The Mother Freakin' Princess: DNF...Been There Done That!

Last weekend we mountain bike raced at a very challenging course, Afton Alps. The course had crazy up hills and tons of technical, steep, rocky down hills. I was really nervous for it. Although I practiced the course twice before the race, I actually never practiced a full lap. I mentally prepared myself though and imagined riding all the obstacles and making it down all the narly hills.

Race day came and I thought it would be best to leave my tutu at home - this is a serious course and it would require all of my concentration. I was very nervous, but I knew I would try hard and do my best. My best included walking my bike up several hills and down just a couple of them. I wasn't alone. Lots of people in my class were walking up and down those same hills. There was a tough battle going on between me and about three other riders for 'not-last-place'.

Towards the end of my first lap the leaders of the race had caught up to me. I was being lapped. The first rider was completely nice about it and waited for me to get down a long, steep hill before he announced his pass, then passed me. The second rider passed me shortly after the first. He announced his pass and took me on the left. Just as he passed me, my bike slipped out from under me and I fell to the ground. I let out a small screech and he looked back at me, told me he was sorry, and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine and it wasn't his fault, it was mine. I got back on my bike and was just starting to take off when the third rider came up behind me and said, "Get off the trail, please!"

This is when I lost it. I screamed back, "I just wiped out!!!" He passed me and I continued on my journey. I made it down the long fast hill at the end and then took a berm a little too high and a little too slow. I did a slow motion wipe out in front of *everyone*. I picked my bike up, determined and strong? No, I gave up. I walked off the trail, with a broken heart and hurt pride. I felt I didn't belong. I wasn't good enough. I was too fat and out of shape. I was a silly girl to think I could race...

Although I tried to be kind and gentle with myself for walking off the course that day, I carried these feelings of 'not good enough' with me all last week. I debated on whether or not I would race again on Sunday. A day before the race I finally committed.

The race started and again I battled for 'not-last-place'. Again I walked my bike up and down the same hills as everyone else. Again I got lapped by the leaders of the race. But this time it was different. This time I would not give up. I would hold my head high and smile at those who passed me, wishing them a good ride. This time I would finish the race and it would take everything inside of me to do so. This time me and my tutu would get our much deserved medal...