The Dirt Field

Oh, Cat. I heard terrible news earlier – that you were hit by a car while riding your bike yesterday – and I feel helpless to do anything while you lay in a hospital bed trying to heal. I just saw you on Thursday night while we were both headed to the 6pm RBC ride, but we barely had time to talk before the ride rolled out. Now it will be a little while before we can talk again and, while I thought about putting these sentiments into a card that could be waiting when you wake up, I’d rather share them here and tell everybody about how special you are to me.

I remember the first time we met: it was in the bathroom before the Black Hills Circuit Race in 2011. I was new to road racing, fresh off that bad crash from the week before and somewhat of a pariah in the community. People had been pretty hard on me in the days before that race, but you introduced yourself, were warm and kind, and offered me a place on your team so I could get more experience with road racing. You made me feel welcome when not a lot of other people did.

In the following two years, you have always been so supportive of my racing and had the kindest things to say whenever our paths would cross. We’ve had some great rides together between some of the big rides last year and the various RBC group rides. There often aren’t any other women on those rides with the boys, but I’ve always loved when you would come out and kick some ass. I remember saying to Andrew after a particularly hilly ride where you just kept killing it on each climb, “Dude, what is she on?? She is on fire!”

It isn’t just your riding that I love. You have always been a total spitfire; sassy and direct and a real charmer. I never come away from a conversation with you without smiling and thinking, that chick is awesome. There are a lot of people I see regularly while out riding where I’m all, hey, hi, smile, nod, keep pedaling, but when I see you, I want to stop and talk if only just for a minute. You always remind me how lucky I am to count you as a friend. Even my parents, who just met you several weeks ago at the Air Force Classic, mentioned several times since then that you were so nice and that they enjoyed talking to you.

At the beginning of this racing season, you sent me a long message that I saved (which is rare because I delete everything). It was one of the nicest emails I’ve ever gotten and literally brought tears to my eyes. You congratulated me on my accomplishments as a racer, wished me luck in the upcoming season, and made me feel so cared for and supported. It meant the world and I had to save the message because it was too special to erase. I’ve gone back and read it several times throughout this season, both to keep my spirits up in challenging times and because it’s so nice to be reminded of the wonderful people back home.

Now you’re hurt and it won’t even do any good to come see you and tell you this in person because you’re going to be sedated for a while while you heal. I am so sorry this happened. It’s our collective worst nightmare as cyclists and I still can’t wrap my head around thinking that this happened yesterday, at an intersection we cross all the time, at a place just by my house. I want to rewind to a few days ago and ask you to come out to the shop ride to save you from being out on your own in the wrong place at the wrong time. I want to save you from being the one that got hit, because you deserve better from life and because you mean so much to everyone in our community and we need you to be okay.

I have to believe you’ll be okay, though. You have always been tough, always trained and raced hard, always been a fighter. It will be a long road to recovery, but we like long roads, right? And you have your family and me and Andrew and all of MABRA here waiting to help you get there.

I’ll also see if I can’t get the 4th of July postponed to the 14th so you don’t miss anything good, okay?

In your message to me, you said, “It should give you comfort knowing that the RBC Worlds will continue; Bike Lane shop rides are always interesting and all of MABRA land is proud of YOU….and some kid named ‘Joe’ with extremely long femurs.” It’s my turn to tell you the same. While you are recovering, RBC Worlds will continue; the Bike Lane shop rides will keep being interesting, Joe and his long femurs are still the pride of the community, and all of MABRA land is thinking of you, missing your beautiful smile, and excited to have you come back to us soon.

Much love and best wishes for a full recovery.