The Cody Chronicles

There I was, a freshman in high school, hopped up on testosterone and youthful ignorance. My first season of cross country had just concluded after a mediocre performance at the district meet that failed to qualify me for state. No one on our boys team qualified. We kinda sucked. Butttt…. we did have one girl qualify – Claire. She was a beast.

Somewhere along the line, one of my teammates decided that we needed to go watch the state meet and cheer Claire on. Reasonable proposal – I was in. Then the boys decided that simply driving there wasn’t cool enough – we needed to ride our bikes there. Our school was just shy of 100 miles away from the state meet. I had never biked more than 10 miles at one time before. Of course I am invincible as all freshman are and I decided “what the hell, I’m going to do it” much to my mom’s dismay. The meet was on a Saturday in early November. After school on the Friday before the meet, me and 5 of my teammates loaded up our hodge podge assortment of bicycles, drove about 30 minutes to the trailhead, and set off on our journey.

Here was the plan: Bike 40 miles Friday night, camp, then get up and ride the remaining 35 miles to the state meet venue. One of my teammates parents was driving to the campsite and was going to have everything set up for us, including cooking dinner. To us, the plan was foolproof, I mean, we ran hundreds of miles over the season, surely we could bike 75 over two days. Piece of cake.

Wrong.

Things started off great. We were making great time on the crushed gravel trail, laughing and bumping to some R&B on the JBL speaker. We were kings. This was the definition of freedom and I felt it coursing through my veins. I had never been on a trip like this before and it lit a fire in me. But as night fell and the temps sank, that fire dwindled. Like an idiot, I set out in shorts and a T-shirt, sending my warm clothes ahead to the campsite. It was 60 degrees and sunny when we left so I was fine, but the trail followed a river and once the sun set, the temps dipped into the low 40s. I was frigid and had no dexterity in my fingers. My ass hurt so bad, as it had never sat in a bike saddle that long. My sense of freedom and bliss was gone and I wanted nothing more than to stop biking and go to sleep.

But we still had 10 miles to go.

Spirits were low. Me and two of my teammates were dragging while the other three were trying to be nice and wait for us, but I could tell they were getting frustrated. Decisions were made. My two struggling teammates decided to wait by a road crossing and have the parents at the campsite come pick them up. My other three friends were planning to speed ahead and get to the campsite. I was stuck in limbo, not wanting to give up but also wanting nothing more than to feel my fingers again.

I decided that I was going to finish, no matter how miserable I was. I did not know it then, but that decision made by the 14yr old version of myself changed the trajectory of my future. In that moment, I chose between the easy, comfortable, and boring path, and the badass, never give up, gonna make a lot of cool stories path.

But those next 10 miles still sucked. Now all alone, my quads were anchors, my fingers were ice cubes, and negative thoughts filled my head. I had a flashlight taped perpendicular to my handle bars, and my whole existence was limited to its cone of light. The mile markers ticked by. 8 miles to go, now 7, now 6. The darkness kept getting darker. The cold, colder. My sprits, shittier. I was literally breaking down in tears but I wouldn’t let myself stop. The next 30 minutes were the hardest of my life but I eventually made it to the campsite, shoved food down my face, and went to sleep wrapped up in 5 blankets.

Those 10 miles alone in the dark changed me forever. Looking back now, I realize I was blessed with a pretty awesome upbringing. I never knew hardship or pain. I always had all my needs provided for and was surrounded by friends and family who supported me and picked me up when I would fall. And while that is a blessing, it kept me soft and sheltered. Out there, alone on that trail, something inside of me changed forever. I became drawn to the pain. I now seek out opportunities to suffer and push the boundaries of my physical and mental self. The seeds were planted for what has now grown into an insatiable thirst for adventure.

All because I chose to not give up in 9th grade.