Reaching my goal on a mountain bike

Today was the hardest race I’d done in my life. I’d never struggled so much with a race before. Even though I didn’t even get onto the podium, having finished giving my 200% or more made me feel good, proud and gratified. I’d reached a goal I’d set a month ago: I started training and I went to that race, a year and a half after my knee operation.


I tried so hard that there was a minute when all I wanted was a downhill, since 85% of the race was uphill. In minutes my body felt weak, I had cramps so severe that I’d never had before in a race, I had falls I hardly even felt, due to the adrenaline that got me back up in seconds, with no time to feel sorry for myself. What I enjoyed the most were the two long, totally extreme downhills.


When it seemed as though I would pass out, when I no longer had any more strength, in my mind I began to tell myself things like “I know I can, I am soul and mind … my body is a complement, but my mind is in charge.” By this point I had run out of water and moisturizing gels and I no longer had it in me to rally myself, which normally encourages me. So I started thinking about all those who have supported me and who share my passion: in my uncles and aunts, in Ivan, my BMX coach, who took me to the US world championships in 2001 when I was 15, in Paul, my friend from Puerto Natales who introduced me to the world of mountain biking, in my cousin, a wonderful person who, like me, was competing in the same race, in the friends I left behind in Valdivia, in Arthurito, who showed me all the trails where I train today and infected me with his enthusiasm and taught me his strength.


Sport itself is beautiful, but the people you meet through it, makes it even more wonderful.



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