Water Therapy - Stand Up Paddleboard Yoga

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham of Women TIES and the Women’s Athletic Network trying out SUP Yoga

Lying flat on a board, a little wider than my body, I stared up at the deep blue sky with cotton clouds and put my hands in the warm Bay Creek river. Listening to the calming voice of our instructor, the ever-positive Lynne Boucher, five of us settled into the calm of a late August afternoon. Listening carefully the creek reeds jostled in the late summer breeze, the water rippled, birds chirping in the wild, and even far away traffic on the road leading to our destination tickled my eardrums. “Ah!” it was so worth the wait.

Hope Breen leading the way!

In business, as in life, you have to be patient sometimes. Due to bad weather, this was our third attempt trying Stand Up Paddleboard Yoga for my lifetime sports goal. Bobbing on SUP boards next to me were four willing women, all of whom were entrepreneurs ending their summer office hours in peace. We were all hesitant paddling out to the perfect spot in the creek until we got our feet under us and natural instincts took over.

I tried Stand Up Paddle board for the first time on St. John’s Island last year on much wilder waves. I fell in a few times but like a good sport got right back up and tried again until I felt comfortable on it. SUP isn’t a hard sport; it just takes time to settle your legs and knees into a balanced stance so you can comfortably paddle forward as waves move you along. It is like riding a bicycle in many ways, once you understand the balance, you can do it confidently.

The harder part of this SUP experience was anchoring your board and slowly doing yoga poses on this moveable floor. If yoga is one thing, it is slow movements, which lends itself to moving on a board in the water. Our instructor allowed us to do the poses we wanted at the degree of hardness we wanted to try. Almost all of us were able to do harder poses and none of us fell in the water.

Downward Doggin’ it during SUP Yoga.

My favorite time doing this sport was “playtime” when we could do anything we wanted including jumping up and down on the board if we dared. Oh, don’t dare me! I saw one of my members do it and the next thing I knew I launched myself in the air a number of times, again not falling in. I would have never thought I could do that when I first stepped off the dock onto the board. Confidence climbs.

As our beautiful, tranquil, and yet sometimes challenging time, came to an end all my guests and I thought it was such a wonderful experience.  A few of them said,

Christina Breen-Hale rocking SUP Yoga

Stacey Murphy readying herself for tree pose

“I was stressed thinking about trying this sport today, but it was so relaxing.”
“It was easier than I thought”
“Once you get your balance, it becomes second nature”

All quotes from the women who came and conquered.

Freedom Is a Bikeway

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham, daily bike routine, Syracuse, NY

I hop on my trusty friend with white iPods blaring favorite tunes when all of a sudden, Jimmie Allen’s “Freedom Was A Highway” comes on.  As the bike path below my rotating tires catches my eye, I switch up the lyrics singing “Freedom Is a Bikeway,” and bike on, and on, and on. Almost too delirious in joy to stop when my legs are tired. If it’s a sunny 44-degree-day in Syracuse, NY in the middle of winter and I’m biking, I’m ecstatic and I’m going longer than I think – I ride on pure happiness.

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham, Alopecia Biking Girl

Learning ride a bike is almost as elementary as learning to walk, tying one’s shoes, and putting on a jacket. Everyone remembers getting on their first tricycle for the first time or their yellow banana bike (I might be dating myself here) or their first ten speed roadster and heading off down a driveway or street. When we become parents, we remember teaching their kids how to ride a bike, praying they don’t tip over and take a patch of skin off their knees that might require iodine, like we had applied to our scrapes.

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham - Bike West Shore of Onondaga Lake

I associate freedom with biking because of the way it makes me feel – and maybe you too. The speed of moving faster than walking, wind blowing in one’s hair, moving along, taking in the sights, and feeling simply free and in control of one’s life for a moment or two. It’s not so different for me as a 58-year-old woman taking off for her lunch hour to bike an easy 9-miles or 15-miler if I have the time. It was the suave I needed when I became a bald woman four years ago because no one cared what someone looks like when they are biking or doing sports, and on my bike I found my new image and myself again.

It was on my bike four years ago that the passion of riding enveloped me. I had been a runner for 15 years eventually running in the Boston Marathon on a charity team when a simple tear to my hip muscle one July day stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t run forward. I was told to rest but I couldn’t. Soon I discovered my hip didn’t hurt when I biked.  My natural Italian energy soars every day even only drinking half-caf coffee; and as you know what goes up, must come out – or down – depending on how you look at it.

