Heroes Along the Way

WOW, What a day! I was at the line up waiting for my turn of my first race. (The Croom Enduro) By the time I reached the start, I was already some what tired due to all of the butterflies running their own enduro in my belly. My arms were tense, and being a girl, I couldn't run to the woods to relieve my bladder from the gallons of water that I downed the night before. Without realizing it, I was already working against myself by not relaxing.     I was sitting on my bike with my son (John) standing next to me for support. Barry Rose, Cary Hunt, DR Rick, and a few fellow riders next to me whom all gave me some great advice and encouragement. THANKS GUYS!!! I felt like I was the luckiest person at the start, as I waited that intensely long 13 minutes to go, (Row 13).    In addition to my support group at the start, I had many new and old friends waiting along the way. Kim #2 and Kim #3 cheered me on as I crossed my first road. Susan's smile along the trail was refreshing after the palmetto roots took me out, (where I lost alot of time trying to start my XR250). You know how those XRs are. Robin, Todd, Dave, Tom, Ilkka, and many more aided me along my tiring journey, with words of encouragement that motivated me to keep going.    My next big disaster was when I was engulfed by the twenty foot deep (well, maybe two feet), muddy cypress swamp that tried to swallow me and my bike in one gulp. When I first got to the mud pit, I picked my line, and went for it. About half way through, my back tire got hung up on a cypress stump, and over the handle bars I went. SPLAT!!! ( I'll never wear new gear to a race again ). The more I pushed and pulled to get my bike up, the more I sunk into thoughts of quitting. I was knee deep in disappointment. My thigh was throbbing from my clumsy dismount that resulted in several large bruises.OUCH!!! Also, I was exhausted. The black and gray muck would not let me lift my bike. I wanted to cry, but I didn't even though I felt like such a failure. I wasn't strong enough to pick up my own bike. I knew I could have if it were any where else, but the mud's suction wouldn't let me. Then I looked up, and on the side of the road stood two men. My first set of heroes for the day. !    They helped get my bike out of the mud, and gave me some ice cold water. They stayed with me until I got going again. (About 15 minutes later). I don't know their names, but I'll never forget their faces. THANK GUYS!!!    I continued my very long journey through the pits and the whoops. I told myself to just keep going. I learned alot along the way. I learned to go around the mud next time. I also learned that I don't have to stay in the whoops, however, I did see many riders cutting the trail BIG TIME. You know who you are! I'm not talking about cut trail along the warn out rails, I'm talking about the ones that made big cuts straight across the field. I also learned not to move over and stop for everyone else to get by. Just move over, it's to hard to pick up your pace again.    A couple of miles before the fourth check, I began to get very dizzy and nauseous. I had more thoughts of quitting. I thought, "What am I doing out here", but I kept going. I started to see spots, and I don't remember very much after that. Maybe it was the heat or maybe it had something to do with the crack on the side of my helmet that we found after the race. I don't know. I do remember coming up to the fourth check, FINALLY. This is where I met up with my next set of heroes, who took very good care of me when in great need. My husband Mark Kohne, son John Critser, and two good friends Barry Rose and Rob Mackin were working this check, my last check. I had houred out by then, and from what they've told me, I was very confused. I can't remember very much. At this point, I gave up and started to cry. Maybe from shame of not finishing, or maybe just plain exhaustion.    My race ended with a trip to the hospital where I was treated with heat exhaustion, dehydration, and my blood sugar levels were dangerously low. I didn't tell them about hitting  my head because I just wanted to go back to Croom. After a couple of hours, I convinced my third set of heroes, at the hospital, to let me go.    Upon arriving back at Croom, I was told that I had third place and I was mentioned at the end of the race for my efforts. What a surprise. I even earned a mug. AWESOME!!!    Now it is two days after the race. I'm still a little weak and very tired. My muscles are a little sore and I have more and more bruises appearing, but some how each bruise is like another trophy.    Even though we all have different scores, riding gear, motorcycles, riding styles,etc., we all share the same desire to go out there and push ourselves, and out of that, we gain a real sense of accomplishment. That's what makes us all a winner. I saw a sticker that said it all. It said," It's better to be a racer for one day, than a spectator for a life time".    Thanks again to everyone that made this race possible, they work very hard. Thanks also to all of those back at camp that offered encouragement before the race, and helped get things together after the race, Tom ,Joel and Kim, Scott and Laura, Cary and Ericka, Todd and Susan, Robin and Kim, Barry and Amanda, Mike, Craig, Rob, Dave, Mark, Sam and Lori, and many more. Sorry there's just too many names to account for. THANKS AGAIN EVERYONE!!!!!!!! Sincerely, Kim Kohne.