Sea Otter Redemption

Things have come almost come full circle with regard to cycle racing for me. By that I mean that my days of “training” are a fading ghost town in my rear view mirror and particular results have become even less motivating than they once were. While I will admit that racing became a manifestation of my desire for excellence in life, the reality is that cycling has always been just a passion for me and I have always been a “starving artist”.

In the beginning, I rode to be free and to reach my destination.  Most of the time I got there faster than my riding partners. After a few years I began racing and with early success I found that I needed to continually raise the bar and compete against stiffer competition to measure up. Before long, I had upgraded myself until training became a necessity.

Once I graduated from college it seemed like life took a dramatic turn and suddenly just because I did well at my job and excelled didn’t mean I was rewarded for my performance. The dot com bubble burst and industry tanked. We were working more for less. Then 911 shocked us further with furloughs, pay-cuts and layoffs. All the while I was quietly chasing perfection in cycling.

Cycling was a buoy in a turbulent engineering career and later as a stay-at-home parent. Of course that excuse is gone now as the kids grow up and with my health concerns that began several years ago I have gradually weaned myself away from the constant pursuit of continual improvement on the bike.

This season I still have competitive goals but they are more about a return to my best form rather than setting new milestones. My schedule is a mix of new trails and old victories and seems to be motivating me to be at my best again. This brought me back to the Sea Otter Classic.

I have raced at Laguna Seca too many times to remember over the years and harbor many awesome memories. I suppose the technical aspect of the expo and watching events like the Dual Slalom were the biggest reason to drive south. Obviously the rainy years were not!

In 2010, I was like a ship without a rudder struggling to understand why my body wasn’t responding like it always had to the stress of pushing to the limit. I had just began a relationship with Ibis Cycles and was anxious to prove I was going faster than ever. I raced the 40 mile cross-country course single speed on the new bike they had provided.

It was an epic battle between two fellows who collided at the same spot in space and time. I had chased most of the race and as I caught my adversary less than a mile from the finish the spirit that had driven me for most of my life propelled me to the front and on to an emotional victory!

For what now seems like just moments I felt like I was back on the trajectory that had brought lasted most of my days of racing but it wasn’t long before reality set in and I realized my days at the front could be over. In 2011, I hoped to use another victory to prepare for a win at Whiskey 50 and a trip to single speed World Championships. I didn’t win at SOC but I was able to just two weeks later!

Last year, I raced again hoping for a win but knowing better. I had learned about my sleep apnea and chronic fatigue the year before, but I wasn’t anywhere near where I had been just two years before. My legs were heavy and the fire that had raged inside me was just a smoldering ember. It was enough to dig deep and even catching the race leader halfway through the race, but it wasn’t enough to close the deal.

This year I hesitated to register. I avoided my single speed. I became entangled in the emotion USA Cycling’s recent power trip over “forbidden races”. Then I raced Mudslinger and while I wasn’t great I realized that I wasn’t done either. Just days before leaving to Monterey, I registered for another Sea Otter and then I got sick.

Not death-bed sick but just a little cold–enough to be stuffed up, grumpy, and full of negativity. I regretted my decision to race and went through the motions of getting ready. That meant rebuilding the bike since nearly every bearing had to be repacked. It also meant forgoing my usual steady diet of two-wheeled adventures and rationing myself a few short rides to recover.

Sunny Morning on Way to Sea Otter!

We enjoyed a beautiful morning in Yreka as we traveled and managed to arrive in time to be rested and ready for race day. Despite dotting “i’s” and crossing “t’s”, I still had little hope for a curtain call as I arrived to the start line. The field was small but there were plenty of great single speed racers there and even some faces I didn’t recognize.

Soon we were off and I stayed at the front warming up my body with the big gear I chose. Before long a couple riders passed me but I immediately noticed that I was able to close the gaps at will. Soon we turned west and into the relentless coastal afternoon breeze and I left them behind.

Before long I reached one of the hardest climbs and I braced myself for what seemed like imminent failure. I eased into the climb and tried to pedal as smoothly as possible. The pitch increased and I stood to compensate. My trusty steed dug in and sprang forward. My muscles burned but only in effective response. Then it was over and I was rolling downhill!

A grin twisted one side of my mouth as a pushed the CO2 from my body and tucked into a bullet shape suddenly knowing that this momentary victory would be tested again and again that afternoon. With each hill I conquered as sense of relief poured over me. I focused on being smooth rather than strong and slowly, patiently began the second lap.

This time I was sure the strength would ebb so I rode even more conservatively waiting for the hills to crush me. I was passing later starters and each time I encouraged them to continue hoping my words would give me wings too. Soon there was just one series of climbs left. These have always been the hardest and often I have had to dismount but it wasn’t necessary!

Then I was on the long road home and bowing my head into the gathering wind before cresting the hill and rolling down into the finish. It was that nearly perfect performance we all hope for and seldom have. It wasn’t “easy” because I don’t believe it is possible to push one’s limits unscathed from the effort.

Once again I can only be grateful for another chance to race to my potential for another day. Ultimately, I think that is really what we must strive for—our best! In racing it is easy to overlook those who didn’t “win” but the reality is that all the rest are hardly “losers”. In fact, everyone one who rolls to the start line must face their naked truths and own their destiny.

This is how I’ve returned to my roots in what I suppose has been my redemption as a cyclist. I look forward to embracing the unknowns of racing my bike rather that trying to control the outcome. After all, that is why I began this journey in the first place—to ride new trails and test my limits and enjoy the ride no matter what the destination!