March 22, 2013


Ian’s and my own bike outside of a closed up factory. Detroit.

Today is the day I stopped being a bicycle courier. I didn’t stop because you can’t make any money, I didn’t stop because of the rain, I didn’t stop because sometimes I have nightmares of radios and car accidents, I didn’t stop because sometimes it makes me a bitter asshole, I didn’t stop because someone else told me to and I definitely didn’t stop because I bought a suit and figured out how the stock exchange really works.

I stopped working on the bike because working on the bike showed me that I have potential to be a really good bicycle racer. How good a bicycle racer is yet to be seen, but I can’t find out until I really try it out. If you understand how training for racing works, you’ll understand that riding 24 hours a week, just for work, and then being expected to race for 3.5 hours with guys who really train, who can afford bikes, nutrition, rest days… is a tall order. Let alone can you finish with the main pack, or maybe even try to win. And then you’re supposed to do that twice, or three times in the same weekend…. and go back to slinging packages the next day.

I stopped being a bicycle courier to see if I can fully realize what I can do on a bike. It’s going to give me the chance to explore a few other avenues that have been simmering too long on back burners, whether in coffee, photography or any number of other projects I’ve been holding onto since I was in school.

The photo of Ian and my bike in Detroit would never have happened if I weren’t a bicycle courier, if I didn’t go to the CMWCs in Chicago and if this were the only moment and memory bicycle couriering left me, I’d be happy. But I’ve been left with five years filled with photos, friends, stories, trips and just moments.

Love what you do, respect what you do, remember where you came from, and don’t let assholes in elevators get you down.

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