Ah, November… by Bike Ambassador Ben Boncella

Ah, November… When you can’t even finish your first cup of coffee before the sun starts setting and it starts getting dark. The extra pounds from too much Halloween candy are still lingering, yet the Holidays (and the countless number of Holiday parties) are right around the corner. We can only dream of those perfect riding days as we layer up before heading out the door now.

I’ve started to really embrace the fall/early winter this year. It’s proven to be my favorite time of year to ride gravel/offroad. There’s something special about riding among the colorful fall foliage and even the barren trees that follow shortly thereafter. And it turns out that leftover Reese pumpkins are an excellent form of on-the-bike calories.

It’s also a great time of year to spend less time on the bike and more time pursuing other activities and interests. You can bust out those running shoes and lace up. Or get your skis prep’d for the upcoming season. Maybe you take your dog out for some longer walks. Or spend more time helping your kids with their school work or projects. Maybe you finally get a chance to read a few of the books on your list. Or start decorating and baking for the holidays.

Whatever you get up to this time of year, enjoy it! I know that for many of us, cycling and endurance sports are a massive part of our life. Enjoy the moments, however fleeting they are now, to pursue some quality training, but also embrace the downtime. Spring and summer will be here before we know it.

Until then, I’ll be using the extra pockets of my jacket for stashing various combinations of chocolate and peanut butter candy :)

Simone Biles, Naomi Osaka, all of us…by Bike Ambassador Juliet Byerly

All of us have something in common.  Millions of Americans experience this, yet somehow, such a deep stigma exists as a culture, we generally avoid talking about it.  On May 31st, Naomi Osaka withdrew from the French Open revealing she had been experiencing “bouts of depression.”  Then this summer, at the Tokyo Olympics, Simone Biles withdrew from the Vault and Uneven Bars finals to focus on her mental health.  

They had the world’s spotlight shining on them. 

They had trained for years for this moment.

Millions of fans waited to watch them compete and see them hoist a trophy or a gold medal once again.

Instead, they used that spotlight to say something few world-famous athletes have ever dared to say out loud: I need to step away from this competition and focus on my mental health. Yes, all of us struggle with mental health issues but most of us are afraid to say it out loud.

2020 was a really bad year for most of us regarding mental health.  2021 isn’t shaping up to be that much better.  So, what happens when the thing I’ve always used to “focus on my mental health” - riding bikes - is the last thing I want to do right now?  I’m going to use this space to go ahead and unpack this for a minute.  

I got my first road bike in 1979.  It was a Huffy Contestant and it was way too big for me.  I didn’t care and I made it work.  I didn’t exactly have the most mentally stable home when I was a child.  As a matter of fact, it was dysfunctional.  There was a lot of love, but you probably could open the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) on a random page and you could find something that would apply to any member of my family.    I quickly learned I could use my bike to escape.  So, escape I did. I rode that thing everywhere in Los Angeles where I was born and raised.  That continued when I moved to Boulder, Colorado for college.  Ever since then, bikes have been an important part of my life – mostly casually for transportation, but also to escape a bad marriage, bad jobs, breakups, you name it.  So then in 2020, the coronavirus pandemic struck and our world was turned upside down.  Naturally, a whole heck of a lot of us got out there on our bikes.  So did I.  As a matter of fact, after my cat died, then I weathered a devastating breakup, and some other awful things happened to me during the lock down, I decided enough is enough and it was time for me to make my mental health my number one priority.  So, I went to my job as paralegal at a fancy Cherry Creek law firm, walked straight into my boss’s office and quit my job.  Focusing on my mental health was going to be my new job. I rode my bike every weekday for 2 months.  As a result, I had never felt better in my life.  I started a new job that I absolutely love that literally fell into my lap in December 2020, but since sometime in September of this year, I just stopped riding my bike.  I just couldn’t do it and I was beating myself up because of it. Why??? What was going on with me?

I can think of a million reasons that I could discuss here ad nausem and none of them really matter.  For a while, I felt guilty about every single one of them.  I felt guilty about neglecting my bikes, not getting all the miles in, FOMO, missed my riding partner/ex boyfriend, et cetera, et cetera.  Here’s where I landed:  I needed to give myself a break.  It’s not a competition!  My bikes got me through the really difficult times, and they will be there for me again when I’m ready.  Mental health is such a mysterious and fragile thing and I’m finally figuring out how to observe and honor it.  For now, I’m taking a break from riding AND IT’S PERFECTLY OK.  I feel much better after I gave myself permission to not worry about it.  I know that one day soon, I’m going to look over at Stella and Sidra (my bikes) and say “let’s go” and it’s going to feel amazing.