Taking to my bike instead of my running shoes, reminded me of the freedom of skiing downhill when speed was the goal – of mine at least. The faster I could go, the happier I was. I tucked and bombed it out, never wiping out. Biking down hills fast puts me right back on the slopes. Biking up bigger hills eventually taught my legs and lungs to be stronger. Biking became addictive and remains so for me, so much so I bike all year long in snowy Central New York if the roads are clear enough.

So yes, for me, and hopefully for you some day, biking will be your freedom highway.  Start biking more and let me know if you need someone to go with you! I’m available. 

West Lake Trail, Onondaga Lake Trail, Syracuse, NY

2023 National Girls and Women in Sports Day Activity

Under the clearest blue sky you would ever find in Syracuse in the middle of winter, gathered three women who never met before. The brisk 20-degree air temperature didn’t stop us from getting together to cross country ski, network, talk about our companies, and share our love of sports.

We were inspired to gather because it was the 37th Annual National Girls and Women in Sports Day (NGWSD), as earmarked by the Women’s Sports Foundation founded by Billie Jean King.  The Foundation was created to unlock the possibilities in every girl and woman through the power of sport. Their NGWSD is held every year on February 1 and inspires women and girls to gather around the love of sport.

As a child of ski shop owners and ski instructors, gliding on snow in downhill or cross country skis were easy for me, and for one other woman, Jennifer, who cross country skis a lot, but for one woman,  Janet, with brand new skis, it was a first time attempt on slightly ice and cold conditions.

The three of us began together but soon decided Jennifer should take off on the 3-mile lake loop while I stayed with our Janet and help her if she needed it. I was able to use my parent’s teaching tools and 50- years of experience to “glide” her along, giving her pointers on movement, how to go up slight hills with slipping backwards, and even how to get up when you fall – as evident by my own tumble – which made us both laugh! Hey, even old-time skiers fall sometimes.

As the two of us slid gently, up and down, the path weaving in and out of tall pine trees, I said to my new friend, “even the tallest trees have to start somewhere” trying to make her feel better as she started off. She smiled, continued skiing, and once-in-awhile on my suggestion looked up to see what glorious woodlands she was playing in today. As we ended our shorter path, I gave her applause and a high five for trying this sport for the first time in her life at the age of 61. “Not all of us are born to parents who ski,” I reminded her.

As Jennifer joined us in the lodge, we sat in beautiful wooden rocking chairs getting to know each other’s businesses better and sharing our areas of expertise. As you suspect, the conversation centered on health, wellness, sports, holistic practices, and eating well. Thyroid function, stem cells, alopecia, and living a gluten-free life arose in our talks.  Jennifer gave us a X-39 patch which is used for light therapy since she is a 25-year practitioner of acupuncture and light therapy. Janet shared her new written works and aspirations for a published book one day. No matter what woman I meet, there is always something positive to glean from the meeting.

On the way out of the lodge, we hugged, promised to stay in touch and get to know each other better. Both of them want to try some other sports with me – one parasailing, and one the biathlon. I promised to keep in touch and tell them when I had those sports booked to try. If it wasn’t for this special once-a-year recognition of women and girls in sports, we wouldn’t have gathered and shared the morning together.

The next time you are lonely, call up a girlfriend, another woman in your community, or a woman with an interest in sports, and get together to enjoy the day, learning, stoking your energy, and taking in a bit of nature along the way. Office work can wait sometimes, especially on a sunny, cold day in February.  

Field Hockey - Playing in a Wolf Pack

Keuka College Women’s Field Hockey Team with Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham and businesswomen

Arriving on the lakeside campus reminded me of my youth growing up on a lake and making my heart sing. Nestled in the Finger Lakes, about an hour and a half from my home, is the quaint campus of Keuka College my sports destination for the day. Mesmerized by its charm, I parked my car behind the Recreation Center, went inside to find one of the most likeable coaches I’ve ever met – Erika Profenno smiling and ready to make learning Field Hockey my goal for the day.

Women’s Athletic Network players of the day

Choosing a PINK stick, of course.

