Riding bikes has become a passion of mine over the last four years, a journey that’s helped me shed 150 pounds and gain a whole new perspective on life. It’s been an incredible ride (pun intended), and I’m always grateful for the encouragement I receive from people who’ve followed my weight loss story. It feels amazing, but as much as I appreciate the kudos for my transformation, that’s not my proudest achievement on two wheels.
Sure, setting personal records on Strava and earning the title of “local legend” are nice perks. (Hi, my name is Casey, and I’m a Strava star 😆). But what truly fuels my passion for biking is something far more meaningful: bringing people together through the sport, especially my family.
Take my nephew, for example. Last year, he watched me complete a race in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and, inspired, decided he wanted to try it himself when he visited from Florida this July. Being the awesome uncle that I am, I immediately hit the gear store and sent him a box full of mountain biking swag, hoping it would motivate him to train.
And it worked! He started riding a little at a time, upgrading his bike, and even braving the Florida heat. Before I knew it, I was getting regular updates about his rides—sometimes just 6 to 10 miles at a time, but progress nonetheless. When race day finally arrived, we were both buzzing with pre-race jitters. For him, the challenge was the physical and mental endurance; for me, it was making sure his nutrition was dialed in and our gear was ready to go.
Of course, nothing ever goes perfectly. My GPS decided to take a vacation just as the race started, leaving us standing there like rookies while everyone else sped off. After about 10 minutes of troubleshooting (and a lifeline call to my infamous buddy Doug), we finally got things sorted out. I looked at my nephew, gave him a quick pep talk about adapting and overcoming, and off we went.
I was blown away by how well he was riding. When I asked if he just wanted to cruise or if we should try to catch up to the pack, he chose the latter. So, I gave him a crash course in drafting—ride my rear tire, no room for ego, and communicate if you’re gassed. Slowly but surely, we started picking off riders, one by one. With each rider we passed, his confidence grew.
Now, he did hit a few bumps along the way—like learning the hard way what pickle juice can do for your body (spoiler: he hates pickles). But after 8 miles of sand and a grand total of 54 miles (his longest ride ever by over 30 miles), we crossed the finish line. The look of confidence on his face was priceless—a reminder of why I love this sport so much.
When you’re out there racing, you go through a rollercoaster of emotions, especially when you’re breaking new boundaries. We ended up finishing 33rd and 34th out of 127 riders, and get this—he beat me by one second.
Here’s the thing: I’m definitely not the fastest rider out there, but if I can inspire someone to push themselves, to become a better version of themselves, then I’ll keep riding and encouraging others to do the same.
The moral of the story? Even when life gets tough, you never know who might be watching, learning, and looking up to you. Make sure you make a difference and help those around you. I’m grateful for that day out in the woods with my nephew. The best part? Watching him cross the finish line first… even if it was just by one second.
Thank you to our 2024 Iceman Ambassador Casey Smith @casey_theautoguy