For me, cycling is my passion, it is my defining catalyst, it has become who I am and it has become something I am married to. I feel that the focus and discipline I have attained through my devotion to the sport has enabled me to become a better person in several different facets of life. However, I did not always have this focus.
The Fat Finkelstein!
Believe it or not, this 180lb 6’4” body was at one time (during the demise of my college years) 260lbs of gelatinous funk! I was 19 years old, attending college at Western Michigan University, and had a complete lack of focus. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life or what I wanted to focus my studies on. I was wandering and floating through life. Truthfully, it was very difficult for me to conceptualize anything further than a few months in advance. Fortunately, after much wasted time and money, I was able to come to a peaceful conclusion that I wanted to become an educator. However, although I thought I knew what this concept meant at the time, I really didn’t. I always knew I had the capacity to teach, but reluctantly fought it as I felt I was supposed to follow in the engineering footsteps already laid by the other Finkel males. I can honestly say, the change started to take place in me when I decided to become a teacher.
The Long-Haired Fat Finkelstein
Around this pivotal time for me, I met an individual who became a major source of inspiration and motivation. I was getting to the age where I was starting to reevaluate relationships and phase out the negative ones, and simply invite in only the positives. This person helped shape who I have become today and the way I think. I started to reconsider certain priorities and consider how I can change my lifestyle for the better. I turned to my dusty 1996 Gary Fisher Joshua sitting in the closet of my apartment which had served for sometime as more of a Seinfeld-like prop than a tool for recreation.
I had mountain biked before, but was always a weekend warrior at best. I started riding at Fort Custer a few times a week. As time passed, I purchased a newer mountain bike (a KHS Alite 4000 Team Issue). The new equipment served as great motivation to get out there and ride farther and faster. At first, my goal was to simply finish a loop at Fort Custer without stopping and without falling over on any climbs. When I achieved this, my goal was to finish in under an hour…it quickly turned to under 50 minutes, then under 40 minutes. As cliché as it sounds, when Lance Armstrong’s first book came out I read it and was blown away. I was following the 2001 tour during my read and was inspired to progress as a rider. I remember riding the Kal-Haven Trail in its entirety one day. It was by far the longest ride I had ever attempted (about 67 miles round trip). I remember finishing this ride exhausted but reveling in the assumed thought that this must be the farthest anyone had ever ridden a mountain bike! As I got more fit I started to notice something other than my pants fitting much bigger on me, I started to realize I was attaining more focus in all aspects of life. My grade point average was rising, my waistline was shrinking, and for the first time in my life, I was beginning to think about long-term goals.
I eventually graduated college with a degree in Elementary Education. However, the passionate obsessive side of me took over; as my involvement in cycling flourished, I started working in various bike shops and reading and researching as much as I could get my hands on about the topic. I should have been making it my full time job to be looking for employment in the teaching field, but I didn’t care…I was flying. There were some frustrations and difficulties I was going through at this time but the bike seemed to alleviate any stress, anxiety, anger, or depression I underwent. The faster and longer I rode, the better I felt. I discovered cycletherapy; I was addicted!
Racing was a natural bi-product of all this riding. But this is not a story about racing.
Me after taking second in my first cyclocross race.
After working two years straight at the same shop, I realized I couldn’t live the romanticized dream forever. I needed to either find a teaching job or start furthering my education. I decided to do both at once. So I went back to school for my masters and began substitute teaching. After a year or so of subbing, I got a position with the school district I am currently employed. After working the entire school year, they told me I didn’t have to come back to work for three months. I thought to myself, “So I have three months of no work, they are still going to pay me, and I can ride my bike everyday uninterrupted?” It was at this time that I came to the distinct realization that I had made the right career choice and I have never looked back since.
During my first win in the expert MTB category
My Dad and I at the start of the first ever Tour De Leelenau. My parents have become big cycling fans and are proud of who I've become.
I’ve shared the cliff notes of my story because I am so thankful for my involvement in this sport that I am so passionate about. I have met so many great people that I consider my closest friends through it and have even got to travel a bit to ride my bike. Whether you are a musician, runner, cyclist, snowboarder, kickball champion, etc., passion and focus can drive people to reach for new heights and betterment of themselves. It is a form of meditation, it is a way to become personally centered and understand your place.
I WOULD LOVE IT IF ANYONE WHO READS THIS WOULD COMMENT ABOUT HIS OR HER STORY OF HOW YOU HAVE GOT TO WHERE YOU ARE NOW. You can leave as long of a comment as you want, feel free to be long-winded. I want to hear your stories!!!
