I Am Not An Inspiration

I am confronted by it all the time – the inevitable comments of "you're such an inspiration" when people hear of my quest to ride in the Paralympics. That because I have a disability and chose to try and overcome it by doing something relatively simple – something that the majority of people reading this right now do on a daily basis – that somehow that makes me a better person. That I should be looked upon as any more worthy than the next person is laughable though. For I am NOT an inspiration, nor have I ever wanted to be one.

I ride a bike because I enjoy it. And I compete because it motivates me to train when I otherwise wouldn't. Competition is one of those yardsticks that you use to measure your progress from month to month and year to year. Beating people that were better than me the year before, or riding a time trial faster than the week before brings with it a sense of personal accomplishment and gives me the motivation I need to keep going, and keep pushing to ride at the highest level. But if you think I do it for any altruistic purpose or to any way inspire other people with a disability (or even the less fit able-bodied athletes out there), you would be sorely mistaken.

I just finished watching a documentary about someone that every single Canadian will know; a young man by the name of Terry Fox. When Terry was 19, he lost his leg to cancer. It was amputated above the knee (quite close the the hip). As I was just 21 years old when I lost my leg, I can relate to his situation in some respects. But that is where the similarities end.

Terry Fox in 1980

In 1980, at the age of 22, Terry decided to embark on one of the most incredible journeys any Canadian has ever made. It is this endeavour that has imprinted his name indelibly upon the consciousness of all Canadians, and indeed many people around the world. Terry decided that he was going to run across Canada to raise money for Cancer research.

In 1980 there was no internet, no 24 hour a day news channels, no satellite TV and artificial leg technology was in the dark ages compared to what it is today. To say that this was a massive undertaking by any standard, let alone modern ones, is something of an understatement. Furthermore, if you know anything about the size of Canada, you'll appreciate how difficult something like this was.

Calling it "the Marathon of Hope", his goal was to try and raise $1 for every one of the 24 million people living in Canada at the time. When the run started in April of 1980, virtually no one had ever even heard of Terry Fox. It was just him and his best friend driving along behind in a camper van. But as the days passed and more and more people began to hear of this extraordinary feat, he quickly became something of a national celebrity. 

Terry Fox ran 3,339 miles in 143 days. That's an average of 23.3 miles a day.... for a 143 days in a row. And while that may not seem that hard, consider this: Terry had his leg amputated slightly below the hip. So he wasn't running all those miles as you might – he did it in such a way that it was almost a 'hop'. 

Tragically, his journey was cut short and he never made it all the way across the country. The cancer that had claimed his leg returned and spread to his lungs. Terry died 9 months later.

To this day, annual fundraising runs are held in his honor all across Canada - and the Terry Fox Foundation has raised over $500 million dollars (£330 million). He is a TRUE inspiration to so many people – not only for what he attempted, but because that is what he WANTED to do. He wanted to show cancer patients that life can go on, that the disease doesn't have to rule your life. He chose to put himself forward as something to aspire to – and is still considered a national hero by most Canadians. And while he isn't the reason behind why I do what I do, it certainly gives me pause to think when I consider what he achieved and how that pales in comparison to riding a bike for a few hours a day.

I Wish it Could be Christmas Every Day

Me. Frozen and tired. But happy!

Bah Humbug. I hate Christmas with a passion. I really do. The carols, cards, presents, family, snow, Santa, and so on. I just can't stand any of it - and probably have been this way ever since I was a child.

But there IS one good thing about Christmas Day: the fact that most people are home with their families – leaving the roads clear of traffic! So today I headed out for my (now) annual Christmas tradition: a long bike ride in the cold!

Two years ago my marriage fell apart during the Christmas holidays (in retrospect another reason to like Christmas). I think the stress of dealing with 15 different family members, the dinner, presents for everyone, trying not to gain 20 pounds, and the fact that I just don't like this time of year was just too much to handle. By New Year's Day we hadn't spoken to each other for almost a week and parted ways.

The deserted dual carriageway

That meant that last Christmas I was on my own for the first time in my life. Not wanting to stay at home alone, I grabbed my bike, tossed it in the back of my car and drove out to a local race circuit. I spent the next 3 hours going around and around the circuit – up the climbs, down the hills, along the dual carriageway; all the while with barely a car in sight. It must be the only day of the year where you can have the road almost entirely to yourself.

When I was done I headed home to relax, and treated myself to a roast chicken dinner. No sweets, fattening deserts, alcohol, mince pies or anything else that was likely to pile on the pounds. The upshot of all this – while most of my competition was sat around gaining weight and losing fitness, I was out on the road getting fitter. I guess there's just something about riding on Christmas Day that makes me feel like a 'real' athlete, instead of just a recreational rider. 

By early January I was in the best shape of my life. The dedication to cycling I showed over the Christmas period really was starting to pay off. Had I not injured my back and lost about a month recovering, I probably would have been in absolute peak condition by the time racing season started. With the carrot of peak fitness dangling in front of me (and a World Championships fast-approaching this March), it's no wonder that I headed out again today to repeat this new tradition.

Frozen landscape on the drive there

Although it meant a bit of a drive to get there, I opted to go back to the same race circuit as last year. If you're going to continue a tradition, you have to follow the same routine as the previous year! True to form, the roads were virtually deserted. The one main difference from last year however, is the massive discrepancy in temperature. Last year it was positively balmy compared to the minus 10 degree weather I faced today. That, along with lots of snow and ice along the side of the roads made it a little risky, but I soon found the best line to take on the route. 

For the next two hours I pounded my way around the circuit – 7 times in total. There's a steep little climb in the middle, just to put a sting in the legs and give the lungs a workout. My hands went numb a few times from the cold and my face felt like it had been punched repeatedly and shot full of novacaine, but by the time I returned to my car, I really was glad I had made the trip.

So once again, while my competition is tucking into a fattening meal, I'm out there pounding the pavement and keeping my fitness at peak levels; all with no traffic on the roads. If every day was like this.... I would be World Champion in no time! And as much as I hate the day, I still would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! Now I'm off to prepare my roast chicken dinner...