When I crossed the finish line at Tough Mudder Michigan in 2013 I had no idea it would be another nine and half years before I crossed another finish line. I’d been running in competitions for half my life at that point and it was the first time I’d actually sniffed competitiveness. The audience booed me…

I used to say the cycling community was the only one in which I'd ever felt accepted. That ended when I stood in front of a room full of cycling advocates and enthusiasts and told them with incredible vulnerability that I used to be poor. The audience laughed…

I was ecstatic to be able to ride a bike again, initially. Then I started thinking about riding a bike again. My chest got tight. Tears welled in my eyes. The same image ran through my head over and over again…

Less than a half mile into my ride, a car full of older kids pulled up beside me as I rode. One of them shouted, “Nice helmet…”

It absolutely was, so I replied instantly, “Thank you!”, in my pre-pubescent voice. Then they finished their sentence.