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.