Last November, I wrote a post called Go Fat Girl about the trying new things — especially hard things — and how we can surprise ourselves when we put our minds and bodies to it. Now I’ve got a second part to that story.

Shortly after Iceman, Jeremy and I signed up for back-to-back races in April. During the very snowy winter, April seemed faaaaaar away.

We rode outside when we could (Jeremy more than me) and when it finally started warming up in March, our rides got longer. I had a couple setbacks — a mole removal in January that limited my mobility and a nasty cold at the beginning of April — that kept me from training as hard as I wanted, but when April 11 arrived, we felt ready.

You want me to bike how many miles?

In the biking community, there’s a tradition to ride the number of miles equal to your age you’re turning on your birthday. Jeremy found a gravel race called Dirty 30 on his birthday that also had a 50-mile option, so he could achieve his 45 miles. Since it wasn’t MY birthday, I opted for the 16-mile distance. Most people were riding gravel bikes, which looks like a road bike with wider tires that wider have more grip, but I rode my mountain bike and Jeremy rode his beloved single-speed fat bike. By race day, only six women were signed up in the mountain bike category, which meant I had a pretty good shot at making the podium.

Not only did I make the podium — I was first in my category! What makes this even more exciting is the top three finishers were within 16 seconds of each other. (Jeremy also won his category: men’s 50-mile fat bike!)

Digging deep

Because your time doesn’t start until you cross the official start line, you could go the entire race without actually seeing the people who are at your same pace. There were times on long stretches of dirt roads that the closest riders were half a mile in front of or behind me. And THOSE are the moments when you really have to dig deep to keep pushing. I’d tell myself that I can go faster, so I’d push a little harder. I’d remind myself that if I was riding with Jeremy — who rides faster than me so I just lock in and try to keep up — we’d be going faster.

So I pushed. I dug deeper. I focused on my breathing so I could keep climbing the hills and not have to walk.

Those small moments, when it was just me and my motivation, determination, competitiveness, whatever you want to call it, are what made the difference.

Plot twist

Hang on, I’m making a writing analogy!

I started writing It’s Always Been You in December 2022. I was 3/4 of the way through the first draft when I took a sabbatical in June 2023. It’s the book that, in November 2024, my agent and I decided I would focus on for our first submission to publishers. I spent all summer 2025 finishing it, then fall 2025 revising. Last month we agreed it needs another round, and let me tell you, while I absolutely agree I can make it better, the news hit me hard.

These aren’t little tweaks to strengthen plot points. I’m shifting the importance of characters, changing the general tone in some parts, and — wait for it — digging deep to bring the emotion that I know is buried in there. That’s buried in me, but always takes revisions to drag out, kicking and screaming.

I’ve spent time brainstorming with other writers, reading books in the same genre to get a clearer idea of how and where to really amplify the tension, but the actual writing is on me. Alone on that dirt road where it’s easy to let up, to not push, to walk up that hill without trying my hardest.

It’s scary. It’s exhausting. It’s really easy to just not.

Finding my why

That’s when I have to remind myself why I’m doing this. Why I ride 21 miles in 17mph winds to prep for an 18-mile race. Why I get up early every morning to write. Why I read my manuscript for the 15th time when some days I’d rather do anything else.

I’m a writer. I love telling stories, and I especially love hearing from readers after they’ve finished my books. If I want to keep feeling that rush, I can’t give up.

As for mountain biking, I love being outside. I enjoy challenging myself and pushing my body to do hard things.

This past weekend we competed in another race, Barry-Roubaix, one of the largest gravel races in the country. My goals were different — get a better time than last year and don’t crash, especially as the week’s rain flooded the course and turned the dirt roads to mud — but my determination was the same. I finished in the top half of my category, but what made me the happiest was while waiting in line to clean our bikes (it was THAT muddy), a woman told me that I helped her on the hills because she followed my line.

I still consider myself a newbie in the biking world, but perhaps it’s time to shed that label — at least until the next challenge.