My son sent me a text message the other day railing about Lance Armstrong and his admission to doping. As we traded text messages, I pondered why I was not upset about Lance’s revelation. It came to me calmly, but with a sly bit of pun… “It’s not about Lance”.
I am a cyclist, probably not the most avid cyclist, but have ridden for the past 25 years. The sport came to me while I was single and living in Denver. I marveled at the racers in the Coors Classic, which included the top Greg LeMond and Bernard Hinault as well as an up and coming kid named Lance Armstrong. My friends and relatives know my love for the sport, so it is no surprise they consider my reaction to Lance’s revelation. I believe they are all shocked, when I exclaim, “I really is not about Lance, but about the feat”.
It may have been different, but 4 years ago I was in an accident that nearly crippled me. While sitting in the hospital bed, I went numb when my surgeon said, “I am sure you will walk again”. Staring at the blank wall, through the fog of a morphine drip, I was sure my days of cycling were over. I have always been active and the sound of the surgeon’s voice pounded in my head like a carpenter’s hammer on a large black nail.
However, as I laid there I thought of other people going through much more than myself. My mind turned to Greg LeMond and Lance Armstrong. Greg LeMond was injured in a hunting accident and Lance Armstrong faced the final stages of testicular cancer. Both, firmly within the grips of black death, yet fought back to win the most grueling cycling race in the world. I thought, a glimmer of hope growing, if they can do that, then I am sure I can get back on a bike. Did I think of drugs and doping, not really, I was happy on my morphine drip and feeling little pain.
What was it for me? It was their journey. It was the fact that sometime, sitting in the hospital bed, they said “I am coming back”. The first shaky step, the first panic of fear placing your leg on the seat, the first terrifying mile. That is what I focused on, not the fact that they won, but that they DID. That is what I got from Greg LeMond and Lance Armstrong. They nearly died and some time in there, they made a commitment to get up and ride. I was determined to sit on my bike again and I was determined to ride again.
Now, you won’t see me on the cycling circuit, but my goal is to be where I was 10 years ago. A lot lighter and riding about 100 miles a week. Also, that year I participated in 4 100 mile bike rides – I hope to do at least 3 this year. Is this because of Lance Armstrong or Greg LeMond? I can honestly say, “No!”. However, this is because of people like them that have faced incredible trials and not given up! I have seen a friend of mine in Savannah face cancer as well as other personal trials that would level most people. Her attitude in life, as well as most every other cancer survivor, is the best inspiration to get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself.
So, am I mad at Lance or disappointed in Lance? No, I don’t know Lance any more than I know Joe the Plumber. I don’t have a personal relationship and Lance did not lie directly to me. Lance has his demons and I am sure there are people that were close to him that have the right to be mad or disappointed. But for me, it was never about Lance or Greg or any other entertainer.
It is about the journey and God’s assurance that he would not give you a task that you can’t over come. It is about the painful first step, the intermediate goals that drive you. It is about the sense of accomplishment riding 40 miles with your son on a hot Savannah day. It is about getting your butt off the hospital bed and making yourself better than you were before. Don’t take that away from Livestrong or the millions of people focusing on the fact that people can live through devastation.
Yeah, it’s not about Lance.