Learning to Suffer

It was a tough race. The field was filled with the “who’s who” of racing. My nerves were high and in my mind, I had already lost the race even before it started because of my mental intimidation. The gun sounded, and my heart rate was pegged within 30 seconds. The pace didn’t slow down, but rather kept ramping up and surging even more potently than it had mere minutes ago. Thoughts of quitting began to seep into my mind and I became comforted by the thought that I could make this all end if I just stopped pedaling. I pushed onward for a few moments longer and gave what I thought was my last best effort. However, it was just that, my last effort. Soon after, I watched the field disappear before my front wheel while I fell off the back.

After cooling down, I rolled up to Ray and exclaimed how difficult the race was and how I tried to give it all I had but it just wasn’t good enough. He replied back to me a few simple words, “You know what your problem is Finkel, you need to learn how to suffer!” In disgust and defense I barked back, “Ray! I was suffering in that race!” He refuted, “You didn’t suffer…I’ll tell you when the first time you suffer is.” He went on to retell a classic Dybo Memoir involving Clair Young, a similar defeated race of his, a raddish, and those all so wise words…you need to learn how to suffer.

Ray was right, I hadn’t learned to suffer yet.

On the morning of October 12th, 2010, the sport of cycling lost quite possibly one of its most unsung heroes. This is something I’ve been reluctant to write about for awhile. The task of honoring a person who gave so much seemed monumental and a bit intimidating.

I had only had the privilege of conversing with Clair Young a handful of times. However, during those times I was able to make the accurate assumption that Clair never really said anything that wasn’t worth saying. I always walked away from my interactions with him smarter and wiser than I had been earlier that day. Despite my minimal interactions with Clair, I feel that I am traveling daily on roads he helped pave. As a result, I feel I have an acute understanding of the person he was, and the person he wanted to project to the world. This has not only given me inspiration but great respect for Clair.

Clair left a clear message with the Wolverines that has become a mantra for me not only in terms of racing but in life in general. This message was simple: you need to learn to suffer. I’ve always felt that our highs can only be measured by our lowest lows. Clair lost his wife at the tender age of 37. However, he kept his family together by devoting himself to his children, speed skating, and cycling. Two of his children Roger and Shelia, went on to attain more National Championships, World Championships and Olympic medals than I have room to write on this page.

I feel very fortunate to of been able to interact with Clair. Moreover, I feel fortunate that his teachings and ideals have been passed along to me through the Wolverine Sports Club. Best of all, I am thankful that through Clair’s words of wisdom I have truly learned how to suffer.

Ray was right. At the time, I hadn't suffered yet. It wasn’t until years after that first race I dropped out of, and several results later that Ray finally pulled me aside and said, “You've suffered…Congratulations…I’m proud of you.”