Happy Father's Day!

   Today's post is dedicated to the man most responsible for any interest in athletics that I might possess - my Dad. Many of you know, my father has been a cyclist for his entire life. He started racing up in Kenosha, Wisconsin when he was in his teens. He was really good, too. He raced and beat guys who made it to the Olympics, I think. This story kind of changes depending on who is telling it, but my dad was supposed to race at the Olympic team qualifier and got the mumps / flu / some sort of crazy illness and couldn't race.
   He continued racing into his late 30's. I've never asked why he stopped, but I'm assuming that it's for the normal reasons - job, kids, life. Probably more kids than anything. Even though he wasn't racing, my Dad did everything he could to encourage my brother and me to love bicycles. I remember watching ABC's "Wide World of Sports" with Dad on Sundays in July to get a five-minute update on the Tour de France. I followed the careers of US cyclists Greg LeMond, Andy Hampsten and Davis Phinney long before Lance Armstrong became a household name in the US.
   But Dad didn't want us just to follow cycling - he wanted us to ride. My brother raced BMX when we lived in Tucson, but Northern Virginia didn't have a track when we moved there. Rather than throwing up his hands and enrolling my brother in soccer (which was huge in NOVA), my Dad started a BMX track - the mighty Starlit - and ran it for a couple of years. Only as an adult, can I truly appreciate what a huge undertaking that was. Every Sunday from April to September, my dad was out at Starlit managing the races. He was there several days throughout the week as well, maintaining the track. If you lived in Northern Virginia and raced BMX as a kid - thank my Dad. He's the one who brought it there. (Sidebar: If you raced at Starlit, there is also a very good chance you stole a hot dog or candy bar from me, since I'm the one who ran the concession stand.)

I don't know any of these people, but this was at Starlit.

   I started my "racing career" on that track. I had never really shown any interest in racing BMX, and girls my age never showed up to race anyway...until one did. I don't recall her name, but she was my age (10 or 11) and she wanted to race. Before I knew it, my dad slapped a helmet on me and loaded me up on the starting gate. I heard "Racers ready! Pedals set!" and BAM! The gate was down and I was racing! And I won! I raced almost every weekend for the next five years after that - holidays included; most Christmases were spent in a hotel room in Indianapolis getting ready for the JAG BMX World Championships.

Seriously. How cool was I?

I'm thinking I was 13 here and I'm pretty sure I'm racing boys.

   As I moved out of my BMX phase and on to more important things for a high school girl (like cheerleading, singing and shopping), Dad did the best he could to feign interest in my activities. I'm sure he as like many Dads of teenage girls in this regard. He was proud, but couldn't really relate because seriously - what does he know about cheerleading? It wasn't until I was in my 20's and mentioned that I was interested in mountain biking that we really started to bond. NOW I was speaking his language. The next time I saw him, we went to a bike shop and picked out a Klein mountain bike. I gotta tell ya - the best thing as a daughter who has an interest in riding, is to have a father who has an interest in riding.
  Over the years, even though we live in different states, Dad and I have been able to ride together at times. One of my favorite rides was when my dad, brother and husband all rode the MS 150 Jack & Back ride together. Dad had so much fun, he even came back the next year and rode it again.

Team Mycom! (My dad's company)

   Though he continued to ride throughout his life, he never mentioned racing again until a few years ago, when he called me up and told me we were all going to Portugal in two years. Why? The World Masters Track Championships where being held there and he wanted to go. He was in his 70's at the time. The next two years of his life was dedicated to training. This included almost weekly trips to Trexlertown Velodrome in Pennsylvania - almost 4 hours away - because that was the closest velodrome. THAT is dedication. And sure enough, two years later, my entire family were all in Portugal, cheering Dad on.

That's Dad in the middle in the red and black. He's a total badass.

   If anyone is still wondering from where I get my dedication to training - it's my dad. Not only is there a genetic thing going on, but let me tell you, there is NOTHING that will make you feel the need to get off of your butt more than your 70+ father telling you he rode 40 miles that morning...while you're sitting on your sofa eating pancakes.
   So Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thank you for all you have done for me. You've truly been an inspiration. I hope to be cheering you on at many, many more races.