The Bike Racer Mind - Pea Soup in a Blender

It's been over a year now since I began my quest to rid my hip of pain. It's been a long journey, and I'm still not very close to returning to the racing scene. The physical therapy is still up and down, and although I think it will help, the jury is still out on what the end result will be.

Despite this trying year, I still want to race my bike, and I still think of myself as a bike racer. Erin broke his jaw at Seward on Thursday, and each time I put pea soup in the blender so that Erin can drink it through a straw, I think "all this, for bike racing?" I also think of the other people I know who have crashed badly lately, and I wonder if this is all worth it.

On paper, bike racing is a pretty dumb sport. It's dangerous. And unpredictable. And about 90% of the time, it doesn't go the way you want it to. Unfortunately, these drawbacks are the exact reasons why I can't give it up. Bike racing terrifies me. Each completed race is a victory for me. Each moment on the journey is a challenge. I've entertained thoughts of making a triathlon comeback, but triathlon was always sort of easy for me. Easy in that it's predictable, I'm pretty good at it, and it comes naturally to me.

But bike racing doesn't come naturally to me at all. No one believes me when I say this, but I'm actually pretty bad at it.

I think challenging myself in this way is really important. Sometimes in my classes, people talk about how they aren't comfortable speaking in front of the class because they get nervous. This isn't an excuse, in my opinion. Throughout my whole life, I've done things that make me unbelievably nervous, such as bike racing, horseback riding, competitive figure skating and competing in general. After zipping through turns in a big pack or crashing on pavement, speaking in front of a class isn't so bad at all.

Actually, I can't really think of anything in daily life that is scarier than bike racing.