Semper Porro

Semper Porro means Always Forward in Latin.   It's my reminder to keep moving forward.  This past year has been filled with more ups and downs than I could have imagined.  Sometimes it feels like I am grinding forward without really getting anywhere.  Other times it feels like ... well - actually it always feels like I am grinding along.  Don't get me wrong.  I am not complaining.  I have so much to be thankful for.  This past year was a true test though.  I was knocked down (quite literally), but I picked myself back up and kept moving forward.  It certainly hasn't been pretty.  I am going to keep at it though.  The truth is, that's pretty much my best quality - keeping at it.  I am not particularly smart, or talented.  I am not that good looking or rich.  I've never been very popular.  What I am though is relentless.  Give me enough time and I will accomplish whatever it was that I set out to do.  That or die trying.  The irony of course is that nearly happened.  But, still I am going.  The truth is, a lot of times I don't want to get out of bed in the morning.  I sometimes wonder if other people struggle as much as I do.  Maybe that's just the human condition though.  If that's the case, then we could all use the reminder to keep moving forward.  Life knocks you down - you get back up and keep moving forward.  That's how I choose to live my life anyway.  It might not be easy, but at least I'll always know that today was better than yesterday.  Semper Porro.  

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.

Priorities

     These past few weeks I've been really up and down.  Nothing bad I guess, but my sleep schedule has been all over the place and I've been alternating back and forth between being sick and being healthy.  Along with all that, my emotions and motivation, and general outlook on life have been really up and down.  One moment everything is fantastic, the next moment I just want to lie in bed and curl up into a little ball.  Of course, there's no chance of that because my girls almost always need something.  There's food to be made and dishes to be washed and messes to be cleaned up.  A week ago it was vomit.  It seemed like every time I turned around one of them was throwing up.  Of course my youngest daughter, who is one year old, wasn't getting it into a bowl or a toilet so I was constantly cleaning up after her.  Let me tell you, vomit doesn't come out of carpet very easily.  It was especially fun when I got sick.  Ugh.

      The thing is, I am not trying to complain.  All of this is just a part of life, but one thing I've noticed since I stopped riding is that I am not as balanced as I used to be.  Cycling was my touchstone in many ways.  I always knew when I had to eat and what I should should be eating.  I exercised regularly (obviously) so that kept me healthy.  I was on a good sleep schedule because I needed to recover as best I could.  Also, I had a direction and goals to pursue so each day moved forward with a sense of purpose.  Now that cycling is gone, I am really struggling to stay on top of all those things.  My sleep is terrible.  I exercise about one tenth the amount I used to.  I eat like crap.  Just yesterday in fact, I had a cup of coffee in the morning and then at 4:00 in the afternoon I realized I hadn't actually eaten anything - so I had a bowl of cereal.  And, we won't even talk about eating chocolate and drinking Bourbon at 2:00 in the morning.  Besides all that, each day seems to blend into the next and I am left wondering exactly what I am supposed to be striving for?  Where is the anchor in my life without cycling?  

     The thing is, I've tried to push forward.  And, on balance I think I've done a good job.  Coaching is going well.  I am making progress on my book.  Life in general seems to be moving forward.  But still, it's not like before.  Everything feels really haphazard.  I think partly I am still just getting used to this new life.  You would think that after all this time I would have gotten used to being away from my bike.  It's still something that I think about though.  Partly I think it's because at this point I could theoretically start riding again if I was willing to accept the heightened risks.  But, I know that it's time to move forward.  Cycling is done with and even if I could go back to riding my bike, racing is over.  Done.  

      Things might be different if I didn't have a family.  It's one thing to risk riding on the road when there is no one depending on you.  It's another when you are married and have two children.  I always knew how closely I flirted with death on a daily basis, but I had gotten so used to the risk that I didn't even think about it.  My accident really hit home the tenuousness of life though.  I wasn't even in a really bad accident, but it still almost killed me.  When I think how often I rode right next to cars that passed inches from me going sixty miles an hour, I am grateful that in all my years riding I wasn't injured worse.  Every day I could have been paralyzed or killed and I never even thought anything of it.  When I think of that, it makes it easier to accept that I can't ride anymore.  

