This evening I watched (on Netflix ) the story of Marco Pantani ‘accidental death of a cyclist’.
It’s the first time since my cycling accident that I’ve been able to watch any cycling at all, without being totally distracted by my own regret.
Like my own far less well known tale, it ends badly.
He decided that taking his own life, alone in a hotel room, was the right thing to do. I can say that I completely understand that way of thinking.
I’ve started doing different gym training here, no weight machines, rather aerobic work outs on arm cycle type machines.
The good news is that my arms are tiring more quickly than my battered lungs, suggesting a bit of a turning point in my ability to breathe.
What do I think about during the pain?
Memories of long Alpine road climbs on my bike… When stopping wasn’t an option, no matter how bad it got.
That’s one of the challenges I face…moving on from my past.
How can I, when it’s what made me?