When John Svensson asked me after a race 2 years ago if I would like to help him work on a top secret project designing skates, he posed the question in an extremely candid fashion. He told me that should I want to help him out, it would be worth my while, but I probably wouldn't have the time to race anymore.

I told him about my unfulfilled dream of winning against the Dutch. I reasoned that I didn't want to have any regrets later on for not having tried, so I chose to race while I still could. Beating the Dutch was a project that I had started in 1988, on a family trip to Holland where I saw the awe-inspiring spectacle of a race for the first time. Svenny promised to support me by creating some skates.

This past summer, after six years of trying, winning in Holland on those K2's Tony and Svenny made still seemed like an insurmountable task. Although I was the highest placed foreign finisher at the Siebrand International Three Day Stage Race, I still only managed a seventh place overall. I was very content with this placement, but what I really wanted was to stand on highest step of podium. It seemed as if I had yet to pay some serious dues before reaching the podium, let alone the top.

Miracle of miracles, however, my elusive dream finally materialized a few days later. Pitted against all my heroes in the big 45 minute plus 5 lap criterium races, I cracked it wide open by winning back to back. Just like that. This was without a doubt the single most incredible thing that had ever happened to me as a skater, and I'm still pinching myself today to make sure what all happened isn't just one of Dorothy's dreams.

In Holten, on the evening of July 26, the crowd was a huge catalyst in my first victory. They banged so loudly on the barriers that goose bumps would crawl up my neck, causing a fresh surge of adrenaline to wash away the pain. The urging from the crowd caused me to be a part of every break in the race. They all eventually got swallowed up, but the ultimate break came by attacking from the back of a tired pack with 2 minutes and 5 laps remaining. Not realizing that I'd have another chance to race before I left the country, I drifted to the back of the cooked pack and thought to myself, 'okay, it's now or never, all or nothing.'

I got up a huge head of steam and took the pack by surprise. Only one skater immediately gave chase, André Klompmaker, who joined me a little ways up the road. By now the pack was splintered in pursuit. Aided by the deafening roar of the three-deep spectators along the 1500 meter loop, we fired up the afterburners in an effort to stay clear. With Dutch national champion René Ruitenberg being the main animator in the pursuit, the strung-out pack came agonizingly closer, then stood up definitively as Klompmaker and I pressed on.

When it became clear with one lap to go that we wouldn't be caught, the cat and mouse games between the two of us began. Klompmaker tried shaking and baking me loose, but I hung on tenaciously and outsprinted him handily down the home stretch.
As is the custom in Holland, I was given a large bouquet of flowers on the podium and showered with kisses from Miss Holten in front of a whistling crowd. How embarrassing.

I turned my world completely upside down the very next day when I won my second race in succession against the cream of the Dutch skating crop, another 45 minute plus 5 lap criterium race on July 27, 1994, in Zuidwolde. That's the day I became the first foreigner to have triumphed in two races over there.

I was just as active as the day before, initiating and being a part of many breaks. It cost a lot of gas early on, but I had decided to jump on anything that moved. When René Ruitenberg took off after 38 minutes, I went after him, and it took a monumental effort to catch him. Albert de Boer caught up shortly after me and together the three of us kept the pedal to the metal.

American long track Olympian KC Boutiette, with the pack in tow, made a valiant attempt to catch us, but he saw us slip away after closing to within about 40 meters. The pack picked up the chase but could get no closer.

With half a lap to go, Ruitenberg stood up for a split second in a ritualistic jockeying for position. I didn't play that game, pressing on without missing a beat. Not standing up gave me a 20 foot lead, which ended up being enough to hold off a sprinting Ruitenberg at the line. When he came up from behind as if he were in the passing lane, I found a gear I never knew I had.

In the post-race interview before the spectators, I explained how surprised I was seeing that I could barely walk down stairs the night before, so exhausted was I after the race the day before. I also explained how the course was tailor-made for me, with long straightaways, only a few sharp turns, and a false-flat on the backside.

Racing in Holland suits me just fine. I only have a good sprint when everybody else is dog-tired, so I guess I prefer a hard, fast, grind-'em-down type of race where everybody is skating at their maximum for at least three-quarters of an hour. That's where I come to the fore. It's unfortunate that I had to come back to the States so soon, where races are over in the blink of an eye.

