Shoelaces to Wheels

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Running was my sport. Cross country, track, roads, trails, it didn’t matter I loved it all. My personal favorite race was the 1500m, three and three quarter laps of pure pain and adrenalin. It was body against the clock. I loved to push myself and see the seconds disappear from my times.

You have to be mentally tough to be a runner. You define yourself in those moments where the body is just screaming and begging for a rest but you find the inner strength to push on. You have to be out there in the rain, snow, or blistering heat at the times that your competition has decided to take the day off. My favorite time to run was early in the morning when the air was crisp and most people were still sleeping in their comfortable beds.

I finished up a successful collegiate running career and then moved to a new city. Before I had time to hook up with any running groups I began cycling with my husband. It was only supposed to be temporary until I found some running buddies. I never thought I would love another sport as much as I loved running.

It wasn’t even the first ride that convinced me. It took time. When I first got my clipless pedals I tipped over more than once. I found cycling to be intimidating. I discovered that skills mattered as much as physical ability and that the strongest competitor didn’t always win.

One night my mind was swirling as I contemplated the many facets of cycling that I was just discovering. Not long after, I realized that when I was supposed to be crunching numbers at work, my mind had already fast forwarded to the upcoming weekend’s race. Financial statements started looking like race results, wire transfer amounts became time gaps, and matching employee uniforms suddenly resembled team kits. I added up all the things I wanted to achieve, subtracted the many skills I still lacked, multiplied in all my passion and energy, and decided that I was hooked on cycling.

The Tour of the Gila was the race that turned my cycling world upside down and for the first time blurred my cycling dreams with reality. It was my first big race and a last minute decision that came together on a whim when my parents agreed to pack up the old red minivan and take me to New Mexico for a week. I had only received the upgrade to be able to race at this event two weeks prior. I went into the race with no expectations and was ecstatic when I found myself on the podium of stage one’s summit finish in Mogollon.

The next day, while thousands of fans were lining up outside Lance Armstrong’s motor home, I met someone else who inspired me. Michael Engleman, of the US Women’s Cycling Development Program saw me on the start line without a team and stuffing bottles in my back pockets. He was the first one who told me that I could take my cycling abilities to the next level, and he helped me begin the long journey that I am still pursuing to get there.

Cycling is a team sport out on the road, but every cyclist also rides with a more personal team of supporters. I am grateful for all the many individuals who have shared their time, talents, knowledge, and passion to help me reach my goals.

I’ve had a lot of experiences this year, some great, some not so great. Like an epic road race there are steep hills and sharp corners, mechanical incidents and tactical blunders, hours of sweat and moments of despair, yet there are also those brief, thrilling moments that make every other part of the journey worthwhile.

I’ve learned so much and yet there is so much that I still need to know. I’ve met so many great people who share the same passion. The future is unknown but it’s going to be fun. This year has only left me wanting more. I never thought I would love anything more than running. Running was my sport, until I found cycling.