Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Clarity and a Peace offering

How do I know that I’m doing enough training for the upcoming Ironman? I’m just about right when I’m trying to figure out ways to sleep at work, without people realizing that I’m actually sleeping. You know, the same way we tried to pull this off in high school? So, I figured I would drop in for a little bit, and end on a bit of a rant.

Training is good. The only rough thing is that there is a lot of it lately. I remember the good ole’ days when once a day training was the norm, and a two a days were “pushing the envelope.” Now, two a days are commonplace, and three a days are getting me on the bleeding edge. It’s amazing how the body adjusts to workout stress. Instead of accepting the adjustment, we continue to push that fitness envelope in search of the tired feeling that coddles us and comforts us into thinking that we have a proper workload for the upcoming race.
While I was still trying to recover from Gulf Coast last week, I was definitely still in need of some coddling. The highlights last week were a ride I’m not allowed to talk about, but will hence to forth be known only as “The 135”, and a brutal ride the next day with Mucho work followed by a brick run whose pace will only be described as “not cool”. So all in all, a pretty basic week. On Thursday, I’m packing up the trunks, runners, and wheels to go all Peter Reid one last time before Ironman. A place where the men are men, the sheep are nervous, and roads to nowhere go on for miles surrounded only by cotton fields. That’s right, Lake Bruin baby! It’s a great place to train, sleep, rinse, repeat. All the while not being distracted by anything remotely resembling technology (i.e. cell phone reception, Wi-Fi, and other fun time wasters). I’m even kicking around the idea of bringing the iScoot up there for some Motor pacing mayhem. But the jury is still out on that one.
Speaking of the iScoot, I have been riding it plenty but haven’t chased it yet. Benny is still willing to humble his 180+ mph machine to dragging me up and down the Youngsville/Abbeville highway, so the iScoot has been relegated to street go-kart, and general fun runner. Every time I ride that thing, I feel kind of like I’m breaking the law. Commuting shouldn’t be this fun.
Onto yesterday’s motor pacing session, and a bit of a rant with a splash of clarity. At the end of another successful (by successful I mean that I’m not sure if I wanna cry or wet my pants, or both at the end of the ride) session, Benny and I pull up to the corner of our route that pretty much signifies the end of the ride. It’s a long flat road, with a dip and a small incline, and we always drag race to finish the session with a high top speed. Anyway, off to the left was a lady, her car, a truck, and two of Youngsville’s finest in their squad cars. I noticed some fresh paint on the road, and the officers’ looking at us funny. Later on, I find out that only 20-30 minutes earlier at that exact corner, Jonathan Falgout was struck by the woman I saw sobbing by her car. While Jon and I aren’t close, I consider him a friend, a great ambassador for the sport of cycling, and a hard working athlete. At first, a feeling of panic rolled through my body, as this could have very easily been me that got hit. Same route, same time, same typical post-work driver carelessly going home and saying “Damn it! These skinny queers are just taking up the road. What the hell are they doing? Don’t they know it’s my time to go home. They are so inconsiderate! They need to get a damn job!” Or even worse, and in the case of this woman, she just wasn’t paying attention and never saw Jonathan till it was too late. Then I thought about this woman. I hope that she was sobbing because she temporarily took a dedicated, focused and hard working athlete out of the sport that he has sacrificed so much time and effort toward, instead of sobbing that she might be ticketed or her insurance go up. Then I thought about what I’d like to say to her if I had known the instant that our eyes met on that corner, that she had just hit Jonathan.
“See ma’am, you see a biker in tight clothes lying bloodied and battered on the asphalt with a shiny red, mangled bike tossed on the side of him. What I wish you would see are the tens of thousands of miles in his legs. I wish that you would see the dreams that he carries deep inside of him for the season ahead. Or the group of buddies that depend on him for stories and jokes on those long weekend rides, while depending on him to pull them back into the race or chase down a break in the heat of battle. I wish you would see the people that constitute his fan base, and watch with baited breath every pedal stroke of every race, hoping that his form is good, and cheering for him as today might just be his day for victory. See ma’am, I hope you and all of the other drivers see these things; not because cyclists’ want praise, awe or fame. I want you to see all of this so you realize we aren’t so different from each other after all. Cycling is a blue collar sport. Just like the job you put in countless hours at, cycling demands countless hours and miles for even the smallest hint of achievement, success and satisfaction. Sure, it’s a hobby and an extracurricular activity, but it’s a hard life and hard work nonetheless. And we fit it in the hard miles whether it be early, late, rainy, cold, windy, hot, or we plum just don’t feel like riding. We aren't solely bike racers. We are people just like you, strapped with life's responsibilities. We are husbands, fathers, youth coaches, doctors, engineers, accountants, students, mechanics, technicians and a million other different backgrounds. We fit it the hard miles around work, kids’ sporting events, family gatherings, birthday parties, etc. So see, ma’am, we aren’t so different from each other. I am very thankful that, while this was a tragic accident, Jonathan will be riding again soon. I hope that you and other drivers take away a lot more than you hit a biker, and he’s lucky to be alive. I hope you take away a respect for us for our dedication and sacrifice to get the hard miles in, no matter what; as we respect you for your desire to get home quickly and safely after a hard day’s work. Two blue collar people, sharing the same space in the universe for a split second in time. And maybe with this twinge of respect, we’ll co-exist peacefully as we both go up the road.”

Get well soon, Jonathan. God’s speed on your recovery.

Jonathan leading the TTT smackdown at a local race.

1 comment:

Jonathan Falgout said...

Dear John Fell,

I am not a poet as your self with great words but want to share my deep feelings after reading yours.

Today two weeks and one day to the hour of the crash I read your poem by chance. I have been keeping my chin up and amazed nurses of my will to recover, however today I was feeling my worst emotionally yet and just plain bummed. After the visit to the doc’s for a check up x-ray, I was brought to tears and a sunken heart finding out that I probably wont be able to race at my peak this year. Your heart felt letter puts into words of exactly how I felt when the doctor told me not to get on my bike for 3 months. My wife read your poem to me as I could not stop crying with the feelings of all the hard work taken away in an instant. My business that suffers greatly without me there, my wife being stressed trying to keep routine of life plus now taking care of me, my employees who are working harder than ever to try to keep up the pace of work, and my self who is ever restless from having so much to take care of and not being able to do anything but watch it happen. I loved your letter and it was at impeccable timing giving me hope to carry on and do what I can / need to do. To the young lady, I forgive you and pray that you can forgive your self and not let your heart sink into despair.

In the long run I will be fine, other days will come, and peace will be restored for every one. Most importantly I realized that I am lucky to be alive and not to sweat the small stuff.

Thank you John for your words of encouragement and I will come back!
To every one else, thank you so very much for all the help, love, prayers and support!
Never quit! Keep riding, running, swimming, and keep challenging life to the fullest! You only have one!

Jonathan Falgout