22 comments:
Great Post Tim! Perhaps I'll sometime share my story, but it certainly is not as inspirational as yours.
I have to say that my life changed a great deal on a pivotal RV trip when a barely invited Finkelstein, Dybo, and Tony "f-ing" Bruley hijacked our RV on the way to the Black Bear Century. At the time I was a commercial jet pilot,after that RV trip all I could think about when flying was riding. That one trip caused me to make some pretty profound life decisions. People that don't ride think that I am insane because I quit flying jets to ride my bike. I too was once a fat kid and was cured by cycletherapy.
The worst thing wasn't your Girth, it was that sweater in the "Long Haired FFP"
I'm not going to lie...in retrospect that sweater is hideous. However, at the time I was going through a bit of a Brit Pop phase. Also, what you can't see in the picture is some umcomfortably tight fitting jeans adorned with some Clark Wallabees on the feet.
What can is say, I was in a bad place.
That is a great story...glad you're a fellow teacher (although I don't have a clue how you and my wife are both able to teach elementary-sized kids...I teach h.s. physics where things are rational!)
My story is a bit shorter; a great guy Jeff Patton stopped by my house (he was a senior in H.S., I was in 8th grade) after a snow storm with ~12" of snow on the ground. He was out on a ride and just stopped by to say hi. Pretty much changed everything I thought about cycling and I raced my first MTB race that spring (Ithaca).
Now I put on my own race ('cx in Ithaca) and after taking 5 years off in college, racing is fun again. Even my wife likes riding (DALMAC '07 for her).
Again, good story!
That's what it's all about! The highs and lows, good and bad, tears and laughter... It's what makes us become who we are! I think it's really important to understand where you came from and how you got on the road you're on. I'm not a fellow cyclist, but you are a true inspiration to my every day being, and my life has changed positively because of you!
Those are the most disturbing photos I've ever seen of Finkel (worse than Herriman's 1980 leather-pant-clad lead singer photos). So when do we get to see the Alan Smith's 200 lb porker pictures?
Cliff Notes version of my story: Former H.S. athlete (football & wrestling). Did nothing but study & drink beer for next 8 years. Married & had kids, ate until I was just shy of 200 lbs on my 5’7” frame. HUGE family problems. Thought about throwing myself out a fucking window. Discovered mountain biking. Biking = Therapy. HUGE marriage problems. Lost 46 lbs. Started racing mountain bikes. Racing = Therapy. HUGE financial problems and continued marriage problems (tennis pro with large racket). Give up. File for divorce. Move to Birmingham in the 555 building. “Roadies” scoot under my building 3 times a week. I ask around. Something called the Wolverine Sports Club. Buy a road bike. Join club. Frequently yelled at for bouncing off other roadies like a “mountain biker”. Learn the rules. Try the Waterford race. Meet Talbot. Talbot introduces Dybowski. Dybowski teaches us how to race. Start winning Cat 5 races. Listen to Dybowski. Move up. Start winning Cat 4 races. Go to Black Bear in that RV Alan was talking about and SuperWeek in a truck & trailer rig. Realize this is the correct life-path with the correct people. Train with Dybowski, Finkel, Sammut, Manderfield, Cavender, Smith, Klein, Talbot, Bruley, Thiel, Fabijanski, Delrosario, and dozens more I respect. Listen to everything Dybowski says. Move up. Start placing or winning Cat 3 races but crash 3 times hard in 1 month. Realize these people I hold so dear are completely insane. Keep training. Finish year with reasonable standing. Confirm these people are insane after completing a 4-hour Herriman ride in 6 inches of snow. Can’t wait until Spring training series. I’ve officially joined the ranks of the certifiable-cycling-insane…
Kroske
If you had a Myspace page, I would hope that sweater pic would be your picture profile. I'm thinking of starting one of those stupid pages, just so I can photoshop my face on that pic and put it on there. I'm litterally bringing people over to my desk to show them. People that don't even know you....we point and laugh...it's the highlight of my day.
Woodke
Those are some crazy, disturbing pictures. That sweater is beautiful. You should wear it more often.
My story doesn't really have any big conflict in it, like yours, but I though I would share anyways. My family moved across Birmingham when I was in kindergarten to a house that happens to be along a popular Wolverine route. I would see giant groups of cyclists ride by in the evenings. When I was a third grader, I finally got the guts to chase after them on my BMX bike when I saw them ride by, but I usually couldn't make it more than a few dozen yards.
