I don't recall the name of that first race in California but I do remember
it was a 40 mile circuit along the Santa Monica beach and the entree fee was $10.
Cash prizes were available for the top 10, and at least 200 people entered.
Oh, and I got a free Discovery jersey since the team had just abandoned
and they were giving away old jerseys since Discovery was sponsoring the race.

--- *** --- *** --- *** ---

This was my one shot. Top 10 or I would have to sell the Trek for some cash.

Start of the Race. That's me right in the front.



And that's me making the first attack!



Not the smartest idea I have ever had.
The peloton quickly put me back into my place.



Eventually a 11 man breakaway did form, I was kicking myself.



But there was nothing I could have done, the race carried on.
And with 6 miles to go, riders in the peloton started attacking.
Everyone around me started to say we weren't going to catch the breakaway.



Evaluating my options, I decided I couldn't wait to test my luck in a sprint.
So with my career on the line I was off!
I needed to pass at least 4 riders to move into the top 10.



As I broke away from the peloton I didn't look back.
By the time I reached the banner for 1 kilometer to go,
I had caught 11th place and had my sights set on the top 10.



Up front there was already a winner and the $750 grand prize was gone,
at least he could afford a new jersey to replace a non-existent T-Mobile team
as they too had abandoned along with Discovery at the end of 2007.
But back to my issue at hand... I was running out time.



I knew where I had to be so I just locked in and was in full sprint.
Nobody in the peloton could keep up with me as I went through my gears.
And before I knew it I had passed 2 more riders in the final meters to take 9th!
My prize... $150. And the satisfaction that I could actually compete.

I certainly couldn't live off my winning from my first race here,
so I went on a job search to get enough money to have a bed to sleep on.
It didn't take me long to land a job as waiter in a sports bar downtown.

I had to work for tips but at least the people in Los Angeles are good tippers.
Cycling went to the wayside for the next months as I had to work weekends to
just make enough money to pay for this one-room apartment I was renting.

Occasionally I would find time to fit in a race to my schedule and
top 10's started to become routine but I couldn't crack the top 5.

So I continued to make a living by being a waiter during the winter of 2008.
Besides the money and endless supply of food I got while working at the bar,
I also came to befriended another waiter that worked there named Kyle.

He was a sports marketing major graduate from USC that couldn't get a
foothold in the tough job market of sports, leaving him with a useless degree.

You have probably already put two and two together and assumed Kyle
helped me out, but it wasn't that simple as he was reluctant to risk his own
funds to help me pursue a dream in cycling considering my past.

But knowing that Kyle could immensely help me, I came up with a proposal.