Part 2: Back At It Again!

Hey everybody!  I hope y'all enjoyed my first blog back after a long time away.  I'll be restarting my blog with a three part series about the past few years of my life.  These past three years taught me more than the previous nineteen ever did.  The first part I wrote was focused on my year racing with Hagens-Berman U23.  It was an up and down year that saw me step away from the "dream" of professional racing that I had grown up chasing.

At the conclusion of the season I opted out of attempting to secure a contract for the next year and instead chose to attend the University of Minnesota and race with Donkey Label Racing in Minnesota.  As many of you may already know, 2015 saw me step away from cycling entirely and shift my focus entirely to academics.  This blog will be focused entirely on my first year in college as well as prompted my decision to step away from the sport that I had spent a majority of my life surrounded by.

Back into the time machine we go.  After leaving the season on a high note at the Cascade Classic I was slotted to move into my dorm room at the University of Minnesota.  My intended major at this time was kinesiology.  Moving in wasn't much of a hassle.  After all, I was coming from the controlled chaos that is bike racing, sleeping in a new bed was nothing new to me.  I acquainted myself with my roommate and other hall neighbors throughout the first two days of  "welcome week".  I was lucky enough to have a unique high school story of leaving a brick-and-mortar school in favor of online school to "chase the dream" of bike racing.

The first few days of welcome week went on without a hitch.  However, on the third day, after all of the afternoon festivities there wass a Golden Gopher football game that is free for all freshmen to attend.  I had linked up with a fellow freshmen who I had been friends with at Hudson High.  We went to the game and afterwards we headed back to his dorm to hangout with some other guys.

A bit of a disclaimer about this next story.  I know some of you might think that I was not into the drinking scene when I was in high school, and you'd be right.  However, just like every other kid my age, I had drank before coming to college and I went to the college full well knowing that I would probably drink in excess a few time.  I quickly learned that I could handle alcohol much like a Cat 5 can handle racing in a Pro/1 crit.  The account of my night of the Gopher game will quickly illustrate this to you.  When arrived back at the dorms, my friend's roommate informed us that he was able to get some cheap rum from a friend of his.  Us, being the mature, well-educated guys that we were starting pouring it into red solo cups and drinking it straight.

This drinking of the rum continued on for a bit longer before we decided to fill a water bottle with the rum and head out to walk around.  I have no idea why we decided to leave the dorm.  I would tell you all about our adventure across campus, but I don't even recall leaving the residence hall.  I have zero details from this point on until waking up the next morning.  Waking up the next morning is where this story turns from run-of-the-mill night out, into something more.

Fast-forward to 4am the following morning.  I wake up in the hospital in nothing but a hospital gown, still plastered.  I glance at my hands and notice that they're covered in blood.  I touch my face and feel an odd texture right over my eye brow.  A nurse walked by and I slurred out "Where am I??" in her general dirction.  She informed me that I was at HCMC, a hospital a few miles from campus.  She chuckled and said "Honey, you really can't handle your alcohol".  Apparently, on my adventure on campus, I had fallen and cut my face.  We then headed back into the dorms where I proceeded to throw-up oodles before the community assistants called 911 and I was ushered to HCMC in an ambulance.  At the hospital they hooked me up to an IV and stitched up my brow.  Let me tell you, if you want to have an extravagant bill after a night out, this is not the way to do it.

I left the hospital a few minutes later and contemplated what to do next.  First, I texted my sister that I had messed up.  Why I contacted her first I will never know.  Next I called Jim.  Let's just say that was not a fun call.  He told me to get in a cab and head back to my dorm.  I of course decided to walk home instead, in the wrong direction at first, as my own "walk of shame".  My clothes and face were still covered in blood, so I'm sure I looked a sight.

Upon arriving at my dorm I washed up and told my roommate about the story of my night.  I felt awful about what had gone on the night before.  I had been incredibly immature and reckless and it was just and awful feeling to have.  I talked to Jim and Carla about what had went on and they were not stoked, and rightfully so.  My night out was not without consequences from the school either.  I was put on probation in the dorms, had to attend a session with a doctor regarding my drinking, write a short paper about what I had learned and how to prevent something similar from happening again, and finally I had to meet with a provost.  Keep in mind this all happened before the semester even started!

The next week, classes started.  It took me around two minutes to figure out that I was not prepared for college.  Never, in all of my time in high school had I studied.  I had never learned to study when I was in high school.  Online high school was so easy that I was able to graduate third in the class without ever reviewing the material.  While I was out "chasing the dream" for the past two years, fellow classmates were spending time hitting the books, taking AP courses, and preparing for college. That being said, given a second chance, would I have stayed in a traditional high school and forgo the two years that I spent roaming about the country?  Absolutely.  There is not a doubt in my mind that I would have been able to race at a high level without ever leaving Hudson High.  Were there benefits to the non-traditional high school life?  Of course, and I loved it, but I paid dearly for it during my first few semesters of college.

