Category Archives: Road
Kimberley, our domestic elite spokeswoman and team organizer, recaps her challenges and victories at the USA Pro Cycling Challenge.
A little over one week ago I finished racing in the inaugural 3-day women’s race at the US Pro Cycling Challenge, an experience I am proud to have been a part of, regardless of my own results. Almost as soon as the race finished, I had to shift my focus to the cross-country move that is now in progress (which deserves it’s own follow-up post), and so I am now finally catching my breath and reflecting on the weekend I worked so hard to prepare for. For the first time in several months, as a passenger in a rather uncomfortable truck loaded up with everything we own, I have nothing but time.
The US Pro Cycling Challenge is a high profile race that began in Colorado five years ago, but that until this year, highlighted only men. Like the thousands of cycling fans that flooded our state to see pro tour teams race, I too trekked up Lookout to add my cheers to the sufferfest, and last year I loved having the opportunity to watch the Denver finish from the NovoNordisk tent. But unlike those other fans, for me it was bittersweet. I was thrilled to see Colorado host such a high profile race, and the community support was absolutely mind-blowing to me. The fact that I had to climb a lightpole to see over the buzzing crowd at Civic Center Park highlights this. I had no idea there were so many fans of this rather obscure sport I fell in love with. But while I was simultaneously energized by the community enthusiasm, I yearned for professional women to have their own race… our own race. As the race continued to grow each year, I was cautiously optimistic that the organizers would lend their ears to the growing voices that begged the question… “But why isn’t there a women’s race?” This wasn’t just about us bike racers wanting equality, but the community wanting to see strong women who inspire and encourage their daughters, sisters, mothers. So when almost one year ago the announcement was made that the 2015 US Pro Cycling Challenge would include a 3-day professional women’s stage race, I was thrilled.
Even then, just thinking about what this race would mean, my heart skipped a beat, and I knew without a doubt I wanted to be there. Not just watching and cheering, but racing. However, given the significance of the race, and the fact that it would be a team invite-only race, I knew that obtaining a spot would be a challenge. Pro teams would be building their strongest roster, and there would be many more riders hoping to race than teams to take them on. My heart sunk with the realization that even if I focused all my training efforts on this race, much was still outside of my control. Much like the rest of bike racing, much like the rest of life. It was right about then that I realized that rather than being discouraged or abandon this dream, I could do something about it. So early this spring I decided I wanted to develop an all-Colorado composite team to race at the inaugural women’s US Pro Cycling Challenge. If I was feeling this frustration at wanting so desperately to race but not being able to, I knew other women were too. A composite team like I was envisioning wouldn’t change the world, at least not in one race, but it would provide an incredible experience for five other hard working women.
I wrote what I hoped would be a convincing proposal, sent it off to Sean Petty, and then did my best to find the right balance of demonstrating my investment, but not being annoyingly pushy. A few months later I got the invitation I’d been anxiously waiting for, and soon everything was abuzz with excitement and planning. I was introduced to Robert Carroll, a local man who was also passionate about women’s racing, and we began collaborating to make this team the best we possibly could in a relatively short amount of time. Together we selected five other riders from three other teams, and had our first team meeting the end of June, less than two months from our first race. Between then and last Sunday, we brought on several great sponsors, including Pactimo, who crafted the amazing kits for the team, Empire Nissan, who provided professionally wrapped team cars, RAD (Real Athlete Diet) food for the weekend, rock tape, and DU’s Daniels School of Business. Alison Powers, a retired racer and former national champion in all three road disciplines, volunteered her time to serve as our team’s DS. To chronicle the extent of the time and energy poured into this project, and the people who made it happen, would make for a post longer than anyone would care to read. But suffice it to say, I am humbled at the support we received and the way people rallied together to pull this thing off so successfully.
My own race results weren’t quite what I had hoped, at least partially thanks to the over 1000 ill-timed wildfires blowing smoke into our state. The smoke-laden air proved a formidable opponent to my asthma-cursed lungs, but I did the absolute best I could given the conditions. During the Loveland to Fort Collins stage, I remember being blown away by the fact that we could barely see the mountain we were about to climb. In the four years that I’ve lived in Colorado, never once have I breathed air that bad. I didn’t achieve a top ten finish, or even a top 20… but to be quite honest, to me, the race was still a success. The team wasn’t primarily about my own results, but the culmination of months of effort for a purpose beyond myself.