Seven business women, some with field hockey experience or moms of some of the Keuka College Wolverines Women’s Field Hockey team, arrived and started networking. We met there to caravan to the field where the players were eager to teach us this historic game.  You might not know but field hockey’s origins started in the 18th-century making it one of the oldest team sports in history.  Some of the business women brought field hockey sticks, goalie pads, and shin guards to uniform up for the game.

As we arrived at the field looking over the campus and lake, the stars of the show greeted us.  They were giggly, exuberant team players ranked from freshman to seniors who play for Coach Erika. They were well- trained, well-behaved, and excited to teach a bunch of middle-aged women how to play the sport they loved on a brisk Saturday morning.  As a college student, I cherished Saturday mornings so I can’t imagine being this happy myself if I had to rise and instruct a bunch of 50-year-old women.

Led by Senior Captain Makaela Mills, we learned how to “flick”, “strike”, “drive,” and “defend.” I easily perfected the drive motion since my energy level was high, but flicking the round compact ball, that fit in the palm of my hand although larger than a golf or lacrosse ball, was a tougher move for me. My friend Jill Bates said, “I keep thinking I’m driving a golf ball and raising my arms too high behind me.”  Coach Profenno came to our rescue giving us detailed guidance.  If there is one thing I’ve learned being taught so many different sports in a small span of time it’s that it is easy to confuse strokes and movements between them.

Soon we were assigned to two different teams, a mix of women and players, and lined up for two 8-minute halves for a scrimmage. FUN! I was put on the offensive line so I could score a goal. Behind me was a line of middies and then defenders and our goalie, a non-goalie player from the team who wanted to try out goal for once (she did great by the way).  I made both teams name themselves – we were called F2 – the Feminist Field Hockey Team and the other team chose the name Plan A. (check out our TikTok Video of the scrimmage at this link).

As we ran wildly chasing the ball with our sticks in front of us, we laughed and laughed and tried our best to score. I must admit I didn’t score and our team didn’t win but kudos to Plan A for their expertise and 2 goal win. At the end of the scrimmage, which I wish went longer, we gathered for a huddle, sticks in the air, and smiles on our faces for a large group photo.

Women TIES members giving career and life advice to the students over pizza

We headed back to the Recreation Center to have a pizza networking party complete with a career and business discussion for us to give back to these sharp students. I gifted them each a Chicken Soup for the Soul “Running for Good” book that held my Boston Marathon story to inspire them further in life to play and give.  To my surprise, they gifted me with my very own Keuka College Wolverine Jersey #24 which I absolutely love.

The experience was truly amazing. It was fun sport to learn and play - especially if you like running and being on a team. On this Monday morning, I am so proud to now be a part of the Wolf Pack – a Wolverine in heart and spirit.

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham - The latest Keuka College Field Hockey Wolverine

Cheerleading - 1977

Rome Free Academy Cheerleaders, Rome, NY

I entered the smelling gymnasium one day after ninth period class ended. Other semi-confident, exuberant teenage girls, gathered with me. Leaning against the front walls were the most popular girls in school – the cheerleaders. With orange or black bows in their pig tails reflecting school colors, short pleated skirts around small waists showing skinny legs, and white blouses with differing sizes of breasts, some of them popping open since most cheerleaders were generally well-developed girls. One of them chewed her gum loudly, cracking it as if she was replicating the whip she’d use to get us all in order shortly.

Being a dyslexic right/left direction girl, I knew I could be in trouble replicating jumps, kicks, dances, and other fast-paced movements since our cheerleading instructors were facing us while teaching them. As an honor society student, I was pretty confident I could recite the simple cheer sentences which last time I checked hasn’t changed in four decades. Why is that?

After a few takes, it was time to be called up in a group of six to try out for the team – which meant perfecting the moves and basically screaming loudly. Oh, I could scream but could I jump and remember to reverse my moves mentally? Distinctively I remember I couldn’t, I simply couldn’t. Embarrassed because I was a pretty good athlete, I slouched my way back and leaned against the cold gymnasium wall waiting for my name to be called for the cheerleading squad.

To my dismay, but not quite shock, my name wasn’t called and instantly, only in a 13-year-old-girl’s mind, I thought, “I really didn’t want to be a cheerleader anyways!” I turned my nose up, walked out the gym door with my head held high, shoulders back, big breasts obviously-not a selling point in this case-aiming forward, and left my only attempt at becoming a cheerleader behind.

