Tick, tick, tick, was all I heard. It was as if my bike's gears were counting down the seconds. It was a brisk fall morning, the kind that sends chills through your bones if you're out too long without a coat. The grass was wet with dew and I noticed a few small spiders dancing across the blades of grass. The sun inched its way above the horizon, just as I inched one foot in front of the other towards the team tents. Today was the last race of the mountain bike season. My stomach felt like two animals rolling around in a fight as my nervousness and excitement swirled around. I didn’t know if I had the skill to conquer this trail. I pushed these doubts aside and focused on finding my team tent. I walked to the far end of the field until I saw the familiar faces of my team gathering around our tent. 

My teammate, who I'd be racing against, was nervous as well. We decided to leave the cozy blankets and camping chairs to warm up for the race. We rode to a nearby hill and pedaled at 45% of our speed and then 60% to warm up our leg muscles, and repeated this cycle a few times. Then we did some stretches to loosen up our legs and arms. We voiced our fears of crashing to each other, as if saying it outloud would prevent it from happening. Over the megaphone, they announced the 8th grade girl’s race would start in 10 minutes. We grabbed our bikes and walked hastily toward the start line. I felt my anxiety surge like a tsunami, demolishing every positive thought. Even though I’d practiced my starts the day before, I wasn’t confident that I would be fast and not crash. The start was a slippery grass slope that snaked down the hill at a slant. Then there were over 4 miles of trail with extended uphills and technical obstacles like rock gardens. A rock garden is a part of the trail that requires the rider to simultaneously balance, precisely steer, and maintain momentum through rocks. Rock gardens can be difficult because your pedal can strike a jutting out rock or you can take the wrong line and crash.

I was almost to the start line. When my number was called out, I took my position next to the other competitors. I could feel doubt whispering in my ear, saying things like, you can't do this, and you’re going to get hurt. I tried to ignore these discouraging thoughts by talking to the other racers, but I could still feel those thoughts lurking in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce. My knuckles were white as I grasped my handle bars tightly. I was tense with uncertainty. As the seconds got closer and closer to the whistle blowing, I felt my unease intensify. I got into the start position I had practiced. My mind flooded with negative thoughts, like a river overflowing after a storm. Suddenly, a loud sound pierced my eardrums, the whistle had been blown, we were off! 

I could hear my tires sliding on the wet grass and feel my bike slipping sideways. It was crowded between riders as we battled elbow to elbow. As I rounded a corner, my bike slid, but I didn't fall. It was as if my adrenaline had held me up. I noticed my teammate and other riders were far ahead of me. I battled for position as we entered the narrow single track. We twisted through the woods and arrived at the first set of switchbacks. They were dusty and steep and ended in a rock garden. I inhaled churned dust as I darted through berms and then my eyes focused on three large rocks. Unlike some of my competitors, I made it over the rocks smoothly, letting my tire fill the gaps between the rocks and timing my pedals to avoid striking the rocks.

With the first obstacle behind me, I knew I had to make up time. As I rode around some jagged rocks in the trail, I noticed someone recovering from a crash. It was my teammate. I slowed going past her to make sure she was okay, and then an idea sparked a flame of determination. I would fight to place higher on the podium for her since she crashed and would not be able to catch up. I paced myself to be ready when I had the chance to get in front. At the second set of switchbacks, one rider nearly ran into another rider when her tires slid in the crumbly dirt, causing me to almost wreck as well. Once again anxiety glared down at me as I worried about crashing. What if someone crashes into me? What if I get a concussion? What if. What if. What if. I wanted to succeed, but what if something happened to me? 

Soon we reached the bottom of the hill and mud grabbed at my tires. Creek water splashed my arms at a creek crossing. Then the trail inclined. More negative thoughts invaded my mind. What if they are faster uphill? What if I fall backwards on the steep hill? These thoughts clouded my confidence with doubt, but as we made our way up and up, I kept pace with the other girls and began to think I had a chance of standing on the podium. My bike ran over thick roots crossing the trail. I kept pedaling, just behind the other two riders.The path widened, and instantaneously, the other girls switched spots. I sped up, taking the opportunity to pass and snatch the 2nd place position. The girl who was now in 3rd place fell farther behind as fatigue took over. With only two hills left before the finish line, a thought popped into my head, what if I can get in front of her? What if I can win? 

We climbed a gravel hill and emerged onto a grassy path. Angling through a turn, I changed gears and sped up. I pedaled as hard as I could. I could feel the wind on my face as I looked towards the finish line. I was almost there. The trail widened and I saw my opportunity to pass. I can do this, I thought, and made my burning leg muscles pedal even faster. I had never been able to pass her before, but this time was different. I swiftly moved around her to the front, pedaling to success. 

I could feel my opponent behind me, trying to catch me. As I pressed towards the finish line, a sneaky doubt tried to take hold, what if I crashed right before the finish line? I quickly pushed it aside and kept my feet spinning. It felt like hours, but seconds later I crossed the finish line. I couldn’t believe it. I was faster than all 12 competitors. I squeezed my brakes and came to a stop. I was greeted by my friends and family. Everyone congratulated me. After I did a cool down ride, I checked on my teammate who’d crashed. She had injured her knee but was okay. I told her I won the race for her and we embraced. I felt so proud of myself and what I had done.

I cheered on my teammates that afternoon and I kept thinking, I did it, I finally got first place. All those negative thoughts were just noise. After the other races were over, it was time for the awards. My excitement grew as they called different age groups up. I would get to stand on the very top step! One by one we were called by the announcer. When it was my turn, I walked over to the podium and confidently stepped on top of the wooden stair. I felt extraordinary. I looked at the first place medal around my neck. I realized just how capable I am. Whether I’m facing a challenge or overcoming negative thoughts, I can push forward and be successful. The lesson I learned is that there’s a fine line between your thoughts keeping you safe and your thoughts preventing you from being successful. I know I can overcome the risks and potential failures on the way to reaching my goals.