This race’s success was in the costumed fans lining moonstone pass, pumping their fists in their air and cheering themselves hoarse as I suffered my way to the top. It was in the two sisters who shyly came up to me as I was warming up on the trainer before my time trial, hoping I would sign the back of their t-shirts… and in the mother who asked if I’d be willing to take a picture with her small son, who’d recently been told by a friend at school that “girls don’t do sports.” I was there, along with Olympians and world champions, to prove him wrong.
In three days of racing, I experienced the perfect platform to enhance the dialogue about how great women’s cycling is and can be when we’re given an opportunity to shine. I had the opportunity to talk with the Denver Post, was unexpectedly featured on 9news as we pinned our number before the road race, and happily talked with Boulder-based Mary Topping of ProVeloPassion about our endeavor. The fact that news sources picked up this story is because I believe it’s one worth telling, regardless of our individual results. This collaborative effort to make a place for more women in professional bike races was a success, and I think it could be a great model to be repeated at other major races such as Tour of California, Tour of Utah, etc. I was talking with a friend and mechanic who was working with Mavic for the week, who confided that he was so glad that the women’s race was filled with true racing… not a “group ride with a sprint finish,” an unfortunate stereotype that many people believe characterizes women’s racing. Although originally I was disappointed that four years had to go by before adding a women’s race, I am glad the US Pro Challenge waited until they could do it right, which they absolutely did. The women’s race was a huge success on all accounts, as the photo below illustrates. As I carefully unpinned my numbers and reflected on the previous three days, I was filled with gratitude at the whole experience, and the familiar hunger for more. I folded those paper squares, and placed them in my “numbers from favorite races” box… a favorite race indeed. And with that, my 2015 bike racing season is a wrap!
Ava is one of our stellar Juniors (because she’s fast AND has a great head on her shoulders) from Durango, and she’s had an eventful summer! Here’s part 1 of a 2 part series exploring her racing endeavors.
My summer began early this year. I left school a week before the last day and began a very hard summer season. This being my first full season of racing I became very ambitious and used every bit of time available to me. So, beginning June 1st I participated in a week long USA Cycling Talent ID Camp for junior riders. I was the only girl who signed up, which was kind of a bummer, but keeping up with boys my age impressed the coaches a lot. Camp headquarters were at the CCU campus in Lakewood and we rode all over the area. I had never been to Red Rocks before and the view was well worth the fast climb.
During the camp they put us through power tests and then analyzed our numbers at the end of the week. My numbers were high enough and my riding skills were good enough that they invited me to race for USAC in August at the Colorado Junior Challenge. But that was months away.
After road camp I embarked on a mission to complete my track certification in three days, before I had to go back to Durango. Raced the Wheat Ridge Crit on pretty tired legs the day between the two and had a fun race with a decent result. Then, I worked one-on-one with the coaches at the Boulder Valley Velodrome to get my certification classes done. I had never ridden on the track before and was nervous about the fact that I didn’t have any brakes. It didn’t take long to get over it however, and soon I was flying around the track with these amazing riders they called in to teach me. By the end of the three days I had done all six courses and graduated from track school.
The next day I drove all the way back to Durango and had five days to prepare for amateur nationals in Truckee, California. I went on one group ride, just to fill everyone in on what I had been doing, and a couple easy road and mountain bike rides. With our Pathfinder packed full, and our trailer of camping supplies hitched, we drove the 13 hours to north Lake Tahoe. I had one day before the road race to spin and check out the course. I wasn’t feeling great, but I rode down the long descent and climbed up to where the finish line would be the next day. The finish was at the village of Northstar Resort and I found all the other Colorado juniors hanging out up there. After talking with them it was clear everyone was nervous about the climbing and especially the very last push up to the line. I didn’t feel any better.
Nevertheless, the next day I woke up early and my dad drove me out to the start line. Warm-up and race prep went fine and everyone seemed cheery and nice for the moment. We rode as a group across the flats and I led the pack towards the first steep climb. All was well until some of the climber girls attacked hard and I wasn’t prepared to go that hard. The main pack rode away and the other people who were dropped, including myself, worked together to try and not lose too much time. The leaders had a huge gap and we never caught them. I finished in a fine place and wasn’t too upset. I showered and changed and went back to watch the junior boys finish, the other Durangoan had a top 20 result and that made the day better.
