Happy Anniversary to Me and My Legs

Merry Christmas, all. Yes, it’s the Holidays as they call it here, and you are probably all but over the merriment. But, if you will, please indulge me as I have one more anniversary to celebrate. This month is my one year anniversary. No, I haven’t been hiding a secret love affair, but in December 2012 I did start something new. I became a cyclist. Today, as I finish my breakfast in Springtown, Texas, I thought it might finally be time to get started on my third entry into this blog.

December 25^th 2012, I was back home in Australia, sharing Christmas lunch with my Dad’s family when I overheard my Nana telling a guest, “Maddie’s going to the Olympics”. I was mortified. Seemingly, all my efforts at modesty were lost on my grandmother. What I had done, was give track cycling a try. Apparently, I had quite a knack for it.

So while I certainly haven’t made the Australian Olympic Team just yet, the sport of cycling has given me some amazing opportunities – ones that continue to surprise me each and every day. One year ago, I would never have dreamt that I would be racing my Olympic hero Anna Meares in a Kierin.

Let’s be honest, she and all the other elite cyclists beat me decisively but – whatever!

Going on, I could never have imagined I would be accepting a scholarship to a US College to race bikes, this time last year. Never.

And, is it too far of a stretch to say that spending Christmas with my college roommate’s family here in Springtown is attributed to beginning cycling? In fact, if you look at it that way, everything I have done since arriving in the US in August would never have happened if I had not decided to walk into the Adelaide Superdrome late last year. What a life changing decision that turned out to be.

To take it one final step further, it also took the belief of one man to put me on this path. One man who believed in the raw talent he saw that Sunday afternoon. I know for a fact that I am just the most recent in a long list of grateful beneficiaries whose lives have changed because of this person’s generosity and passion for cycling. All the thanks in the world wouldn’t be enough, but I will say it just the same. Thank you. You know who you are.

So, that being said, where am I one year on? What does my new life look like? How does it compare to the old?

My new life in the US currently, revolves around two things. When I am not sleeping or eating, it seems I am dedicating my life to one or the other. 

Firstly, there’s the culture absorption that must be done. Yes, I am still very much a tourist here in Texas.

I might not be in a major capital city with world-renowned tourist destinations, but as the locals here believe, Texas might as w­­ell be its own country. Whether it’s another night at the local country bar for some two-stepping or Two-for-One Taco Tuesdays with the cycling team, there’s always something to do that makes me feel like I am one step closer to discovering the heartbeat of this place. It’s not my top priority and can sometimes be the worst distraction, but there’s nothing I love more than quenching my touristic thirst with what my new college friends deem to be a “must-do” or a “must-see” activity for Miss Australia.

When I’m not being distracted, however, there is a more important past-time that I spend my time on. It’s what brought me half way across the world, after all. Cycling or more specifically – the training – is what my daily schedule revolves around. If I don’t plan it this way, it doesn’t get done and that is not an option.

If you have never been around cycling, it can come as a surprise as to how much one must train. When I was playing netball, I certainly didn’t have a monthly schedule with only a handful of days off. Maybe I would’ve been a better netballer if I had, but today, once the temperature increases a couple more degrees, I will be back out on the bike. Just like yesterday, and just like the day before that.

You see, now that I am in the US collegiate system for cycling, I cannot simply be a specialist at any one discipline. The track cycling season is now long completed and come February, it will be all about road racing. 

Unfortunately, for me, this type of cycling isn’t what I was made for. My big powerful legs aren’t as useful over 100kms as they are over 500m. While my teammates and other competitors have had many more years to put the “miles in the legs”, I have only had the last couple of months to begin riding the long distances.

This makes the upcoming races more intimidating than ever and it’s why, every day on the bike is my lifeline. By February, it will be the miles I do now that will make the difference between finishing or quitting, between getting dropped or staying with the pack, or between crossing the finish line with arms raised in glory or just crossing it. 

Actually, that reminds me, I still haven’t perfected that skill just yet. It might be time to start practicing my glory pose for the cameras. Hunching over the bars sucking in air is for amateurs.

