We humans are a funny lot. We measure time into manageable pieces: hours, days, weeks, years. ‘Special occasions’ are marked: birthdays, anniversaries, elections, New Years Eve, and so on. These special occasions are rituals, that help us lift a few select, otherwise ordinary and mundane moments into sublime relief. The special occasions are celebrations of our indomitable spirit, even when they are directed toward another person.
This week I watched Barack Obama take the oath and office of the 44th President of the United States with about 250 friends and strangers at Living Room Theaters in Portland. As I watched the ceremony I found myself remembering my second short track race last summer, and wondering if Obama could relate.
Every race I enter I do so with a specific goal in mind. Winning isn’t really an option for much of the racing I do, as I’m unable to train for racing because of Janky. But still, I race knowing that while I probably can’t win the race, I can focus on just a few things I would like to improve. Mad skillz. Or strategy. Or a certain technique. Or just not bonking.
My first short track race last year I got off to an abysmal start. I was buried probably 25 deep. Gradually I made my way through the ranks, picking off slower racers who just got a better start, to finish second or third. I was pleased, but I knew if I’d have gotten a better start I could have closed down the gap to the lead.
So, I decided for my second race my personal challenge would be to get ‘the hole shot’. The hole shot is a term used to describe being the first racer through the first turn on the course. I lined up at race number two, uncertain if I could even pull it off, but determined to bury myself trying.
The gun went off, and I put my head down, shifting smoothly, quickly, pressing hard through the first turn. It was a sharp left followed by a short, punchy little dirt hill. Long shallow hills destroy me, as my hip doesn’t like that sort of sustained effort, but a power climb, no problem… Stand up and throw the hammer down. As I hit the plateau before descending into the main area, I did a quick head turn to check over my shoulder: Not only did I have the hole and and lead, it was by a decisive margin.
“Oh shit!” I thought. “Shit! Now I have to hold it! AAAAAAHHHHHH…”
Put head down. Pedal pedal breathe pedal harder faster breathe. 4 laps later, I savored my first (and possibly only) first place finish in Short Track racing. Friends criticized me afterward for “sandbagging”, claiming I had no business racing beginners and maybe they’re right. But it *was* my first time doing any kind of MTB race, and I had no idea what to expect, really. I mean… I’m not the world’s greatest mountain biker, after all.
So as I watched Obama take the hole shot–winning the election and being sworn in as President–I wondered if he’d looked over his shoulder yet to have his moment of realization of how much more work there is to get done. The hole shot is only the beginning. Now he’s got to ‘hold it’. It being the public trust, the responsibility of fixing what (hopefully not irreversible) damage the Bush administration has done on so many levels, and an all-time low public opinion of the US, for starters.
It also occurred to me, later that day, as I considered how emotional many were about this election and Obama’s swearing in… Obama may as well be wearing a cape and mask. He’s the object of so much hero worship and projection. Did we elect a leader or a hero? I think we elected a symbol. An icon. A projection of our frantic and complex need. And I would leave it there at that except that there is an energy–a force– about Obama, that inspires people to search for and celebrate their own heroism. In everyday mundane ways.
Obama is our elected leader, not a magician. The only way things will change is if everyone participates. We can’t just cast votes and have markets turn around, and jobs invent themselves. Things will get worse before they get better we’re told. From my perspective, Obama got the hole shot, but the race has just begun, and we’re ALL on his team. The only way he can succeed is if we all take a pull. Perhaps that’s not the best analogy as mountain bike racing is largely a solo endeavor, and team tactics don’t play in much the way they do in road racing. The point is, maybe more than seeing Obama as a leader, or hero or saviour we see him as a team captain. There’s been a surge in civic participation and involvement these past few years–maybe that’s the one upside of Bush’s regime. We can’t relax now. We need to keep the pressure on for radical change. Corporate special interests must be held in check. Just seems like maybe we need to be proactive in creating the change we wish to see, and not relax into some false sense of security that one man can fix the ills of this society or our world.
. . . . .
