room . I am too tired to think , let alone rationalise . In a world of utter meaningless and stupidity , I found meaning in this silly sport of off-road riding , but it ’ s been denied to me today . I am not good enough ; I don ’ t belong here . I desperately wanted to do it , but I could not . I cannot do it .
I had told the world before departing that I would simply be happy to cross the finish line when I started this endeavour , but I ’ m surprised to learn this is not the case anymore . Something has grown inside of me and become bigger by the day out here . Something new , unexpected , and foreign has come alive inside of me . I ’ ve become engrossed by the race , and it has eclipsed my sensibilities . I vowed not to get caught up in the bullshit , but unconsciously , quietly , bizarrely ; I ’ ve found myself neck deep in it . It ’ s impossible to avoid the frenzy that the morning starting line triggers every day , no matter how many times I do it .
I never expected to win , but over the punishing days , I wanted to do better than I had ever done before . I wanted to see some improvement in this activity that I adore . I wanted some return from the training I ’ ve done and the investment I ’ ve made in this . I ’ ve become desperate to improve , and it pains me dearly to admit that that I am not doing that , as The Hill made clear . I am simply getting through , just like I did last time . I want to do it well , but I can only just do it . This realisation kills me , and I sit alone with the realisation , a hollow , defeated man .
Eventually , I make the end of the race , and despite
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