Dispatch from the Dirty South

Paige KOSTANECKI

Every corner of America has its own claim to fame when it comes to criterium racing. There's always one event that defines the culture of the area--and not just in terms of cycling. For the south, it's Athens Twilight. If you tell anyone in Athens that you ride bikes, they always ask, "Have you ever done Twilight?" It's such an important event to the town that people who haven't ridden a bike since they were a kid can tell you a memory they made along the barriers, cheering on racers as they careen through corners and storm up the downtown streets. It's just that special, and it has been for over 40 years. 

This might have been my fifth Athens, maybe sixth. And it was particularly special for a few reasons. First of all, I had been living in Athens proper--in fact, on the same road just a block down from the backstretch of the infamous "hill course"--for over a year. Georgia in general has such a rich cycling community, from the coast of Savannah to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and I had made so many friends there over my years racing. I also enjoyed the energy of this small yet vibrant college town, nestled in southern horse country, so I said what the hell. I'll move there. So it's my first time racing as a resident and also my last, as I was set to move to Los Angeles to try a whole new scenery the following week. On top of it all, it's also my first race as an Austin Outlaw. So definitely no pressure. 

To be frank, Athens puts the pressure on you no matter what. It's not called the crown jewel of criterium racing for nothing. But that's also part of it. You are at THE show. This is the Daytona 500 for those who thrive when the road narrows and the light dims. Every year, I try to let that energy run through me instead of at me. To let it become me rather can beat me down. Because the name of this entire game should be fun--it's too much of a sacrifice to not be. So I took a deep breath and told myself, "I can, so I will." I toed the line with the same intention I have every race, to go fast and have fun. But as we all know, racing can be a fickle lover. Fighting for position, navigating a flat mid-race, trying to remain calm during a neutralization and re-start in the closing laps after a nasty spill in corner two--it was what most crits are. Chaotic. 

You want one of your biggest races to also be your best but sometimes, it's just not that way. But here's the great thing about Athens: it doesn't care. The crowd is screaming at the tops of their lungs because WOW. You finished Twilight! It puts everything in perspective. What we do takes guts, commitment, and nerves of steel. Even a casual viewer can ascertain as much. They don't care if you were first or last. They want to give you a high five and hand you a beer anyways. 

But perhaps the most meaningful was an interaction I had with two kids right afterwards. I was mid-explanation to a couple friends about why it wasn't my day when I saw these two small faces staring at me off to the side, waiting for me to finish. I motioned them over and asked if they had done the kid's race earlier in the day. They hadn't, but the young boy, who was speaking for her younger sister who was too shy, told me that every soccer season, her number is 56. They had noticed right away I was wearing that number and they decided to cheer me on for the rest of the event. The girl mustered up some courage and told me about the bike she has at home. I handed her one of my team bottles as a thank you for her support, and then their mom came over and took a picture of us. 

It is incredibly easy to get caught up in our own trials and tribulations when it comes to our performance; you'll forget what your main purpose in even doing all of this even is. Some people are hyper-competitive. Some people are in it for the thrill. I am truly in it for connections like these, which are far, far bigger than myself. Both kids sounded pretty stoked to line up for the kid's race next year. 

The next day, we all gathered at one of Athen's most popular coffee spots, Choco Pronto, for the WRDEVO WeRide: Athens community ride. Even living in town for over a year, I met several new people and even got to see a few new roads. It's one thing to swoop into a city for the race and split just as quickly. It's another thing to say thanks to a community that rallys so strongly behind an event, that cares so deeply about what it means culturally, and who are genuinely invested in our success. As a racer, if you want to have longevity in this sport, you have to realize that it isn't just about what numbers you hit, what place you ended up with, or even how you felt throughout the race. It's about showing someone how sweet the freedom of biking is, especially when you do it together, and to inspire people to explore what they're capable of, mentally and physically. 

What is corny is often corny because it's true. And it's a big reason why I've wanted to be an Outlaw for a while now. WR Devo as an organization puts so much weight in actually interacting with the community we race in. I'm incredibly excited for what they have planned for the rest of the season, and to let it fuel my racing every weekend, alongside the energy of my amazing new teammates.