In the Kansas of my dreams, which is just a past reality in Holland, it seems only yesterday that I was getting dropped from the B races. And there I was in the summer of '94, flush from the effort of having won an A race, my hands heavy on my knees across the line, shaking my head in disbelief of my own repeat victory. My racing career had never known such a highlight such as this, and here I was not believing it was true.

These were two of the hardest races of my life, and even though they were full of suffering, I want nothing more than to go back and race again. The racers in Holland, although incredibly tough athletes both physically and mentally, were very gracious and supportive of my victories. They race for the love of the sport, not just for money.

Now there's no denying that we're all here to parlay our skills and successes into a brighter financial future, but money isn't the only reason we're involved with in-line skating. It all goes back to the conversation I had with Svenny when K2's were just a twinkle in his eye. We all have our dreams, and even though we go to work in different suits, down deep we we're still all in it together for the same reason: everybody is looking for an outlet for the creative form of expression that skating is.

All of us involved in skating are interconnected somehow because we appreciate the true beauty of athletic endeavor and the feeling of well-being that practicing and improving gives us. I could have helped design skates, but being able to carve these two victories in Holland into my cane -- that's definitely the best reward for my efforts I'll ever have.

SIDEBAR Mind over Matter in Breakaways

The long and windy road to the top can never be reached if you don't gather up enough mental strength (some call it intestinal fortitude) to cope with breakaways. Haico Bouma said he wasn't surprised that I had won because I was always in on every breakaway, and you're bound to succeed if you're always where the action is. But that's only half the battle. Mental conditioning also plays a deciding factor in the outcome of races, and by training your mind, you can bump your skating up to its highest level. Here are a few tips for improving your chances when in a break.

Don't hold back. Attack, attack, attack. Skate every breakaway attempt as if it were your first, your last, the only breakaway of your life. If you only make a half-hearted effort at trying to stay away, the pack will catch up at a leisurely pace while you slowly tire out, then pass you as if you were standing still. If you give every break your all, chances are that even if you are caught, your pursuers are also tired. That makes it easier to counterattack or hop on as they go by.

Capitalize on pack indecision. Frequently people in a pack are worried about conserving their energy for the final spurt and not willing to contribute to the effort of the chase. If you are on a break, the harder you skate, the more indecisive the pack becomes about who's going to have to do the work to catch up. Because the stop-and-go skating of a pack is frequently slower than an individual or a group that's plugging along at a steady pace, the chances of your breakaway succeeding are good. If people stand up, you go.

Grin and bear it (my mom says "suffer in silence"). If you broadcast how tired you are, a feeding frenzy will take place and you'll be chewed up and spit out. Smile instead of grimacing in pain, lest your competitors sense your weakness and drop you mercilessly. One telltale sign of being really tired is a blank face, like the "uh-oh" look of a cross-eyed baby pooing in his diapers. You can also gauge someone's strength by how talkative they are. If you try to engage them in conversation, and they either don't respond or talk back in one or two word grunts, you know they're hurtin' and it's probably time to attack.

Offer encouragement to your break-mates . The success of a break always depends on its chemistry, and if you have somebody who's just along for the ride, the break can be doomed. Mutual cooperation is the name of the game before the finish draws near. If you are verbally supportive of the people with you, you increase the chance that the break will stick, because your break companions will put in their fair share of work as well.

Do look back. You need to know where your chasers are, so you know how hard you have to skate to stay away. If I'm being pursued by an individual, I look back a lot to make sure he's still breaking his own wind. If I see the gap closing, I punch it a little harder. If you can keep the gap yawning, soon enough your competitor will explode to kingdom come.

Be mentally strong. Even if you don't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning, always race for 1st place. The minute you settle for anything but a win, you've basically given up, and it becomes too easy to do it again next time. When I got off on a three man break in Holland, I was so tired I told myself "cool, I've at least got third place." Then I realized what a cop-out that was, and told myself I was going to skate hard and win. I did. Never give in. Never settle in your head for anything less than 1st place. When you don't win, throw up your hands and tell yourself you'll get it next time.

Have a gambler's mentality. Although there are always favorites in a breakaway, the outcome of races these days is more like a crap shoot than anything else. That's why you have to take your chances and lay it all out on the line when you're on a breakaway. The more you gamble the better your odds of winning become.