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Life

“What the heck am I doing here???”

That’s a question I distinctly recall asking myself on May 25, 2010, as I stood in New York City’s Central Park about to embark upon a 4500-mile bicycle ride to San Francisco over the next ten weeks. On that morning, had anyone asked, I would not have said that I was “a cyclist”. As a wide-eyed first-year engineering student, I had signed up for the trip on a whim the previous fall. I bought my first road bike about two months before heading to NYC.

At the end of the first day’s hot and hectic 64-mile ride (and after eating what I’m pretty sure was an entire watermelon), I lay down in the grass thinking about how that had been a “short day” and wondered how I’d possibly survive the rest of the trip.

71 days later, I rode across the Golden Gate Bridge, and I knew I belonged on two wheels.

As far as I’m concerned, bicycles are magic. Biking across the USA that summer with the Illini 4000 was my first experience of that.

Simply, the way you experience a place on a bike is something special –

You feel the undulations of the terrain in your legs and the wind in your face.

You’re confronted by all the smells – both good and bad.

You hear the songs of the birds, the bugs, the breeze.

You see it all – slowly enough to take it in, but quickly enough that there’s always something new to look at.

You earn the destination, even if it’s the same place you started.

I learned a lot that summer. I learned I was capable of a lot more than I thought, but I was acutely aware that I wouldn’t have figured that out without pushing myself far outside of my comfort zone. I learned the power of a bike ride to ease a worried mind and lower stress. I learned how quickly deep friendships can be forged through the shared experience of a challenging ride.

After the trip, I noticed I rarely told anyone about the perfect-weather day that we soft-pedaled for 75 miles of gradual descent along a river. But the days of ripping headwinds, endless climbs, getting lost, and brutal hailstorms – those are the ones I remember most fondly, and the ones which I am sure resulted in the most “character building”.

Collage of Photos from Jamie Kelleher's

The Illini 4000 is a student organization at the University of Illinois and a 501(c)3 non-profit organization that raises money for cancer research and patient support services through annual cross-country bike rides. Along the way, the team (typically between 15 and 30 riders) interviews cancer patients, survivors, caretakers to document the American cancer experience through the Portraits Project. The inaugural ride was in 2007, and I was fortunate enough to join the organization for the 2010 ride. In 2011, I joined the Board of Directors and then also lead the ride in the summer of 2012 – what a change that was from just two years before! My experiences with Illini 4000, as a first-time rider and then as a ride leader, taught me invaluable lessons about teamwork, leadership, and problem solving. I also found it incredibly fulfilling to be doing something for social good.

By my senior year, I had already decided I wanted to pursue graduate school. I figured it still wouldn’t hurt to get some interview experience, so I went to the campus career fair and interviewed for a company that makes glass jars. The interviewer was friendly, and the interview went well. Glass jars are important to society – I use them all the time. But I could not imagine waking up every morning and feeling excited to go make them. It was then that I realized how important it was for me to combine my work with my passion. Having spent the past few years pouring myself into volunteer work with Illini 4000, I knew I’d do my best work in an industry I was truly excited and passionate about, and where I could work alongside others who felt similarly.

Having worked as a bike mechanic (and regularly shocking people by simply being a woman holding a wrench), I could also see that the industry could use more female representation. Generally, products designed “for women” were lacking. Most of the handlebars, shifters, and brake levers I encountered seemed like they were designed for hands much bigger than mine. Where I saw 20 options for men’s saddles with thorough descriptions about widths, riding position, and ride style, there’d be 3 options for women – with helpful descriptions like “sophisticated carbon femininity”. Yikes.

I wanted to pull up a chair and take a seat at the table.

Photos of Jamie's work with WBR

Having set the goal of working as an engineer in the bike industry, I knew there were still options for what that could look like. I was drawn to SRAM for many reasons. Already then, I felt like SRAM was the leading component manufacturer when it came to making products that were designed to work well for smaller riders, which I greatly appreciated. As a bike shop employee, I had also already felt first-hand the way that SRAM supported people within the industry. When I learned about SRAM’s close connection with World Bicycle Relief, I knew that I’d feel right at home.

The fact that I (an American, albeit a German-speaking one) was hired right out of graduate school to go work in Germany attests to SRAM’s willingness and dedication to support and encourage the development of its employees. In my now (almost) eleven years working at SRAM, this has been demonstrated time and time again. Whenever I’ve wanted to try something out of my comfort zone, SRAM has been there to open a door. Currently, I’m on a three-year secondment assignment working for World Bicycle Relief, spending most of my time in WBR’s assembly facilities in eastern & southern Africa as well as Colombia.

I won’t pretend that the question from Central Park never crosses my mind. “What the heck am I doing here?” is something I’ve asked myself many times since, but I’ve always kept pedaling (literally and figuratively). My years of riding and working around bikes have built the courage within me to take leaps into the unknown and feel confident that I’ll have the resilience and fortitude to figure it out. I am reminded of this every day at SRAM.

I belong on two wheels.

Collage of images featuring Jamie Kelleher
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More from the series

My Path, My Ride is a series that honors where we’ve been, how we’ve moved forward, and the rides that brought us here. By sharing these journeys, we’re creating space for connection, understanding, and a deeper sense of who we are as a collective.

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Collage of Jamie Kelleher at SRAM and WBR