Next was the time trial. The TT was completely flat 20k out in the desert, warm up went well again, and I was feeling good. My race started and I held the average speed I needed to make a top 10 time, but after the turn-around I consistently lost more and more speed and thus time. The event that is normally my natural specialty did not go well at all. I still had one more chance to redeem myself in the criterium, and I came very close to doing just that.
The crit was a 1 kilometer course in downtown Truckee, it was also very technical and dangerous. People had been crashing all day long on every part of the course. My whole field knew what was going to happen when the referee blew the whistle, and it happened very quickly. The two fastests girls took off and blew the whole field apart. I had kept a decent place and was working to catch the others in front of me. Girls were crashing left and right, due to sprinkling rain that began soon after we had started. The motos had been pulling riders behind my group very quickly and we were next. But before I could cross the finish line for the last time, I crashed in the most technical corner of the course. Very little damage was done but I had never gone down before and didn’t know what to do. My bike was fine and my injuries were not severe, just a lot of road rash. I made the mistake of getting off the course to find the medic tent before I officially crossed the finish line and therefore was counted as DNF. It was an upsetting blow since I would have placed top 15 had I not crashed on my last lap. So, we packed up our campsite and drove into Reno so I could take a shower and clean my wounds. The next day we drove back home. And then it was finally July….
Part deux of Ava’s summer adventures!
After an unexciting week at nationals I was back in Durango and in bad condition. My bruises made it very uncomfortable to ride hard so I just spun around town a couple times. During a trip to the lake a couple days later I tried my best to recuperate and re-energize myself for the Salida Stage Race. After a few weeks I wasn’t feeling much better, but I wasn’t about to miss the race that had began my cycling career 1 year earlier. So, we packed up and drove out to Salida. My arm had healed enough for me to debut my new and improved time trial position and I only missed my goal time, and the podium, by 2 seconds. I knew I had to get top 3 the next day in the criterium, as I am desperately trying to upgrade to SW’s. I did all my pre-race stuff and didn’t feel very “speedy”. During the race my cornering was way off and I couldn’t push the pace at all, I just didn’t have it in me. Last lap I made one final push to no avail, but by some miracle I was in the front for the sprint to the line. Now I am never in the right gear to sprint and Salida was no different. My gear was too big so I tucked and time trialled as hard as I could to the line, narrowly beating the girl next to me to the line. I ended the race in third place, my best result yet. I collected my medal and drove home skipping the road race.
I took the next four days off and went on a float trip in Utah. When I got back I still wasn’t feeling fast. I had one week until the Bannock Crit and I needed the win. I trained easy and tried to recover enough to race hard. The day before the crit we went to watch the Pro women race in Littleton, which was an awesome way to start the weekend! Warming up for Bannock I was pretty nervous about the race because all my tough competition had shown up and I was still tired. I pushed the pace hard from the whistle and go the race going from there. After that I just hung on the back and tried to conserve my energy. My positioning on the final hill and around the last corner cost me the race. The riders around me just had more left in their legs’ than I did. I finished 8th and didn’t get my points. I had to race again in my age category a couple hours later and didn’t have any better results. Finally I was finished and ate my volunteer lunch, which was delicious. I then did all my volunteer hours and had fun watching all the other races.
Six days later I packed my bike onto a plane and headed to North Carolina to visit colleges. The riding in N.C is incredible, and uphill, all the time. Hills aren’t really my thing but I had fun nonetheless and it was helpful in narrowing down my college choices. On the 13th we flew back to Denver and I had one day to prepare for the big junior only race. I was picked up by the USAC coaches and all the other athletes and I were driven out to Silt. After a good team ride/ time trial recon we cleaned the restaurant of chocolate milk and pasta. I told the coaches I wasn’t prepared to get good results at the race, but I would work hard for my teammates.
The TT was uphill and less than pleasant, it felt like I was crawling for 5 miles. We had a crit later in the day, so I had another chance, sounds familiar. At the crit the pace eventually quickened enough that I bonked and was dropped off the back. The course was fun but challenging and my teammate had an incredible race, very nearly lapping the field by herself. The coaches took us out to eat filet mignon that night, we drank all their chocolate milk once again.
