Get Back on the Bike

Heroes come in many different forms, functions, and relationships. I've actually never claimed one "hero" in my life, mainly because it sounds so cliche. It sounds so melo-dramatic. But after reading "It's Not About the Bike" by Lance Armstrong, I decided he is one of my heroes.

Reading this book taught me that "fighting" isn't always about flexing the largest financial muscles or accumulating the most "wins" in life - sometimes fighting is about the resilient voice at the end of the day that says, "I will try again tomorrow."

When you think about Lance Armstrong, what's the first image that comes to mind? For most people, it's him wearing the beloved "yellow jersey" (the one that the leader of the race wears) raising his hands in victory, kissing his mom or his wife, with a huge smile on his face.

But if you read his book, you'll see that for every victory, there were 7 setbacks. For every triumph, there were more obstacles. He paints a picture, not of a man wearing the yellow jersey, but of a man stuck in a bed with chemo running through his system - just to stay alive.

He paints a picture of a man who refused to quit, no matter what the "odds" were. He paints a picture of a man who fell off his bike, time after time, but always got back on. He paints a picture of a man who I'm striving to be.

I've been brokenhearted, I've fallen off the bike (a couple times actually), and I've been tempted to quit. I've been tempted to lay on the ground and bitch about my situation. There's probably always going to be that voice in the back of my mind that says, "But what if you can't do it?"

Lance heard that voice too, but refused to listen.

And so do I.

When I was in college, I led a mission trip to Boston. Our goal was to serve the homeless, the orphans, and the widows in the local area for one week. I made a commitment to teach, lead, and organize a group of 15 people.

A girl I was dating at the time was also on the trip. Things got really hectic in our relationship and I told her I needed space to be able to fully dedicate myself to leading the group. We were obviously both upset. She called her dad that night and he flew her home the next morning - and paid for her ticket.

I called my mom. "Mom, I want to come home."

And I will never forget what she said.

"Son, you're not going anywhere. You're staying in Boston and you're going to lead the group because you made a commitment. You're not going to quit. I didn't raise you to give up."

And that's exactly what I did. I got back on the bike.

So here I am, 3 years later, frustrated as hell with where I am in life, but also, more optimistic than I've ever been because I know what I've done in the past when I've fallen off the bike.

Thank you mom, for making me stay in Boston, for making me get back on the bike. KL.