My Sparkly Pink Bike

My ultimate bike would be light pink -- the color of the breast cancer ribbon. The top tube would feature that ribbon with an outline of silver rhinestone glitter paint. I would use the same sparkly paint to write -- strength and hope -- in cursive script and to decorate the frame. Then, I'd add a row of real rhinestones to all the tubes. My seat would be a matching light pink with rhinestones instead of nails along the back of the seat. Finally, I'd sign the frame on the chainstay. You might think it's a little over the top, but it represents who I am and what I believe. Let me explain:

I got my first race bike when I was 12 years old. I loved the freedom and going farther than my parents thought was normal. Few people would believe it now, but I was intimidated by bike racing; it was not a -- girl -- sport, and I was a very image-conscious teenager. Add in the fact that I was scared of the peloton (the main pack of riders in a road race) and it took me years to get up the nerve to try a bike race.

Once I took the plunge, I was hooked. I didn't race because I thought I was going to do something great. I just wanted to push myself and see how far I could go. Racing has taught me that incredible things come from hard work and dedication. I never wanted to look back with any regret, so I focused on doing everything I could to be the best I could possibly be. Some people ask why I was so single-minded, but that sense of dedication allowed me to accomplish more than I ever imagined. I felt it the first time I won a National Championship, and it was the same feeling when I stood on the podium at the Olympics and the World Championships. Those feelings of achievement don't come from the medals; they come from the hard work and perseverance that I learned in order to get there.

I'm 34 years old and I keep trying to retire, but something pulls me back to the bike. I love to race and I love being out on the road, pushing myself and feeling the wind at my back. I want to help younger girls to achieve their athletic dreams and I want to empower women to accomplish goals that they didnt think were possible. Theres so much strength in recognizing your ability to overcome setbacks and roadblocks. Cycling was a vehicle to find myself -- and one thing I found is that women can be competitive and feminine. If I want to wear lipstick or worry about how my bike matches my jersey or if my shoes clash, there's nothing wrong with that. Women don't need to look like men on their bikes.

Now that I've achieved my cycling goals, I want to connect my success with causes that are close to my heart. Last year I helped to organize a fundraiser for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation in my hometown of Ventura, California. My Mom, both grandmothers and my aunt have all had the disease. It runs in my family. My Mom underwent chemo and radiation in 2004 and has recovered very well. She recently completed her first triathlon since her diagnosis, and I'm so proud of her. I want to spread the message about the BCRF and to show people how being healthy can help the battle against cancer. My plan is to organize more fundraisers and ultimately launch a development team that races in support of the BCRF.

Which brings me back to the sparkly pink bike. Watching my Mom and my aunt deal with their treatments made me realize that recovery hinges on the will to fight. I've always dreamed of designing a bike that would raise money and support the cause. Strength and hope carried me through my racing career and taught me that I could overcome even the toughest obstacles in my path. Cycling proved that I could be tough, competitive and feminine at the same time. That pink bike is the perfect symbol of all those lessons -- and it's something I'd like to give back to all the women who are facing the fight of their life. Not to mention, I'd love to see the guys' faces if I showed up on a bike that pretty for a group ride.

- Mari Holden