It’s Not About The Bike

Yesterday I finished reading Lance Armstrong’s first book, It’s Not About The Bike. The book chronicles Armstrong’s childhood, relationship with his mother, his pre-cancer cycling career, his marriage and the birth of his son, his post-cancer cycling career and Tour wins, framed by his surviving cancer.

I can’t say that I have ever been a “fan” of Armstrong’s but I would read any news about him with interest, especially when it had to do with him running (something he took a stab out during his brief retirement).

The book has been out for years now and many, many things have happened since it was published including 5 more wins at the Tour de France, making him the only rider to win the race 7 consecutive times, divorce, more kids, retirement and another, more recent come back resulting in a third place finish in the 2009 Tour. However, I had never read it and finally found the time this past week.

Armstrong’s story is riveting and I couldn’t help but cheer for him as I read (knowing full well the outcome, I couldn’t help but get caught up) about his cancer diagnosis and his fight to survive. I nearly cried as he described his first Tour win and then compared it to the birth of his son.

Armstrong didn’t give up on himself, although he came close, and he accepts and even thrives off the pain of his athletic endeavors. As I read about him climbing mountains on his bike, holding off relentless attacks, pushing harder, faster, stronger through the pain, I wondered how I could apply that to my own pursuits.

I may not be fighting for a Tour de France win but I want to be a fighter. While I race, I am not fighting off a whole horde of other runners whose sole mission is to take me down but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t race like there is. Armstrong shows a tremendous amount of passion and confidence while he’s on his bike, why shouldn’t I do the same as I run?

Run like you’re one of the lucky ones.