Dear Megan,

Congratulations on your super win today. You’ve had a fantastic start to the 2012 season with strong finishes in Europe and, now, first place on the first stage of what many consider the true kick-off to the US season.

It’s strange not to be there and tell you this in person since I haven’t missed Redlands in oh about a gazillion years, but I’m cheering for you just as loudly from home as I would be if I were besides you on the bike.

Toscana wasn’t an easy Tour to win, but you did. I’m confident you know what it takes. You have a strong team around you. Your teammates give you so many cards to play. If you race like a single unit, support one another, keep your teammates motivated and remain comfortable asking for help, the team will come through for you – and you will go home with the yellow jersey on your back.

Since I started racing Redlands before you took off your training wheels, I thought maybe I could share a few thoughts with you about the three stages that stand between you and yellow.

Beaumont, aka Blowmont (because it’s always windy), will be a stage where the other teams will try, try and try again to get a break up the road. It never happens. Tomorrow will likely come down to a field sprint. Because of this, I would normally tell you not to worry about the break, but with so many time bonuses up for grabs, any break is a real concern. A break will gobble up the time bonuses if you let them. Make sure the riders up the road are ones you’re willing to allow to walk away with seconds.

Beaumont is followed by the City of Redlands Criterium. This just might be one of the fastest and most technical crits you’ll race this year. This stage serves up plenty of corners, time bonuses and attacks. Be aware of who goes up the road – time bonuses given to the wrong person spell trouble. Be aware of your positioning – this stage often starts full gas. Be aware of the bump in the road in the second to last corner — just ask Kori Seehafer about that one. Actually, Megan, just be aware.

Sunset starts in the “neutral section”. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I would venture to guess the “neutral section” of Sunset sees more crashes than any other place in the race as everyone is fighting for the bumper of the comm car. I told you to be aware of your position in the crit – position is even more critical on Sunset. It’s a technical and fast lead in to the climb. Use your Euro bumping skills and sharp elbows to stay on the right wheel. Each lap will reduce the size of the front group until only a small, select group is left to arrive together at the finish. The stage winner will obviously come from this group. The overall winner will as well.

Be calm.

Be confident.

B R E A T H E

Love,

Mer

Hello, first time visitors, faithful followers (Hi, Mom!) and everyone in between. Welcome to my new website. We’ve launched as I prepare for a fast-approaching road season — my fourteenth! — and I wanted to take a few minutes to explain how things are going to work around here in the 2012 season.

Quick note on the photo first: I captured this image in Hawaii of a koru — or a fern in the process of unfurling. I first learned about the koru while living in New Zealand. The Maori consider it a symbol of new beginnings, new life and perpetual growth. I came to closely identify with this symbol — even incorporating a koru into the tattoo on my upper back. The sentiment behind the koru perfectly aligns with the intention behind my new site, season and story — so  let me tell you about all three.

New website. It’s a fresh new look — and along with the updated design and current content, you’ll find more frequent updates including weekly blogs, a race report for every race, and more media links, photos and videos. I’ll do my best to keep my race calendar current, so you know where we might cross paths throughout the season.

New season. I’m back with Team TIBCO for a fourth year — my third as road captain. I’m excited to be back with the team. We had camp in Santa Barbara earlier this month, and I can tell it’s going to be a big year for the squad. As one of the most seasoned riders on Team TIBCO, I enjoy mentoring the younger riders and taking an active leadership role on the road. I’m excited about helping my teammates win races and taking advantage of any personal opportunities that I can create.

New story. I haven’t had a true break between my cyclocross and road seasons (or road and cyclocross seasons) since I started racing ‘cross in 2008. My mental and physical fatigue throughout this past season was undeniable. I wanted to start the road season feeling strong, fresh and motivated — and I want to come out swingin’ in the ‘cross season later in the year. With these goals in mind, I had some serious discussions with both Team TIBCO and Cal Giant/Specialized. We made some big changes to how I’ll approach this year. I’m hopeful these big changes translate to big pay-offs for me in both disciplines.

