life unfiltered

Last weekend, I was on the road early, headed to HPCX. The sun rose as I made my way North on the Turnpike. I thought about the pictures that people take of sunrises and sunsets, frequently adding the hashtag “no filter.” 

And then I thought about filters...isn’t nature beautiful the way it is? Why would it need a filter?

And then I thought about life...it’s not alway pretty...and I think a lot of people have a tendency to live life filtered. They see what they choose to see. They select what to show us.

For better or for worse, that has never been the case with me. I say a lot of things I probably shouldn’t and I give zero fucks about it.

In some respects it’s good because you will always get exactly what you see when you interact with me. In some respects it’s not good because expressing myself in this way puts everything on the table, leaving me without shelter.

It follows me in conversations at work...at the gym...at races...in emails...in text messages...and I know that it is all with good intention, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

WhirlyBird CX

I mentioned in a previous post that growing up, I wasn’t exactly an all-star athlete. I was over weight, made fun of and always the last kid picked in gym class. I participated, but wasn’t very good at sports. 

In high school, I didn’t allow my parents to come to the games. What was the point in them coming to watch me sit the bench? 

Thankfully, I grew out of the awkwardness (about four years after my peers) and shed some weight. I was a decent athlete (rowing) in college. Twenty years have passed, but I’d like to think that I am still in fairly decent shape for my age.  

WhirlyBird CX was later this season and at a different location, but it is a special race for me because it was my first. Three years later, it became even more special with my mom on the sidelines watching. 

I’ve come a long way since those awkward teen years. I’m sure it must have hurt my mom that I did not want her at my sporting events. Even though it was never discussed, she probably understood the reason why, because that’s just the way mom’s are. 

Thanks Mom, for supporting me all these years.

HPCX

The rule for this season is no races more than an hour away from home. Charm City is one of my favorites and it was tugging at my heartstrings last weekend. I resisted the urge to travel to Baltimore. It was the right decision for both personal and financial reasons.

HPCX was new for me last year. I remember that it was brutally cold and that there was no place nearby to get coffee. 

I arrived at Thompson Park a little before 8AM and proceeded to double flat on the pre-ride. My initial instinct was to pack up and go home. After some persuasion, I headed over to the Stan’s No Tubes tent for support. The mechanic was able to seal my front tire, but couldn’t guarantee that the rear tire would hold. No pre-ride, no warm up, sealant oozing out of my back tire and my race goes off in thirty minutes. 

My pit bike is a peanut butter sandwich...let’s eat...then let’s spend $100 on new tires at the bike shop!

I can’t say that I was thrilled when the alarm went off at 6am on Sunday morning. It was dark and cold, like frost on the windshield cold. This time, I pulled out all the stops...a road bike, trainer (what?? who warms up?) and two CX bikes made the journey with me. I cannot believe how much shit one person needs for a 40 minute bike race.

The course on Sunday was new this year and it included two sand pits. I watched people ride, but I also saw some epic failures. Running would be the fastest way for me to get through this section. I committed to the run, even though most people around me would be attempting to ride.

I had a decent start and settled in somewhere around 4th or 5th. There was nowhere to recover on this course. If it wasn’t the sand it was a climb or a run up. It wore me down, but it felt good. I hung in there and battled it out for a third place finish, which was a nice turn around from the double flat on day one.

Caffeinated CX

When it comes to racing, I have found myself walking a fine line on more than one occasion since my brother’s diagnosis two years ago. Racing has either served as a distraction OR I have been too distracted to race. I walked that line this weekend. 

I was up at 6am and on my way to work registration. After a pre-ride I scratched the idea of riding my mountain bike. The clay run up was way too steep and that bike was too heavy to carry. 

This was the third year for Caffeinated CX. I did not race the previous two years. It looked as if this year would be no different. My mind was not in the right place. There is a lot of anger inside me right now. Far too many times I have been met with the response “I’m sorry” and it has only made it worse. It has made it worse to the point where I just shut down and sat with my anger. 

I saw a couple friends at the race who made me feel a little bit better...people who understand what is going on...people who will be real with me. 

I got my number and pinned it on. Maybe racing will help. 

So I did...and I did it for no reason other than to forget life for 45 minutes...and it helped. 

I ride for an amazing bike shop. My teammates are all great guys. The friends I have made racing cx for the past three years are genuinely good people.

Gratitude