The Dirt Field

When I think of childbirth, I imagine it’s a massive undertaking of pain and exhaustion, followed by the moment when you first look at the baby and feel a massive rush of joy and love. And probably some panic as well because WHAT HAVE I DONE, I OWN A HUMAN.

This was also how I felt at the Hagens Berman | Supermint Pro Cycling Team camp this past week.

After so much preparation and planning all fall and winter, we gathered the riders and staff at a house in Southern California to officially kick off our season. Seeing the whole team roll out together in matching kits on matching equipment followed by a matching car made me nearly fall off my bike with happiness and pride. We did this. Jono and I made this from scratch. Then I realized I’d forgotten to put the bananas and bars in the team car and now that mattered a lot more because I was no longer just responsible for me.

It’s a weird feeling. Not a bad one, but odd. In many ways, I’m still green on the road. I defer to more experienced riders about when to chase and how to execute a plan and what to do when the plan falls apart. But now I’m surrounded by people that need to know things like which helmet to wear for the day’s ride and which races they’re going to attend and did I talk to that sponsor about that one thing. There were moments where the shoes felt far too big to fill and others where it all seemed thoroughly manageable.

It helps to have an amazing staff keeping everything flowing seamlessly. I could weep and hug them all. The times where I got to be “just” a rider enjoying camp were thanks to their hard work.

I feel like everybody goes to team camp and has mostly the same experience: I am so excited to be here! All of my things are new and shiny! This is the best team ever! Social media explodes with adorable team selfies and everybody is suuuuuuuuper excited about the season ahead. And then reality and time intervene and the season is tough and the team runs out of money and you don’t get picked for that one race and so on. I’m hyper attuned to predicting what could go wrong this year and figuring out how to prevent it but honestly have to conclude that I’m stumped now: this team is wonderful. There are no duds. I may have had a slight meltdown when the riders declared a pee stop less than an hour into the first ride, but then spent the rest of the day eating my words as they all blew me away with their tenacity, skill, and cohesiveness. Jono and I met in the garage after that first ride to whisper excitedly about how promising it all seemed.

There will probably be times this season that are hard. Cycling is a tough sport that demands so much of everybody, and there are bound to be difficult moments when everybody is tired and stuffed in a team van together for the fiftieth time. (WHO LEFT THE OLD SANDWICH UNDER THE SEAT?!? WTF OMG GUYS.) But if this camp is an indication of what lies ahead, this team is absolutely mint. Each of the women brings a unique personality and skillset – Allison hates the sound of spoons scraping plastic containers and does more intervals than everybody combined! Liza wears legwarmers when it’s hot enough that I’d prefer to be riding naked! Shoshauna raises pigs! – but when you put us together on bikes or around a dinner table, it clicks perfectly.

The girls start racing today at Chico Stage Race while I’m back in Tucson missing them all. My stomach thinks I’m racing today because I’m that nervous; when it’s not just your teammates but your team, it all matters that much more. My personal performance is no longer my only concern; now I care so deeply about the team and each of the riders that sometimes it feels like my own baby rolling around on two wheels. But like any mother, there comes a point where you have to launch your kid into the world, trust that they have everything they need to succeed in life, and then sit back and be proud of where they go.