Last year, Visited Wisconsin to see my mountain biking uncle. He was about to compete in the Subaru cup (Part of the Wisconsin off road series), and he said there was a kids division (I was 16). I volunteered to do it, because how hard can biking 10 miles be?
He registered me, but for the adult division.
The next day he brought me to the race grounds to do a practice lap, which was 5 miles long. He said there were no worries, I could go at any pace that I wanted, it should be a piece of cake. It was virtually fucking identical to that. Except in a forest. And I'm not talented, just fat. Three hours later, I finish the course and go home, ass aching to no end.
I didn't have the nerve to tell my uncle that I wanted to quit, because he payed 50 bucks to register me for the race. I just fucking did it. Professional-ass bikers speeding past me on a mountain. A fucking mountain. So much falling into bushes and rocks and off of cliffs. I fell off of cliffs. Fucking Cliffs.
I finished dead last. Except for one guy. He was disqualified because his bike broke. His bike broke when I fell ontop of him. Off of a cliff.