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