It is exhilarating to shoot photos at bike races. It doesn't matter if it's gravel, MTB, or road; I am genuinely giddy when I'm out on the road or trail with a camera in hand, waiting for the first racers to come into view.

Anticipation sharpens alertness. Before the lead racer gets to me, I'm constantly surveying the setting for interesting camera angles and perspectives. Then once the first rider zips by, it's run-and-gun photo shooting for the rest of the race.

It's in the moments in between that I have time to think and reflect about not just the race, but the whole spectacle of race weekend festivities.

Race directors, I have a question for you.

How much money are you spending on advertising your race?

Facebook and Instagram ads. Google Ads. Sponsored posts. Cycling media. Maybe a boosted post here and there when registration numbers need a little help.

Now for the harder question: Is it actually driving registrations?

Most race directors know how to promote a race.

Far fewer know how to build a brand.

Every year I see race directors pour enormous amounts of energy into registration announcements, sponsor posts, deadline reminders, and race-week updates. Then for many, almost as quickly as the finish line is packed away, the content stops.

The race disappears from social media.

The website sits unchanged for months.

Momentum fades.

Then, months before the race begins again next year, the process starts all over again.

I keep thinking there has to be a better way.

Your latest social media post could be thoughtful, beautifully produced, and genuinely useful.

It could also disappear from your followers’ feeds before most of them ever knew it existed.

Social media is a lot of fun for me. Over time, I have trained my algorithms to show me content I am interested in. My feeds are filled with bikes, trails, outdoor recreation, photography, small towns, rural tourism, and content marketing. All fun stuff.

But when it comes to creating and publishing social media content, there is a reality we cannot ignore.

I’ve worked with a lot of race directors over the years.

Different regions. Different disciplines. Different goals.

But one thing always stands out to me the moment I show up on race day: Every race has a personality.

You can feel it before the start. Some races feel more grassroots and raw. Others feel polished, sleek, and fast. Some are quiet and community-driven. Others feel like a full-on festival or party.

I have an affinity for older DSLR cameras.

My first full-frame was a Canon 5D Mk II, which I still shoot with on occasion. Beyond that, I’ve built up a collection of 15–20+ year old Canon bodies—XTi, XT, XS, 20D, 30D, and more.

It started as a teaching tool.

Every fall, I teach an intro to photography course. Instead of handing students the latest gear, I give them cameras I’ve picked up at thrift stores or on eBay for $10–$40.

And honestly? They’re perfect for learning.

Last year, I stood on the side of a wide Eastern Oregon highway and watched a field slowly come apart with the snow-capped Wallowa Mountains in the background.

Not explode.

Not some dramatic highlight-reel moment.

Just … come apart.

It was late morning. That dry Eastern Oregon light that makes everything feel sharper than it probably is. I could hear freehubs and the hum of tires on the road before I could see faces. A thin line of riders stretched across the road. Shoulder dust lifting slightly when someone drifted too far left.

Then the hesitation.

A rotation half a second late.

The crosswind shifts just enough.

That’s all it takes out there.

Separation.

There was a time when posting about your race on social media actually meant something.

You could share a few photos, write a quick caption, maybe tag a sponsor or two, and people would see it. Riders would register. Momentum would build.

That time is gone.

Not completely. But enough that it’s worth saying out loud.

Social media is no longer a reliable way to grow a race if that is your exclusive way to grow awareness.

And if you’re a race director still relying on it as your primary marketing tool, you’re not alone. But you are at a disadvantage.

This isn’t a critique. It’s just the reality of how the system works now.

If you've followed along for any length of time, you'll also know that I still love and utilize social media a lot.

My DMs on Instagram are buzzing daily, with conversations with race directors not only across the country but also overseas. There's something unifying about the stress of lower-than-expected registration numbers as race day looms...

If you've been following along for any length of time, you'll realize there's about a 20% overlap in content in my articles from week to week. Not only am I trying to build bridges from one article to the next, but we also need weekly reminders of many of the same things (I know, I do).

I received a DM from a race director who was sharing, "We just need to push harder on social this month." I don't think there's a race director anywhere on planet Earth who doesn't think and feel the same.

I could sense his panic. Registration had stalled. The race was eight weeks out.

When it comes to social media and creating more awareness for your race ... what would you do? Or maybe more accurately, what DO you do?

“We just need better content,” a race director told me recently.

He said it the way most people do ... frustrated, slightly overwhelmed, convinced the algorithm had turned against him. (Who doesn’t feel that way???)

When I asked what kind of content he meant, he paused.

“More reels, probably. Maybe more drone shots. Something that pops.”

That’s when I realized the real issue wasn’t really about creativity ... it was more about clarity.