Awhile ago I (Krista) watched the women’s field at a local cyclocross race, straddling a friend’s cyclocross bike so I could bike from spot to spot along the winding course. At one straight away, in which the women zipped by with speed, an older man who was spectating beside me turned to me, gave me a quick once over and asked, “Hey, how come you’re not in this race?” His big smile pressed down the corners of his eyes with grandfatherly glee and I responded, “Oh, I don’t want to race,” a half-truth that I let hesitantly slip out. I cringed for the ensuing, well-worn conversation that I knew was about to take place.

“C’mon! You scared? You can do it, it’s easy!” he said and chuckled. I let out a little laugh.

“I’ve raced before, I know what it’s like,” I said, a smile gripping my face.

“Well, what’s your excuse then!?” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Continue reading →