The first two weeks of school were absolute torture.  I had no idea what was going on in any of my classes, and on top of that I just didn't know what I wanted to do for a living.  I know the second point is a common trend among freshmen in college.  The biggest difference for me was the past ten plus years had been spent with the intent of becoming of professional bike racer.  Once my dream had fallen through I had no idea what I wanted to do.  I intended on majoring in kinesiology because I had heard many fellow ridersdo the same, not because I wanted to.  This feeling of being lost in terms of my future, my feeling of being overwhelmed in college, and the realization that I was never going to be achieve my goal of becoming a world-tour rider sent me into a very deep depression.  There was also a lot of guilt about my night out drinking, but I don't think that factored in as much.  During the first few weeks of school I lost a lot of weight, never slept, felt miserable, and I had never been less happy.  It finally reached a point in mid-September that I went to go see professionals about my struggles.

After reaching out for help things started looking up.  I was riding again, with the intent of racing for Donkey Label, I had a new girlfriend, and classes were going better.  The rest of my first semester went on without consequence and I was able to achieve high grades in all of my classes.  The next semester was an entirely different ball game.  After winter break I headed back to the dorms with my head held high and ready to tackle any challenge thrown at me.  That lasted for a handful of weeks.  Eventually, I started staying up late and skipping class in favor of sleeping in.  I stopped riding, I stopped studying, I stopped doing anything that was mildly difficult.  From late February until the end of the semester my day usually consisted of waking up around 3pm, laying there dreading thinking of how I would waste the day, doing nothing until midnight, and watching movies on my phone until 3 or 4 in the morning.  Basically, I would wake up every day wishing that I was asleep again.

I never told Jim, Carla, my girlfriend, not a soul.  Other than my roommate, not a single person knew that I had stopped riding my bike, stopped going to class, stopped doing everything except eating and sleeping.  Eventually the semester ended and I went back to Hudson.  The week between coming home and final grades being posts was by far the worst week of my life.  That week felt like the final week of a death row inmate, knowing that something bad was going to happen, but not knowing what it would be like.  Finally, grades were posted and I had to confess to my family that I had spent the past few month lying to all of them.  The solution I put forward was to step away from the bike, both racing and riding, for the foreseeable future.

During this second semester I grew to despise cycling and everything that went along with it.  I saw it as the reason that I came into college so far behind and not knowing what I wanted to do with my life.  Every single time I rode that spring it felt like cycling was a chore.  It reached a point where even the idea of going out for a ride would put me in an awful mood.  I raced a few times that spring and that did nothing but emphasize how much I had grown to hate the sport.  Did the decision of stepping away from the sport help ease a lot of the depression that I had been feeling?  Surprisingly it did.  I felt that a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and I could just relax and "find myself".

The meeting with my parents concluded with not only the decision to step away from the bike, but a few consequences as well.  One of these consequences was getting a second job.  I already had a job at The Bicycle Chain, a wonderful shop in Roseville.  After a bit of searching I found a job at the Hudson Menard's working from 5-9am stocking shelves.  Most of my summer was spent waking up at 4am, working at Menard's until 9am, driving to the Bicycle Chain to work 10-4pm, and then driving home before heading to bed to start all over again the next morning.

Reflecting back on my second semester, there was no defining moment where I can say "That was when I decided to quit riding", or "That's why I stopped going to class".  This was a very strange time for me.  A time that taught me a lot about myself and showed me that it's never a good idea to keep secrets from loved ones, among other things.  I need to give a big thanks to Jim, Carla, Maren, and the countless members of the local cycling community that supported me in my decision to step away from cycling.

That's all for part 2.  I know this story was a bit of a downer, but this part of my story is one that very few know about.  A story that needed to be told.  If you ever run into me at a race, on the trail, or anywhere, feel free to ask me any questions you have either about this time of my life, or any other!  Until next time!!

Part 1: Back at it again!

Well, after my long absence from this blog I decided to update y'all on the happenings and some of my plans for the coming year.  The last post I wrote was way back in 2013 after coming back from getting my teeth kicked in at junior track worlds.  Since then quite a lot has changed.  I'm going to separate this story into 3 parts. This first entry is all about my year of "living the dream" with Hagens-Bermans U23.  The next segment will be about my first two years at the University of Minnesota and my decision to stop racing/riding all-together.  The final part will be about the past ~18 months that have seen me go from despising the sport that I grew up with, to falling back in love with it, as well as my plans for the 2017 season.