But what I realized soon after and during the rest of my athletic career was the fact; I rather preferred cheering on my own swim or track teammates, more than yelling for good-looking football or basketball players anyways. I loved mentally lifting up and helping my girlfriends more than boys who already received enough accolades and attention thrust upon them in the mid-seventies.

I believe failing at making the cheerleading squad might have sparked my feminist spirit so for that I’m personally and professionally grateful. “Go, Women!” I cheer loud and proudly with my white blouse now pink to represent females of all sizes, shapes, sexual preferences, occupations, and skin color because they are my favorite people.

Changed Forever - I'm a Boston Marathoner

Scott, Tracy and Adam Higginbotham after the 2017 Boston Marathon - April 17, 2017

“The person who starts the race is not the same person who finishes the race,” is a quote once seen on a marathon supporter sign on the side of a road. I remember reading this quote and wondering who I would be once I crossed the historic Boston Marathon line on Boylston Street. What would change, what moments would influence me for the rest of my life, what moments along the 26.2 miles would stay in my soul forever? I have the answers and I really want to share them with you today so this is a long and unique “Wednesday Wisdom” blog post. I hope you don’t mind.

The journey of a marathon starts long before the starting gun goes off jumpstarting your heart and legs for this tremendous adventure. The journey starts when you ask yourself, “Can I complete a marathon? Do I want to complete a marathon? What the heck does it take to finish a marathon?” Having always been inspired by women the motivation to run a marathon came in November 2015 sitting around a table of 13 international and American women in the brownstone rental Kathrine Switzer had arranged for the very first 261Fearless.org team meeting. I would have never known that one simple candle lit dinner with wine and homemade food would spark something I never knew existed within me.

As each woman introduced herself explaining why they were there, why they ran, and what they do, I was amazed to discover I was only 2 of 13 women who had never run a marathon; but I was a 15 year 2 mile a day runner which seemed to impress my new friends. Mary T., who sat across from me, just back from running a marathon in Antarctica and Inga, sitting to my right, was from Iceland who runs her country hills near fjords with a gun in case a bear crosses her path. She turned to me and said, “You should run in Iceland with me!” I’m not sure what my facial expression was but I sure as heck knew what my internal answer was….bears really?”

Kathrine V. Switzer, the first woman to officially register and run in the Boston Marathon (1967) and Tracy

Then came time to listen to the inspirational words of Kathrine Switzer, the hostess who brought us together within her dream to create 261Fearless.org and what it would mean for women globally if we could get involved and believe in her concept helping to launch it in our own cities and countries. It is hard to say “no” to Kathrine because she is the most wonderful, warm, amazing woman I have ever met. She is electric and gracious all rolled into one.

After bonding with these 13 women I left New York City changed, wishing I could stay with my new international friends forever and wanting to help Kathrine anyway I could. I knew I had to help women know more about K.V. Switzer what she had done in 1967 and what she planned to do so I arrived back to Syracuse ready to stay involved and we did when I landed her a speaking gig at my Alma mater SUNY Oswego and she repaid the favor speaking at a Women TIES event in April 2016.

In the late summer of 2016, I received an unexpected email asking for women to apply to run in the Boston Marathon with Kathrine on the 50th anniversary of her gender barrier breaking moment in history. My hands shook as I contemplated the decision and then I said, “No way could I run a marathon” and closed the email. Next thing I knew my NYC 261Fearless roommate from Louisiana (the other non-marathoner) posted a YouTube video saying in her southern drawl, “I’m doing this,” and next thing I knew I opened the invitation, filled out the application and sent it in! I knew I had to train, raise $7,261 dollars and then run it – which was going to be harder I wondered?

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham, with the lucky marathon garland loaned to us before the race, and it worked!

9 months later, on April 17, 2017, as I walked excitedly towards the start line in the Hopkinton, Massachusetts where our Boston Marathon start was to begin, Dawn, my NYC roommate was at my side, fatefully put there again, to start this once in a life time experience. As we walked up behind Kathrine with 110 other excited women (and a few men), we looked at each other grabbed hands and said a prayer that we would each finish. Boom the gun went off and we ran our separate ways.

