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Life as a Bike Jockey: Do the needful, but keep the focus

So….I got a call from my fella, Tom, on Friday while I was driving to a race in Snowmass, Colorado.

On a five hour drive filled with highway logjams and a couple of stops for oil and antifreeze checks, “Yay!” was the answer to the ringing phone.

“Are you “Yaying” because you made the Worlds team?” he asked.

“No. I’m “yaying” because it’s you. I haven’t heard if I’ve made the team or not.”

“Oh. Well, I’m telling you, you made the Worlds team.

At least the race went
better than than the drive.

…which is when responses went from cheery “yays,” to glass shattering, “YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHs!”

I’m headed to Champery, Switzerland to race the World Championships on September 3rd.

I’m psyched beyond words. It’s been a crazy year getting to this point and I’m so happy I made the team. I really can’t wait to go back to the World Championships.

But, wait I must. I’m currently in Vail, Colorado right now dealing with some car issues.

My trip home from Saturday’s race has shown that the car needs a little more than antifreeze. And by little, I mean to say, you really don’t want to know.

I bought this used car in May just after my last car went to that great big junkyard in the sky as I was moving boxes from my place in Boulder to live with my mom in Brighton, Colorado. The plan to save some cash for racing didn’t factor in the car-going-kaput variable.

So…I’ve got some stuff to do for sure. Make it home, buy a ticket to the land of cows and chocolate, head to a job interview in Denver, keep the training up. Do the needful, but keep the focus….

Maybe Pavel, the mechanic I saw this morning, summed the situation up to its essence. After he gave me the range of diagnoses from the grim to really grim with the accompanying courses of action, he asked why I had all the bike stuff in the back of my Subaru. I explained I raced bikes and that this car situation comes after learning I made the Worlds Team…and that tickets to Switzerland aren’t cheap.

After a short pause staring at the hood, he extended his hand to shake mine in congratulations and, with his Bulgarian accent, he gave another option.

“F@#k the car. Chase your dreams.”

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