Sabie- a small Lowveld town in Mpumalanga, South Africa, became host to the ‘kick off’ round of the 2013 UCI Marathon World Series. This past weekend, more than 3000 riders descended upon this town to experience South Africas “Mecca” of mountain biking. Whether they were lured by the winning purse, the UCI points, or the majesty of the surrounding mountains, each one who participated had a unique story to tell. This is mine..

07:00 Saturday morning, gun goes off. Such a familiar sound, a que almost. I know what lies ahead, and what I want to achieve. Somewhere between is a mountain of pain which requires 100 percent physical and mental strength to conquer. The cheers of the crowds are absorbed by the dust from our tyres as we pedal into the hills. Dimmer and dimmer, until I can hear only the sound of tyres on the gravel and the harsh breathing of my competitors.

Then it begins, the road rises gradually before me. I see it as a test. A test of my ability to come to terms, and in a sense “feed off” this monster called pain. Gradual turns to steep, and smooth to rocky. The terrain is rough, ensuring that every muscle is subject to distress. The pain is exponential, just like the profile of the race, and the speed at which I am being forced to ascend. Forced through no choice of my own, but by a power within me, refusing to let me return to my zone of comfort.

The altitude is so high. It feels like I have reached heaven itself. At that moment in time, Heaven seems like the flowing downhill trail I can spot ahead. The monster of pain momentarily loosens his ever -present grip. It’s a time to breathe, a time to replenish, a time to relish in the relief. But still, I can’t afford to let her get a significant gap on me. Mentally, it would crush me.

Crunch time arrived- right on time, when my legs had begun to sieze up. The monster is winning this game, but the driving power within me speaks over my signs of weakness. I am strong, I believe it with every aching part of me. A violently steep burst in the dying moments of the race was the seperation moment. The duo of competitors in pale pink shirts, turned to two single pale pink dots. My legs are screaming as I see her disappear around each corner of this winding piece of track.

 Then there it was, instantly in my sight, the finish line that I had patiently and painfully awaited. She got the better of me. Yet I feel like I partially won the game with pain. I came face to face with it, and embraced it with a bravery unknown to me before. Pain, Im not finished with you. Next time we begin the game on more familiar terms.

Contrary to what you are thinking right now, I absolutely loved every moment of that race. It’s a strange reality to get to grips with. I guess its what keeps us hungry- the fact that maybe next time we can hammer the nail of pain further into the wood.

Thank you to BMC for providing the platform for me to challenge pain in exciting locations on a constant basis.