Bikes

When it comes to talking about bikes, I struggle. No matter how I spin the matter, bikes came to me at a critical point in my development and shaped me for better.

While I don't have hoards of childhood memories, I distinctly remember learning to ride a bike in a Costa Rica parking lot. My bike's name was Scrappy and as I tentatively began riding circles without training wheels for the first time, I remember nothing but sheer joy and a stranger hanging out the window of his home yelling to me, andale! andale! go! go!

From there bikes took me up and down curbs in my neighborhood, on summer adventures with my sister to Chicago's lakefront for swims, to my first triathlon, to school because the bus was too slow, on Critical Mass rides, to rebellion, Yojimbo's Garage and alley cat messenger races, to really discover and know my hometown...

Life sort of changed for me when I started to race bikes in ernest. I found focus and passion and dedication and the meaning of hard work. Bike racing became my escape. My freedom from the city, my fears, my worries and my awkward high school years; my way out of the world I knew and my first vehicle to travel, adventure and new experiences. It wasn't till I found bikes that I found friends and people I truly understood. I embraced cycling, set goals and went after them.

Then something crazy happened - something I wasn't prepared for and something that in hindsight totally freaked me out: I moved past my goals and into a realm of cycling that I much preferred glorified in the form of posters on my wall. At 18 years old and away from home for the first time, entering this world was alluring and I was intrigued by the ambition of my peers, boys and the vagabondish lifestyle the sport offered. I dove in without knowing exactly what I wanted and quickly, became utterly lost.

It's taken a long time to dig myself out of the unexpected hole I found myself in post bike racing. I crashed, burned, returned and even once I retired from racing in 2010 it wasn't until 2013 that I for the first time was able to stray fully from bikes as I entered school and a new direction. I realize sport will always be an important part of my life, balance and sanity; hence my adoration of running, but today was an interesting day as I was both happy and sad as I stepped back into bike world for a brief moment.

CSU CX National Team - such a fun time with these girls!

I raced the US Cyclocross Collegiate National Championships today in Boulder, CO for Colorado State University. I arrived to the race ecstatic. I hadn't ridden a cross bike on a proper course in more than a year and was giddy to race for the school that I love. Additionally, I've become really good friends with the CSU team's president, Kate, and was pretty much just psyched to be racing with her and the team.

After sorting out a bike to ride for the race from my friends at SRAM, I headed to the start line with my late friend Amy Dombroski on my mind. I had a pair of lightening bolts socks on my feet in support of her foundation and hoped to ride a few laps of the course in her honor - remembering riding some of the very same trails together before she passed this October. It was amazing racing again. So incredibly fun and exhilarating and nice to think about Amy while doing the sport she lived and breathed. The race was a definite high and I felt nothing but joy and happiness for Amy, for my CSU teammates, for all the old friends I'd bumped into throughout the day...

Dombro was one of a kind. So missed by so many.

After the race I volunteered on course, walking the perimeter of the race fixing course tape and broken posts. Walking around gave me time to think and I ended the day feeling sad, lonely and lost. Lost friends, lost passion, lost way. While I know everything in life happens for a reason its always interesting confronting the reasons and remembering the past. I am truly happy and wouldn't change a single thing in the path I've traveled but I guess it comes down to the fact that you need to remember the lows to appreciate the highs.

Today, I remembered it all.