You see as much as you think you will run alongside someone to experience the Boston Marathon together, you can’t. As distinctively as our own personalities, we uniquely have to travel the 26.2 hilly miles from Hopkinton through Wellesley past Boston College and onto Boylston Street by ourselves with our own mantras, pace, spirit and depth of commitment. You can’t live someone else’s moment; you must live your own.

I felt great looking ahead at the colored hats and shirts of thousands of runners. The energy of the crowd sweeps you up for the first 7 miles as you run downhill and uphill with tons of people cheering you on. Then you start feeling the tightness in your legs, the slowing down of your pace and the reality you have 19 more miles to go. I was not discouraged on how I was feeling because I had trained for this thanks to my coach Reem Jishi, and knew it would take every ounce of tenacity to pull through.

Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham, almost done with the marathon, the W is for women!

I started thinking of the 110 people who donated to my 261Fearless.org charity raising $8,000 and I knew there was nothing that was going to stop me from finishing that race even if I had to walk and run to get there. The generosity of my donors fueled me in the doubtful moments. As I approached the beginning of HeartBreak Hill near my beloved Boston College, a blind woman and her coach ran by me on the left and a man with blade feet came up on me to the right, and my spirit raged as I witnessed these two individuals.

Heartbreak Hill is a long hill but it was “Heartful Hill” for me because my oldest son Thomas had gone to Boston College for four years and when I drove into visit him that was the last hill until his dorm. I loved that hill! BC Students were cheered me on as I yelled, “I love Boston College!” I stopped to have a 14 year old girl fix my iPod music and she said, “I love your bracelet which said ‘She believed she could, and so she did,’ a gift from my friend Susan Bertrand of Maureen’s Hope Foundation. I took it off and gave it to her as a thank you. She hugged me. I was energized once again.

Jill Bates, there for a surprise hug and extra energy to finish the last 3 miles.

Just as I came down the hill on “The Haunted Mile,” a flat part of the race in Newton, my husband and son hugged me and off I went until a mile later when Jill Bates, a Women TIES member from Rochester and her sister-in-law, an Ironwoman who I had donated to for her Hawaiian race, hugged me and gave me one last push to finish my last 3 miles. You see you receive if you give. Off I went, knowing the end was near.

Down the hill and the big left turn on Boylston Street, the crowd noise was louder than a Boston Red Sox victory over the Yankees. I couldn’t believe how loud that crowd was and how many people stayed to cheer us on. The elite athletes had finished hours before. Kathrine Switzer had finished an hour before at the age of 70 finalizing her big dream. You wouldn’t know you were a charity runner when you heard that crowd. I heard someone say, ‘Tracy….I turned around to see my roommate Dawn from Louisiana call my name. We had miraculously caught up to each other at the .2 mile of the 26.2 mile race. Was it fate? I say it was our prayers that we crossed the finish line.

At the end of the race I was a different person, a changed person. I realized that during the race I tried to give back to the crowd as much as they gave to me. I stopped took photos, danced for them, acknowledged them, shook their hands, gave hugs to people who held up “Do You Need A Hug” sign, slapped as many little girls hands as I could to make them happy, and slowed down to bask in the true “LOVE OF BOSTON.”

In the end, I realized how much people really care about others. The world news does not speak about this world that appears on the everyday streets that make up America – or Boston – or other great USA cities. People do believe in each other. We want to love others. We show our love the best we can. We are there in service and support from the smallest of us to the oldest.

Kathrine V. Switzer and Tracy Chamberlain Higginbotham - 261 Fearless Team

I am changed forever by the love every single person in the Women TIES community, my family and my new Boston family showed me. I don’t know what to do with all this love but I sure do plan on giving away as much as I can to repay every person who believed in me. Come to a Women TIES event and I’ll give you a hug to share it.

Although the bracelet is on the wrist of a 14 year old girl, I remember what it said, “She believed and so she did!” What I know for sure is if I can run the Boston Marathon, then any woman I know including my favorite women entrepreneurs, can do anything they believe they can!

My roommate Dawn Foreman and I at the end of the race with our medals on.

Bow Hunting Atop the Trees

I didn’t climb trees when I was young mainly because the trees around my 1770’s house were very tall Maple trees, slender with only high branches, nothing reachable for a tiny girl like me. But I did fall in love with trees as I looked at them from my bedroom window, under an alcove, in my room. As a child of divorce, I felt safe somehow under them, as if they were watching out for me in their gentle, yet sturdy, way.

