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Cyclists pack their bags and get dropped off at the airport dozens of times per year as traveling is part of our sport. Flying out of Nice-Côte d’Azur airport so often, I had my rituals of how to check in, get through security, and stay comfortable while waiting for the plane to board. In early August 2004 my flight plan was from Nice, France to Athens, Greece and everything felt familiar as I was just on another flight to another bike race.
As the plane gained altitude, we broke through the clouds and a brilliant ray of sunshine came through my window which felt like a tap on the shoulder. It was the moment that I realized that I wasn’t just going to another bike race but instead was headed to the Olympic Games and was about to become an Olympian. I was overcome by emotion as it has been a goal of mine for a long time, and it was about to become reality.
Stepping off the plane and walking through the airport in Athens everywhere you looked you saw something related to the Olympic Games and you could feel the excitement in the air.
Before entering the Olympic Athletes Village I had to pick up my Olympic credential. I had to fill out tons of forms prior to my arrival but must admit I was nervous that I had made a mistake on the administration side and would be denied entry.
After a few nervous minutes after handing over my passport and watching several people enter my name in their computer and check a few lists, my picture was taken, and I was handed my credential and lanyard that would be my all-access pass to the Olympic experience. Now all I had to do was find the Team USA Cycling house in the village.
The hub of the Athletes Village is the main cafeteria. This took some navigational recon the first few days as there were so many choices that you needed to see all the options prior to piling food onto your plate.
The cafeterias were also a great place to meet athletes from other sports and trade pins. This was my first Olympics, so I went all in with the pin trading game and came away with a nice collection over the few days that I had in the village. Each interaction was not just about the pin itself, but the story of the person you were trading with. I wore them proudly on my lanyard and it is one of my most valued possessions to this day.
As cyclists, we were allowed to exit the village to go training on the surrounding roads outside the village. Both the men’s and women’s teams trained together, so it was pretty cool to move everywhere as a team. Some riders elected to ride in their normal trade team clothing for training, but I was so proud of making the Olympic team that I wore the USA kit every day with pride.
Since the roads around the village were limited, we often encountered other teams while out training. We would wave to them and perhaps have a quick exchange of pleasantries in passing but it was a bit awkward. Of course, many of these other riders were friends or teammates the rest of the year, but for these few days they were the competition.
We were allowed to do a full recon of the road course a few days prior to the race with closed roads for about an hour. The vibe around the start/finish was jovial, but it was a strange feeling pedaling around the course, which in a few days would select the riders worthy of an Olympic medal.
Race day arrived and even though I was excited, I wasn’t very nervous. I was never a one-day specialist, so didn’t put any pressure on myself. My focus was more of participation rather than placing and I was going to just go with the flow, which I did for most of the race.
There are no race radios in the Olympic road race and communication was difficult due to the noise going through the feed zones, but with about two laps to go, I became aware that there were two guys up the road with a sizable advantage. Many riders from many different countries chipped in to close the gap, but the 2 riders in front were too strong.
The only thing that matters in the Olympics are medals, so after cresting the climb for the final time the racing soon became a race for the bronze medal and a real tactical battle started.
Suddenly I was no longer interested in just participating in the race as there was a bronze medal up for grabs and I wanted to win it! There was a lull in the group and Michael Berry from Canada attacked hard with a few kms to go. I figured this was my chance, so I jumped on his wheel. For a moment I thought that this move might work and we had caught the sprinters off guard but turned around to see everyone on my wheel.
This provoked another lull in the group as we had plenty of good sprinters in the group and they were just trying to save as much energy as possible. Then Axel Merckx attacked hard up a slight rise, and no one reacted. This was a similar move to the one that I had just made with Michael but could tell by his pedal stroke that Axel would be hard to bring back.
The final km was a blur as now we could not only see Axel, but also Paulo Bettini and Sergio Paulinho (eventual gold and silver medalists) slightly further up the road. The sprinters attempted to maneuver themselves into position and close the gap, but it was too late.
In the end, I had wound up just participating in the race, finishing in 29th place. Axel was a good friend of mine and I remember watching him tower above Paulo and Sergio on the podium. They all looked so happy and elegant up there with olive branch wreaths on their heads and medals around their neck. The course around Athens had selected the three riders worthy of becoming Olympic medalists and the rest of us could only dream about what that must feel like.