Transcriber: Stella Missaoui Reviewer: Annet Johnson
I'm pedaling through the heat and humidity of Kentucky.
I’ve been racing my bicycle across the country for 15 days
from the Pacific coast in Oregon,
across the Rocky Mountains and the plains to the Appalachian Mountains.
I’ve ridden 3,500 miles; that’s an average of 233 miles per day.
It’s been a heat wave the entire way; most days of it are 106 degrees.
My skin has burned and peeled off twice.
I started endurance racing just over a year ago.
I’m all alone.
The race is self-supported; that means no one can help me along the way.
Wearing the same T-shirt, shorts, and socks that I started in.
I’m living off gas station food, packaged pastries, quarts of milk,
sodas, and candy bars.
In a field of 66, I’m in second place.
I’ve been chasing down the guy in first since Kansas, the halfway point.
He's still 80 miles ahead of me.
I have to start cutting sleep, if I want to catch him.
I’ve been sleeping for five hours a night for the past two weeks in grass fields,
motels, and on the side of the road.
Worked so hard to get here, I have to try to catch him.
The clock never stops.
I still have 736 miles to go through the Appalachian Mountains,
notorious for its steep and punchy climbs.
The riding is relentless.
On night 15, I sleep for three hours under the awning of an elementary school.
On night 16, I sleep for two and a half hours in a grass field.
On night 17, I set my alarm for 20 minutes
and then another 20 minutes because at first I can’t see straight.
(Laughter)
Little do I know at this point,
Steffen, the leader, is less than 20 miles ahead of me.
We both wake up in the middle of the night to continue,
but he’s so disoriented and sleep deprived that he starts riding the route backwards.
(Gasps)
(Laughter)
I ride ten miles forward, he rides ten miles in the wrong direction,
and we cross paths at 3 a.m. in Bumpass, Virginia.
(Laughter)
This is how it happened:
I see a cyclist with bright lights riding towards me in the middle of nowhere,
he sees me, turns around and starts riding next to me, staring straight ahead.
At first, I have no idea who he is.
I think, “Maybe he’s a fan of the race.”
But I look over at him and he’s dirty like me,
and he has all these bags on his bike but he doesn’t say anything.
So I ask him, “What’s your name?”
He says, “Steffen,” and then it clicks.
This is the guy I’ve been chasing for two weeks!
(Laughter)
We still have 130 miles to go and I start sprinting as fast as I can.
When he catches me, I ride harder and harder.
I know I can’t keep this up.
I’m breathing like a train engine, but I don’t care; this is my chance.
The road forks, I turn to the right.
He shouts, “It’s to the left!”
I turn around and catch up with him.
He says, “Let’s talk.”
(Laughter)
I really don’t want to.
(Laughter)
But I say, “Okay.”
He says, “We’ve been battling for two weeks, let’s just finish this together.”
“Together?
I’ve been chasing you for two weeks, this is the best part.
We get to race to the finish!”
And I take off again as fast as I can.
(Applause)
(Cheering)
Six miles down the road, I realized he’s gone.
I dropped him.
I can’t believe it, I could actually win this race.
Then my electronic shifting dies; I’m unable to change gears.
I hide behind the gas station to fix it.
The solution is imperfect, but it worked
and I’m back on my bike with a hundred miles to go.
I stare down the road in deep focus:
“I won’t make any more mistakes, I won’t take any wrong turns,
I won’t get a flat tire.”
I ride through Jamestown and Williamsburg, passing Revolutionary War reenactments
with children playing flutes and snare drums.
(Laughter)
In my sleep deprived state, I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I make it to Yorktown and the Victory Monument and that’s the finish.
There, a dozen or so people are waiting to cheer for me.
I hit the brakes and it’s over;
after 18 days, 10 minutes, and 4,200 miles, I won.
(Applause and cheering)
I'm the first woman and the first American to win this race overall.
(Applause and cheering)
Somebody unfolds a camping chair and hands me a Budweiser.
(Laughter)
I definitely can’t drink it, but it feels really good to sit down.
