I didn’t race this past weekend. Not because I’m over it and not because I’ve lost the fire, but because I just needed a break. My race typically lasts just 40-48 minutes, which might not sound long, but if you’ve ever started and finished a cyclocross race, you know it can feel like a firey …
Continue reading "Off Weekend: Running, Hiking, Ordering Takeout"
The last time my dad was in Colorado, he was riding his bike across the United States with my mom. That was 35 years ago, so, it’s been awhile. My mom and dad planned to visit together, spend a long weekend in Boulder and watch me race bikes in Fort Collins. I asked them to …
Continue reading "Cross of the North + A Weekend With My Dad"
One hundred seventy eight. That’s how many jobs I’ve applied to in the past year living in Boulder. Most were local, but every once in awhile, when I was swimming in a sea of rejection feeling frustrated and defeated, I would send my resume to cool shops in Seattle, Portland, or NorCal—cities with good riding, …
Continue reading "Catching up on Monday: Job Rejections, a Podcast, a Sweatshirt, a Bike Ride"
DNS means "did not start." But really, it was more like: did not get out of car. I was pumped about this morning's race, but here's what happened... The directions to Siena Lake landed me in the middle of Broomfield with no course in sight. When Google maps said I had arrived at my destination, …
Staring up at the sky, the taste of blood in my mouth, my heart hammering like a brick in my chest, I closed my eyes and let the world spin like vertigo. I’d just finished my third cyclocross race, winning my category for the second time. I draped my arm over my face, the crook …
The podcast host was telling the audience about Super Flag, a painfully steep climb here in Boulder. The last kilometer gets so steep and the quads and the lungs burn so much that it feels almost impossible to reach the top without getting off the bike and walking. I know how that climb feels, and I’ve …
On the eve of my third race, I still haven’t written about my second. Here it is. I realized the second cyclocross race was when I started to have expectations. I was afraid of that. My first race was an afternoon of blissful ignorance; my only goal was to stay upright and finish in one …
Sometimes my mind wanders...here's where it went this afternoon: (1) One of my friends ran a marathon this weekend. An Internet friend. We’ve never met, but I know she’s the shit. She posted about it all over social media, and I loved following it. I was really excited for her because she was really excited …
Continue reading "Let It Be Enough. And Other Things I Thought At My Desk"
It's rare to jump into a new sport at 29 years old, isn't it? We pick up things a little easier when we're younger: sports, languages, friendships. But. On Saturday morning, when I was hauling ass up a muddy set of stairs with my bike slung over my right shoulder in my very first cyclocross …
The sun was setting, the temps were dropping quickly, and I’d just finished another beautiful run on my favorite Boulder Open Space trail. I hobbled back to my car, picked up my phone and called my cousin. I was still breathing hard, still sweating, and the bottoms of my feet were still humming. I wiped …
Continue reading "A Story of Starting Over: One Year In Boulder"
