There is a time to write about all the bullshit you fill your life with. The racing. The great rides. Hell even the bad ones. But its easy to forget that these things only have meaning in our lives because we attach significance to them. In reality they are devoid of any meaning.
Monday a friend of mine was racing in the single speed short track at PIR. He is fast. Like wins races fast. Monday he crashed, fracturing a vertebrae and damaging two more, leaving him paralyzed from the chest down. Doctors had hoped that he would regain movement after surgery. Now they don’t think he ever will.
Every Monday morning during cross season I would ask Mat how his race went.
” Ah It was ok. I got second” Always like it was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. He was just racing his bike because he loved to do.
It was the same story once cross season turned to mountain bike season.
I didn’t get to ride with Mat enough. We rode once, over the fall and it was easily one of my favorite rides this year. More importantly, Mat is one of the most genuinely nicest people I ever had the pleasure of meeting. He lives his life the way we should all live it.
I don’t ever advocate for shit on this blog. Fuck I don’t even write about cyclist rights. I just run some bullshit blog about some bullshit racing. Occasionally there’s a life lesson here. So while I can/ won’t tell you what to do, anything you can do would be great. Even if its just spreading the word.