Anything Is Possible. You Can Be Told

I May Be In Timeout Forever. But I Hope Not To Be.

Everything In My Life Is In Perspective. Ok, Perspective Ebbs And Flows. I've Had Bad Days, But They Weren't In The Last Years. A Bad Day Is 2 October 1996: 'we've Got Bad News For You, You've Got Advanced Testicular Cancer And You've Got A Coin's Toss Chance Of Survival.' That's A Bad Day.

We Sped On, Across The Plains, Toward Metz. I Hung Back, Saving Myself. It Is Called The Race Of Truth. The Early Stages Separate The Strong Riders From The Weak. Now The Weak Would Be Eliminated Altogether.

What Is Stronger, Fear Or Hope?

There Were Something Like 50 Good, Arduous Climbs Around Nice, Solid Inclines Of Ten Miles Or More. The Trick Was Not To Climb Every Once In Awhile, But To Climb Repeatedly. I Would Do Three Different Climbs In One Day, Over The Course Of A Six- Or Seven-hour Ride. A 12 Mile Climb Took About An Hour, So That Tells You What My Days Were Like.