Twenty-four years of March 2nds, and the through-line is unmistakable... wheels turning, always turning. Started in 2002 with muddy laps in Wallingford and guilty McDonald's breakfasts during training phases. The young version of me was shedding pounds and chasing fitness with an enthusiasm that still feels familiar.
Then came 2004, sitting at a desk waiting to be laid off, the Comanche program canceled, fear of homelessness creeping in. Life doesn't always cooperate. By 2007 I was blogging from laundromats, wrestling with air filters, squeezing hikes between chores. The grind continued.
2008 brought both the gorgeous ride up to Lolo Pass and a broken shifter that meant riding without gears all season. Setbacks happen, you pedal anyway. 2010's Spring Sun captured that optimism perfectly... no matter how ominous things appear, spring arrives.
The years stacked up. Hucking drops between fast food parking lots in 2011, saying goodbye to best friends. Arriving exhausted at Lava Mountain Lodge in 2012, vibrating with excitement for my first snow bike race. Smashing course records in 2015. Fighting for cyclists' safety in 2016.
More recently, Pacific sunsets in 2023, uncharted mindscapes in 2024 where I opened up about how my brain works differently, and just last year, detour therapy when plans fell apart but the weekend delivered anyway. March 2nd keeps teaching the same lesson... front wheel forward, pedal through the mud, find the beauty in the detours.