With 2012 wrapped up and planning for the 2013 season well under way, it's time to take a quick look back. I have to say, I never would have imagined 75% of how this past season unfolded. A death at a race, getting run down, and the aftermath of the "accident" that dragged on and on. By the end of this season, I was cooked. Physically I was fine, mentally I was done. It really hit me in early to mid November when at first it was just skipping one weekend ride and taking a day off. Why not I thought, it's the off season. Work travel had picked up to a relentless pace keeping me away from the bike more days than I liked during the week. Overall I didn't worry; it was time to let the body recover anyway. Besdies, there was no reason to ride other than fun, plain and simple fun. No training, no intervals, no hill repeats, just fun. But as work began to wear on me with long trips and longer hours, I began skipping more and more weekend rides in favor of resting and relaxing. There were days that I didn't even want to touch the bike. What was going on, I always want to ride?! It wasn't long before I realized how much I needed a break. Eventually work subsided and I started thinking back. Crap, 2012 was a rough year for riding!
After an extremely solid start to the season, the first bump came in mid March. Markus Bohler's death in the Bethel Spring Series was certainly a shock to the amateur cycling ranks in the NE, let alone the fact that it happened only a mere handful of bike lengths behind me. After racing cars for over 8 years, I am certainly no stranger to the risks we take and the possible consequences...including death. Despite that, Markus' death seemed wrong, out of place. My teammate Jimmy Jung rode with me that day to and from the race and recently penned a nice article (as nice as could be given the subject) for Velonews that appeared in their December 2012 "danger" issue. Check it out if you get a chance (Velonews - A death in the family). Ironically, I had no idea how soon I would be facing my own brush with death. Less than two weeks later while riding through a green light on a glorious sunny Friday afternoon, I found myself at the business end of a full size work van with nowhere to go. I'll never forget the feeling of seeing that van moments before impact knowing I was about to get nailed and there was nothing I could do. I'll also never forget laying in bed that night, never more thankful to simply be alive...a scene that would repeat itself every night before going to sleep and every morning when I woke for over a week. As you read that it's easy to think "well sure, I'm thankful to be alive too" but that is to miss the point. Rarely do you ever experience such pure, perfect, and untarnished thankfulness for your own life until you come face to face with losing it. That was the first time I ever felt this so clearly and about my own life, a sobering realization of how different things could have been. Hopefully that's something most never have to experience. And while the physical injuries would heal and most of the pain would fade with time, the memories and emotional impact proved much more difficult to overcome than I ever imagined. The thankfulness, then anger, and finally depression far outlasted the physical damage to my body. With the patients, understanding, and support of my amazing wife along with family, friends, and teammates, I slowly dragged myself through my own process and started rebuilding my body for a second time in 2012. It took a while...actually, it took a looooong while but I started making progress. Getting back in the peloton was easy and comforting...even squeezed in a pack of 80 riders plummeting down a nearly 3 mile descents at 45+ mph on beat-up pavement. Getting back in the peloton was definitely an important step toward moving forward. Unfortunately the smackdowns I had to withstand were utterly demoralizing at times. I even quit moments before the start of stage 3 at the ToC, all kitted up and ready to go. And then a little while later I found Floyd Bennett Field. Who knew I'd rediscover my love of the bike and the race at an old, abandoned, pancake flat, windy airfield?! Racing so pure and gritty. And then a few weeks later my perseverance paid off with an amazing race back in the Catskills...mere miles from where I quit only a couple months earlier. You won't find my name anywhere near the top of the results but you will find my teammate's name in second after nearly winning. Miles from the finish line, I went deeper than I have in a long, long time. I suffered from a deep, dark place when no one else was willing or more likely able. A place that had eluded me, a place I sorely needed to visit. And I fought to stay there as long as I possibly could. I was angry, I was slaying demons, I was making things right...both in the race and deep down inside. I was also having the time of my life.
After that race, I competed in a couple more Floyd Bennett races with varying levels of success/failure that only that place can produce. But mostly, I was already coasting into the off season. 2012 was a tough season and now it's time to move on to 2013 and a fresh start. But this post isn't about 2013 so that will have to wait for another day. Until then, adios 2012!
