Sometimes it is about the bike...

We’re just back from our vacation in New England. It was a family trip, but I still managed to fit in some quality time on two wheels. Adele got her day at the Coco Keys water theme park, my wife (and Adele) got their shopping day and I got a day to race my bike.

The race course was dry, fast, flowing and had a bit of everything to challenge cyclists of all levels. About 350 riders had made the trip to the Massuchusetts cross-country mountain bike championships on Sunday, August 1st in a small town called Oxford outside of Boston. As I lined up on the start line I had absolutely no idea where I fit in with my competition. It would all be sorted out in a few minutes. The start was quite painful as usual. Eventually my body figured out how to deal with my effort and I settled comfortably in 3rd position in my age group at the end of the 2nd of 4 laps. Not long after that I heard someone come up behind me. As I glanced over my shoulder, I noticed his plate number: 424. He was in my category. We rode together for the next 1.5 laps. I’d distance myself from him in the technical sections but he’d motor back onto my wheel on the road sections. He’d never pass me. He just sucked my wheel. I managed to get away on the loose rocky climb and rode really hard to try to maintain the gap, but he eventually caught back up to me. Having burnt almost all of my matches trying to stay away, he passed me. In my lactic acidic spent state, I just sat up and gave up. I just let him go.

Then, as my head dropped in defeat, I got a quick glimpse of the blue band on my left wrist. The words ‘Cure Diabetes’ are written on this JDRF wrist band that I was proudly wearing, but all that was showing was the word ‘Diabetes’. I then thought of all of Adele’s used needles that I had disposed of that morning (and stabbed myself in the process). I thought of the highs and lows that Adele had endured because of the new “routine” since being on vacation for the last few days and what each and every person living with Type 1 deals with… constantly… each and every day… 24/7… At that point, adrenaline and passion overtook the physical pain that I had been feeling a few seconds earlier. Screw you Diabetes and screw you # 424!! I shifted onto my big ring and started pouring every single watt of power that I had left into the pedals. I caught and passed # 424. As the last few molecules of my last energy gel reached my leg muscles, I dropped into the last section of single track taking the fast but more technical line between 2 huge rocks. I couldn’t make any mistakes. I was cleaning the section faster than all of my other laps. Then, my front wheel suddenly washed out on one of the loose corners. As my foot came out of my pedal and I went off course, # 424 flew by me, stood up and sprinted away. I had lost. As it turned out, we were racing for 4th instead of 3rd (last podium spot) which alleviated the agony of defeat a bit.

As I was cleaning up after the race I realized that even if I didn’t get to step on the podium that day, I still won. I carried on with passion and managed to find inspiration through pain and suffering. I managed to tap deeper into my unlimited energy supply (by the way, you too have one of these). I managed to avoid the temptation to just sit up and coast. I had fully and completely lived despite… I had practiced what I preach to Adele…

My 2010 cycling adventures are still far from done. There’s another very important date that has been circled on my calendar for quite some time now… From Saturday, August 14th to Tuesday, August 17th, I will be riding my bike as part of the Maritimes team in the national Cyclebetes relay to raise funds to find a cure for Juvenile Diabetes. During these 4 days, we will cover 1000 kms biking from Halifax to the Quebec border.

You can help me reach my goal by donating here:
http://jdrfca.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=777&participantID=44614

Stay tuned for updates on my Cyclebetes adventures here on the Type 1 Game…