A Year Of Change (Part 2)

     This past year has been tough for me.  Cycling was more than just my dream and my passion.  It was my identity.  I've been riding a bike since I was 3 years old.  I've been pursuing my dream of racing the Tour longer than I've known my wife.  I rode more miles in my 13 years of racing than most people drive.  I shaped my body into a cycling machine.  My legs would get tired if I had to walk more than 100 yards, but I wouldn't even think twice about riding 100 miles.  I worked less so I could ride more.  I was so passionate about my dream that my wife was willing to put aside her ambitions so she could support mine.  When I add it all up, I realize that my sense of self and purpose was entirely wrapped up in cycling.  So, when I crashed, it wasn't just my dream that ended - it was as if I didn't know who I was anymore.

       Immediately after my accident, I knew I needed to change.  I knew I had to find a way to move forward.  If I let myself, I could have gotten stuck trying to hold on to what I had lost.  And, I swore I wouldn't let that happen to me.  Moving forward wasn't so much about living some sort of high minded ideal - moving forward was about survival. When I was younger, I would sometimes get so overwhelmed and depressed that it would paralyze me.  Knowing that about myself, I knew I had to find a way to move forward.  I had to reinvent who I was.
      As hard as this last year was, there was also an undeniable sense of possibility.  I had been so focused on cycling for so long, that when I finally couldn't ride anymore it gave me a lot of time to think about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do with my life. It felt like being eighteen again with my whole future in front of me.  
      To be honest, I didn't really have any hesitation about what I wanted to do going forward.  I'd always talked about wanting to be a writer ... someday.  It sounds silly, but nearly dying gave me the clarity to realize someday might never come.  There really is no time like the present.  So, I started writing the moment I got back from the hospital.  I also knew that while my future as a cyclist was over, I couldn't just walk away from cycling.  There was still a lot I wanted to accomplish.  After my accident I started coaching a handful of guys.  If I couldn't pursue my dream anymore, at least I could help them achieve theirs.  I had also always promised my wife when cycling was done I would ditch the scrawny T-rex look  (big legs and tiny arms) with funny tan lines and look a little more "like a man", as she put it. 

     When I step back and think about it, wanting to be a writer and a coach sounds a little cliche.  It sounds like the midlife dream of every latte sipping, yuppy who isn't quite ready to let go of their childhood fancies.  It's right up there with wanting to start a coffee shop and sailing around the world (which, for the record, I want to do).  I can't help but notice that most of my generation seems to want to be the next American Idol or Youtube sensation.  Either that or they want to get a sponsorship from Red Bull to be an X Games athlete.  It's like no one wants to work at something.  They just want to make it big.  I know I am guilty of that.   I sometimes get so lost in the clouds that I forget to keep my feet on the ground.  
     Perhaps the biggest change in my life this past year was that I learned to appreciate the day to day things in a way I never had before.  I've been a teacher for the past ten years, but until this last year I never really saw the value in what I was doing.  It always just felt like something I had to do until I was able to do the things I wanted to do.   I always gave it 100% when I was teaching, but at the same time my heart wasn't in it.  Now I am more present in each moment and I also appreciate it more.  I have two daughters and I can't tell you how grateful I am that I get to watch them grow up.  That's something I didn't fully get until a year ago.  Being a father wasn't something I saw as unique or special.  But, I realize now that I had it completely wrong.  There isn't anything more important or special than being present in my girls lives.  I might not be the only father in the world, but I am the only father to my girls.  
       Looking back on this past year, I can't say that I would ever choose to go through everything I did.  But, in a weird sort of way, I am grateful for everything I experienced.  I learned a lot about myself and I have a much clearer sense of my priorities going forward.  I guess when I put everything into perspective I realize that sometimes you have to go backwards in order to keep moving forwards.  

     
     As much as I learned this past year.  It's time to put it behind me and keep moving forward.  I've spent a lot of time talking about my accident and how it's changed me and all that.  But, I am done now.  It's time to focus on the positives in my life going forward.  This past week I spent time in Solvang at a training camp I put together for the guys I coach.  My dream of racing is over, but theirs continue.  My loss is their gain, because I am putting every ounce of focus and preparation and wisdom that I have from my years of racing into them.  Looking ahead, I am excited to see where my new path takes me.  No more looking backward.  My focus from now on will be on my writing, coaching, and most importantly - my family.  Wish me luck.  Semper Porro.  

