I’m a wanna-be racer

This is my second year cycling. I began last year when I realized there was a giant hole in my heart after retiring from professional boxing.  I needed a sport to fill this void.  Jason Gerhart suggested cycling and Chuck and Sue Peterson pushed me into it.  I’ve never looked back.

 

Last year I hit the sport head on–no holding back.  I gave it all I had and got better as the summer went on.  I rode through winter and this year I’m even stronger.  I’m riding with all men’s groups, taking my turn leading the pace line and barreling to the top of every hill.  I’m pushing myself hard, trashing my legs and blowing up my lungs.  I plan to be unstoppable by the end of this summer.

 

So, what’s my point?  We have this pro racing team here in Boise called, “Exergy.”  There is a women’s team and men’s team.  I began following the teams a few months ago and now I’ve become obsessed!  I can’t seem to get enough of them!  I know who they are, where they’re racing, what they’re wearing, etc…  I even went so far as to buy last year’s racing kit from a racer so I, too, could wear their gear.  I’m even having dreams about being on the team.

 

(Stop laughing, I’m pouring my guts out here) 

 

It would appear that I’m a typical wanna-be.  I’m a good cyclist.  But you should see these guys and girls.  They’re incredible!  I take nothing away from them and I admire them and their commitment to their sport.  I can handle being a proud fan and secretly wishing I was one of them.  But I’m more interested in the deeper issue:  Why have I become so obsessed?  Even if I was given a shot to try out for this team, you have no idea what these guys go through.  I’ve been a professional athlete, I know.  It takes extreme dedication, drive, will, and iron guts to make it to the finish line, let alone the podium.  I’m happy riding with my friends and riding hard with these tough men’s groups.  I don’t want to give up my relationship, work hours or family time.  So why can’t I just accept that and move on?  I know as an athlete in the lime light, fans only see a glimpse of you.  They only see you on race day or fight night.  They don’t see the athlete during the thousands of hours spent training, traveling, arguing with your spouse because you’re gone all the time.  In this case, I’m only seeing a small part of this sport:  the glitz, the glam, the matching outfits, fancy bikes, camera flashes, cheers, and trophies.  What it takes to get to that point makes me nauseous to even think about.  

 

I think Code Red needs to step back, breath, and enjoy my time riding.  Once I get more time in the saddle, maybe I’ll call up one of these professional female cyclist and ask to ride with her…just to see if I can.  

 

For now, I’m a wanna-be racer.

I turned 36 today

I turned 36 today.

 

As I lay here in bed, I’m desperately searching my mind and heart for what I should be feeling now that I’m a year older.  It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Although 36 isn’t really a milestone age, I feel much different on this birthday than my others.

 

20 years ago:  16 years old.  Sophomore in high school.  Head over heels for Brett McHaffie.  He was much older than me but he went to church so that made it “okay” to my parents.  He was wonderful, kind, loving and very funny.  We got along well.  We “went out” for a few years.  I had these huge boobs that year.  My Lord.  I had to wear 2 sports bras when I played basketball.  I became keenly aware of why the boys liked me; it certainly wasn’t because I was a cop’s kid.  Or a pastor’s kid.  My sister, Cari (2 years older) was my best friend and I looked up to her for so many things.  She showed me how to be confident.  

 

10 years ago:  26 years old.  Living in Memphis.  Married to Jason Nickel.  Jason is a good man but I had no business being married at all.  We tried our best but what did we know about life?  I wanted to be a professional athlete and was pursuing my degree in Exercise Physiology.  Jason wanted to have a baby and didn’t like where my heart was heading.  Our marriage dissolved in a few short years.  I moved away.

 

Between 26 and 36, my life took extremely dramatic turns.  I can’t even begin to tell you what I went through.  Relationships, professional boxing career, traveling, jobs, body changes, you name it!  The only thing that was consistent in my life was CHANGE.  I had lots of exciting changes and lots of successes.  Many disappointments and many failures.  

 

So, here I am.  Pillows propped up behind my back, the glow of the laptop on my face, my body tired from a full day of work.  I ask myself, “How does the 36 year old Cristy feel?”  Content.  Happy.  Fulfilled.  I look down at my arms and shoulders and see some sun damage.  But my beautiful muscles are full and crisp because I’ve been training them for 17 years.  I lean close to the mirror and notice that my face doesn’t look 25 years old anymore.  But that’s okay because my client said to me, “What I like about you, Cristy, is you look like you’ve been through life and gone through stuff.  You understand people.”  Is she saying I look beat up?  No.  I think she’s saying that I look experienced and that I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck yesterday.  And I’m okay with that. 

 

This right here, right now is the best I’ve ever felt in my life.  I’m loved and appreciated.  I’m in terrific shape, competing in a sport I love.  My career is booming with fantastic clients.  If this is what 36 feels like then I’ll take it!  But I have a feeling each year from here on out will be better than the last.  

 

And if not, there’s always Botox.