Monthly Archives: September 2016
Life’s Lessons: Perspective for us all
This inspirational article, written by Dick Ingram [Executive Director Teachers’ Retirement System of the State of Illinois] about his son’s cross country bike race was brought to us by Craig Soderberg and read at our School Board Retreat on August 8th. We all agreed that this is an important message for the board, the district, the community and all of us in the world community. I present it here with Mr. Ingram’s permission.
Before I left for my vacation, I shared with you some tidbits about my oldest son participating in the Race Across America., the longest single stage [that means non-stop] bike race in the world. Now that I am back from vacation I thought I would close the loop on that story and share some thoughts with you that came to me from sharing the experience with Colin. I started jotting down these thoughts over two weeks ago while I was flying to New Hampshire on my way to our family vacation on Lake Winnipesaukee.
Before it began, I had no idea what a major deal this race is, nor did Colin and his teammates and crew. This was serious racing, with strict and detailed rules and one goal, to get from the pier in Oceanside, California to the City Dock in Annapolis, Maryland as fast as you can over the official 3069 mile course. The team took turns rotating in two four-man groups that rode individual legs non-stop. Depending on the terrain, the legs could be 10 to 60 miles. Their average team speed over the entire race was 20.25 miles per hour. Once the gun goes off, the clock keeps running. There are official checkpoints about every 50 miles or so all across the country. A GPS device monitors your progress so shortcuts aren’t possible. One team mistakenly left their device in a vehicle that was hopscotching ahead to a hand off and was called out by the race committee who were wondering how the bike was going 70 miles an hour.
Okay so first the results. Colin’s team finished third [well, second officially, but more on that in a minute]. His team was made up of 8 riders and a 6-person crew. Not all of them knew each other before the race. Even though they had all been riding on their own, it was a sideline to their first love and their day job, running. The entry fees, rented vans and chase car, gas, food, laundry, miscellaneous supplies and the occasional seedy motel room for a shower totaled about $42,000. They brought their own bikes [each had just one]. New Balance provided the “kit” or the racing uniform, but other than that the eight of them kicked in the money out of their own pockets. The crew donated their time just to be part of the adventure.
Who was their competition? Well let’s leave it at this. The first [more on them a little later], second and fourth teams all had race budgets of $150,000 that had been paid for by sponsors. They each traveled by tour bus [one of which had just been used by Axl Rose during part of the Guns’n Roses concert tour], so no seedy motels for them. They each had two bikes for every rider – one especially designed for climbing in the mountains and one for the rest of the course. Masseuses were on the bus along with hot showers and beds. Rock star comforts. Some of the riders were world-class triathlon competitors. In contrast to Colin’s team of runners riding bikes for a change, all were serious and experienced bike racers.
So what were some of the things that struck me as I shared this experience with him? I have probably forgotten some but I think I got the most important ones. They are below, in no particular order. As you read them, I hope you realize that each of them could be applied in some way to our work together here at the Fern Ridge School District [and in the Fern Ridge Community].
Be a good sport; be gracious and kind no matter where you finish. I mentioned that Colin’s team finished third. Their official place was second because the winning team was disqualified for poor sportsmanship. They didn’t cheat or cut corners. They pedaled the fastest but were just jerks, and the Race Committee took the title away from them after awarding it because they were so graceless. Quite a message in a world where elite athletes are often insufferably vain without consequence.
Don’t taunt or make fun of the other guy. It only makes you look small and sets you up for embarrassment later. Colin’s team had been solidly in third since they climbed the Rockies – all through Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois and Indiana. After they had been slowed by weather and some mishaps in Ohio and West Virginia on the fifth day of the race, the eventual fourth place team was closing the gap and began taunting Colin and his team when they would meet up on the course. Colin’s message to his team was simple: “There is no way we come in behind these guys.” He was good to his word.
Conditions will never be optimal or what you want them to be. It does not matter. Push through. They rode through cloudless skies and heat that maxed out at 131 degrees, heat that softened their tires and killed their speed. They climbed 10,000 feet three times in a row through the Rockies into a 15 mph headwind. They slogged through rain and mud as they climbed through the Appalachians in West Virginia. They endured serious and juvenile harassment from motorists and passerby. But they recognized it was those things that would make the experience the epic adventure that it was.
Strangers will do nice things for you. In Kansas, total strangers who realized why these lone cyclists were pedaling through their town would drive ahead and block intersections after intersection to ensure a safe and unhindered passage through.
