Spring Break Re-Cap

It’s a familiar feeling to me. As it nears I tend to lack focus on anything but the miles and beautiful scenery that are to come for me. There is a certain feeling that rushes over me when I climb those mountains only to briefly taken in the incredible sights before I descend at effortless speeds that send your heart racing faster than it was on the climb up. It’s a time and place reserved for me to tax my body, recharge my mind, and get my early season focus. It’s a magical week where you exist for nothing more than to ride your bike and recover.

Georgia was not on my mind this year. That familiar feeling had been replaced with confusion and grief. As spring break neared, I simply had no motivation or desire to plan a training camp down south. I hadn’t been home for Easter in 6 years. However, this year was different. I needed to be with my family. I wanted to hold them close to me and not let go. Miles and training can always be found in the well-traveled, mundane landscape my legs are used to. My heart was not down south this year, it was found broken and in need of mending.

I decided that if I was going to stay home I needed to set some goals that according to my last post, would be concerted efforts to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I’m finding that it is hard to keep a monumental cycling goal in sharp focus when you a struggling to find simple solace in hard days, as well as be supportive to all the others around me that are suffering as well.

Nonetheless, I came up with the following goals:

1. Get something to help keep my brother close to my heart at all times.
2. Ride as much as I can while training smart.
3. Take my nephew Andrew rock climbing for his birthday.
4. Spring clean my house and mind.
5. Ride my bike to my parent’s house in Port Hope.
6. While in Port Hope, create something that will remember and honor my brother while engaging my family in a therapeutic collaborative effort.

Here’s the run down of my goal attainment:

1. Tattoo. Goal Attained.


Pleasure and pain. I can now confidently say I own what is in my opinion the most valuable piece of artwork. 24 hours day I can find strength and soar like wings of eagles. For those of you twitter addicts speculating what my big announcement was to my mother that I was nervous about...this was it.




2. Goal Attained. Just under 40 hours of training/racing over break.



3. Goal Attained.


On Wednesday Angela and I took one excited little boy to Planet Rock in Pontiac. He did great!



4. Goal Attained.
My house is now sparkly clean, passports have been applied for, flights have been booked, and my race agenda is a little more solidified now.


5. Goal Failed. Well, if you refer to goal 2 (train smart) than arguably yes, Goal Attained.

While I have been able to hammer this 137 mile ride out no problem in the past I seemed to develop a bit of an IT band flare up late Thursday night after 90 miles of riding for the day. Despite the clear stop sign from my legs, my mind decided to attempt the ride anyway. After 100 miles of riding, a discouraging headwind and a throbbing knee necessitated me to call in the mini-van arsenal Finkel sag wagon for a rescue. Although it nearly killed me to do it, ultimately I think I made the right decision.


6. Goal Attained and Exceeded.


What activity can a grieving family do to ease the pain? Engage in the therapeutic activity of rolling up your sleeves, getting a little muddy, and building some single-track mountain bike trails.


We called the loop the Don Finkel Eagle Wing Memorial Loop. Although our trail was only about an 8th of a mile long it packed in some challenging tight turns, two log crossings, and a rock garden.


Throughout my cycling tenure I’d like to think I’ve done some pretty cool things and created some really rich memories that I will carry with me the rest of my life. Undoubtedly this experience ranks as one of my top. There was no prize money, no illustrious sea of the finest equipment on the market, we weren’t in the most conducive environment for mountain biking, and we severely lacked the most optimal tools for trail building. However, what we did have was the child-like will to create something amazing that we can call our own and dedicate to someone whom we all loved with all of our being; someone who had influenced us positively throughout his entire life and continues to even after.


The day was beautiful. The sun was shining, the dirt was not too wet or dry, and we all realized that although we are hurting, we were making something special happen that meant so much more to us than simply making a trail to ride our bikes on.


I can vividly recall one very gratifying instant when we had just finished the trail and the boys and I were riding it to work it in while the rest of the family was sitting in the sun at the trail head. My oldest nephew who is suffering the loss of losing his father exclaimed with genuine innocent enthusiasm, “This trail is AWESOME! This is all really working out really great, I love this trail”.


