Luck was never on our side. It never was, really. We had put in so much effort the last two years, yet with every single encounter we found ourselves confined to the dull, lifeless, silver. That was all I could think while I carried my 21lb burden up that one endless slope. I could see the wheels move on contact to the earth, and I could see my legs moving at the same routine uphill, but I swear to god that I didn’t feel them. Adventure racing is exhilaration, adventure racing is my passion, adventure racing is the perfect permutation of off-road cycling, trekking, plus the use of a map to guide your group of three to the finish line, and adventure racing was exactly what I was doing.
A Curve. Was it THE curve? Please just let me see that two stories building labeled “Viveres” in the other side. I remember the first time I saw it: it was the start of downhill. It’s great to go downhill. There is no comparison to the feeling you get once wind strike your face at 20 mph. But, this was not the case. It was the complete opposite, where you’d pray for some wind to wipe the boiling sweat off your face. Finally, Viveres!
I heard my teammates cry from relief, but I had to halt their excitement to make a choice of which of the three routes to take. One simple mistake here can be the end of it all. I looked down into my map and all of the sudden I felt the connection of both worlds: the paper dimension mixed with the actual dimension, where I was standing. Left. Turn left now. Gears cracked. The chain was tense and ready to accelerate. My numb limbs pushed down on the pedal as strong as they would let me, and my bike started to move. It was a long straight path that let me relax my mind and I started thinking about our current position. I had my team train at least twice a week during summer, their determination to achieve victory was as strong as mine, and that motivated them to do what they were told. We learned a lot from previous races: to trust our instincts, to never let our morale down, and to help each other in whatever way possible.
A sudden realization diverted my thoughts. Where are my teammates? I got so drunk with the thought of success that I totally forgot about them. I looked back only to find nothing. Panic. I found one of them, the strongest of the group, sitting on the sidewalk grabbing his thigh: it was a cramp. Not now, not so close to the end. I immediately gave him the cream that helped me last race and it was enough to keep him going. We entered the stadium and at the very end saw our destiny: the finish line. Passing by, I witnessed the faces of the spectators, and their excitement revealed my position.
Then it was announced. We had won, we finally reserved the highest spot in the podium. The loudest scream of joy molded inside my lungs and evacuated through my mouth. “YES!” I hugged both of my teammates with the small residual of my strength. It was only after this achievement that I truly understood what being a team leader meant. Being a team leader meant keeping the correct track to avoid getting lost and taking good care of your teammates to avoid time consuming injuries and most importantly, enjoying every second of it. Mission accomplished. Luck was in our side after all.