So, into the time machine we go.  After my last year with Slipstream-Craddock I picked up a contract with Hagens-Berman U23.  I spent the winter/spring of 2014 living in Pacific Grove, California with a teammate of mine on HB-U23, Eamon Lucas.  It was a wonderful 4 month period.  I had graduated from online high school in January (more on that in part 2).  This allowed me to spend almost all of my time training and getting ready for the season.  I was able to get quite fit and I was stoked for the season to begin.  Flash forward to late March 2014 and HB-U23 had our second team camp.  The plan was to spend a week training with the team in Oxnard, California before heading to the Redlands Bicycle Classic the following week.  Unfortunately I caught a wicked stomach bug while at the team camp.  This knocked me out for the first few days of training camp and I was not able to get healthy again during the team camp.  However, I still made the team for Redlands.

Coming into the race I expected it to be no harder than any of the junior races that I had participated in while in Europe.  I could not have been more wrong.  There were a couple of factors working against us from the gun.  First, we had a very young team, with 2 juniors, 2 second year U23's, and the rest being first year U23's like myself.  Also, many of us had picked up the same stomach bug during the camp, leaving us a tad weaker than we'd prefer.  I'm going to avoid going into detail about each stage so I'll just give you a little tidbit about each.

Stage 1:  100K Highland Circuit Race, dropped 20K in, made time cut (barely)!

Stage 2:  12.6K Big Bear TT, made time cut (there's a trend here)! 

Stage 3:  200K Beaumont Road Race, spent a lot of time going back for water/food, dropped with 50K to go, still made time cut!

Stage 4:  60K Crit, First NRC crit, basically 'Days of Thunder' for 60K, pulled after half way.

Stage5:  160K Sunset Loop Circuit Race, dropped on the way to the loop, still made time cut!

So that was my introduction to NRC racing.  Basically, it made the devastating experience of getting 26th in the Individual Pursuit at junior track worlds seem like a gift compared to the results I had at Redlands.  One of the few fond memories I have of Redlands is going back to get bottles for my teammates.  It was awesome to see that even though I was having a garbage week on the bike, I was still able to contribute somewhat to the efforts of the team.

After Redlands I drove up to Seattle in the HB-U23 team van with our mechanic, Tre, and three other teammates.  The drive was your standard 20+ hour jaunt up the west coast.  Typically spent on your phone or staring blankly off into the horizon.  I was really looking forward to getting back into the groove of things in Seattle and getting some training in before doing some local races in the Sea-Tac area.

Once we arrived in Seattle I got all settled into my host house and set about training.  This year with HB-U23 was my first experience with true "host housing".  Basically, to save money, domestic teams like HB-U23 will stay with families that offer their houses for us to stay.  Don't get me wrong, this is an incredibly generous gesture by these families to open their house to us, but it still feels weird staying with strangers.  It's was fairly hard for me to get comfortable at a host-house as I always felt that I was intruding in one way or another.  For instance, the day we arrived it was around dinner time when I rolled in.  My host family was already sitting down for dinner and my arrival interrupted dinner.  In reality, this is only a minor convenience, but it still felt a bit off-putting to me personally that I had to interrupt a family that was opening their door to a 19 year old stranger.

I was able to get three or four solid days of riding in while in Seattle before, sure enough, I got sick again.  This time it was just a cold, but it was the straw that broke the camel's back.  I was slotted to do Joe Martin and Gila in the coming weeks but I sat down with my director and told him there was no way I would be in good enough form, mentally or physically, to race.  Without going into details, my director was not at all pleased with my decision.  Luckily I didn't really care if my director wasn't pleased at this point, so I flew home.

It's worth mentioning that my experience at team camp, Redlands, and Seattle led to my decision to stop "chasing the dream" of riding with a top tier team.  The amount of sacrifice required versus what I thought I could get out of the sport just wasn't worth it.  I decided that after my year with HB-U23 I would go to college and race locally only.

Just to pull the curtain back on what it took to be a mediocre cat 1 and race the NRC.  During my time in Pacific Grove, California my coach at the time was $400 per month, rent was $600 per month (I know that is incredibly low for Pacific Grove).  Right there we have a thousand dollars gone per month, but that's not counting the sacrifice of moving away for 4+ months.  I missed a lot at home when I was gone, the biggest part being the death of the dog I had grown up with, Gulliver.  Some of you may shake your heads at that, but he was a huge part of our family from 2002-2014.  So that is the cost of those 4 months spent in California.  On the bright side, I was getting paid by Hagens-Berman at the time, but it was only $250 per month.  That is almost nothing, especially when you think about how much time was spent on the bike, but I was getting paid to ride my bike, so it was fine by me.  Also, it should be notedthat my whole experience with bike racing, travelling, and racing in far off locations wouldn't have been possible without the unwavering support that came from my family.  Jim, Carla, & Maren never stopped supporting my cycling from the day I started until the day I stopped, and I can't say thanks enough for that.