Semper Porro - Always Forward

A Year Of Change (Part 1)

     I am closing in on a year since I broke my neck.  The obvious thing to talk about would be all the normal platitudes about how grateful I am to be alive and how I have such a great new perspective on life and all that.  Blah, blah, bleh.  The truth is, I don't think this past year has changed me so much as it has sharpened me.  I am a little older now and I feel more focused and determined than ever to go forward.  Something that I've found strangely ironic is that as I am writing this, the Lance Armstrong saga is unraveling.  What is funny is that he was the one who inspired me to start racing all those years ago as a 15 year old watching the Tour de France fly past on the Champs Elysees.  I am left with the realization that my dream of racing the Tour and the person who first inspired me to race have been shattered.  I feel strangely at peace though. Much like my accident, I don't think Lance confessing to doping changes anything for me.  I was in the sport long enough to know the realities of cycling.  I chose never to take drugs.  But I know lots of people who did.  I also don't think my accident changes much for me either.  For sure, it ended one chapter of my life - 13 years worth of devotion to racing - but I am still going to keep going.  Racing is done, but cycling is not.  The dream is still to win the Tour de France.  Lance Armstrong's doping revelations don't change that for me and neither does a broken neck.

     Looking back through my old racing pictures, it makes me think about how much I put into the sport.  I suppose you could get consumed by any hobby, but for me it was everything.  I moved to California specifically so I could pursue cycling and I planned my whole life around it.  It's sometimes hard not to be bitter about what could have been.  But, it was a magical time of life.  I mean, how many people even get a chance to pursue their dreams?  Not many.  I was lucky in a lot of ways.  Besides the fact that I wasn't killed in my accident, I was lucky to have had so many years filled with great experiences before that.  I couldn't have done it without my wife who supported me unconditionally.  My family didn't always understand why I chose this crazy sport, but they supported me anyway.  When all is said and done, they are my real blessing in life.  Whatever else I might feel about cycling, I am grateful for the time I was able to spend doing what I love.
     

   

      What drives me now is the belief that I could have made it as a Pro Athlete.  In many ways, I feel it wasn't my ability so much as my execution that limited me.  My mom used to say that I was more potential than realization.  In a sad sort of way, I agree with her.  I believe I had the potential to make it at the elite level.  But, I didn't know how to put it all together.  At this point, I don't wonder so much about what might have been.  Now I wonder about other people in my same situation.  It's funny, a year ago at this time I was completely focused on the season ahead and how I could continue improving as an athlete.  Now I am thinking about how I can help other people improve.  This past year has been filled with change.  A lot of things in my life are different now, but my dream is still the same.  I want to win the Tour de France.  It won't be me wearing the yellow jersey, but if I can help someone else get there, I will be satisfied.  

People Don't Care

      Something that I've been kicking around my head recently is this notion that people don't care.  It struck me with alarming clarity when I bumped into some cycling friends at a cycling shop.  They had just finished up a hard ride and they were eager to refuel with some coffee and baked goods.  At the time it really struck me how far removed I had become from cycling.  More than that, I realized how tiny and insignificant my place in cycling was.  I stopped riding and most people didn't even notice.  You know what though, it's okay.  It didn't really bother me at the time.  It did make me wake up to the fact that cycling was here before me and it kept right on going after I had smashed into the side of a car.     I can remember over the years hearing stories of people getting seriously hurt - or even killed - and I barely noticed.  You can't think about that sort of thing when you are out riding.  You would just end up being this anxious ball of nerves, always waiting for a car to swerve suddenly or your tire to slip out from under you on a sharp turn.  What's more, you can't live life like that either.  If you let every tragedy, every bad piece of news, and all the suffering in this world weigh on you it would be impossible to function normally.  So, you compartmentalize the bad stuff and block it out.  Things are different, obviously, when it's you who is hit by a car.  To someone else, a bad accident is just another statistic of the dangers of riding a bicycle on the road.  But, to you it's something else.  It's personal.  And when things are bad you think, someone should care!  My dreams and the life that I had built for myself are completely destroyed.  Doesn't anyone notice?  Does anyone care?  Seeing those cyclists back in that coffee shop, it really made me realize that in fact, nobody does.
     I was talking to my brother the other day and he was telling me how he empathizes with the guy who hit me.  And sure, why not?  It was just an accident.  Everyone has done something illegal or stupid at one time or another.  It's not like I am dead.  I am not even paralyzed.  I used to be fairly disdainful of all the lawsuits in America.  I see things a little differently now.  Not hugely different, but a little.  I think the thing that I realize now is the significance of individual accountability.  Every action that you take can have an enormous impact on someone else.  In fact I think most people aren't even aware of the significance of their actions.  Texting while driving doesn't hurt anybody - right?  Ultimately though, each individual affects the whole.  Lawsuits - as distasteful as they sometimes are - are a constant reminder of the individual mandate that we all have to be responsible and accountable for our actions.
       What all of this has led me to is a clarity in my life and how I have moved forward through this past year.    And what a year 2012 was.  It was the hardest year of my life.  Everything is simpler now though.  I am closer with the people who matter and I worry less about everything (and everyone) else.  The world was here before me and it will go on after I am gone.  In the mean time I will focus on my life and make it the best I can.  Even if most people don't care about me, I do.  It's my life and if I don't care about it, why should anyone else?  There are certain things I can't change.  There are certain things I can change.  Now I know the difference.