The Bones

1st Year.

When you imagine a cyclist whose father was a world class sprinter, you would probably picture a big tall hulk of a person as a result of perfect genetics. That's where you're wrong. I weigh at least 150 on a good day and I'm 6'1''. Its weird to think that. When I first started to race I was even thinner. It took 4 years of of hard gym work to get to my current weight. My career as a cyclist started late. I was 15 when I started to race. I was thrown into it and learned the basics of riding through the yelling and teachings of my dad and through the help of my dad's old coach, Gil.

3rd Year

That winter I trained hard though the gym and on the trainer. I made sure that I was going to be good. But again I was just decent. I was doing well in races. I was keeping up with the top local jrs, but I could not, for the life of me learn tactics, my inexperience was making me lose. That year was also the first year I heard people say stuff about me slowly moving through the ranks and my dad being director of the track. That hurt my feelings a bunch. There were nights I'd come home beyond upset and just sulk in bed. Depression hit me, it hurt me to hear those things.

4th Year. Last year as a jr.

Then one night of racing I beat a jr rider by a tire width. He was livid, in the warm circle he told me that the only reason I can get far in the sport is because I will piggyback off of my dad's success. Thats what set me off. The next race, out of pure rage, I hooked the kid all the way into the wall. The next two years I set myself out to show the sport that I am a different breed of rider. I will not be pure endurance or pure sprint. I will be both. I will be a powerhouse on the bike. To this day I train with the same anger that was put into my heart the night that kid said that to me. The last two years of racing as a jr. I crushed the local jr riders. But to this day I still have to fight to show to myself that I am one of the best track cyclist in the nation.