Column: The best days of our lives

You never forget your first Little 500 — a lifetime of training and months of preparation culminating in what, for many of us riders, will always be remembered as one of the best days of our lives. As you walk around the track, shoulder to shoulder with your teammates  it’s impossible to not take in the moment and realize the magnitude of what you’re about to undertake. You and 131 other riders from 32 other teams battle it out for every inch of 50.98 miles; there truly is nothing like it.

Up to this point, the race was just some abstract, far-off concept. In that instance, however, reality strikes you harder than a gusting headwind down the backstretch.

Memories of countless hours spent watching race tape come to life in the hopes that you, too, will be able to do something memorable. You walk through turn four, seeing the finish line for the first time and visualize lap 200 — longing with every fiber in your body to speed across that narrow, white barrier to victory with arms raised.

After the prerace festivities, it’s show time. The focus is on your strategy, positioning, breathing and the wheel in front of you. People will ask after it’s all over if you saw them or heard their cheers, but for upward of two hours the only things you notice are on the track. One split-second lapse and your day is over. Race day is undoubtedly a physical gauntlet, but more grueling is the mental toll it takes on you.

The organized chaos that takes place during the Little 500 is impossible to put into words. Thirty-three riders constantly jockeying for position, planning their next attack and trying to anticipate their competitors’ moves. Ninety-nine other riders, prepared at any second to sprint across the track in the event of a crash, trying to spin their legs and stay relaxed amid all the energy and emotion. The coaches are just trying to make sense of it all, while the mechanics frantically swap seat posts and check chain tension. With all that can possibly go wrong on race day, it’s amazing that anyone makes it to the finish line in one piece.

But therein lies the beauty of this beast known as the Little 500. No matter what happens, despite all the madness, someone will always have the cards dealt in their favor. Play those cards right, and realize a dream that few will ever know. It is that dream, that one ultimate goal, that gets you out of bed for winter morning rides and pushes you through grueling interval workouts. That same dream drives the thousands of fans every year and will forever keep the spirit and tradition of the Little 500 alive.