Rebecca Rusch: Without a Map

WITHOUT A MAP REBECCA RUSCH IS AN ULTRA-ENDURANCE TERRAIN CYCLIST, AND READY TO TAKE ON ANYTHING, OR GO ANYWHERE.

BY MEREDITH RICHARDSON

RRebecca Rusch swore early in her career as an ultra-endurance terrain cyclist that any race involving snow was off limits. She doesn’t do well in the cold, so the idea of riding her mountain bike 350 miles across the frozen Alaskan wilderness in the Iditarod Trail Invitational was a no-go. Until she did it and won.

“I hadn’t really gone outside of my comfort zone in awhile,” Rusch says. “I think I was missing that feeling of doing a really big expedition. Something that involved planning, made me really scared, and made my hands sweat. It took some serious convincing for sure.”

Her goal entering the 2019 race was to finish with all her fingers and toes. All digits intact, true to her world champion form, Rusch was the first woman to cross the finish line and did so in a record setting 3 1/2 days.

“It was a success in that I finished and didn't lose any fingers, but I was a mess afterward. I felt like I really put myself in danger by not being more prepared,” Rusch explains. “So I vowed to go back one more time and clean it up. I wanted to do it in style. I wanted to do it better.”

For most people, enduring physical pain in freezing temperatures by choice sounds like selftorture, but professional athletes are vested with a type of amnesia akin to that following natural childbirth. Pain is dulled with relief and joyendorphins on arrival. Therefore, in 2020, better prepared with proper training, detailed gear lists, previous trail knowledge and husband by her side, Rusch was ready to ride the Iditarod right.. Mother Nature laughed, as she often does, at human plans.

“She unleashed on the Iditarod trail this year and it was super hard conditions,” Rusch says. “Snow every day, 40 mile- per-hour winds, and at times, it was 50-below. The trail was blown so badly, we walked probably 150 of the 350 miles. It simply wasn't rideable.”

Complicating evil elements, a navigational error in the first 2 hours set Rusch dangerously off course and isolated. She recovered, but the mistake doubled her 2019 record time when she crossed the finish line, seven days later.

‘It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Rusch admits. “ But I was prepared, and it made me realize the places I can go and survive on my bike. The experience made me realize what's possible. In some ways, I loved it.”

Experts and audiences alike are fascinated by the mystery of what motivates uber-athletes like Rusch. Often, environmental advantage plays a role in early development. There were no mountains where Rusch was raised by her single, working-class, mother in Downer’s Grove, Illinois. Following her father’s death as a pilot in Vietnam, her childhood was spent in suburban Chicago but for summer camping road trips with her mom and sister.. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so we’d camp. We’d go to national parks and I loved it,” Rusch recalls. “I was always a curious little dirt bag kid, you know? Playing in the sandbox and camping in the backyard, wanting to explore what was around the next corner. I was sort of born with it, this outdoor spirit..”

AFTER SHE SWORE EARLY IN HER CAREER ANY RACE INVOLVING SNOW WAS OFF LIMITS, REBECCA RUSCH LATER WON THE IDITAROD TRAIL INVITATIONAL.

IN ALASKA

Rusch found her stride as an athlete on the high school cross-country team. Whether on the track or in the woods, running pushed her physical limits while she explored the world at a fast pace. One cross-country sport led to another, and Rusch found herself chasing athletic conquests on the open road.

“I lived out of my car for years, rock climbing and hiking wherever I could. For a long time, I was nomadic in California and Utah,” she says, “but once I visited Idaho, I never left. I connected with this place.” 15- plus years later, Rusch is still rooted in Ketchum, her ultimate playground.

“I'm kind of like a cat with nine lives as far as the sports I’ve done.” Rusch says. “Rock climbing, biking, running; the common theme has always been adventure and exploration. That’s why Idaho suits my personality. I was that little kid who camped in the backyard, and now my backyard is just a lot bigger.”

The world, however, is suddenly no one’s big playground. Disconnected from the reality of the world for weeks during the Iditarod, Rusch and her husband exited the Alaskan wilds mid- March to find the world locked-down in a global pandemic.

“We heard inklings at the finish line about Covid,” Rusch says. “It wasn’t until we flew back through Seattle, saw the airport and then flew home, that reality sunk in.” “FOR MOST OF MY CAREER, I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT, ‘I’M TRAINING FOR THE NEXT EVENT.’ NOW, I FEEL LIKE ALL OF THESE RACES HAVE BEEN TRAINING ME FOR LIFE, TO

JUST KEEP PUSHING FORWARD.”

The hometown they’d left at the beginning of March was now a bleak and empty semblance of all America: streets emptied, storefronts closed and people she knew distanced and dawning masks and gloves. Blaine County had become a national hotspot for Covid-19. Rusch says they went from one kind of a survival mode into another.

“Honestly, my initial reaction was,’ I just want to go back on the Iditarod trail!’ That was so much easier by comparison,” she says. “The goal there is getting from point A to point B. You work hard, you keep moving during the day, you take care of yourself, and eventually you get to the finish line. But, there’s no trail map for this kind of thing.”

The current challenges presented to every small business owner have forced Rusch and her team at her Be Good Foundation to pivot their purpose. Originally aimed at enriching communities through bicycles to create global change and empowerment, the Idaho-based foundation is shifting gears to raise money for Covid-19 relief efforts by putting bikes in the hands of essential workers who need transportation. How does a non-profit that normally fundraises through large bike races adapt? Forget static Zoom meetings. Ride the miles digitally!

Events that once enlisted families, pro-gravel racers and pain-cave addicts grinding wheels up Idaho peaks to raise money are now pedaling worldwide in participants’ backyards and living rooms. The Giddy Up for Good Challenge is the virtual race anecdote to live events cut from the Be Good Foundations’ 2020 calendar. Mileage is logged digitally from personal GPS units and uploaded directly to the event page over Memorial Day weekend. Different challenge tiers welcome all abilities to run or bike, including 5,000 vertical feet to the ‘Queens Everest’ challenge.

“I'm doing an Everest attempt which is 29,029 feet in one day,” Rusch says. “I will be riding up and down Trail Creek summit until I reach my pledge goal.”

The digital race keeps people active and safe while allowing them to make a difference. This solution also fulfills the goals of the Be Good Foundation and Rebecca Rusch’s purpose in founding it. Isolation has caused her to seriously reflect on four decades of being an endurance athlete and what comes next.

“I’m trying to draw on my endurance, my athletic experience and ask myself, ‘what lessons have I learned?’” Rusch says. “For most of my career, I’ve always thought, ‘I’m training for the next event.’ Now, I feel like all of these races have been training me for life, to just keep pushing forward.”

Even without a map, it’s good advice.