On Handling Bad Times Like A Pro Or Something

Posted on by Lindsay
Things have been unraveling since I slammed into the ground during the first North Star Grand Prix crit on June 15. When the crash happened and I was cleared by the hospital and the stage was neutralized, I went back into the race the following day like nothing had gone wrong. I did that stage and all the others after it, limping along stubbornly and pushing my body so hard. There was no logic in what I was doing but I couldn't stop and wouldn't let anybody around me say otherwise. That mindset is my greatest gift and curse as an athlete - I never stop. But I should have. Then, or in the days after, but I didn't. I tried to race and then started another cross-country drive out west. I called that drive my "time off" but who the hell is ridiculous enough to think driving 5-6 hours a ...continue reading.

Joe Martin < Me

Posted on by Lindsay
Today is the first stage of the Joe Martin Stage Race, a 4.84 kilometer uphill time trial. Then we have two road races and a crit over the following three days. Stage racing is great! Supermint is great! Bikes are great! Last time I was at this race in 2014, I had a massive meltdown. Things were bad that year. For reasons I'm still trying to understand, I fell apart completely and lost half a season to panic attacks, performance anxiety, and endless crying spells. It took months to climb out of the dark hole and stop hating racing and myself, and sometimes I still worry that shadow is going to come back. Joe Martin was one of the worst periods in that time. Things were going to pieces before I even made it to Fayetteville and on the night before the first stage, I took the team van, drove to a local bar, ...continue reading.

Apparently this is life

Posted on by Lindsay
In looking at this site the other day, I noticed that the page about the dogs has yet to be updated. How do I write Scout out of the plot here? It’s one thing to add a paragraph about Tanner and how he is so wonderful except for the part where I can now touch concrete through over a dozen holes in the bedroom carpet. It’s an entirely different matter to turn everything about Scout into the past tense and then cap his bio off with “…and now he’s dead.” I like to say it that way for the shock value; not for you, but for me. Something about putting it so bluntly makes it feel like bludgeoning myself over the head with a watermelon in a pillowcase. In the days right after he died, I’d say it over and over in different ways like some weird chant. “He’s dead. HE’s ...continue reading.

Fail to Win

Posted on by Lindsay
I raced Philly. We packed Kobe into the car to join us for the trip, I showed up and only cried three times, and then I raced. It was somewhat surreal; my first World Cup and I couldn't even engage enough to feel anxious. At one point during the race, Lauren Hall made a comment about how I wasn't smiling and so I replied, "my dog died," and started to cry. She then pointed out the moto with the camera that was filming us. Good times. Before the race started, I noticed my teammate had "FAIL" written on her bars. That seemed like an interesting tactic and for a moment I thought about writing "YOU SUCK" on mine in solidarity, but instead asked for an explanation. "It's a reminder," she answered. "Fail to win. It reminds me to go out and give everything I've got to win." I mulled that over ...continue reading.

Racing at Half Mast

Posted on by Lindsay
Tomorrow is the first World Cup of my cycling career, the Philadelphia International Cycling Classic. While I've done this race every year since 2011, this is the longest, hardest version yet and also the first time I'll be doing it as a World Cup. You can learn more about the significance of the World Cup series here. I have been eager and anxious all season to step up to competing at the highest level of the sport with the best women in the world. But to be honest, I am struggling to give a shit. I miss my dog. Racing my bike seems frivolous and empty at the moment, as does just about everything else. Work? Ugh. Training? Ugh. It feels like a chore to even care about things like getting the mail or shaving my legs. I just want to sit on the floor with Kobe and wait for time to pass. The ...continue reading.

To My Dog

Posted on by Lindsay
Dear Scout, When I first met you, you were tubby and fluffy and covered in filth, trotting down the driveway of the family that was giving you away for free on Craigslist. Some guy had gotten there first and was taking you home, and even though we'd known each other for about fourteen seconds, I knew you needed to be my dog. I followed the guy's truck as he drove away with you, flagged him down into a parking lot, and offered to pay an inordinate sum of money if I could have you. Then you vomited and pooped in my car. We were off to a great start. You were quiet and reserved when you first moved in, spending a lot of time in the armchair with your back to us and peeing on the corner of the bed so often I had to buy a new one. I ...continue reading.