By Beth Zagurski

Athlete:  (AHA definition)  One who participates in organized team or individual sports that requires regular competition against others as a core component and places a high value on excellence and achievement , requiring some form of systematic training (usually intense).

I toe up to the start line, still, waiting. The pressure to perform pounding in my chest and swirling in my gut. Pop! The gun goes off and I accelerate with 7 other girls in hopes of making it back first.

I rarely did.

I usually toggled between 2nd and 3rd place, feeling like a disappointment to the team. It would take all my effort to achieve first loser, often peeing myself with anxiety as I ran. This was my first significant experience with organized sport.

My mother enrolled me in sports when I was in elementary school. I was on a few softball teams, one basketball team, and spent each summer in swimming lessons. I am fairly sure the activities were to wear me out and provide her with some much needed alone time. I also danced, taking lessons from age 4 to 21. Dance was considered more an art than a sport in that era.

High school track was the first sport I chose and actually tried to do well in. Plus, I enjoyed running during my free time. What I didn’t enjoy was feeling like my performance could jeopardize others. That thought caused such dread I deemed all team sports stupid and for hairy Neanderthals.

I entered young adulthood with competing desires to take care of my firstborn and contribute financially to the household. I solved that problem by calling on my dance experience and applying at a local gym to be a group exercise instructor. Gyms always need positions filled, so it wasn’t long before I added personal training to my resume. From 1990 to the present, I have instructed anywhere from 5-17 group exercise classes per week.

Teaching a variety of group exercise classes required many hours of practice to choreograph and practice cueing. First it was low impact aerobics, then step aerobics, then Tae-Bo…well you get it if you have ever been a gym junkie. My training in at least 16 different styles of exercise from yoga to water fitness to kettlebells has taken years to achieve. I have held multiple national industry certifications, spending thousands of dollars for all. But, NEVER, did I consider myself an athlete. I considered myself a professional exerciser.

Running has been in the background. It has been like an old friend, sometimes falling out of touch, but always there and ready to resume relations. A weekly outdoor running practice prompted me to start to enter races again in my late 20’s. Why not enter some races if I was already running consistently?  Competing actually felt good because it was just me, no team. I never placed in the 5ks, but I started to place in longer distances.

We didn’t have cross country in high school, so I ran track middle distance. It turns out my body is built for the long, endless hauls. I used to have a couple shoeboxes overflowing with medals and race bibs from 5ks, 10ks, and other types of running races over the years. The boxes were disposed of during our multiple family moves. The evidence of any athleticism disposed of.

The inclination to be outside goes well beyond running. A fascination with the natural world is part of my genetic makeup. Picture an eight-year-old girl as a budding explorer, making adventure in a trailer park, splashing through the creek and digging through bluffs for hidden treasure. The longing for the outdoors is always present. Oh! And bike riding. What a sense of freedom and the thrill of speed!  This passion was reignited in 2000 when I became JG Spinning certified.

Initially, the thought of spending an hour on an indoor bike, going nowhere, was as close to torture as I could imagine. The expected boredom was assuaged by custom made playlists and the simplicity of the exercise. Add some resistance, find a good cadence, work hard. I had learned this form of exercise was the brainchild of riding on a “trainer”. This was all new to me as I had never raced on bikes before. Spinning classes became part of my teaching schedule at a minimum of 5 times per week. It seemed to me if I was spinning on a “trainer” I should try to ride a real bike again!

Scanning the garage sale ads (yes this was early internet times!) I found an old Schwinn racing bike for the right price. I paid no mind to the size. I would just slam the seat down to fit my 5’3” body on an XL frame. The new bike was outfitted with a hand me down child carrier, and I was back in the saddle. A woman who regularly took my class signed up for a century ride and encouraged me to sign up too. We became training partners, spending time with the biking club on the weekends. A few guys in the club took pity on me and advised me to get the right size bike. I invested in an entry level road bike and learned having the right size equipment makes a huge difference.

My friend and I continued to ride and train, leading me to complete my first ever bike race, a century! Was I an athlete now?  No, the word never entered my mind.

My recreational sports have now expanded to mountain biking, gravel biking, stand up paddle board (SUP), kayaking, hiking, and indoor rock climbing. If there is movement specific ADD, I have it! My motto has been “Let’s do ALL the things!”  It is in that spirit I leapt on the invitation from a mountain biking friend to try an Adventure Race. My first race was a 24 hour race called the Hogback in Tennessee. The highlights were white water rafting “on the bubble,” night riding in the rain, and learning to hate the word “re-entrant”. I loved every second of it.

Since then, I have done 10 hour, 24 hour, and 72 hour races. My racing resume is in infancy and my training for adventure racing is rich. This type of sport allows me to draw on my affinity for the natural world, hiking, biking, paddling, and learning—learning new skills (navigation, am I right??) and redefining what it means to be part of a team. AR on AR became the top of my YouTube Feed. I did a binge buy on navigation books leading off with Squiggly Lines. My weekly run plan includes running with a loaded pack. Trail rides have the added challenge of blocking around 25% of my view. Chafing is now a leading concern along with wondering what the tipping point is in Mountain Dew consumption during a race.

Funny. I call Adventure Racing a sport. I participate in it. But, I still was not calling myself an athlete. Recounting the combined experience of 40 years of running, 30+ years experience of group exercise teaching and fitness coaching, 25 years of competitive bike riding, 8 years of SUP, and lifelong exploring, I have never considered myself an athlete.

How much more evidence does one need?

It turns out I didn’t need evidence. I needed someone to lay it out in plain language for me. Adventure Racing and perimenopause came into my life at the same time. Racing while your hormones are throwing their last rave is not what anyone would consider a good time. Also, who wants to wear the fading pinkish “M” while pretending to be a badass racer?  Luckily, some women are pushing racing and menopause to the starting line. Roar by Dr Stacy Sims was the first book I read that was specific to sport and women in all stages of reproductive life. Selene Yaeger co-wrote the book with her and has an informative podcast called Hit Play not Pause.  It was through these two outlets I heard over and over again that women who do what I do are athletes.

I am an athlete.

I have been an athlete for most of my life.

Whew, let that sink in.

Claiming the identity of athlete has made an extraordinary difference in my mindset. I approach eating, training, skills building, and equipment research from a whole new perspective. The culmination of the squirrel’s approach to outdoor recreation has pointed me perfectly to adventure racing. Calling myself an athlete with the time earned gift of emotional maturity has helped me overcome fears of letting down the team. Trust me. You will not be part of a team if you suck as a teammate or if you are an arrogant diva.

The aspect of being part of a team has surprisingly been one of my favorite parts of adventure racing. Every person on the team gets to offer their own special talents and gifts, from being a good timekeeper to being a pack mule. Everyone experiences highs and lows, hopefully in complementary ways. The unique dynamics of an adventure racing team allows the novice to expert to all have a valuable role to play.

It took me a few races to feel like I wasn’t just running, biking, and paddling along my team— Misguided. But now, I am appropriately called Team Mother. The person who reminds everyone to eat, change socks, apply sunscreen, and gently (okay, loudly) encourages my teammates. The skills are coming. It will take time and experience to be able to contribute meaningfully to navigation and strategy. In my former identity as a professional exerciser, I would have felt not worthy of being on Team Misguided. However, as a proclaimed ATHLETE, I am willing to work hard for my teammates, and for the sport of Adventure Racing, as long as they will have me.