I always have this funny thought the day before big races. “This time tomorrow, we’ll know the outcome.” It sounds a little ominous, but it actually comes from a place of optimism. It’s almost like my brain trying to remind my body that the nerves and anticipation are temporarily.
It all hits a boiling point standing on the start line with the realization that we are no longer dreaming, preparing, or anticipating; we are doing.
As we pushed off the line yesterday, I was locked in. I had every plan in the world to put together a day that really showcased what I am truly capable of, and the beauty of racing is something exactly what you want to happen, happens in the way you never thought it would.
Off the line I got shuffled back in the group, as the pace ratcheted up, I got blocked in between two riders who didn’t respond to the acceleration. After a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, I broke free, put the power down to close the gap, and my right leg completely locked up. It cramped. I’ve never had that happen before. I lost power. My leg was seized up; the group was powering away and there was virtually nothing I could do.
In a moment that created extreme panic, my brain scanned for the answer and asked me an important question, “What can you do right now?” The answer: remain calm, and prepare to launch.
When I hit the singletrack I was in 26th place but my leg had released and I was on a mission.
I remembered the conversation I had with Dr. Sara at Enso Mental Performance a couple days before. “No matter what happens at the start, you leave it behind, reset, and go again.”
This was a whole lot different than I thought it would be, but that plan was more important than ever.
I took a massive, forced exhale as if to rid my body of what just happened and I said “You’re race starts now. You’re starting over. Go!”
One of the things that makes Little Sugar one of my favorite stops on the Grand Prix is the endless singletrack trails, it also makes positioning very important, because passing is extremely difficult on these tight trails.
I was determined to never settle in or stay with any rider or group. I knew I had to charge ahead. I looked way down the trail anticipating every single possible opportunity to pass. I took aggressive and difficult lines. I had to risk my tires on some harsher rocky terrain, but one by one, I moved up.
By mile 24, when I hit the first aid station, my crew told me I was in 4th. I had executed 22 passes. I was back.
With the podium in view, I had to exhale again. I remembered what Enso Mental Performance has taught me, when things are going well, remember what got you to that point and keep doing it. So, I put my head down, waited for no one, and went to work.
By mile 47, I had moved into 3rd place and was only 30 seconds behind 2nd. I felt unstoppable.
In the closing miles my body was suffering from my big comeback story, and I was audibly moaning with each big maneuver of the bike, but I had come way too far to slide backwards at this point. I relished the opportunity to see just how deep I could go, to see how I could find ways both mentally and physically to maintain speed as my body begged me to slow down.
Crossing the finish line yesterday felt like such a victory, not just because of the podium position, 3rd overall (2nd Lifetime Grand Prix), but because of the way I believed in myself relentlessly.
