On Monday, June 30, 2003 I got an email from Lance Armstrong. He thanked me for an article I had written about how his battle with cancer had helped me get through my parents’ illnesses and deaths.
I copied the email, framed it and hung it above the desk on my front porch where I write. I was proud of that email and the journalism awards it hung beside.
Last night I watched Lance admit he was a fraud, a bully and an all-around prick. He proved himself a megalomaniac. I counted t how many times he said “I’m sorry” on one finger. I will keep counting tonight, during the second-half of his interview.
Lance Armstrong was a very big part of a very bad part of my life. I believed his fairy tale with my whole heart. I needed to. In hindsight, Lance Armstrong didn’t give me hope. I taught myself about hope and faith. Lance Armstrong was just the case study. Today, he has nothing. I still have my faith and hope and it is stronger than ever.
I watched every minute of every stage of every tour that he won. Sometimes I got up early and watched in the stage before I want to work. Then came home and watched it again. I, too, was an endurance athlete. I ran marathons, triathlons and swam countless laps, staring at the black line on the bottom of a swimming pool. I remember sitting in my car in the parking lot – late for swim practice – on the phone with my mom, as she explained that her cancer had spread and there was little left they could do.
She died on March 6, 2003. In July, I took my daughter to Ireland, the homeland my mother never visited, and then to Paris and stood on the Champs Elysee to watch Lance win the 2003 Tour de France. It was closure, I thought.
I got through my parents’ deaths, the guilt I felt about being a 1,000 miles away and dumping to much of their care on my sister. I got through emptying the house where I grew up. I got through the funerals. I got through the will and the paperwork. And for a couple of years, I got through life.
Then I crashed. The deepest, darkest depression I had ever know. It felt like it would never end. But I had the hope and faith I had taught myself from all those years of watching Lance ride the tour. I used to give Lance Armstrong credit for my faith and hope. Not anymore.
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There are millions of perspectives one can take in any given situation.
Yours is as valid as any other and if it makes you happy then it is a good one for you.
Mine is different. I was not emotionally looking at Lance to shore me up but I saw that many were. So when he began being attacked I thought to myself – Leave the man alone – the value he gives to the world as an inspiration to help others is more important than whether he cheated. Inspiration is so needed and so beneficial – you’ll do more harm than good by persecuting him. That was my perspective and I have been discouraged by a world that put persecuting one to the detriment of many as a priority.
I can only hope that others who felt inspired find a perspective where they see it was their own ability that got them through a tough time – that they chose a perspective during that time that benefited them. I also hope that there are other inspiring stories to help those who are going through and will go through times where Lance’s story could have benefited them (the old story).
I am more about uplifting people and bringing greater thriving to the world. It is very clear (scientifically) that happy people thrive and their happiness is not due to their thriving but happiness contributes mightily to thriving.
So I am glad that you found a perspective that empowers you and that you are sharing it in ways where it may help others do the same.
Christine,
it’s always hard to find out the truth about people you put faith and hope in, and Yes it’s okay to say you put faith in Lance. It’s not the person or faith that is the important aspect of the equation. It’s the add kick this give you to cope and find balance. In my option it is not what gets up out of the depression that is the most important part, it;s the fact that we are out of the depression that is the important part. That is my 2 cents.
A very precious two cents, I might add. Thanks.