I was recently inspired by Heidi Rides Bikes to take a look back at my 2014 racing season. I competed in 12 races:
1 Road Race
Carter Lake Road Race – photo credit to Shawn Curry
2 Hill Climbs
2 Circuit Races
3 mountain bike races
2 cyclocross races
All but one race was finished – see more about that here. I was involved in two crashes. The first crash was in my first crit of the year. After the injuries healed, I did another crit and was involved in yet another crash. Smashing into the pavement was beginning to take a toll on my body, and I wasn’t interested in totaling my new Cannondale ride. By this time it was nearly June, so I turned my attention to other kinds of races. I did the Guanella Pass Hill Climb again, which is one of the few races that make a cyclist feel bigger than life. I did my first endurance mountain bike race on Independence Day. I finished off the racing season with two super fun cyclocross races.
Strava stats indicate that I put nearly 3,500 miles on my Cannondale since I got her in January. While I rode outdoors in every month of the year, I raced in 8 of 12 months of the year. On the non-racing side of the fence, I participated in my first Triple Bypass. I also started using my bike as a mode of transportation rather than solely as a recreational or training vehicle, all be it sporadically.
While the racing season didn’t turn out as I had hoped in the criterium category, I was pleased with my results and the number of races overall. But most importantly, I’ve come to respect what my body is capable of and learned to listen when it tells me it’s time to try something different. I’m the first to say that it’s important to have a plan; but it’s equally important to allow those plans to change when the time is right.
For 2015, I’m looking forward to more crits and more commuting; to continuing to improve my cycling fitness; and to sharing cycling joy wherever and however I can!
This post has been percolating in my mind for several weeks. It’s about the affect our words can have on other human beings.
At a recent cyclocross race I was very near another racer whose family speaks a foreign language. On each lap when we passed her family members, I would hear them shouting to her in what could have been Russian or German. Since I don’t speak the language, I was unable to understand what exactly was being said to my competitor. Regardless of which language it was, I didn’t get the sense that what was being shouted at her was entirely encouraging nor supportive. At the finish line, I saw an exchange between this competitor and her family that clearly was not supportive. As her family walked away in what appeared to be disgust, the cyclist sat down in a heap on a curb in the shade by herself to catch her breath. At about that same time, my family approached me and offered hugs, high-fives, and congratulatory words, despite the fact that I finished nowhere near the podium. When I finally quit coughing, I looked around for that competitor because I wanted to congratulate her on a tough race, but she was already gone. I was disappointed that I missed her and I thought of her and what I had seen at the finish line often over the next few days.
At the next race, I arrived at the start line a little early. As I stood there, my competitor from the previous race appeared. Since her family was not around, I immediately approached her and struck up a conversation about the previous race. I told her that I was sorry that I had missed the opportunity to tell her after the previous race what a strong racer she is. As I finished this sentence, I notably saw her stand a bit taller as her chest expanded with pride. She began to radiate confidence as we talked. Not long into our conversation I realized that she was just a child. A younger child than my own, in fact. I wished her good luck on the race as the call ups began.
I once heard a phrase or saying that went something along the lines of: you are responsible for how another person’s words make you feel. I never agreed with the saying because it implies that one person’s words should have zero affect on another person. But clearly from this example, they do. Especially when they come from the people you know and love. I’m grateful that the opportunity presented itself for me to offer kind words to that young competitor.
I challenge you to find one person each day who you can offer kind words of encouragement to, whether it’s a friend or a stranger, a team mate or competitor, a child or an adult, even your partner. Then sit back and watch that little seed of confidence grow into something bigger. Sometimes you’ll get to see it blossom before the conversation is over.