It’s Mother’s Day, and we’re celebrating our moms and their unconditional support for all of our bike-quirkieness. From Band-Aids for skinned knees as kids, to knee warmers as, well, bigger kids, our moms have always given us what we’ve needed and made our passion possible in some way.
Here’s to the CXM Pit Crew mothers and all the cyclocross moms out there! We have a few individual shout-outs below for the moms who in their own way have made CXM possible.
Happy Mother’s Day to the only 70-year-old mom I know who rides more miles than her bike-racing son. I’m grateful for the many long weekends and nights you spent sleeping in tents on trips so the family and I could race our bikes, and all the sacrifices you made to give us opportunites. Even though you’ve only been a spectator at cyclocross races despite my encouragement to give the barriers a try, you’ve participated in the cyclocross scene a lot more than you realize. I’m ringing a cowbell for you today. Thank you, love you.
This one goes out to my longest standing sponsor, my mom! Through many disappointments trying (and failing to succeed) racing Elites, comped entry fees (Team Mom) and cowbell ringing, my mom has always been there for me. She’s braved bad weather, both hot and cold to come out and support my racing. That with other excellent mom-related stuff has me appreciating her all year, but especially today I want to give her a shoutout. Thanks mom, love you!
Thanks Mom for fostering my love of bikes and cycling by bringing home those Bicycling magazines from the library when I was home sick from elementary school. I remember when you asked if I was sure I wanted those toe clips to strap my feet into the pedals just before you bought them for me. Thanks for supporting my avocation. You told me just before you left this world how you suppressed voicing your concerns when your teen son would disappear on that bike for hours in some direction just to “be home before dinner.” I’m still here riding. Thanks Mom.
My mom never rode bikes, and didn’t make it to many of my races, probably because I started racing at 40. But I remember the countless times she patched me up after I wrecked as a kid, and especially the time she took me to the ER and I got voted “Goriest of the Night” by the nurses. Even after a concussion, or three, I can’t remember, she never tried to make me stop. But I may never forgive her for making me wear a SkidLid after concussion number one! Thanks, Mom!
Mom, I was turning 10 and still hadn’t learned to ride the bike you got me when I was 8. “You better learn to ride that bike today, because tomorrow we’re going to donate it to a kid who wants to ride it.” So I went out and did. A few years and two road bikes later, when I was without a bike after destroying the second in a crash, you were pulling your hair out dealing with me. You told dad, “I don’t care if you have to rob a bank, get that kid a bike!” Knowing I needed to ride, you never questioned it, just told me to be careful and be home for dinner, both of which I mostly did. Thanks for being the person who helped me find my passion, mom!
Thanks mom for always believing in me, even when some situations I got myself into looked rather dreary.
What can be said about Mom? Certainly whatever words I can cram into a paragraph will do no justice. How do you say “thank you” to the person who brought you into the world? That same person, who then went on to make you pancakes or waffles every morning for a decade, even if sometimes they were Eggos because she had to get to work. How do you thank the person who expresses unconditional pride and support for her son even though he just wants to ride bikes, take pictures and listen to questionable music all the time? I suppose telling her that I love her every day is a good start, though I’ve already got that one covered. Thanks Mom, for everything. Now where’s the maple syrup?
Happy Mother’s Day. Thanks for carrying me to a cyclocross race at three weeks old, taking me to the park to ride my balance bike, giving me cool Band-Aids when I fell down, always cheering for me when I’m “racing,” and having snacks ready for me after my race. You’re the best.