Boone…

In 2000, if my memory is to be trusted, I read Lance Armstrongs book, It’s Not About The Bike. I loved his story. He survived cancer. He then quit cycling and went on to make one of the greatest comebacks in sports history. He got back on the bike and won 7 Tour’s of France.

He quit.

After surviving cancer he droped out of the Paris – Nice race and said he would never race again.

His COACH had another idea. Chris Carmichael, his coach, talked him into doing one more training camp in Boone, N.C. and then he could quit. At least that way he wouldn’t look like such a slug. Lance agreed. While climbing Beech Mountain, Lance changed…his mind. Here’s an exerpt from his book…check it out.

“Toward the end of the camp, we decided to ride Beech Mountain. Chris knew exactly what he was doing when he suggested it, because there was a time when I owned that mountain. It was a strenuous 5,000 foot climb with a snaowcapped summit, and it had been the crucial stage in my two Tour Du Pont victories. I remembered laboring on up the mountainside with crowds lined along the route, and how they had painted my name across the road: ‘Go Armstrong.’

We rode and rode through a steady rain, for four hours, and then five. By the time we got to the foot of Beech, I’d been on the bike for six hours, drenched. But I lifted myself up out of the saddle and propelled the bike up the incline, leaving Bob Roll behind.

As I started up the rise, I saw an eerie sight: the road still had my name painted on it.

My wheels spun over the washed out old yellow and white lettering. I glanced down between my feet. It said, Viva Lance.

I continued upward and the mountain grew steeper. I hammered down on the pedals, working hard, and felt a small bloom of sweat and satisfaction, a heat under my skin almost like a liquor blush. My body reacted instinctively to the climb. Mindlessly, I rose out of my seat and picked up the pace. Suddenly, Chris pulled up behind me in the follow car, rolled down his window, and began driving me on. ‘Go, go, go!’ he yelled. I glanced back at him. ‘Allez Lance, allez, allez!’ he yelled. I mashed down on the pedals, heard my breath grow shorter, and I accelerated.

That ascent triggered something in me. As I rode upward, I refelected on my life, back to all points, my childhood, my early races, my illness, and how it changed me. Maybe it was the primitive act of climbing that made me confront the issues I’d been evading for weeks. It was time to quit stalling, I realized. Move, I told myself. If you can still move, you aren’t sick.

As I continued upward, I saw my life as a whole. I saw the pattern and the privilege of it, and the PURPOSE of it, too. It was simply this:

I WAS MEANT FOR A LONG, HARD CLIMB.”

Tonight, me and my cycling buddies leave for Boone. There will be ten of us in total. We are headed to Beech Mountain. This is our sixth trip back there. I’m headed up Beech again with two guys that have never been. One is a colleague. One is a client. Both are my friends. This will be a long, hard climb. This will be cool.

Lance inspired this trip.

I hope this note inspries YOU!