I have taken on a significantly smaller road schedule than I’ve ever raced. Given what the last several years of road racing have looked like for me, I could almost say that I’m racing part-time. My first race with Team TIBCO will be Charlotte in mid-April. Normally, my first race of the season is in early March — I’ll race Merced or San Dimas before Redlands. This is the first time in as long as I can remember that I’m missing out on what I’ve come to consider the season start at Redlands. The later start to my season gives me more time off the bike between my two disciplines — and then more time on the bike building back my base with longer training rides before I jump straight back into racing.

I’ll fill in the gaps in my road schedule with some mountain bike racing for Cal Giant. I don’t have a set schedule yet although I hope to include something like Leadville or Breck Epic. I sincerely love mountain biking, and I’ve never had a chance to do enough of it. Each year, when July or August rolls around, I’m always bummed that it’s taken me so long to become reacquainted with my mountain bike. This new plan gives me the opportunity to dabble in the dirt long before the end of the summer. I’m also counting on more time on the mountain bike to improve my technical skills — the lack thereof remains one my biggest challenges in ‘cross.

This year is an extra-important one as it represents a build-up to Cyclocross Worlds in Louisville, KY next January. I’m determined to give myself the best possible chance to be competitive at Worlds on home soil. I appreciate Team TIBCO and Cal Giant affording me this somewhat non-traditional approach to my season. While there are a lot of new things going on around here, there’s one thing that hasn’t changed — and that’s the gratitude I feel for your support.

(photo by Graham Watson)

Today I am watching the surf break along the beach in Santa Barbara, CA. It’s calm and serene. The white sand is smooth and glistening as the water does its little dance on top of it. Two weeks ago the sand I experienced was quite different. Two weeks ago I was trying to pedal my bike through sand that was ankle deep and sometimes deeper. Two weeks ago I was racing as part of the US National Team at the Cyclocross World Championships in Koksijde, Belgium.

There is no other course in the world quite like the one in Koksijde. Week in and week out I race in mud, dust, snow, ice, and sand but only once have I ever raced in sand that wants to consume me.

I had watched enough video coverage and talked to enough people who’d been on the course before to know that this course was ‘special’. It takes a certain kind of skill to be able to pedal your bike through the sand – you have to float across it. You have to let your bike go where it wants to go and trust that it will take you where you want to go. And at the exact moment when you start to lose speed, you have to dismount, run while pushing or shouldering your bike, remount and get back up to speed all in one fluid motion. If you try to take one pedal stroke too many, your bike abruptly stops and you lose precious time as you clumsily dismount and start running. Your timing has to be precise. Once you’re out of the sand, you ride to the next dune and do it all over again and again and again.

When you think you’ve finally got the right line dialed, the person in front of you puts a foot down and you lose your momentum, dismount and start running…and so on for each person behind you. The game isn’t always orchestrated by you but by the people around you. Keeping your head up is key to knowing what lies ahead.

Sometimes the course goes up, sometimes it goes down. Riding down a steep, deep section of sand requires no less confidence and skill than it does on the flat sections. If your wheel digs just a little too deep or turns the slightest bit, you end up eating a face full of sand after you embarrassingly flip right over your handlebars. The crowd loves it (all 60,000 of them!), of course, but all the bits and pieces of your bike that are now packed with sand are less functional and your confidence wanes. Next time you get to that section, you might opt to run right away instead of repeating said humiliating acrobatics.

The Belgians make riding in the sand look effortless. They ride with precision and confidence. They are ‘sand specialists’. It’s no surprise they went 1-7 in the men’s elite race. I, on the other hand, did less riding and more running because I don’t have the precision and confidence yet to ride my bike in deep sand.

Some of the courses here in the US incorporate sand pits, but they are typically no longer than a sand volleyball court. Riders hit the sand once a lap. The sand pit is one small section of the course, not the majority. Needless to say, I have little experience riding in sand like Koksijde. On race day I checked my expectations at the door and told myself that no matter what, as long as I raced with everything I had, I wouldn’t be too hard on myself if my result was less than stellar. On the other hand, I’d be ecstatic if my result was unexpectedly stellar.

I finished 20^th, not stellar but not disappointingly awful. When I crossed the line, all I could say was that was the hardest race I have ever done and I gave it my all.

Check out race footage for a real sideline view of the Worlds.

Originally written for Light and Motion