Speaking of being proactive, many readers of this blog know I have been operating with a minor but persistent handicap these past couple years. In August of 2006 I was hit by a truck while riding my bike. It was a classic right hook. If you remember the Oregonian published a map of all the car/cyclist collisions in 2007 after Brett Jarolimek’s death by the same kind of accident, well… I was the little red dot on SE Water, near the Hawthorne Bridge. It wasn’t a bad collision by many standards. I had a slight concussion, passed out, my hands were all scraped up and gravel embedded, and a bruise on my outer trochanter/hip, some minor contusions etc.
The hip thing seemed least problematic at the time, but turned out to be a major problem to resolve. I’ve had a pretty chronic inpingement in my hip joint ever since then. It has caused me to eliminate certain forms of racing, riding, changed my yoga practice–both from a teaching perspective and as a practitioner–and even ordinary social life is affected. If you’ve ever been out to dinner with me you know how difficult it is for me to simple sit still for more than 20 minutes. It’s not ADD, its PAIN, and sitting is a major trigger. I cant even go to watch a movie without squirming and standing up a few times (which I know is annoying so I don’t go to many movies anymore). One of the forms of yoga I teach–yin yoga–is a meditative form of practice involving long seated or recline poses on the floor. It is my specialty. It is my favorite practice to teach. It is incredibly painful to me, now, as I’m unable to actually do the practice on many days.
I’ve tried lots of treatments and therapeutic options. Some things help (acupunture, massage, etc) but it keeps coming back. I’ve adapted, but in such a way that the alignment of my whole pelvis seems off. I have pain most days, in varying degrees, sometimes intensely so. It affects my sleep sometimes when the pain is “on” more some nights.
Now it’s been affecting my sleep in that the the suit against the driver of the commercial vehicle who hit me is starting to snowball. For months it wasn’t too active, just lots of paperwork. Now there are depositions. If you’ve never been through this process, well… Let me just say the process of having the details of your life examined, picked apart, of being interrogated for four hours about the smallest (and most irrelevant) details of your life is awful.
The driver’s attorney printed out most of my blog and queried me about certain entries. It pointed out the very obvious hazard of having a personal blog. Things that you type can and will be used against you in a court of law.
After my deposition last week, I considered pulling the plug on blogging. But after sleeping on it (or not sleeping on it as it turns out) I refuse. In one negligent act, in one unfortunate moment, that driver took away a significant piece of my life. You don’t have to point out that I’m still here: riding, racing, doing things that I love doing. I’m aware of how lucky I am. But if my options are to do nothing and not ride, not race and not do yoga and become fat and lazy and depressed and be in pain, or ride, race, squirm and be happy enjoying these essential activities that are such a big part of the fabric of my life and be in pain… Well, which do you think I might choose? I couldn’t sleep for days after my own deposition. I keep replaying the incident and the deposition over and over in my head. For some reason my subconscious likes to process it all between 1:30-4:30am when I should be sound asleep.
This blog is probably equal parts bullshit, hyperbole and actual fact. It’s my hope and intention that it amuses, entertains, or in posts like these, inspires. Some parts are dramatized for effect (shocking I know) and some parts are totally serious. Mostly I had thought about this blog as part journal and part personal Seinfeld show, in that its really a blog about nothing. The other guy’s attorney wasn’t asking the right questions (and yes, he’s probably reading this now too!). Or maybe he was, since his job is to make me the villain. But win or lose this case, I can not be the villain in this instance. The bare facts are stark and simple:
The dude ran me down in the bike lane, violating Oregon laws and taking way, way too much energy, time, money, health and fitness from me. Fucksake! I’m blogging about this now!
Were I to quit blogging altogether that driver would have taken much more from me than perfect hip function. He would have taken my spirit as well.
You can’t have that, Mr. Driver. This spirit goes to 11.
. . . . .
These past few months have been mentally fatiguing as I relive all the suffering of the past couple of years. I jut haven’t felt like writing much. I have barely been managing 2 rides a week, and Janky is angry. My whole body aches and I feel tired. My ayurvedic coach suggests it’s stress and even with all my tools of meditation, breathing, yoga, holistic relief is elusive. After all… if it hurts to sit, ride, move, how am I to do these practices that provide relief from pain–that’s the Catch 22 that really frustrates me! Perhaps my creative juices will be restored once the legal preceedings are over. I certainly hope so. I miss you, dear blogosphere. I’ve gone soft. *sniffle* Wait for me!