The road race ended in me getting my first race flat ever. But the team worked together and kept the GC spot. Even though my last road races of the season did not go very well I had a lot of fun with the USAC team, and impressed the coaches with my cheeriness. And now I am not allowed to ride my bike until September as I have raced more than my body could handle. But then I will be back on my mountain bike competing in the Colorado High School League. As a first full summer of riding and racing I think it went pretty good, I definitely wore myself out racing so much in the spring, but the amount of progress made was enormous. Next years gonna be even better!
Lanier, resident strong woman and selfless teammate, jumped in to Deer Trail State Road Race with low expectations, but you never know how a race will turn out!
I decided to race Deer Trail the day after the City Park crit primarily because my coach urged me to get some high intensity miles done. The race is east of Denver, an L-shape on narrow empty roads with cone U-turns at each end. I haven’t raced it in a couple of years, and remember liking the rolling course as a Cat 4. But racing as a Cat 2 is a whole different ball game.
I had such low expectations that I left my saddle bag on (intentionally this time) so that I wouldn’t get stranded if I got a flat. Surprisingly for the State Championship Road Race, it was a small group – only 9 of us started. We joked at the start that we should give everyone else a hard time. Looking around, all of them seemed serious about getting the state championship vest. I decided this would be an excellent time trial effort for me after they dropped me at mile 10.
The race began. After a slow start, the attacks began. They would drop me on the hills, then I would catch up on the flats/downhills. At first I thought, why work to catch up? But I could hear my coach in my head, and decided it would be good training. This happened probably 4-5 times. One rider was dropped, then another got a flat. Two others were dropped. So it was 5 of us left. At this point, I was wondering what the hell I was still doing in that group – ha!
At mile 50, a crash in the oncoming SM4 field sent bikes and riders sliding into our side of the road, and another rider and I went down. She was in front of me, and I had slowed but not enough. Her handlebar was bent and our bikes were tangled up together, but mine was fine so I got going again. Another racer caught up with me, and we started chasing the first 3. They saw us at the turnaround, and they were gone. It came down to a sprint at the end, and I took 4th. Just goes to show, you truly never know how a race will turn out. So get out there and race, my friends!
Kim snags the top step in the CSU Oval Criterium! Read more on how riding a little less may have helped her ride to victory!
This Sunday I drove up to Fort Collins to race the CSU Oval Criterium. Although I had the opportunity to race twice in Arizona for the early season VOS and TBC races, this would be my first Colorado Race. As I was driving up, I made the decision that I wanted to start it off well, with exciting and aggressive racing, risk taking, trusting my training, and mental fortitude. I told Marcus, “I think I can win this race!” This goal was immediately threatened by a bit of unexpected traffic due to multiple accidents, adding a solid 30 minutes to what is typically an hour drive. I had even planned what I thought would plenty of margin for the drive. I began to feel a bit frazzled, compulsively glancing at the clock, as one by one, the minutes remaining before my race start elapsed. I took a breath… this entire year has been a lesson in controlling the controllables, and breathing deep and finding calm in the many variables that are outside my grasp. For anyone who thinks bike racing has no relevance to “real life”, you are mistaken. Bike racing has taught me invaluable lessons about planning well but taking the inevitable surprises in stride, in a way that has served me well far beyond the race course.
We arrived at the CSU campus 45 minutes before my start time, and Marcus dropped me off as close as he could get to race registration before finding a parking spot. Thankfully I’ve now developed quite a streamlined routine, so although 45 minutes from car to start line is far from ideal, it’s not impossible. Registration completed, bibs/jersey/shoes/helmet/sunglasses on and beet juice drinken (why Marcus, equally fluent in the pre-race checklist, pumped my tires and put chain lube on), and I still had 15 minutes to spin around before the start. I returned to my previously set goal, before the traffic and rushed preparation and premature adrenaline rush. Despite all those, I wanted to win this race, and there was no reason why I shouldn’t. One of my biggest challenges in racing has been learning to take risks and push beyond my comfort zone. Trusting that the training I’ve done is enough, and my legs can handle the load. So I decided that today, there would be no giving up. I would allow my body to get to a new level. Far too many people are held back by the fear of what they may not do that they never find out what they can do. I resolved that I would rather fail because I’d exceeded my limit then finish having not even attempted to reach it.