Two hours later, Steffen makes it to the finish.
He’s toast and so am I.
And at this point, we’re both just happy that it’s over.
In the world of sports, from a very young age,
boys and girls are almost always separated into different categories.
I remember feeling so disheartened when I was ten years old
and learned that I’d never be as strong or fast as the boys,
that I couldn’t play on the same team or race against them.
Ultra endurance racing is unique
because men and women get to compete against each other
and women have the capacity to win overall.
I know this because I've done it, but I'm not the only one.
In 2016, the same year that I won the Trans Am,
Sarah Cooper, a mother of four, won the Race Across the West;
a thousand miles from Oceanside, California to Durango, Colorado.
In 2019, on her first attempt, Fiona Kolbinger won the Trans Continental,
a road race across Europe.
Women have won ultra runs and ultra swims too.
However, in every race I've ever started, dozens of races in the past seven years,
women have always accounted for less than 10% of the entire field.
In the first race I entered, a guy near the start told me the race was really long
and asked if I was really going to make it the whole way.
It was for a 50-mile fat bike race.
(Laughter)
On the day before the Trans Am, a racer asked me what I was doing there.
He told me I wasn't a road racer.
And then on day five of the Trans Am,
another racer told me, if I tried hard and got more experience,
that maybe someday I could actually be good at this.
Someday?
I’m here right now, I don’t want to come back!
I have to win this now!
Personally, comments like these fire me up and motivate me to prove myself.
But it's hard not to let this doubt seep in.
I really only started riding my bike when I was 20 to get to work.
Around that time, I wanted to visit my sisters in Seattle,
but I didn't have the $2.50 for bus fare.
Instead, I rode my bike 50 miles to get there.
It was my first long ride and I remember thinking,
“If I could ride to the next city over, I could ride across the country.”
So that’s what I did!
(Laughter)
I never saw cycling as a sport;
it was a means of transportation, inexpensive travel, and adventure.
I traveled the world by bike for seven years,
before entering my first bikepacking race during a trip.
I was amazed to find out it was something I was actually good at
and it changed my life.
It’s not all about winning.
I love racing.
Competition shines a light on possibilities, helps me push my limits.
More than that, riding distance is the way I connect to the world:
I’m exposed to the elements;
I literally connect the dots over mountains, in between towns;
I see the beauty of the natural world and how people live in it.
There's nothing I'd rather do.
I remember being on a trip and crossing paths with another woman riding solo.
I was so surprised to see that she was alone.
It took me days to realize I was doing the exact same thing.
(Laughter)
It's unusual, but that doesn't mean it's impossible or not safe.
To get to the start of the Trans Am, I rode from home in Anchorage
800 miles to Haines, took the ferry to Bellingham,
and rode another 300 miles to Astoria, Oregon.
People told me that was crazy too.
I rode past glaciers and black bears and bald eagles.
I crossed into Canada and back out again.
The captain of the ferry invited me for a tour of the wheelhouse.
I visited old college professors in Tacoma and family in Portland.
I had to get to the start somehow.
This was my chance to connect Alaska to the lower 48 under my own power.
We need more women showing what’s possible and sharing their stories.
Imagine if we encouraged more women not only to get to the start line,
but to believe that they’re capable of riding long distances,
of taking on challenges, of going on adventures.
Instead of telling yourself you're not good enough, go out and try your hardest.
Find out what you're made of.
If you do that, you'll be an inspiration to everyone around you.
We need role models of all shapes, sizes, colors, and backgrounds.
You don’t have to look like a superhero to be one.
Don’t get me wrong.
Every morning I wake up,
I want to get outside seeing the world from the seat of my bicycle.
It’s not always easy, but it’s never a waste of time.
I’m not saying everyone has to ride ultra distance.
What I am saying is don't let others shut you down with their questions and doubts.
Go after your dreams and goals with urgency,
because you never know where that will lead.
Don’t wait till the timing or plan is perfect because it never will be.
Whether I'm trying to win a race or travel the world by bike,
I’m just grateful that I get to spend time outside.
Thank you.
(Applause and cheering)