As I train, I feel like I am racing those races now. Every day, with every push and pull of the pedal. The hard work begins now, not at the start line. It should be motivation enough, and it is most of the time. Some days I will be aiming to get in two hours but stay out for three. Those are the days when you feel your legs could roll over forever. But then there are days when every extra minute I stay on the bike is a battle. I fight myself – my legs, my back, my arms, my mind – just to stay out for an hour. I start asking whether 55 mins counts as an hour. Does it? Am I cheating myself? Will it be the difference?

Right now, the cold weather is another deterrent. It had to come up at some point. If you were anything like I was, you would think that – as hot as it gets here in Texas (and it gets freakin’ hot!) – it could not possibly get cold, not this cold. It was only a month ago that we were rushing to Walmart to get last minute supplies in readiness for the imminent snow. No, it’s not possible to ride a bike on ice. That week, all training was taken indoors. The gym for weight training and the rollers (a treadmill for a bike) to keep the miles ticking over.

In between times, with no classes, we spent our time sliding around in the parking lot (on foot if you were wondering) or hanging out in the dorms. Snow days certainly have their perks, but we were tempting fate with a few close calls with concussions and broken wrists.
 

Another hurdle in my introduction to road cycling has been the boredom. Sometimes I think that my inability to keep my mind occupied for hours on end is even more of a reason than my unsuitable physiology to never become a road cyclist. The final minutes of a road race can be the most exciting moments in a cyclist’s life but while training, I have found the time spent in my own head has been unbelievably tough – especially on the rollers. Three hours on a bike is a long time with no company other than your thoughts. That’s where a team or a bunch of people to ride with comes in very handy, or when you’re on the rollers, a movie or two can be a saving distraction. Even so, there comes a point when no conversation, no interesting scenery, not even Mel Gibson’s behind is enough to distract from the saddle sore that is flaring up on your own behind with every minute in that same position over your handle bars. On those days, I long for the velodrome and for some short sprint efforts behind the motorbike. 

However, I do manage to get up and get on my bike. One day at a time. Just like all my teammates. Why? Because, while cycling can seem like a lonely sport, I have found a place in the world where I’m not just riding for myself. I have a team, and a college that is relying on me to put in the hours. Plus, riding 50kms, 80kms or 100kms is an accomplishment that is tangible. The reality is – it feels good.

As it approaches 10 degrees outside (better than the sub-freezing temperatures of this morning), it’s time for this blog entry to end. It’s time to go ride bikes.

Until next time, Merry Christmas to you all again and best wishes for the New Year.

Hotter N Hell: Cycling through a Texan Summer

College homework postcrastination means another blog entry... finally.

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This blog post has been a long time coming. So much has happenend in the last couple of weeks, it's hard to know where to start. It would've been easier if I had blogged again sooner, so the punishment is all mine.

Moving on - today, I'd like to focus on the cycling side of things. I mean it is why I'm here after all.

For those of you who've had enough cycling talk from me over the last nine months, I'll try and keep it interesting.
 

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 My first time on a bike in the US was at Thermal Thursdays, a local criterium competition. Starting in intermediate grade with the other women and the intermediate men, I got a crash course in cornering. It might've been a better idea to put the girl who'd never raced road into the beginners race but I didn't crash and even worked out how to use the SRAM components and reversed brakes (Oh!). Yep, they do it differently here.

My second time on a bike was a coffee ride. For me, that meant dealing with US traffic for the first time. Four way stop signs (first in, first served) and yields were all new. Oh, and don't forget being on the wrong side of the road. Who knew that my neck wasn't as flexible checking for traffic over my left shoulder in comparison to my right!

Once, I got used to all of this though, I started to realise what an amazing opportunity John Murray (the bestest Aussie coach) and I had stumbled on.

I want to tell you what it feels like to be on the MSU Cycling Team.

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Arriving in the US on this cycling scholarship, it was hard to know what to expect. Despite only having been cycling for such a short period of time, I decided there must be no excuses and in many ways that's how I've approached the first few weeks on the Midwestern State Cycling Team. Sure, when they ask me if I know "such and such" (an apparently very famous cyclist) I run to my "I just started cycling" excuse, but for the most part I try to approach it with a "why the hell not" type attitude. Cycling has been so good to me since I started, and I trust in that. 