From the first lap I raced aggressively, driving pace, attacking, chasing, counter-attacking. I was in a glorious place of mental clarity, purpose and determination. I timed my moves well, and trusted my training. As the race went on, the field was slowly whittled down, with several riders losing contact with the group, and several more just hanging on the tail end. With five laps to go I was still feeling strong, and began to put myself in position for the finish. I marked two of the other riders, who I judged as among the strongest, and patiently waited, as the familiar cat and mouse interactions unfolded. With one lap to go, one rider went, attacking hard off the front, but my marked riders didn’t jump, and neither did I. We kept the pace steady, and I made sure to stay near the front. In too many races, I’ve been forced to let off the throttle in my finish as I tried to move around riders who’d run out of gas before the line, and I wanted to finish this race knowing that I had given it all. We were closing the gap between the lone rider ahead, and caught her with less than 500 meters before the finish. I began my sprint earlier than I typically do, before the final bend of the oval that the course is named for, and didn’t look back.
In this moment of temporary pain, as I kept my eyes just beyond the finish line, I took my first win of not only this season, but of the last two. My entire being felt a rush of something I can only describe as gratitude, pride, resolution, and acceptance all rolled into one soul-warming experience. It was almost as if in this win, some of the broken pieces were coming back together. This year has been the most challenging one I’ve had in quite a while. A broken neck, sub-par race results, personal and professional challenges and changes, and set-back after set-back left me wondering if everything I was doing was in vain. Despite my best attempts, some of these circumstances and additional time commitments impacted my training, and my volume was slightly lower than it has been in previous years. I questioned whether I would have built enough base or be in form by race season, but I knew I could only do my best, which I had. After the race I jokingly said to my husband, “I guess not riding as much this year served me well!” He gently smiled, and replied, “I think adversity serves you well.” Although the circumstances of this year are far from what I have chosen, I have done my best to take them in stride and become a stronger person. I have been learning that measuring effort solely by outcome will sooner or later leave you feeling uncertain and discouraged. Hard work, integrity, and endurance in the face of trial is never in vain. It may take longer to see why or how, but it will come. This past Sunday I got a small taste of that delicious fruit that comes from never giving up.
Bodies of water and bridges are no match for this fearless Naked lady. Read how Heidi squashes those fears on two wheels.
So I have a huge fear of water. I mean, HUGE. Some call it irrational, I say it’s erring on the side of safety after a very scary incident when I was 6 or 7 years old. I won’t go in water over five feet deep, boats are not something I see as enjoyable, I will not put my face in water (my swim technique is fantastic, let me tell you), I won’t go in open bodies of water (everything besides a bathtub and pool are out, in other words), and later as an adult I hate driving over bridges over water. Aside from making sure I’ll never be a triathlete, I’ve gotten by quite alright in life without the deep watery stuff.
What does all this really have to do with anything, except making all y’all think I might be crazy? Well, in December 2011 an ex-boyfriend and I road tripped through Seattle. No one warned me that I-90 crossed Lake Washington via a “floating bridge.” Yes, a bridge over a mile long that sits on the surface of the water. I mean, the water is right there. I’m pretty sure I cried the entire way across, and my ex mentioned that people ride bicycles across the bridge. “Are they freakin’ crazy?! Who the heck would do that?” I exclaimed – I wasn’t a cyclist yet and that just seemed so absurd on so many levels.
Fast forward to March 2015. I’m a full blown cycling nut, that boyfriend is long gone, and wouldn’t you know, work was sending me to Seattle for eight days. Since I couldn’t possibly be without a bike for that period of time, I rounded up a rental road bike and set about planning out some rides. Of course, one of the better rides I could access from my downtown starting point would be going across the I-90 floating bridge to Mercer Island. Gulp. “Fine, I’ll ride across that damn bridge!” I exclaimed to myself.
Luckily the day I chose was sunny and not very windy. I made my way through Chinatown rush hour traffic successfully (an adventure in its own right) and found myself on the I-90 bike path. Soon the bridge was in sight, and half of me wanted to turn around. After stopping to catch my breath, I hesitantly pointed my front tire down the bridge and pushed off. As I descended down to the water level I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I calmed my breathing and had such an intense focus on the ground 10 feet in front of the bike that I wouldn’t even move my eyes to check my Garmin. I’d take a couple of pedal strokes, and coast, couple of pedal strokes, and coast. The nearly calm cross wind felt like a hurricane. Then suddenly I realized I was ok, and it was just time to pedal pedal pedal all the way across. Before I knew it I was on Mercer Island and on solid ground. Woohoo, I made it!
