Once upon a time, I was a soccer player and way too busy — and self-absorbed — to consider my mom’s attempts to get me out on a mountain bike.

She’d share stories of conquering technical climbs, the thrills of twisty turning descents and always try to lure me in to consider giving it a try.

I would take one look at her bloodied, bruised legs and just think to myself, “Moms aren’t supposed to look like that!” and head out to soccer practice.

Well, fast-forward a couple of years into college and two ACL surgeries later, I found myself on a bicycle rehabbing my knee. At that point, I started to warm a little more to the idea and one day Mom asked again and I finally succumbed and said yes.

On my very first ride, I experienced the thrill of winding through piney single track, worked on conquering a root-filled climb, and punched a hole in the back of my calf compliments of my front chain ring.

What my mom didn’t realize was she was setting me off on a path that would lead me to where I am today — racing enduro at the pro level.

Enduro is a race format that is quickly gaining popularity all over the world and it is where I found my place in competitive cycling. I describe it as the perfect middle point between downhill and cross-country riding. The most basic definition is: timed downhills and untimed uphills.

The races that happen here on the East Coast through the Eastern States Cup or Triple Crown Series are one-day events that have anywhere between three and five race stages in a day, with the untimed transfers taking you from the finish of one stage to the start of the next.

Depending on the event location, the transfers could require pedaling up and over to the start of the next stage, or could consist of using the chairlift to get from the bottom of the mountain back to the top.

I like to refer to enduro racing as the lazy person’s cross-country. While there is no question you must be fit to have a shot at the podium, anyone can head out and have a blast at an enduro race regardless of your level of fitness.

But I think the main reason I love enduro racing is that it doesn’t actually feel like racing. While everyone is competitive with each other, the community and camaraderie that build throughout the course of a weekend are unlike any other form of competition I’ve experienced. In the end, it’s like heading out for a ride with your friends — you chat and take your time on the climb and then you do everything you can to beat your buddies down to the bottom.

If you have ever wanted to give mountain bike racing a try, I highly suggest you check out an enduro race near you. For more information, check out easternstatescup.com.


Clarissa Finks lives in Waterbury Center.

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