The next few months went by in a flash.  I raced locally mostly, with my only result of merit being winning the LaCrosse TT up Grandad's Bluff.  I spent most of my time just training in an effort to salvage the last half of my season.  Another highlight of this time was welcoming a new dog into our family, Theodore.  He's a great dog and getting him really livened up things in the Cullen household (even though Carla can't stand him).

Flash-forward to June and the NorthStar Gran Prix is coming up.  I guest rode for Twin-Six along with some other local riders.  I had a very good time trial and ended up 22nd after stage one, and second in the white jersey.  Later that night we had the St. Paul crit.  Upon signing in to the race I noticed an asterisk next to my name, indicating that I had a call-up.  I had no idea why but I gladly took it.  I was the last called up to the front two rows at the start.  Without a doubt I would say riding to the start in front of a home crowd at a race that I had grown up watching is still one of the highlight of my cycling career.  The crit itself went well, finishing in the lead group.  The next day at the Cannon Falls road race the field exploded in the cross-winds.  I was able to make it into the front echelon internally, but after I while I blew up and ended up in the groupetto with a majority of the race.  At the uptown crit I was caught behind a crash, and rather than just take a free lap and I should have, I kept riding in an attempt to chase the field down.  I did not make it back but I was still able to start the Menominee stage the following day.  Menominee was a bad day for me.  I wasn't super fresh and it was raining as well, two factors that set the day off on the wrong foot.  I spent a little over half the stage in the caravan just trying not to get dropped.  However, after a while the elastic snapped and I pulled out of the race in the feed zone.  I still had a great time at NorthStar and I can't wait to race it again.

Next up for me was the Tour of Americas Dairyland.  We were running a light squad for this trip, with just the mechanic, myself, three other riders, and good ol' JimmerC.  I raced 8 days in a row of what my team and I affectionately called "Tour de Crit".  The four of us really meshed together well and we were able to pull of results almost every day.  Personally, I had a really good day at Schlitz Park, finishing second in a 5 man break.  Because we had a string of good results I was able to leave the "Tour de Crit" on a high note and a bit of extra prize money as well.

Nationals in Madison was next.  The road race and TT were nothing to write home about, a non-result in both races.  However, the crit was something special.  We had a very good sprinter on our team in my roommate from California, Eamon Lucas.  The plan was to watch for the break to go, keep it in check, and then mass on the front with 3-5 laps to go.  Eamon and I really knew how to read eachother on the bike so I was tasked with taking him from the bell into 100 meters before the final corner.  Right away on lap 1 crashed with a bunch of guys, went over the bars, and jacked my hand up pretty good.  I ignored my hand and took my free-lap.  A few laps later I was able to get into "the move" with a handful of other riders.  I took my light turns in the break and just tried to keep things moving, knowing that if it comes back together, we have Eamon for the sprint.  Eventually it came back together with about  20 laps left.  At his point we (HB-U23) all try to find one another and find our way to the front.  We were line ourselves out on the front with 3 laps to go just as planned.  The next three laps were like amazing.  We were all riding perfectly and keeping the swarming field at bay.  Coming into 1 to go it was my turn to give it up for Eamon.  I took one last, hard pull for 3/4 of a lap before the sprint started.  Eamon had to start his sprint a bit early but was still able to nab third place.  It was a great day and the perfect way to end road nationals that year.

After nationals I convinced my director to put my on the team for the Cascade Classic in Bend, Oregon.  Cascade was one of the most scenic races I have ever done, with gorgeous views of the Cascade mountains and great racing on top of it.  My results at Cascade were fairly lackluster.  I was able to stay with the peloton for much longer than I was at Redlands or NorthStar, but when the going really got tough, I was unable to stay with the lead group.  I made time cut every day here before abandoning on the final stage.  At the time, I thought this would be the last NRC stage race I would ever do.  On top of that, Bend was the first place where I had a big result, finishing second in the Time Trial and Road Race at junior nationals in 2009.  It was interesting to think that Bend was the place where my "real" racing career had started and where it would end as well.  All-in-all, leaving Bend was bittersweet to say the least.  Once I was home from Cascade I spent the rest of my summer just riding for fun, racing at the track in Blaine, and getting prepared for my first semester of college at the University of Minnesota.

That's it Part 1. I hope the handful of you who read this enjoyed it!  The next part that I'll post some time in the coming weeks will be focused primarily on my first two years of college and the decision to quit racing.  Thanks for reading!