"It's Not About the Bike" in review...

I just finished listening to the audio version of Lance Armstrong's book "It's Not About the Bike." I was glad for the audio version because I liked the idea that it's actually him talking on the CD. Hearing someone tell their story seems so much more personal than a paper version of a book or even hearing someone else read words on a page - kind of like Bill Clinton's book. He has the best voice and therefore, his book on CD was so much better than the paper version; however, I think this thought process almost backfired on this particular book...

Initially, I had mixed feelings about the book because I had heard an interview with Lance where he seemed so down to earth and nice, but listening to the book sort of shook up my impressions of him. I went back and forth several times within the course of the book on whether or not I liked it, or Lance. I guess I figured anyone who would start a cancer support website and a foundation must be this overwhelmingly friendly, humble, and kind man. For example, I once heard an interview with Alonzo Mourning of the Miami Heat who suffered through a kidney disease and kidney transplant. He appeared to be one of the most gracious and seemingly humble people who I have heard in an interview. I guess I expected the same out of this book. It was a bit like expecting to take a sip of milk and getting liquor or something.

With that said, as I listened to Lance read his own words, I began to understand that while he still seems like a nice guy, there is a certain cockiness that goes hand in hand with being the “best” at something. Although I will admit that I think secretly I was also bugged by him because he reminded me of someone I know (I won’t say who), I was also bugged a little at his pride and lack of modesty when he talked about how he dealt with people. I guess, though, professionally competitive athletes have to be self-assured because without self-confidence they wouldn't have the strength to endure the grueling abuse they put themselves through to win. They have to be able to assure themselves that they are worth the trouble and therefore they must check their meekness at the door. I wonder if the ability to survive such a horrendous illness is also tied to that same introspection and confidence. After all, Lance himself compared his battle with cancer to a bike race; one challenging hill after another to face.

The word cancer is like a distant call in the woods on the trail of life. People tend to throw it around like it's nothing anymore (especially at a hospital or doctors office where it is so predominant), since so many people seem to have had it. You somehow assume that it is on some far-off pathway in the backwoods, but you never really take it seriously until you accidentally stumble upon it. Then, you have no choice but to accept its reality and even then you never really “get” how strong human beings are until you understand what it takes to wade through this type of disaster. Working at a hospital, one can't help but be affected when you see people come and go through therapy (even when you are not directly involved with their treatment). Oddly, in the time I have been at the hospital I have never seen a negative oncology patient. So many of them have stopped by my desk to check in and tell me how great they are doing. I think that may be the key to survival. As easy as it is to be struck down with grief, patients with this illness don't have that luxury. It takes strength, but more importantly, it takes confidence.

So let me make a small confession here: I am weak. Awhile ago someone very near and dear to me was diagnosed with cancer. When I found out, I was weak, sick to my stomach, and deeply saddened for days with the odds that were given. Everything - school, work, food - everything seemed insignificant, but this person never seemed to waiver in their strength. They never even talked about it really. Compared to this other person, I am Jello. Thank God that this person had strength and thank God for all of the survivors' strength because I believe it empowers them to conquer what they have, or at least do their best against the odds.

So, back to Lance... As the story went on, I went from being disappointed that I bought a book about a guy who seemed so dang cocky, to feeling a twinge of pride for him. As the story grows, so does Lance. You can literally see him grow - mentally. He goes from a somewhat conceded and a bitter young man who seems angry at the men in his life, to a sensitive person that is an inspiration to children (an others) coping with cancer. It is almost overwhelming when hearing him talk about how he was able to overcome the odds and mental strife to survive, to thrive, to have kids even, and to be normal. I became proud of his accomplishments, even though I don't even know the guy and even though I almost turned the book off in the beginning.

So the conclusion to my ramblings is that the book made me realize two things: People need to have more confidence in themselves than anyone else because often we are our own cheering squad. We don't always have someone else around to get us through the tough times, although, Lance had his share of support. I also learned that whether Lance is cocky, conceded, and overly self-assured doesn't really matter. The truth is that his attitude got him through tough times, but more importantly, his attitude has gotten others through tough times. He has left a legacy in biking, but also in the world of cancer where people who are at their worst can always say "Lance did it. Lance beat odds worse than these and he survived. Anything is possible." He was one of the worst cases doctors had seen, but made it through; therefore, if he wasn't so self-assured, he may not be around to inspire others. So, in the end, the book was definitely worth the read and even made my eyes well up. Shhh, don't tell. ;)