I sucked. I barely owned a proper bike. The closest I got to cycling was that I had a Belgian passport and I lived in Logan Square with the other hip kids with bikes. Oh, and I smoked like a russian submarine officer. Friends got me to join PWP...
After year one, it motivated me to take on triathlons. Fuck it, why not. Pentathlons were a stretch, and I hate horse-riding, but I thought swimming and running were within reach. I used to run a lot, and I've never drowned. Why not.
I had fun, I was hooked and got myself a proper bike (and the looks every triathlete gets when mingling with road cyclists). It's amazing the little things you a cyclist (at any level): cadence, position, and a really sour arse.
After year two, I still smoked, I had now done a few triathlons, but I sucked a whole lot less. My cycling was my strong suit despite years of track and field. Go figure. That year, I qualified for nationals. Wow, what? This is good, and it's clearly thanks to some winter motivation with the PWP clan. I thought it's pretty cool that a little peer pressure from a few good friends can bring you a lot more than just bike skills and a sour behind. I had a new hobby and a newfound pride (still the looks form the road guys though).
Then I quit smoking (about time), reduced my intake to a single Boston Cream, and got a little competitive. I punched through the 2012-2013 session, ran more, swam more, and scored the 4th best bike time at Chicago, transitioned faster than some of the pro's and didn't let one single mother-effer pass me at Nationals on the bike (hail to Kristen). And holy-mother-of-Jesus, I earned a spot at ITU World's after what was an awesome day of racing. PWP, it's been a long journey. Now let's make that Belgian passport proud on Team USA in Edmonton!!!
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