The return trip was a bit more frightening to me as I would have to be on the closest side to the water. When a bike path is only nine feet wide to begin with, I just wasn’t comfortable. So I decided I was British and rode on the left side, only barely moving over when other cyclists approached. It probably didn’t help that the bike shop I rented the bike from scared me with the thoughts of hooking the handlebars in the simple metal rail that separates the bikes from the water. Once again intense concentration got me across to solid ground on the Seattle side. Two for two! I will admit to a happy dance at the observation point above the bridge and gushed to a random guy with a bike about how I rode over that silly scary floating bridge!
Bicycles have a funny way of pushing us to do stuff we never would’ve considered otherwise… I’ve only been riding shy of three years, and yet I’ve done so many things I never would’ve even thought of doing otherwise. Most people don’t think twice about going over bridges over water, but I’m still in awe I willed myself across one on a bicycle when usually I panic in a car. Might seem simple or silly to most, but I love the fact that a simple two wheel contraption powered by merely my legs has taken me to so many places and on so many adventures, and has helped me conquer some fears along the way!
Melissa recaps one of the perks of being Naked Women’s Racing team and club member – clinics taught by the pros! Thank you Jen Sharp and Alison Powers for helping us ride safer and smarter in the races to come!
One of the many benefits of being part of such a great women’s cycling team is having the opportunity to participate in skills clinics. We were fortunate to learn from the best of the best athletes and coaches, Alison Powers and Jennifer Sharp. The two coaches met up with 20 women from the Naked team and shared their expertise with us on riding and racing in a pack out on the road.
There were several ladies there that have been on the team for a few years, but there were also many new faces that participated. It was a great opportunity for us to meet our new teammates and share in this experience together.
There were many skills that Alison and Jen taught us. The most valuable piece of information I took away from the clinic was “protecting your box.” This is the area from your headtube to drop bars to the edge of your front wheel. If you can keep this area clear from other riders, you can be more confident that you won’t go down in a crash. This was valuable to me because I went down in a crit last season and it has been a challenge for me to become comfortable positioning myself in the middle of a fast-paced pack of racers.
We also practiced various types of pacelines through Cherry Creek State Park. I know that something everyone was able to improve was “making your bubble smaller.” We practiced this by riding much closer to one another in the pacelines.
Today was about learning new skills and getting outside of our comfort zones. Most of us agreed that we gained a lot from this clinic and are eager to put it into practice!
Naked Women’s Racing has a mission to grow the sport of women’s cycling from the ground up – through support of new racers in our various programs – and now at the top of the ranks too as we embark on our domestic elite status for 2015. Are you a Cat 1/2 female cyclist who is concerned with growing the sport too? Perhaps you can guest ride with us! Read more from our NRC/NCC veteran, Kim Johnson.
Although I am only 26 years old and wouldn’t consider myself even close to being a veteran in the sport, I’ve raced at the elite level for long enough to see a trend emerge. Every fall, social media is abuzz with the latest news about who is joining what team, which team is folding, new sponsors stepping up to support a women’s team, etc, and then usually late in the fall official rosters are posted. There seems to be a flaw in the system, and one that hinders the growth of high-level women’s racing (but a flaw, I will also note, that does not have an easy solution). The addition of new teams is excellent, but over the past few years, they have tended to replace teams that folded. So instead of a new sponsor bringing up a fresh group of talent to join the mix, riders seem to shuffle, in a musical-chairs type interchange based on what vacancies are available. As a rider who has worked incredibly hard over the past few years to make the jump to the next level, those spots seem to be painfully few.
I have hope that that can change. Despite my personal setback (a fractured C2 the day after Gila, which relegated the majority of my season to “brisk walking” in a neck brace), I saw stirrings in the world of professional cycling. More and more women rising up to call out inequality as they saw it and question the rationale of missed opportunities simply because of a second x chromosome. Momentum continued to build in women’s cycling; for the first since the 1980’s, women had a stage at the Tour de France, and by the end of the season, 3 major US Stage Races (the Tour of California, Tour of Utah, and US Pro Challenge) had committed to giving women several stages of their own in 2015.
