The Dirt Field

It is 11:06am and in one hour, I will leave my hotel in Boston to ride my bike downtown for my final race of the season.

My hands are shaking as I write this, partially from pre-race nerves and partially because I cannot believe I am here, at the end of this incredible season. When I began racing back in March, I was riding my Seven cross bike with slick tires and planning to do a few road races as training for my first season as a pro cross country mountain bike racer. Now I am a road racer. I have the bike, the team, the clothes, the scars, and most of all, the heart of a road racer.

A more thorough recap of this year will have to wait until after this race, since I’m in no state of mind to remember details clearly. Right now, it’s all a fabulous blur of places and people and corners and finish lines and car trips. I had more success this past year than I could have ever imagined; instead of a ‘pancake year’ (aka, a throwaway) as a newbie in the pro mountain bike races, I lined up at national-level races in city centers and held my own. Sometimes it wasn’t pretty, sometimes I felt overwhelmed and afraid, but in the end, all I remember is how good it all felt, even the parts that hurt.

And there has been hurt, more than I can ever express. Disappointments on the bike, injuries and setbacks, and the part where my dedication to cycling and racing drove a wedge between Bobby and me that neither of knows if we can repair. Now I’m in a hotel room in a city alone, pursuing this dream because I believe in it and love this sport completely.

I don’t know what the future will hold. Maybe I’ll win today or come in 20th or dead last. Maybe I’ll get on a pro team and go on to race at Worlds in Richmond in 2015. Maybe my life will balance itself out and I’ll wake up one day and know that everything is as it should be. But for right now, I am going to go do what I do best: ride hard, dream big, and cross that line today knowing that I have done the very best I could.