REMEMBERING NICOLE
The last time I was in Milwaukee was for a bike race. Actually, it was about two-weeks worth of bike racing. The series was called Superweek, and having to race it was like a prison-sentence in the middle of a gruelling summer of racing. The torture came in various forms: the timing of the race was precisely the period when rest was needed rather than racing; the location- most of the criteriums were staged in seedy areas of town or in small cities within a two-hour drive from Milwaukee that all blended into one after only a few days; and last but not least, the field of women was sparse to say the least, resulting in negative racing that was painful to endure day after day. Don’t get me wrong, the city has some fantastic qualities, but I have to say I was apprehensive to return, in the dead of winter, for a speed skating competition. I’m forever traumatised by Superweek.
Six and a half years have passed since my last foray. Being in Milwaukee brought back memories not so much of the bike racing, but of the people I shared my time with during the races. My cellmates, so to speak. These memories simultaneously make me smile and bring great sadness. Those last two-weeks of Superweek in the summer of 2000 were spent with my friend and teammate, Nicole Reinhart. Only a few months after that time, Nicole competed in the race that ended her life.
Being in Milwaukee brought flashes of Nicole’s brilliant smile, her laugh, her spirit and intensity as an athlete. It also made me think of the time when I convinced Nicole and another teammate, Anna Wilson of Australia, to go skating at the oval on our rest day. I met a speed skater at a picnic one night and mentioned that I used to skate and hoped to return to the ice the following winter. He had a pair of skates that fit me and we made a date on the ice for the following day. It was the first time I would try the ‘klap’ skate and for my teammates, perhaps the first time they ever skated.
I vividly remember Nicole’s determination. I was busy skating laps with Ben that would wreck my back for the next days bike race, and would notice Nicole shuffling along on the outside of the oval. In between our sets of laps, we would help her and Anna move a little bit easier with tips and encouragement. Long after I was finished, unable to skate anymore, Nicole was still out there, shuffling along, determined to skate well with absolutely no experience or obvious ability on the ice. She was so focused and finally, we had to force her to get off because the skating session was over.
That’s just how Nicole was- whatever she did; she was going to do it well, no matter what. Like all high-level athletes, she had tenacity and will to improve that set her apart from mere mortals.
Each day I skated in Milwaukee, I thought of Nicole. That she is no longer alive is a loss to humanity. I often think of Nicole and guiltily realise that my own shift in sport and, in many ways in life, were due to her passing. That tragic September day when she raced her last race was a definite catalyst to my decision to return to the ice. Losing Nicole made me realise life can be very short, so one has to live it with vigour while one can.
I’ve had many races on the ice where I’ve felt her presence with me. On many occasions, Nicole has given me wings. Returning to Milwaukee imprinted her passion, kindness and determination once again into the forefront of my psyche. I feel an urge to do what I do best to the maximum in her honour.
Nicole, I will never forget you, whether it’s on the bike or on the ice. I’m just sad that you’re not here to share these memories with.