Over the past few years I’ve had the opportunity to race at numerous professional level races throughout the US, and am incredibly thankful for Naked Women’s Racing’s support of my endeavors and the opportunities I have had to guest ride. At the same time, the logistical chaos and meticulous planning that it’s taken to get to these races have highlighted a challenge in women’s cycling that many of us know all too well: there are more talented, qualified riders than there are teams to support us. This year a new layer was added, when a large number of races were given UCI status, making them officially team-only events. In laymen’s terms, this means that in order to race at the Tour of the Gila, for example, a rider would need to be a registered member of a UCI or domestic elite team. Before this change, it was challenging to be a solo rider doing her best to stay in contention in a race dominated by team tactics and the UHC Blue Train, now it would be impossible to even show up at the start line.
I spent a few days in a state of inner turmoil, contemplating my upcoming season and my goals, and discussing this dilemma with my ever-supportive husband. On one hand, I could re-adjust my goals and expectations, plan a few regional stage races, but focus more on local races and maybe a few NCC criteriums here and there. That way, I would plan for what I knew I could do. On the other hand, I could target “dream big” races like the Redlands Bicycle Classic and the Tour of the Gila, and do everything in my power to secure a guest riding position, while accepting I may not be able to go. The idea that I could be training so incredibly hard for something that was completely out of my power to accomplish was heartbreaking, but the thought of letting go of a goal simply because of unknown was unacceptable.
A few nights later I lay in bed, far more alert than I ever want to be at midnight, and was struck by a thought. If you want to go, and it’s team only, make the team, and go! I pushed it out of my brain space of realistic options — never trust any seemingly brilliant solutions you come up with after midnight — but the next morning it was still there. The deep desire to race at my target events was what catalyzed my midnight problem solving session, but the realization that this could move beyond myself was what kept in there in the morning. Just as I’ve poured out blood, sweat, and tears just trying to get to races, so have many other talented, hardworking women. Cycling is as brutal a sport as it is glorious, and it can be easy to feel defeated or like luck is always against you. I can’t tell you the number of people who’ve seen my scars and asked casually if I should “probably just quit cycling?” But the reality is, far more cyclists ride waves of ups and downs than a fairytale-like rise to professional status. Evelyn Stevens is a lovely individual — but her tantalizing story is a rare one. I’m not here to whine — there’s plenty of that, and it does no good. Rather, I am trying to provide context to what Naked Women’s Racing is gearing up to do this year. One low-budget domestic elite team will not solve the problems that women’s cycling is facing, but it will provide a logistical way for 4-8 more women to show up at the start line than currently can.
I proposed this nascent idea to the leading ladies of Naked Women’s Racing, and they were on board! Over the next few weeks, we will be slogging through the paperwork that is required, and by the end of March we will appear on USA cycling’s list of Domestic Elite Teams. I am incredibly excited to see what will come of this step, and we are proud to be able to open up an opportunity for more qualified women to race at a National level. In addition to the category 1/2 riders already on the team, we are hoping to extend an guest-riding invitation to regional riders who would like to target NRC and NCC races. Please contact us if you would like to be considered, and stay tuned for updates!
Melissa shares her 2014 road season recap in photos. And mighty fine ones at that!
Earlier in this year my husband purchased a new camera and has been photographing our team throughout the season. He is quite talented in capturing what cycling truly is through still images. This is a recap of the 2014 road season through photographs.
Don’t unpack that suitcase full of excuses! Lanier will help you get out on that winter group ride!
Group rides are a great part of any off season program. You get to know your teammates, work off holiday calories and retain the group riding skills essential for races and centuries. However, it can be hard to fit group rides in.
I am queen of excuses. I also talk to myself from time to time (don’t judge). Here are some of my favorite excuses, and effective arguments I use with myself to get out of the house.
E: I don’t have time.
A: When you put it on your calendar you had plenty of time, Lanier. Besides, you’re leading it. Shut up and get on the bike.
E: It’s too cold.
A: As your husband likes to remind you, you spend a small fortune on super-special cold weather cycling gear. Now put it all on, and get on the bike.
E: I am tired / grumpy / hungover.
A: You will feel much better after riding with teammates. They always cheer you up. Down a double-shot of espresso and a Naked coconut water, and get on the bike.
E: These climbers are going to leave me in the dust.
A: Since when did you ever climb on a solo ride? Besides, you swore off hill climbs and haven’t seen these particular teammates all season. You can chat with them on the flats before the climbing starts. They are good company, even if they are disgustingly tiny with legs like pistons powering away on the hill. But hey, maybe they’ll be hungover!
See you on a group ride soon!