There's a woman on the team here, Angela, who is also new to the team. Over my first couple of weeks we have become quite close. Whilst on the team's recent trip to Frisco, Texas to train on the velodrome, I tried my best to explain to her this feeling that had suddenly come over me as we drove through the outlying Dallas area.


It's an emotion that has seemed to creep up on me every now and then, and is the weirdest combination of disbelief, contentness and pride. Randomly, something will remind me of where I am and why I am here. I remember how lucky I am to have had this opportunity come out of seemingly nowhere. I sat in that car with my new US friends, sneaking a smile on my face.

This team means having people to go out on a ride with and grab coffee with, but it also means travelling across the US in a bus to train and compete. It means having people to rely on and it means being relied on to do your part. Such a responsibility has filled me with such an intense drive to achieve.

Will I get the best out of myself in the US? I can't see how I won't.

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 Another way to explain to you all this feeling is to describe another moment that happened not too long after the recent Hotter N Hell 100 race.

The biggest participation ride in the US, there's also men's and women's road races over the three days of competition. Most of you will've kept up with my results on facebook, but in case you missed it, I was proud to report a 2nd in the Pro Cat 4. women's 1ookm road race and a 1st in the same category for the Criterium the next day. Over the weekend, Angela and I were unexpectedly able to share over $100 in prize money. Not bad, thank you - although I'm sure the boys would laugh.

 
What I want to tell you about though was the finish line. Over the load-speaker, everytime I came through to win a Prime or eventually the overall race on the Sunday (the criterium), I was announced as Maddie Steele, from the local MSU team. The cheer from the Wichita Falls crowd always escalated.

It didn't matter to them where I was from - I was accepted as a local. University faculty who had come out to watch the weekend's racing came over to congratulate me. Even random members of the community came up to me too. It's a nice feeling to make people proud when you are an outsider. (Sneaking another smile but I guess I better keep winning!)

But I think the pinnacle of this feeling happened at Convocation, an assembly back at MSU for all the freshmen of 2013 (plus the new randoms like me). As hundreds of students were ushered through the door, a senior faculty member (and avid cyclist) came up to me after hearing of the weekend's results. He gave me the biggest, proudest hug ever.

It was pretty cool. Thanks Dr Farrell!

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Next on the agenda is the relatively short track season. This weekend is the conference championships back in Frisco, Texas. We then have one more chance to train at this track the following weekend before heading on a week-long trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado for the National Collegiate Track Championships.

Shout out to the kind family who will take us in for the three weekends in Frisco. What an amazing thing to do for a bunch of college kids!

I'm nervous about the next month, but again there can't be any excuses. I'm going to take this opportunity with both hands and do with it all I can. After all, now I not only have those back in Australia riding with me, but the community of Wichita Falls and MSU.

Wish me luck!

"That's just so American!"

Sitting in my dorm room, laptop in its rightful place on my lap and a bag of cherries from Walmart - it seems this blog is ready to be written. It may become like an insight into my non-existent diary, or a detailed collage of my thoughts and photos over the year - who knows? For now, I can only welcome you to the first post of my US* blog and then begin writing. So welcome!

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It always seems when living in a new country that the first couple of weeks are full of one particular moment: the "that is so..." moments. For example, when living in France, it wasn't long before I saw hunched old men balancing cigarettes between their lips as they played petanque. Then, my thoughts were immediately, "that is so French". In the UK, red buses and rolling green hills provided a similar exclamation. 

These moments occur at the precise point in time when a stereotype of a country suddenly appears before your eyes. They provide a short burst of glee, before (hopefully) you go on to appreciate the people and the culture of where you are in more depth. I hope in future posts to go beyond this superficial point of view, but for now let's have some fun.


Stereotype no. 1

Arriving in Dallas, it seemed that the tyres of the plane didn't even have to touch the ground before I uttered the phrase "that is so American" to the Queensland couple seated beside me. Sweeping around the airport was a tangle of raised concrete highways towering over the plains of the Midwest countryside. Right from the beginning, it appeared as though Texas was going to start fulfilling stereotype after stereotype.

