Spandex Recall

I’ve worn a lot of spandex. Literally, spandexed every single day of my life from when I was 19 years old to around 2019 or 2020 at age 39. I don’t wear spandex anymore. But back in those 20-odd years of spandex, I was all spandex. All the time. So, it goes for a professional cyclist. Three to five hours a day, I pedaled my bike up and down the hills of Santa Cruz, CA, and worldwide. Close-to-me cycling people told me to keep training logs and stuff like that, but I didn’t. So did the not-close-to-me cycling people, too. Most of my bike racing career was pre-Strava, so I don’t really have a solid record of all those spandex hours. But, trust me on this, it was a lot of spandex.

The reason I don’t wear spandex anymore isn’t because of vanity or even function. Spandex is super functional. Plus, in the right circles, it looks dope. But, I don’t wear spandex anymore because I had a difficult time adjusting to my post-spandex life. Let’s be straight: spandex became my culture in totality. I spent so much of my spandex years focused on being FAST! that being FAST! was my identity. I have worked hard to rebuild that identity outside of FAST! Not wearing spandex helps me stay on this course. I now chase EXPERIENCE! not FAST!.

Here’s some context on my relationship with experiencing other cultures. During high school my family hosted a Ukrainian exchange student through the American Field Service (AFS) exchange program. AFS was founded by volunteer ambulance drivers during World War I. They got tired of picking up all the body parts and blown-up people from the war and thought that if everyone just got to know one another better, we would perhaps resort to blowing each other up less frequently. 

As a result of my family’s experience hosting an exchange student for a year, I like to think that I have a clearer window into the culture and psyche of Ukraine vis a vis my connection to my Ukrainian brother, Sasha. I certainly do care a lot more about what happens over there at the very least, simply because I care about Sasha and want him to be happy and alive and to have a good life.

When we know and start to understand people from other cultures, we care about them more and are less inclined to do them harm.  

 Enough with death and destruction, let’s get back to spandex. Can one gain experience and understanding of other cultures and oneself by participating in the Grand Traverse ski race? 

It’s a dubious proposition, but let’s give it a shot.