So as I climbed a tree at the age of 57 to bow hunt with my husband for the first time, I knew I would like it. The tall ladder leaned up nice and secure to its trunk. It was not intimidating to climb since it wasn’t as shaky as the flying trapeze ladder I ascended in February. Also I trusted my husband’s engineering style and was simply fearless about heights. I was excited to get to the top of the ladder,where a two-person seat, awaited us to perch and peer down on unsuspecting deer.

After practicing archery for three months, I was pretty confident in shooting a bow and arrow and knowing where to aim the arrow to kill the deer without injuring it. “The Kill Zone” was diagrammed on a black and white bag at the Gun and Archery Club we belonged to, with a spot for the heart, so I knew where I needed to aim if a stag or doe came within our sights.

Rising at dawn, my husband and I were up in the tree stand, quieter than mice, by 7 a.m. on a frosty 30-degree morning. We sat in darkness until the sun slowly appeared over our left shoulders awakening birds who took flight in groups heading south for the winter. It was also beautiful watching the differing shadows in the woods as the sun moved higher from the horizon, warming the atmosphere and our cold cheeks too. At last we could see what we would shoot, but hearing was as essential as seeing, to make sure you were shooting the right animal.

Three hours passed by quickly as we heard deer footsteps in the distance, tucked behind pine trees, not giving us a safe shot. But as I waited, I noticed things you’d never notice before walking in the woods – a fallen leaf pierced by a tiny stick of a tree limb floating almost in space, the varying degrees of green moss attached to most trees, the white birch paper-like- skin of other trees, and the whooshing of tall feather-like plants in the bog next to us. It was truly a delightful and sensory experience I never had before.

When we climbed down from our perch, high above the ground, knowing we’d have to succeed killing a deer on another day, I was grateful for the experience of sitting atop the trees, like I was one with nature, next to my husband who told me he loved me a bit more because I went with him on his favorite thing to do. I call that definitely a better day than bringing home a beautiful prized deer.

Get Your Fattie On - Mountain Biking!

“Get on your fattie, Tracy,” my friend Patti Giancola said to me. At first, I thought she was referencing my tush but soon looked down at the tires on the mountain bike to see they were especially fat tires. Fatties are slang for flat tire bikes used for mountain biking, and they are much larger than my regular bicycle.

I had seen these fat-tired bikes before but typically in February when I’m still riding my regular bike in Central New York being extra careful not to slide off the trails. I thought fat-tired bikes were simply winter tires that bicyclists put on in the winter to ride, similar to snow tires. I was wrong. What I also learned quickly was how bouncy they were, like riding in a car whose shocks were worn out. The bounce made the ride really interesting and extra fun.

As we set out under and over the crunchy, blaze orange-leafed trees in Green Lakes State Park since it was mid-October in Upstate New York, the surroundings were stunning. I soon noticed riding on a mountain bike meant easily being able to ride from dirt trail over stones, sideways up onto grass or over weeds, on more small stone gravel, and in fields, all without feeling the change or being nervous about falling making the terrain changes. Cool.

Although we were on mountain bikes, we weren’t in the mountains biking, but on dedicated mountain bike trails in Green Lakes State Park winding in and out of trees and up and down hills. After trying motor cross this year, I likened fat-tire biking to more of the thrill of motor cross plus the access to natural beauty like cross country skiing in the winter between trees in all of nature’s beauty. Mountain biking allows one to bike in nature, not just on a paved pathway in or around nature. It was different and really enjoyable since I’m a nature lover.

Another benefit of biking with an old client is getting a chance to catch up with them. Patti now loves the freedom of running her own Cabi business instead of her previous career in fundraising, where I first met her. Tucked in her warm house are seasonal lines of clothing to try on. So, if you want to have a party with her or go to one of her open houses, click here for more information. Who says women can’t network while biking, like men network while golfing?

I was lucky to be using Patti’s husband’s bike, since mountain bikes are much more expensive than regular bikes, but I could see why. The bikes fit in the back of big SUVs or on regular bike racks. In fact, Patti owns different bikes for different occasions so if you like regular bike riding, see if you can rent a mountain bike and give it a whirl. I think you’ll fall in love with the fattie and your own tush won’t mind the ride either.