My brother always told his kids to savor and value every second, because you can never go back to this moment. I’ll always cherish every second of this day and I have a feeling that the rest of my family will to.


I look forward to building more sections of the Eagle Wing Loop in the months and years to come.


So although it wasn’t the 6-Gap century, there was no Brasstown Bald climb, I wasn’t able to enjoy beers in some obscure German town in the middle of North Georgia, I was able to feel something and accomplish something that I have never been able to in the years past.


It had been 6 years. Was it worth it?...I savored every second of it.

Persistence.

I apologize to any readers who frequent this blog to read race or ride reports, details about training, or tidbits of information into the intricacies of equipment/nutrition/lifestyle/etc. Don’t get me wrong, I love reading/writing race reports, discussions of how to make your machine 200 grams lighter, and what the best tasting hammer gel on the market is…I simply don’t have any mental capacity lately to dwell on these mundane and trivial details.

I’m kind of struggling just to keep the big picture in my crosshairs. A few Fridays back, I had breakfast with a good friend/former educator of mine. We discussed how one person’s touch is immeasurable. In short, there’s no way of telling what impressions or how your influence is felt by another person. However, when you stop and strive to be cognizant of this idea, it can really affect how you go about your life and how you interact with those around you.

Last week, one person muttered a few words to me about racing that I was left relentlessly pondering. The idea was simple, concise and to the point.

Don't quit: I've had a number of good finishes in races that seemed to be completely out of my control. They go down in my journal as epic. You keep picking up the cards that are dealt to you, play them, sometimes they turn into the winning hand. Sometimes you have to hang in long enough for the race to come to your level, if you don't quit you will be happy when it does, maybe even epic!

I came to the realization that the implications of these words stretch so much further than simply racing a bicycle. It’s really a great metaphor to use as a framework for life. In essence, sometimes everything boils down to simply persisting on putting one foot in front of the other. No matter how fast or slow, you must keep moving forward. The moment in which you feel your external factors are too intense or out of your control and you choose to throw in the towel, you surrender your one simple right that no one person is able to take from you: your ability to choose your attitude. Whether you believe it or not, we all are products of our choices, not our circumstances.

If I were to look at my life as a race right now, things are over my head! This race is out of my control or my influence. I have two choices. I can pack it up or I can keep putting one foot in front of the other until the race comes to my level. Perhaps the result may even be epic.

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”
-Lance Armstrong

Pleasure and Pain.

In any trying times, music has always been a solace for me. It seems in recent times, certain lyrics ring louder in my mind and resonate deeper in my psyche than ever before.

This is the song I listened to in my car, hand clenched tightly to Angela’s hand, during the funeral procession.

It helps me to make sense of something so confusing. Although I have felt some of the most intense sorrow I have ever experienced in my life over the past month, I give thanks I’ve had my sight to see through it all.

I have felt pleasure, and I have felt pain. I know that I can never be the same.

The Dybo Memiors: Mallissa’s first and only race spectation.

On the eve of the first 2009 Michigan race weekend I feel compelled to retell another chapter out of the Godfather’s cycling tenure. Sit back, relax, enjoy, and good luck to everyone this weekend. It’s going to be another great season!


Did I ever tell you about the time Mallissa came to one of my races? I tell you what…I felt good, and I got in the break. I was freaking flying that day! Well, needless to say, I ended up winning the race. I rolled across the line, threw my hands up and basked in the glory of scoring a big W right in front of my girl’s virgin race experience. After the race, I got myself cleaned up, stepped onto the podium, collected my prizes and got in the car to drive home with Mallissa. As we drove, I replayed the whole race in my mind. I turned to Mallissa and asked, “So what did you think about the race? How did I look? I felt really good today! How was my form?”. Mallissa then turned to me and replied, “so how did you do in the race? What place did you take?”…and that was the last race Mallissa ever went to.

Still Looking Up! W.C.I.F.

My family was recently informed that as an honor to my brother, the Corvette race team was going to dawn his initials on their cars by the driver's cock pit. Don worked in the Corvette group at GM and was extremely passionate about his work. Just seeing this makes me so happy and proud!

