Tuesday, January 17, 2012

If you don't puke a bit and re-swallow, you're not going hard enough...


One of my earliest memories of the bike was being totally blown away at how the two wheeled machine stayed upright. At rest, the bike falls over unless something is holding it up. But when moving, it somehow magically stays upright. As a very young kid, I remember this being one of the coolest and amazing things that I had ever seen. Then I learned how to ride and fell madly in love…

I’m not sure if it’s the thrill of the speed along with the g-forces felt during the ride that I enjoy the most. The whole concept of a roller coaster is built on this thrill… But unlike an amusement park ride, a bike ride is free (once you own a bike) and there is no waiting in line. The bicycle, such an efficient machine that enables you to travel long distances with minimal effort compared to all other human-powered means of travel. Looking back, all I remember is that growing up I just couldn’t get enough of it…

After Adele’s Type 1 diagnosis in 2002, the bike became one of my saviors. I was pissed and I channeled a lot of this anger right into the pedals. The more that I realized how complex this whole Type 1 gaming was and how it affected every single aspect of our life, the more I became obsessed with doing what it took to not let it slow me down and the more I needed to ride. The complex trials and tribulations of Type 1 gaming pushed me go harder. I wanted to run (or in my case ride) away from it all. The physical pain of pushing oneself on a bicycle was very good at masking, dulling or burying the deep pain inflicted upon me by Adele’s Type 1 life sentence. In a way I felt guilty for having a much simpler life by not having Diabetes myself as well as having passed on my defective genes which caused Adele’s immune system to go haywire and destroy her ability to produce insulin. The bike became my own personal medieval torture device with which I punish myself regularly.


But after nearly 10 years, the anger and guilt towards the Diabetes diagnosis is beginning to lift and as a result I started questioning myself about the whole bike thing. Why bother? What the hell am I trying to prove? Why do I keep getting back on, chasing I’m not really sure what? Why do I bother lining up at the start line after signing up (and paying) for a sure beating in the local “who the hell really cares” bike race that I most often have absolutely no chance of winning? Why do I keep pushing myself to a point of near annihilation mostly chasing kids less than half my age? I’m an ordinary, average, mid-pack amateur master bike racer spending way more money than I will ever earn from the sport. But, in Adele’s eyes I’m the absolute very best damn cyclist in the universe.

Suddenly, it makes so much sense. It’s not about results or finishing first. It’s about being a role model for Adele by continuously and consciously seeking self-imposed physical suffering and discomfort in order to cultivate growth and forward movement. The bike has taught me so much about discipline, sacrifice, friendship, teamwork, perseverance, dedication, self-confidence and suffering, all character traits necessary to be a successful Type 1 gamer. And to think that this realization came to me when life really makes the most sense… when I'm riding my bike.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Really well said Mike. You have gone through a metamorphisis on the bike over the years i've known you, in a sense maturing. Your reasons for riding have changed but they are still moving you forward in the most positive and sustainable of ways.

Don R.

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Diabetes311 said...

My own dads life and his discipline was an inspiration in helping me to manage my Type 1 with a very low carb diet. He constantly reminded me about the power of patience and self control. It has paid off for me thus far and your discipline will likely do the same for Adele. All the best and thanks for blogging.

Scully said...

"...my own personal medieval torture device with which I punish myself regularly."
Thats what the bike is to ME. :)
This post is amazing. I question why I spend so much money on running races when I spend all my time at the back of the pack.
It's about being a role model. for who? for myself :) And now I start racing on 2 wheels. I love this post.

Sarah said...

this is a beautiful tribute to why we do so much as parents, yes it may not make sense, but above all to that beautiful daughter of yours you are always the front of the pack, I bet she just waits in anticipation of you crossing her path so she can cheer - not even noticing who is before or after, her eyes just search for you. Thank goodness you see that, that she isn't worried about your placement but sees your perseverance. You are a great role model to us all :) Thank you for going on and sharing your incredible stories with us!

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