Stereotype no. 2

Not too long after, and after passing immigration and the endless line at customs, I made it through the sliding doors to officially arrive in Texas. My new cycling coach, made himself known to me and we walked out into the intense heat.

I'm not sure if it truly counts as a stereotype because there are many places in the world where it gets hot - my hometown of Adelaide, for example. But, having anticipated this heat since making the decision to go to this part of the US, it certainly did fulfil some part of mental picture I had created of Texas in my mind. 

However, no amount of studying of The Weather Channel was ever going to prepare me for the intense heat of constantly close to 110F. It wasn't long before I was on a bike in this heat, thinking of the times I had avoided going out in the cold and decided to use the trainer instead.

Texas is hot. Hotter than Adelaide - even during that awful heatwave of 2008.


Stereotype no.3

After loading my oversized bike box into the cycling van, coach and I were in for the two hour drive north-west to the not so little town of Wichita Falls. It wasn't long before I was on one of those weaving highways I mentioned and encountering stereotype number three.

I'm not sure whether I am surprised by this or not, but an insanely high proportion of Texans drive pick-ups (oversized utes).

While I would like to believe, every pick-up driver here needs their oversized vehicle, I think this phenomenon is more closely comparable to the Australian upper-middle-class-stay-at-home mums who drive their children to school in BMW four-wheel drives.

Stereotype no.4


Back to the stereotypes and away from unrelated rants, and while still on the drive to Wichita Falls, I saw ranches with white fences and red, arched-roof barns. I don't think it's necessary to elaborate any further on that.


Stereotype no.5

The next stereotype has kind of crept up on me since arriving. I noticed it on the drive in to Wichita Falls, I was aware of it over the next few days driving around town, but it wasn't until I walked to the shops in the heat that it really smacked me in the face.

It is perhaps one of the biggest stereotypes of America in general.

FAST FOOD IS EVERYWHERE!!

To illustrate my point for those back home, I will compare Australia and America by using the analogy of a recurring decimal and pi.

In Australia, we have a few different fast food outlets that repeat, generally in clusters, every few kilometres depending on your location. McDonalds, Hungry Jacks, KFC, McDonalds, Hungry Jacks, KFC.

Here in Wichita Falls, a town of 100,000 people, there a hundreds of different fast food restaurants of every type you can imagine (I have only seen 1.5 McDonalds) lined up one after the other on endless strips of junk food.

But, I believe the reason it stood out to me so much on that hot walk to the shops is that while these fast food restaurants are all right next to each other, they also seem so far apart. Many are stand along buildings with their own carpark, a drive through and of course the mandatory towering sign that tries to be taller and brighter than the next.

With all that said, I do hope (while still strictly maintain a healthy diet???) to try at least a few of the delicacies they offer. I believe it would be a crime not too. Right?


Stereotype no.6

The final stereotype I have for you today is all about Texas. If you had to create a mental image of a typical Texan in your head, what would they look like?

A rodeo clown? A red-neck? If you thought like I did, there would at least have been an element of a cowboy in that picture. 

Of all the stereotypes, this is perhaps the one that you hope desperately that you will see but that you don't really believe you will. To my disbelief, it took less than 48hrs to spy my first cowboy-dressed young man. 

On my second night, the loveliest of my new team-mates took me out to perhaps Wichita Falls' favourite bar, Denim and Diamonds. For the women, cowboy boots don't form part of a costume, they are a fashion statement. Meanwhile, the men recognise their roots with checked shirts and cowboy hats.

Truthfully, not every girl was in boots, and only a few guys braved the famous hats, but I did notice all of this from the middle of a line-dancing line, still puffing from just having done a two-step.

It was an amazing night, one that I hope gets repeated. But, I don't think I will ever be able to recreate that moment of shock when I spied my first cowboy hat across the dance floor.

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That seems enough for now. Next post, I hope to update you a little more on my new life as a US College cyclist. With all the residents moving into my dorm over the weekend and next week, I have been assured I am about to be baptized into the culture of the US college dorms.

Excuse me, while I go and help decorate level 3 of McCullough-Trigg Hall in a sailor theme.





*If you are confused as to why I'm writing about Texas, US College and cycling please refer to the "a little context..." section to the right.