Superman exists only in comic books

As I looked out the window of our hotel, overlooking Main Highway in Coconut Grove, FL, wave after wave of bicyclists rode by, singly and in groups of as many as 20 or more. It was a moving parade of kaleidoscopic jerseys over black spandex, rolling by on bikes some of which were probably worth up to five figures. We can largely thank Lance Armstrong for the current popularity of cycling in the U.S.  

I wanted to believe Lance was clean. So long as he continued to vehemently deny doping, and all of his testing was clean, it was possible to hold to the pleasant fiction that perhaps, just perhaps, he was the real deal: the cancer victim who returned from near death to win 7 Tours de France and establish one of the most powerful and successful organizations to fight cancer in the world. We love our heroes, especially those who overcome overwhelming odds.

Still, there was always that small nagging cynical thought that just wouldn’t go away, like a gnat that keeps buzzing around your head and just won’t leave you alone. How, in a sport so rife with doping, against a field of the best cyclists in the world, could someone be so dominant, year after year, without doping themselves? It just didn’t seem possible. Alas, it wasn’t. Superman, after all is said and done, is still just a comic book hero.

Am I disappointed? Yes. Do I hate Lance? No. None of us can truly know the internal and external pressures on someone like Lance to excel and achieve. As someone once said, thousands of years ago, “let him who is without sin cast the first stone”. Lance, after all, is human and, therefore, flawed. No one can deny his drive, desire, and passion that let him to the podium seven times in the Tour. Perhaps it was that overarching fire to win, to succeed at any cost, that led him to cheat. Perhaps the pressure of cheating by his peers, and the knowledge that without doing this himself he could never be competitive, led to his decision. Ultimately, in a sport in which cheating was built into its very fabric, he was not only the best cyclist, he was the best cheater as well. What mitigates this is that, to a degree unique among elite athletes, Lance used his success to help others. No other athlete has ever had the positive influence on so many people as Lance through his Livestrong foundation. Maybe it was his stab at absolution for the rest of his life.

Many will say his “confession” on Oprah was an expedient move, borne of desperation and as coldly calculated as any of his Tour wins. For my part, I think he had to do this at some time. To live the lie that he did for so long must surely have been as corrosive as acid to his spirit. At some time he would have confessed, or he would have died, spiritually if not physically.

While I have never had cancer, as a physician I treat cancer and hold Livestrong in high regard for its advocacy on behalf of cancer victims, survivors, and their family. It is a force to be reckoned with in the ongoing battle against this scourge and, doubtless, if and when cancer is finally defeated, Livestrong will have played a major role. On a more personal note, Lance got me back on the bike. I cycled all through college but abandoned the bike in favor of motorized transportation from medical school on. Only after watching one of Lance’s victories in the Tour was I inspired to get back to riding and I have continued to benefit from this marvelous activity ever since. It has helped me stay fit when running began to take a toll on my legs. It has re-connected me with old friends and brought me a new group of friends who also love to cycle. It has given me the opportunity to raise over over $20,000 in the past 4 years for the Multiple Sclerosis Society of Central Florida through their annual Citrus Tour cycling event. For all these, I owe Lance a debt of gratitude.

Lance’s story and cycling prowess fueled his success as the founder and major fundraiser for Livestrong. Neither could have done this alone. Inspiring cancer survivor stories are, unfortunately, a dime a dozen. Successful athletes exist in every sport. Only the unique combination Lance brought to the table could have allowed him to accomplish what he did. As his personal house of cards has collapsed and he has lost all that was clearly dear to him, I hope we all realize, “there but for the grace of God could go I” and avoid judging too harshly. In addition, let us pray that Livestrong will outlive Lance. For now, the Livestrong bracelet stays on my wrist.

Florida Ironman Training Log-

This week I traveled to Miami to lay my Dad to rest next to my Mom. It is weird to think that, now, I am the “patriarch” of the family. I’m not sure I am ready for that role but, in life, we often have roles thrust upon us before we are truly prepared. I hope that I live a life of example to my kids, and to my grandkids and others around me. This week I decided to make an appointment with the National Triathlon Center in Clermont, FL, just down the rode about 30 min from my house. It doesn’t make sense not to use this great resource. I decided against Carmichale Training Systems because, in the final analysis, I don’t believe there is any doubt the Chris Carmichael could have worked with Lance so closely through 7 Tours and not known of the doping. Since that built his reputation, I don’t want to support that.

The swims felt great. The run made my R ant tib muscle sore and L hamstrings sore.

Training Summary-

Swim- Mon. Jan 14, 2050 yds in 1:02:18, 3.03 min/100 yds, 13 strokes/length

            Tue. Jan 16, 2000 yds in 47:04, 2.21 min/100 yds, 14 strokes/length

Run-    Fri. Jan 18, 6.01 mi in 53.11 min, 8:49 min/mi pace, TE 3.9*

            Fri. Jan 18, 1.97 mi in 17:31 min, 8:53 min/mi pace, TE 2.8**

                        * Training Effect- goes from 1-5 with 5= “overtraining”

                        **ran this one after 20 min rest from first run