Competition isn’t for everyone, I know. I often ask myself: Are we born competitive or is it a learned trait? Through my teens and early 20s, my idea of “getting my sweat on” was dancing at ska shows. Working out was a form of punishment for eating brownie and ice cream every night. That was until I found cycling. I had to borrow a mountain bike my cousin had outgrown. After enough time spent slogging uphill on the hunk of aluminum, I finally convinced myself buy a road bike.
As I donned cut-off sleeve shirts, I couldn’t help but notice groups of women all matching. I wanted to be part of something like that. I was drawn to the teams and their matching kits and being part of something bigger than my Rocky Horror Picture Show shirt flapping in the wind.
I originally joined pedal RACING’s club because I wanted women to ride with on the weekends. I was never planning on racing. As I sat around the table at the Egg & I, listening to the women share racing stories, I was intrigued, but also scared to take on an endeavor like that. I didn’t think I had the time to train or that I’d be any good if I tried. I assumed you had to be a professional with loads of time and loads of money to race your bike. I hear this from others today. I’m also told that “racing would take the fun out of cycling,” as if competition can’t be fun or you can’t be intrinsically motivated as a bike racer.
