface of the water but if they’re thrown from a height, they sink. How there was a “just right” size of rock that stayed true to aim, not too big and not too small it was.
I used to enjoy sitting peacefully concentrating simply on this meaningless activity.
I took no joy in the graceful movement of my body, the arching of my arm, using my whole body to launch the rock into space at tremendous velocity with amazing accuracy. It wasn’t good enough unless it was “better” than the next guy’s throw.
I started measuring and recording how far and how quick I threw rocks everyday. Then I posted the record on facebook next to a picture of me flexing my 16inch biceps with a smug 4 inch grin on my face. I got my record certified by the International Steel Arm (ISA) association then got T-Shirts printed that said “HarryD - ISA 2200 ceritifed”. I got 20 of those t-shirts printed and wore one every day.
I didn’t like throwing rocks much after that.
So yeah, that’s all I have to say about the measurement of riding achievement