Ironically, these are the cars that race for 12 and 24hours at a time!



If you look closely at this video you can see his initials during a pit stop this past weekend's race.

The mountain before me.

Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain. ~Author Unknown

For the first time in awhile I find myself lacking any thoughts or ideas worth writing. Incoherent thoughts, drifting through my day in a fog, feelings of numbness preceded by intense sorrow…these are all places that have been foreign to me for some time, until lately.

I’ve lacked focus to say the least. So I’m sitting here right now to literally attempt to write my way back to finding motivation to persevere. I’m not sure where all of this will go.

I’d say in the recent days I haven’t been exactly “training” but rather “riding my bike”. To those who don’t realize, there is a distinct difference. Training is relative to goals or a desired result. Riding your bike is just that, nothing more than simply riding your bike. Although last week brought about one of my highest mileage weeks for the season with three 100 mile plus rides, I was simply keeping the wheels spinning in the effort to strive for sanity. In fact, I’d say some of my rides might have actually fallen in the category of self-abusive (i.e. 125 miles on Sunday on my MTB amongst a sea of road bikes after riding 100 miles the day before toped with a cumulative sleep time of 5.5 hrs in a 72 hour period).

My goal of the 2009 World 24hr Solo Championships, which had previously resided in the forefront of my mind, has been replaced with feelings of loss and sorrow. The thought of even racing a bicycle seems so trivial these days.

When reflecting on Sundays ride, I came to the realization that at one point, when I was struggling to hang onto the front group up a climb and digging deep into the pain locker, I had for the first time in two weeks replaced this feeling of remorse by the feeling of physical pain. It may have only been for an instant, but that’s how I presume this whole healing process will transpire; small instances that will eventually become larger blocks of time. Perhaps healing has some similarities to training?

So where do I go from here? It is true; I have a mountain in front of me.

Over the past few weeks’ echoes of expressed sympathies from people radiate throughout my mind to the point where they just bounce around so much they simply begin to sound like noise. It may seem inconsiderate to those who so lovingly showed support, but it’s how I feel sometimes. There is only so many times you can hear, “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “do they know what happened yet?” or “My thoughts are with you and your family” before you don’t even process the meaning behind the words anymore.

However, there has been a certain set of words muttered from the mouths of many that I simply never can hear enough of. These words are, “your brother was so proud of you, he talked about your accomplishments all the time”. I was always so proud to make my brother proud. There is something unexplainably so gratifying when a person whom you have looked up to your entire life tells you they are proud of you, it’s magic.

This thought alone is enough motivation for me to kick every pebble in my way and press onward over the enormous mountain that lay before me.

A verse my brother always found comfort in (especially when it came to sports): Philippians 3:14. “I press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

Don once said that prior to his great friend John passing away, he had only cried 5 times in his life:
#1) the day I married Melinda!
#2) the day Evan was born!
#3) the day Connor was born!
#4) the day Nathan was born!
and #5) when Jimmy Chitwood hit the game winning shot in the movie Hoosiers!


So where can I find motivation now? What will be my fuel? What can I drive off of?

If you asked me the above questions a mere three weeks ago, my answer would have been mostly based on self-absorbed, narcissistic motives. I may of even thrown a little “life defining” lingo at you as well.

It’s all so much more than that now. One day, when I too leave this world behind, I want to be able to walk with my brother once again and have him tell me, “Damn it Timmy, you made me cry again! Your effort, your character, the heart that shined through in your performance, made me proud”.

Like wings of eagles…2009 24hr Solo World Championships…this effort is for you Don, I love you.

I have my focus back.

Unsung Heroes

There can be no vulnerability without risk; there can be no community without vulnerability; there can be no peace, and ultimately no life, without community.-M. SCOTT PECK

I just want to extend my gratitude to all those who have expressed their sympathies, came to the visitation, gave me an encouraging phone call or card, or helped contribute to my family.

There is nothing one can say or do to change our loss. However, there is something to be said about the strength that I am able to find when surrounded by such great support.

Thank you all.

The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.
-FREDERICK BUECHNER