After 5 years of not riding Iceman, I decided to get back in the game last year. But in the last few weeks leading up to race day, the indecision and obstacles started to build. And I started to wonder, should I race at all? Was I too far gone from that “old Kandy” – the girl I used to be?
The doubt started when I took my bike into Brick Wheels for some basic upkeep – and got the news that I was seconds from “catastrophic fail.” That’s a biggie, even for me. My back rim was cracked.
But they would put a rush on this part! They gave me a loaner bike! They consoled me, there in the dim light of October! They took away every obstacle…including a good DNF story in hindsight.
Next, I went to the SkyBridge with the family.
There, a woman hacked on me, and I watched with laser precision as my face, chest and head became clogged over the next week… as I rode that gorgeous rental that Brick Wheels had loaned me.
Between the two setbacks, I started wondering if this was a sign I should sit this one out. First my bike, now my body. Not to mention, had I really trained enough? It was never enough.
A tiny part of me also started to think, I am an excellent cheerleader.
By that Monday before Iceman, I was choosing my cheering spots – and getting antibiotics.
By Tuesday, I got my bike back. But the cheer around Brick Wheels did not match the cheer in my heart. The setbacks had put the brakes on my goals – and I doubted I should ride at all.
By Wednesday, the meds were kicking in… and I felt a little better. My tiny little Iceman heart started to wonder if I should at least go ride the finish… just to see it again.
By Thursday, I was riding the winding, twisting finish – and picking out the spots I might take a digger on if I wasn’t careful.
Then – out of nowhere – I got weepy.
Not because I might not race (some part of me was relieved I might not be racing at all), but because I was at Iceman again.
In that fencing, behind those gates, among that buzz in the air – after 5 years of not racing.
5 years! 5! F-i-v-e!
I thought of how much I’d gone through in those years, which had been a personal hell… but that’s where the happy tears were coming from.
Because I was there at all.
Because I saw that I was still me. I was still biker chick, sick and all. I was still here. And, I had spent a precious, gorgeous fall out in the woods – with the leaves below me and the sky above.
I don’t know if I have ever felt so thankful for my bike as I did in that moment.
Because I realized I had found my way back to my bike, despite all that had happened – the girl who took crap was gone, the girl who stood up for herself was in the chute, and the girl who loved to bike? She was back in the saddle, complete with a sparkly pink skirt over her spandex.
I knew then that I would race. Even if I had to limp it in (which I did – at one point in Iceman, I realized a LOT of people were checking me as they passed me by – “ARE YOU OK, MICHIGAN GIRL????”)
I knew I wanted to see this comeback Iceman through, regardless
Kandace Chapple is a writer and wrangles Michigan Girl, a women’s membership group that gathers to hike, bike and otherwise get out under that Michigan sky every other week. She can be reached at kandace@michgirl.com. Join her Facebook group for women at Michigan Girl Bike (& Hike!) Group.