It takes a lot of people to make the things that matter work. I was struck by the kindness and support of the many volunteers who manned the time stops for many hours at a time. They generously had food, drinks and supplies for the riders. They were often the only ones around to cheer the riders as they went through. They did it for free: alone- in the dark, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. When you experience those things, you are reminded about how good we can be as a people. It sounds corny, but it makes you proud. I was proud to have Illinois represented by the kind young couple from Mattoon who spent the night manning the Effingham station.
Hand-offs and keeping track of your teammates is important. In an incident that became humorous only after the race was finished, Colin was left behind at a remote gas station in western Maryland. Thinking he was asleep in the back of the van when he actually was in the rest room, they drove off. Only when they were 40 miles down the road did one of his sleep deprived teammates [who is Irish] asked “Lads, where is Colin…” I have an amusing voice mail from him while he was stranded. Not the best use of time on the last day of the race with the aforementioned fourth place team closing the gap.
Appreciate the people who do the unheralded dirty work. The crew was just as important as the riders. They did all the little things to keep them moving and focused. This struck home for me when I met Colin in Effingham As I mentioned above, they had two vans, one for each four-man group. The vans carried all the supplies, the bikes, etc. But there was a third vehicle also: a chase car that stayed with the rider every minute all through the race. I personally cannot imagine driving across country at 20 mph with my flashers on, but they did, along with many other thankless tasks.
Invest in relationships. Be willing to meet new people. They create the opportunity to do amazing things together. Some lifelong friendships were forged over the course of the race. The testimonies several of them wrote online after the race were some of the most heartfelt pieces I have every read.
Likewise, nurture your old friends as well. One of the key crew members was one of Colin’s former colleagues when he worked at Mizuno before joining New Balance. Old friends won’t let you down.
Step up without being asked. If your teammates are lagging, aren’t performing well or can’t ride their next leg, you can lift them up by doing more without making them ask for help, expecting any praise or giving them a hard time. Just answer the question “who’s next?” with “I am”.
Celebrate together. After over six days of individual rides, Colin asked his four-man team to ride with him for the last 31 miles. They were joined 15 miles from the finish by the other four. They rode together as a team the rest of the way, a perfect parade finish. Not the fastest way to finish but the best.
Have fun. The race committee noted the team’s good humor, sportsmanship and humility that stood in stark contrast to the boorish behavior of the fastest team. The pictures they took along the way testified to the fact that racing hard wasn’t mutually exclusive of having fun.
Don’t be afraid to step outside your comfort zone. Do the hard things. Colin is a fairly elite athlete who has experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows of competition, but this experience was far beyond anything he had done. In his words, “it was a 6 day, 7 hour and 36 minute catharsis that left me feeling more alive, more thankful to be alive and itching for the next challenge.”
Little gestures mean the world. There were hundreds of little kindnesses and thoughtful gestures during the ride- within the team and from strangers they met along the way. Like the people in Kansas and the older lady in West Virginia who offered to do their laundry so the crew could rest. You can imagine just how skeevy their laundry had to be and what a kind thing it was for her to wash, sort and fold it all!
I will wrap this up with a more personal reflection about waiting in the dark. I had promised Colin that I would meet him as he came across Illinois. That ended up happening at 1:30 am on June 23rd, a very early Thursday morning in Effingham. As it turned out, he rode the leg into the Effingham time station. So I waited for him in the dark. I can’t quite find the right words, but there is something very moving about waiting for your son in the dark of night. It brought floods of memories.
After a while the group’s van rolled in to get the next rider set up for the exchange. “Are you Colin’s dad? It’s true; you do look just like him!” Then I waited for the pinprick of light from his headlamp to appear in the darkness. Behind him was the chase car with its flasher on. And out of the darkness he came.
So we had fifteen minutes together on an ungodly hot and humid night in the middle of America, and they were off to the next hand off and a truly epic final two days of the race. And I head back to Springfield and a final day of work before I took a vacation. I got the distinct impression that some thought I was a bit crazy to drive to Effingham for a brief snatch of time with him in the small hours of the morning. I would have driven to Effingham even if just to wave as he rode by. Why? Because in a very special way, I knew how much this race meant to him and what was driving him through the miles. He knew I would be there, and I wasn’t going to let him down. If you care about someone you should always be willing to wait for him in the dark. I wouldn’t have missed the moment for anything.