Most of us can’t just quit our jobs to ride bikes or do whatever it is that makes us happy.  I was fortunate to be able to do that.  The point is that we have got to listen to ourselves and normalize taking care of our mental health and talking about it.  Whatever that means for each of us as individuals, do whatever it takes to make it happen.  Set up your life to accommodate that, and if you don’t know how, ask for help. If you don’t know where to start, hit me up.  I would be happy to get you started. Until then, enjoy the ride 😊

How to Feel Like a Kid Again by Bike Ambassador Andrew Phillips

This is a picture of my Grandma Bryant when she was about 14 or 15 years old in 1950.  She had just bought this used bike with her own money and was pretty proud of it.  As the oldest of six growing up in a small farmhouse just outside of Salt Lake City, this bike (like all of our first bikes) meant so much more than just a quick way to get to the school house – it meant freedom.

I can imagine her riding it down the dusty roads to explore creek beds or to visit friends.  Or maybe she rode it just to feel the wind in her hair and to laugh out loud as she whistled some new tune.  She loves whistling still – so it wouldn’t surprise me at all.  I guess it’s easy to imagine what it must have been like for her, because I so vividly remember getting my first bike that belonged only to me (I’m the 2nd of 5) when I was about her age.

When I was 15, we lived about 20 miles from my Grandma Bryant in the panhandle of Northern Idaho along the Pend Orielle River.  It was an absolutely beautiful place that just begged to be explored.  One lazy summer day I convinced my best friend Nick Guenther to ride the 20 miles with me to Grandma’s house and promised she would have something good for us to eat.  The Pend Orielle River is famous among bike packers and we would often see them riding by in the summer.  As we set out, I didn’t think it would take too long to get to Grandma’s given that I had ridden to town about 7 miles away a bunch of times and it never seemed that hard.  As I think back on it, I know it was a mere 20 miles – but holy cow that day seemed endless.  I felt like I could have, and in fact did, ride forever. 

We eventually made it to Grandma’s, had some cookies, went swimming in her creek and fished for trout until the late afternoon until we figured we ought to get back on our bikes and start heading back.  It was an incredible day with Nick and though I’ve lost touch with him over the years, I’m certain he would remember that adventure fondly.  This was all before the days of cell phones, so we were completely on our own.  As I look back on it, I can’t believe our parents let us head out so ill prepared.  It didn’t matter though that we didn’t have a spare tube or nickel between the two of us, we were going to just go and have a great time.  We had no mishaps and pedaled along slowly, stopping whenever we needed to get a drink from some creek or another.  Seriously, I can’t believe I survived my childhood!

I’ve had so many incredible adventures (both big and small) on my bike since then and am so grateful that I learned early in my life what an incredible feeling of satisfaction can come from riding your bike.  I guess that’s one of the reasons I keep riding, I love the adventure so much.  I love seeing, smelling and hearing new places the way you never could if you’re in a car.  I hope you can remember some adventure you had on your bike when you were a kid and know that those same feelings are just a few pedal strokes away even when you’re an adult.   

Bikes, Burnout, and DOGS by Bike Ambassador Chris Welch

What a weird year, or has it been two? I know a lot of people have done two things to avoid burnout in 2020-2021: buy a bike and adopt a puppy. As someone who was saved by a stray dog, I thought my story might be important for everyone right now. But first, a little background on me.

My name is Chris and when I am not riding a bike, you can find me defending the public at the Colorado Springs Public Defender Office. I also teach yoga, rescue farm animals as a board member of Iowa Farm Sanctuary, and enjoy spending as much time as possible outdoors. My life is fairly busy and I squeeze a whole lot into very small periods of time. So where do bikes and dogs fit into my busy life? Well it all began on a warm day in August, four short years ago. 

On August 8, 2017, I planned on meeting Crystal and Nick Kovacs for a short bike ride. In 2017, I had an unexpected spinal surgery due to a bike crash and I had just been cleared by my spine surgeon to resume my regular life. I was ecstatic to get back on a bike! We planned to meet on the Heritage Trail in Farley, Iowa. We also planned to follow up our get together with some vegan pizza at Junction 21. On August 8, 2017 my plans changed instantly when a stray dog came wandering out of the woods. The dog was alone, covered in ticks, and full of wounds. He panted so hard for those first few days that I worried about his heart. We called the local police chief to see what we should do. When she arrived, she asked if I could take the dog in for a short time while we searched for his home.