In eighth grade, my class went on a trip to West Virginia where one of our activities was mountain biking. My first day mountain biking happened to be September 11th, 2001. As a result, we only got to ride half a day, and had to return home the next day. That half day of mountain biking was enough to get me hooked, though.
Back at home, I started riding to Beverly Park and back after school. I bought a cycle-computer from the now extinct Jerry's Schwinn which inspired me to map out a route longer than my usual 1-mile out-and-back. As I returned from my first 5-mile ride, I saw a group of riders passing by my house. I caught up to them and ended up riding 40 miles total that day with Yvonne, Tony, and that group. When I got home, I went up to my bed and passed out for several hours. Yvonne and her group were nice enough to talk to my parents about getting my bike tuned up and buying proper cycling gear.
I used my birthday money to buy a Gary Fisher Tassajara, my first mountain bike. Nancy, who often rides with the Wolverines, took me to my first mountain bike race at Yankee Springs where I won the Beginner 14 and under category. I continued to race mountain for the next few years, riding for the Michigan Youth Cycling Program.
Last year was my first year of being really serious about road and track racing. I spent the spring racing for the University of Michigan, and subsequently started racing at the velodrome where Dale Hughes helped me take my speed to the next level. I upgraded to 4's, won a race, upgraded to 3's, won a race and placed well in some others, and now I'm a 2 riding for Essex Brass.
Overall, I can't possibly imagine where I'd be if that group of Wolverines hadn't ridden by my house that one day as an eighth grader.
I'll probably start / revive my old blog soon to make a full post. Your post was really freakin' inspirational.
During the Tour of Ohio in '06, you told me that you once weighed 260 lbs and insisted that to truly believe it I must see pictures, yet I still don't believe what I am seeing....strangely beautiful. The Slipstream argyle would have nothing on your sweater inspired Wolverine winterscape.
My bike story: At 15 I bought a used Norco Java mtb from a co-worker (totally got ripped-off but still have the frame). Cyclo-toured the Canadian west coast with some friends. Started racing mtb. Started racing road. Joined the Wolverine/Whole foods team in '
05 with the charismatic Tony "f-ing" Bruley and Ray "give me a hug" Dybowski. In '08 I will continue to race bikes and regret not knowing Finkel in his plump days.
-Adam
My story dulls in comparison to the wool, topographical map that Finkelstein passed off as a sweater back in the day, but it’s my story and I'm sticking to it.
The bell ending seventh grade was still ringing in my ears on the first actual day of summer vacation. I never counted Saturdays and Sundays as vacation. We always got those off. No, summer vacation began Monday, June 14, 1976. In less than two hours it also promptly ended.
The best way to spend summer vacation: day first was to demoralize Donny Himmelspach in tennis. The match would be easy, the day long and life grand…I thought.
I boarded my banana-seated steed, which I had at times modified by cutting the forks off junked frames and adding them to my two-wheeled machine. I felt like Peter Fonda, riding…err…pedaling my human-powered chopper-hog through the streets of Saginaw. Later, I even added some crude wheelie bars so I could eternally ride a wheelie and capture Charlene Klein’s eye. Another entry for another blog. Cutting down Shattuck I caught the stop light at Bay Road. Normally, I’d blow through the light, thrilled at the chance to demonstrate my cycling maneuvers by dodging in and out of traffic. Today, however, I was in no hurry. It was summer - day one. It needed to last. So I sat at the light with my right foot on the curb delicately balancing body and bike, waiting for the light to signal Himmelspach’s looming defeat. Slowly, a double-trailer gravel hauler crept past my left shoulder and was halted by the same red light. The light turned green and usually I would have shot into the intersection just in front of the truck’s grill. Once again, it was summer and I opted to wait it out. Peculiar thing, though, the truck was getting closer and closer. Too close. I saw my handlebar catch the truck and I went down. The next thing I remember was being at curb level while the truck rolled over my legs. The crushing terror ended and for a nanosecond, I thought it was over. No, I was simply in the middle gap of the back wheels. The last two wheels promptly rolled over my legs ending any hopes of whizzing aces past Himmelspach. Lucky him.
I spent that summer in the hospital with a broken femur, two broken legs, snapped ribs and one severely damaged spirit.