       For the longest time, I always used to say to my wife - you are my highest priority.  In my mind I always knew that if it ever came right down to it, I would choose her over cycling.  When I had my two daughters they too went higher on my list of priorities than cycling.  If you ever asked me what was important to me, I would say family first, cycling second, and everything else after that.  Something I didn't realize though, was that after I became a father, my responsibilities changed.  In the days after my accident it was amazing how clear everything suddenly was.  It wasn't so much that my priorities had changed, but I saw them in a different light.  I had changed over the thirteen years of racing my bike.  I wasn't a boy anymore and it was no longer responsible of me to put myself in harms way.  So, I stopped.  Cold Turkey.  I haven't ridden a bike in almost a year.  Even if my doctor cleared me to ride again I don't know if I would.  I am now fully aware of what I would be risking and have to many responsibilities now to be that careless.  And anyway, now there is no question what my priorities are.  Family first.  And that's it.  Everything else comes second.

     In the mean time, I have to find a way to keep myself balanced without cycling to keep me focused.  This is what normal people do right?  They exercise when they can.  Eat at normal intervals.  And, they find a way to stay balanced without some outside force keeping them in line.  It's up to me now I guess.  In many ways  cycling was a crutch.  Now it's time to move forward without that to help me.  Okay.  I can do this.  I want to do this.  I am excited about this next phase of life.  It's going to be great.  Semper Porro right?

New Normal

    It's closing in on nine months since I broke my neck and I've been reflecting on all that's gone on since then.  I've been so consumed by the day to day that I barely even noticed how dramatically my life has changed.  Now that I don't ride my bike anymore, I have an extra 30 hours or so a week of free time.  In the last few months my wife has decided to pursue her career full time.  It's only fair really.  She's been supportive of me while I pursued cycling during our nine years together.  So, now it's her turn.  Between that and the lack of cycling, I have turned into effectively a stay at home dad.  I am still working, but I am home more than she is these days.  Because of our schedule, I am usually the one to drop off and pick up our daughter from kindergarten each day.   I am usually the only guy there among all the women. Also, because my wife is working more, I've been doing a lot of the cooking, cleaning, and stuff around the house (I think my cooking leaves a little to be desired though).   There is also our one year old daughter to contend with which has kept me very house-bound.  The amount of mental awareness and focus needed to keep track of a one year old in an uncontained space is exhausting.  So, most days I stay in.
     Considering how much of my life had been spent outdoors before my accident, this whole new life I've been living is very weird.  I often long to get out of the house alone.  In many ways, cycling was an escape for me.  It was a way to be out, free and on my own.  Now that that's gone, I find myself staying up till two or three in the morning just so I can get time to myself.  I guess that's one of the things that's surprised me about this whole experience.  Cycling was much more than a way to exercise or even the pursuit of a childhood dream. Partly it was my way of meditating and clearing my head.  It was a way for me to feel good about myself .  I enjoyed setting goals and working towards them.  Also, being home-schooled as a kid, cycling was the one place I felt comfortable socially.  I guess it's easier to feel comfortable about yourself when everyone else looks funny too - what with the shaved legs, funny tan lines, and spandex.  Besides all that, cycling kept me healthy.  Ever since my accident I've had to work really hard to find a way to compensate for all those intangible things that I lost.
     When I think about it, it's amazing how fundamentally different my life is from nine months ago.  I didn't want to dwell on the negative after my accident, so I've been relentlessly pushing forward and moving on with my life.  I want to have accomplished something by the time February 3rd comes around again.  I've made progress on the coaching front.   I am working full time with three athletes who I believe a lot in.  I've also been working away on a book and am writing articles and blogs.  I started running and lifting weights back in August.  The running has been painful, but it's starting to click.  I've had a couple runs now that didn't hurt.  The weight lifting is more straight forward.  I've never lifted weights for my arms before, but I am familiar with it from all my gym work as a cyclist.  I promised my wife that I would bulk up a little after I was done with cycling so I looked less like a concentration camp victim.  Even teaching piano has changed for me.  Before I always saw it as something that helped pay my bills until I turned pro.  Now that I know I won't be racing professionally  I feel I can invest more in my students.   