I drove him home and realized that I had nothing for a dog. Luckily, our bike friends Hannah Krieger Ney and Scout (@sheepdogscout), drove here in the middle of the night to help me. They brought a crate, some food, and some puppy supplies. They stayed for a few days to make sure we were okay! The next morning, we got the dog to the vet. The vet turned his wounds into scars, cleaned him up, and he was given medicine for his ailments. The dog began to heal. The next day I got a big crate from my co-worker and the friend who introduced me to ultra-cycling, Tom.  With the crate, I could finally leave the stray alone, and he finally got to sleep in my room! 

Over the next few weeks, we hunted for the dog’s home. We made calls, we posted to social media, we swung by the Humane Society, we exhausted all of our resources trying to find the story where this dog came from. Meanwhile, we went on walks and we began to bond. The dog came to trust me, and met my parents Nan and Jerry. A few weeks went by without us hearing anything and we realized this dog must have been a stray. So one morning after one of our many walks, I took the dog out to the backyard and told him that I wanted him to stay with me forever. We used the Internet and collectively named the dog “Farley.” He was not a stray anymore. He found his home. 

I knew it wouldn’t be easy to introduce a stray dog into my life. I knew I would have to sacrifice some of the bachelor lifestyle that I’ve enjoyed for so long. I knew that I would have to sacrifice some of the long races I had done in the past, as I could not just leave a dog for multi-day events. I knew that we needed each other though. I knew he would bring me love.

As the years have past, I have slowly introduced Farley to cycling. He loves to mountain bike so we try and find trails that are off-leash dog-friendly. He also loves to run in the snow with me while I fat bike, even doing a loop of the Leadville Colorado Fat Bike trails in 2021. I am careful about the temperatures and make sure to bring him lots of water for hydration. I also do not take him on popular trails or places where it would not be appropriate to bike with a dog on or off leash. A lot more preparation goes into even short rides, but it is totally worth it. 

In the last two years, we have been faced with incredible stress. I would be lying if I said that there have not been times were I have been faced with immense feelings of burnout. What has saved me is bikes and a stray dog named Farley. What has saved me is remembering the joy of cycling. The joy for me is found when I see how much fun Farley is having next to me when we ride. The joy is contagious. We do not have to go far, we just have to get out there. If you are feeling low in these incredibly difficult times, what if you tried something simple like just riding your bike? Maybe with a friend? Maybe without your devices? Maybe without keeping track of speed or distance? Who knows, maybe you too will stumble upon a stray dog that will change your life! 

 Ride on, 

• Christopher Welch, @thegraveldefender and Farley, @goodboyfarley. 

Time on a Bike, with Friends, Raising Money for Causes by Bike Ambassador Mel Levin

 In last year’s blog, I wrote of how the pandemic isolation and subsequent cancellation of events allowed me to find joy in simply riding a bike, rather than “training.”

This year, I’m happy to say that event riding is B A C K, and I love to do events that are fundraisers for illnesses/institutions I care about. I’ve already done the MS ride, just last weekend, and last year’s lessons were applied to my choice to ride the shorter (34 mile) ride rather than the longer (78 mile) ride because of thunderstorms expected to be in the area before my projected finish time.

The older I get, the more important it is to listen to my body, to give it recovery when needed, and to avoid dangerous conditions like riding in a thunderstorm! Less visibility to automobile drivers! Slicker roads! In years past, I’d have felt compelled to ride the ride I signed up for, but last year’s reminder of the joy in riding a bike, allowed me to step back, to nurse my sore foot (sore from a recent distance trail run), and to ride with my OUTspokin’ teammates. All of them had either initially chosen the shorter ride or stepped down from the 78 to the 34, following my lead of “safety first.” The day couldn’t have been more perfect, and I later learned from a friend of the 20-minute downpour and wet last ten miles. A good decision, a safe decision, had been made. Additionally, I was able to ride a strong pace I was proud of...a strong 34-miler was better than a crappy 78 on that particular day.

On the upcoming Courage Classic, held out of Copper Mountain, I am the team captain for RadioActive, a team of Pediatric Radiology docs and friends/colleagues. The ride has always been a two-day event benefitting Children’s Hospital Colorado, canceled last year due to COVID and shortened to one day only for 2021. I aim to ride the 78-miler over three mountain passes and a mountain that day (the same route as the famed Copper Triangle). I also aim to change my plan if weather is bad, to be an inspiring team captain for my friends and colleagues, and to enjoy the day, whatever happens.

Time on a bike, with friends, raising money for causes I care about, that’s where you’ll find me as long as I’m fit and able.