Honor the Jersey

I’ve lived in Alberta for 9 years – each of them a racing year.

 

Each year brings with it many races. Some are won and more often than not - some are lost. One thing is usually a common theme, you never show up to do anything but your best. In a sense, that means you never show up to do anything but “win”, although winning has its own definition on every race day. Sometimes it’s a win to win, sometimes it’s a goal, a personal battle, or a personal best. The spirit never changes.

 

As the years come and go, I’ve raced a lot – some years as much as 30 days by the time Road, Mountain, and Cyclocross total up. And every year, I take note as the Provincial Championships come and go.

 

Provincials are special in Alberta. I think it’s done right - for whatever reason, there is an aura of prestige around the races. Maybe I have noticed this coming from Saskatchewan, where the fields were smaller and there was no Jersey to be worn all next season. Maybe the need for one uniting day in the race calendar, where racing priorities and calendars converge. In Alberta, racers care about provincials. And when people care, it always brings out the best.

 

It’s a darn hard race to win. Every year I have tried over multiple disciplines, and every year seen someone win who has truly had their best and most deserving day. I remember Jesse Collins in Road 2007 (in tears with happiness), Tim Heemskerk repeatedly in Cross (straight up unbeatable), Sam Amberiadis and his MTB streak of late (impressive consistency and ability to peak). Every year trying, every year legitimately beaten by someone better on the day. In 9 years of continually trying at all disciplines, I had yet to win a Provincial Championship. Every time, stumped by someone riding better. I was starting to develop a bit of a complex…

 

This year, I had a chance at MTB and really wanted it. On paper the course, fitness and timing were perfect. On the day, it almost didn’t happen – again, someone else showed up with their A-game. Perseverance, plain stupid determination, one last-lap gamble, and a sliver of luck came together to redeem a year of solid riding, when I thought it was turning into another day like the rest. Never have I been more relieved and ecstatic with a victory – and a surprisingly emotional response even after weeks of anticipating the day, it had finally come.

 

There must be a bit of magic within that Provincial Champion’s Jersey, which has motivated so many before - and will hopefully keep meaning something special among all those other races, each year.