      In many ways, I feel much more comfortable with the direction my life is going in.  The accident forced me to change directions as well as move forward in areas of my life that were on hold.  I can't say I am completely happy to be going in this new direction, but at the same time I am grateful that I get to keep going forward at all.  It's amazing how close I came to being either dead or paraplegic.  The fact that I get to see my daughters grow up and that I didn't leave them without a dad means so much to me.  In that sense, all I am is grateful.  It's funny, my dad had a back injury of his own right around the time I broke my neck and he has had a long slow recovery.  He said to me this year has been one of the worst years of his life.  I sometimes wonder if he feels that way because his injury was never life threatening.  Maybe you think differently when you know that your injury could have been much more devastating.  
      At this point, I think it's fair to say that I am living a new normal.  I am no longer a cyclist.  Now I am a coach, a writer, and a teacher.  I am more present as a dad and a husband.  I am hopefully even a better person - with more perspective and humility.  Now it's time to see where this new normal will take me.  I want to see some of my athletes win the Tour de France and an Olympic Gold medal.  I want to finish my book and get is published.  I want to see some of piano students make it in the music profession.  I want to see my daughters grow up and make lives of their own.  I want to keep making each day better than the last.  That is my new life.  And you know what, it's not a bad one.       


     

Aches and Pains

     Moving forward isn't without its aches and pains.  My body has mostly healed from my crash, but now I have new things to deal with.  Thousands of hours on my bike had shaped my body into a highly specialized cycling machine.  Riding fifty miles felt like nothing, but even walking half a mile left my legs tired and sore.  My body was oddly proportioned too.  Compared to the average American male I was completely backwards with skinny little twig arms and massive thighs.  My wife used to call me T-Rex.  Now that I am not cycling any more though, I am transitioning to different forms of exercise.  That involves lifting weights and running.  All this change has left me in constant pain.  My feet and knees are constantly aching and swollen. I've gotten blisters where I never thought I would before.  My arms and shoulders feel dead.  There have been times when all this change just frustrates me.  I try not to think about it, but in my weakest moments I long to get back on a bike (and feel the miles slip effortlessly away as I glide over the road).  More than that, I wonder if I am pushing myself too hard.  Should I be doing all this while I am still recovering from a broken neck?  But, I keep pressing on.  There's no choice really.  I can't go back to cycling.  So the only thing to do is go forward.  
     The truth of the matter is, there's always going to be something.  If I let the aches and pains bother me, I probably wouldn't exercise at all.  It's much more comfortable to sit on the couch.  I have to keep moving though.  At some point I am hoping my body will get used to my new exercise routine.  Right now when I run, every stride is painful.  I feel pathetic when I do push-ups.  I am getting stronger though.  Last week I ran 7 miles, which was a big achievement for me.  I can do more than 5 push-ups now too.  
     The hardest part of all this is exercising when I don't want too.  I loved riding my bike.  I don't feel that same love for running, or lifting weights, or anything for that matter though.  I wonder if it will come in time?  For now, I have a schedule and I try to stick to it.  It's not a lot of exercise - only one to two runs a week.  And, my weight routine consists of push-ups and lifting cinder blocks once a week.  Still, it's something to keep me active.  I want to run a marathon before February.  And, I'd like to look a little less like concentration camp victim up top.  Keeping those goals in mind is what gets me moving when I don't want to.  I may not love these new exercises, but I can still set goals for myself and pursue them.  After all, that's how we move forward in life. 
     So, I am going to keep going.  Semper Porro right?  If I can keep moving forward, despite breaking my neck and having my life completely changed, what are a few aches and pains.

I bought a new pair of shoes to run in.  My old ones were dead and if I am going to run a marathon, I figure good shoes are essential.  Hopefully they will help with the aches and pains.