With a cycling chapter like that you might think I wheeled the bike down a long hill and into a lake for good. However, I was 13 and stupid, thankfully. It took some time but by the next summer I was once again making plank ramps and jumping everything we could find to emulate Evil Knevil: trashcans, old bikes, our rusted out Hibachi, my brother’s friends, my brother. I always treated the bike like my friend. It helped me escape the neighborhood, my sister, my brother and his often acquired bike bruises. Saginaw and all its adolescent turbulence needed frequent escaping.
…Years later I was teaching a speech unit to sophomores and a student rolled in his bike and was talking about his special pedals, cadence, helmet and some funky looking stretchy material called lycra. He also talked about how it helped him escape the stress of high school. Exactly! It was my story and I wanted to return. I asked around and one of my students had an old Bridgestone that he was willing to unload. I road that oversized bike all over Macomb County. I started commuting to school and bragged about the money I was saving. Sure, students would mock me with delirious laughter, but I didn’t care. I even blindly signed up for the Rochester stage of the now defunct Blue Care Network Tour de Michigan. A beating never felt so good!
After watching a young Finkelstein leave high school and enter Blubberville, population one…big fella, I continued to ride but gradually watched my cycling passion fade. Several years later I stumbled upon a free Cannondale road bike and after tinkering around I decided to buy a new saddle. It was in Antoon’s where I reunited with a post-college and much slimmer Finkelstein. He generously asked me if I wanted to ride and within weeks, the passion was back and I looked forward to the summer mornings at Stony getting to know the road, the locals, my bike and myself. Fixed-Gear Fridays became the best start to every summer weekend as we’d ride our humbly converted FGs into The Clem and back.
Today, I’m still teaching, still riding, still convincing high school students that lycra doesn’t make you look stupid, it makes you look fast. They roll their eyes as I roll out of the parking lot for a quick post-school ride looking to escape from tests, grading papers, whiney students and spit wads.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
After I read this last night, I went on the trainer and kept going and wouldn't get off. That was a great story, you should make a movie of it and it would be to cycling what Rudy is to football..
My story begins on my 13th birthday. Not only was I old enough to leave the subdivision by myself, but I was also able to go and watch PG-13 movies. So on that day, I decided to go an adventure to the nearby movie theater on my crappy Huffy Verdict mtn bike. I believe the movie was Spiderman and I just remember feeling a great sense of accomplishment going there by myself.
This adventure ignited many others and soon I was biking everywhere. Another factor was both of my parents working full time, so if I ever needed to go anywhere, I needed to get there by my own means and this worked out great. I would bike to school a few times a week, which was a 10 mile trip there and back. At the time I thought that was a lot, but after a few weeks of doing it, I felt like I could do more.
Athletics was nothing new to me. I had been a soccer player since about the age of 5 and also was a track runner, so undoubtedly my experience was transferring over to the bike. One day I was riding to my soccer practice at bloomer park and I saw a group of riders with colorful jerseys going through some of the trails that I ran through. At the time, I didn't think it was possible to ride a bike through there, so my curiosity got the best of me and from then on I would practice riding on the lovely cliff section at bloomer park. Often when I was riding I would find groups of people riding together and I would tag along and do my best to keep up. One day when I was doing this, one of the people asked me if I was doing the race in the upcoming weekend. I was completely oblivious to the fact that there were local mtn bike races and so I went online to find a whole bunch of info and then I entered my first mtn bike race in beginner men 15-18 at Bloomer Park in 2006.
A lot has happened since then, but this is a story of origin, not showing off race results...
Nice story Mr. Finkel, and I'd have to say that mine doesn't even compare to yours. Mine isn't that long since I haven't been around long.
I grew up riding and when I was eight-ish I loved to do time trials with my sister and our neighbor. Since I was the youngest I'd never win but it didn't dampen my enthusiasm. When my dad started riding the MS 150s, I started getting interested in serious cycling, mostly because I've always admired my dad. When my mom bought him a road bike, he started reading about Lance and started to become a real roadie. I liked when he let me tag along with him on his rides on my pink five-speed. Eventually I acquired a Felt 24 and the next year I raced the Hines Park TT. That was over three years ago!
Big thanks to everyone who shared their stories!...I enjoyed reading all of them. It makes me proud to be part of such a community and something that is so much bigger than all of us.
Keep on keeping on!
Come on guys...this is a family friendly PG rated site...sorry but I have to delete you.
Booooo. Tim, Boooooo.
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