Actually my friend Anthony had this idea. Laura had it too, and with a whole bunch of conversation around it among the three of us, I’m not sure who actually hatched. It wasn’t my idea, I was reluctant at first, but now I’m head over heels for it. A little backstory here before I let the cat out of the bag.

I raced a road bike professionally for a decade. That time came to an end at the close of 2015. I’d raced at the highest level, was happy with what I accomplished, and can look back on my career content. I was 32 and ready for a new chapter of life. I’d co-founded a company, UnTapped, and was ready to move on. 

Apologies for repeating myself if you’ve heard this before, but I stumbled on gravel. On a whim and friendly, coercive nudge from Rebecca Rusch, I did my first 200 mile race in Emporia, Kansas in 2016. There were thousands of people racing and sure, quite a bit of fanfare. There was a chaise lounge and a heck of a lot of fun, but there were no drones, no post race press conference, and no such thing as gravel beef. I had a successful first race at the event now referred to as Unbound, a bout of bad luck in 2017, then won again in 2018 as competition was strong and only getting stronger. 

I’m not even sure we even called it a “gravel race” in 2016, if my memory serves me correctly. Mixed terrain, off road, groad, there were all kinds of terms to describe this fledgling niche of cycling, but it wasn’t yet the circus it is now. A lot has happened in the sport’s recent history.

Many of my European contemporaries from the pro peloton would deal with an injury or have an off year, not sign a contract, and then be left in the lurch without a job the following year. Their bikes would be rolled into the garage and collect dust for a year or five years or maybe indefinitely. I specifically retired from cycling when I did — that is, with plenty left in the tank — because I wanted to continue my fondness for the sport. I wanted to still enjoy getting out for a ride instead of looking at a bike spitefully.

So fastforward to those late 20-teen years and I was coasting off the fitness I’d gained from the previous fifteen or so years of riding a bike. I had plenty of success in gravel races, all without training, per se. I rode when I wanted to ride. I’d pedal harder at times, easier at times, join group rides, and test myself at races. I also did not ride plenty of times because life was busy and priorities were elsewhere. But the idea of a coach or logging training or working with a nutritionist all seemed foreign from a previous life. Heck, I thought it was wrong to do those things in this chapter of life, like it was sandbagging.

It seems odd to say that I’m passionate about beer, but quite frankly, I love beer. I love the artistry and alchemy, the different flavors and creative minds behind breweries, big and small. I find connection and friendship over a shared hoppy beverage. Plus I love when it’s five o’clock and I crack into whatever IPA or occasional stout I have in the fridge. 

So after a decade of abstemious behavior when it comes to alcohol (or quite frankly, anything besides salad and pasta), I have spent most of the past eight years making up for lost time. While I don’t drink to excess, it’s safe to say that I have had a beer (or two or sometimes three) nearly every night for the past eight years. And we live in the age of pint sized cans, so it’s not a dainty 12oz. Coors Lite I’m sipping — I’m into those heavy, hoppy tallboy IPAs. It’s not lost on me that alcohol isn’t a health food. All the latest research says that even the once touted occasional small glass of wine doesn’t offer the benefits it once was claimed to have. Conservatively, that’s 100,000 delicious calories more than a teetotaler would have consumed.

Lots has happened in my life the past handful of years. Laura and I got married, we moved clear across the country, bought a house, and had our first kiddo at the start of the pandemic in 2020. I shattered my elbow in the fall of 2021, which I’ve largely kept quiet about, but it’s plagued me ever since then. Every day it hurts. Every night it keeps me awake. Every bike ride it hurts. It aches constantly and just plain sucks. I’ve had a lot of orthopedic injuries in my day and this elbow injury lives in a league of its own.

Another year passed and we had our son Hayden. A month after we became parents the second time around, I had a pulmonary embolism. (TL;DR: that’s a blood clot that worked its way into my lungs.) I don’t necessarily believe having one child prepares you for having a second. Maybe a second prepares you for a third, and a third prepares you for a fourth, but going from one to two was like becoming parents for the first time again. And to throw a PE into the mix was more than a mild distraction.

In short, life has gotten a bit more complicated. It’s become richer, more fun, busier! And more complicated.

Meanwhile over the course of this chunk of time we’ve seen gravel not just gain popularity, but become an enormous tidal wave. I have this vision in my mind of the wave growing and growing and it’s something that’s been fun to watch and ride. I had lots of success in those first three or four years and have linked together some results here and there over the past few years too, but now I’m watching this wave as a massive shadow loom over me. To be competitive in gravel these days means treating it professionally. Riding residual fitness doesn’t cut it anymore. For better or worse, the sport has changed.

So what’s the idea? It’s simple. It’s as logical as it is foolish. It has me really hungry for the coming year as much as I’m genuinely curious how it’ll go.

I’m going full circle and treating 2024 with the same level of seriousness that I did in a previous life as a professional road racer.

I recently got a coach. I’m working with a nutritionist for the first time since 2010. Instead of going into a gym and doing 30 sits-ups and some random number of lunges, I got a strength coach for the first time in my life. And, for whatever it’s worth, I’ve had fewer beers in the past month than I have had any month since the winter of 2015. I can see that trend continuing just as I see my overnight heart rate continue to drop.

A little over one month ago, which marks two years from the initial surgery that planted the metal in there, I had sixteen pieces of hardware removed from my elbow. I took the next couple weeks off and called it my first real offseason in eight years. Then, when I got back on the bike I noticed the pain caused when riding is gone. Hallelujah!

I don’t want to overlook this little procedure of mine. Sixteen. SIXTEEN pieces of hardware?! As awkward as it is, take a look at your elbow and try to picture how you even start to put that much metal in there. I’ve learned a lot about the anatomy and function of the elbow over the past two years and here are. A couple takeaways; 1) the elbow is an incredibly complex joint that we take for granted and 2) I have a hard-earned appreciation for what it took to earn the title of “that’s the worst elbow fracture I’ve ever seen”, as dubbed by more than one physician. As a third appreciation addendum, as a cyclist I’m an especially appreciative that this is an upper extremity issue and not lower.

The pulmonary embolism isn’t entirely in the rearview, but I’ve met some very wise people over the past two years, visited a handful of specialists, and I’ve learned how to live with it and make let it have a big impact in my life. Things are on the up and up.

So here we go! I’ve had a few people message me and ask why I’m doing double days in December. (Or even sometimes triple days. Clearly they’re sleuths on Strava… and that triple day was a combination of indoor riding and outdoor riding when the weather got too harsh on a particularly long day.) Here’s the answer to that question.

This is an itch I want to scratch. I have the support on the home front to pursue this adventure. It’s not easy, especially based in Vermont, especially with what I have going on and off the bike, but I figure I’m doing a disservice to the position I’m lucky enough to be in if I don’t take this opportunity seriously.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

In 2016, there was no such thing as a gravel pro, so there was no need to publish one’s race calendar. Now, here we are on the verge of 2024 and if you don’t publish your calendar it’s like you’re already on your back foot. My event calendar for the coming year is ambitious and it’s something I’m excited to share… soon. Stay tuned!