It’s been a tumultuous time for Lance Armstrong, cycling extraordinaire who continually rode the top of athletic world for years on end. During his heyday, you would be hard pressed to find a more dominating athlete in any individual sport. He was the Michael Jordan and Wayne Gretzky of competitive cycling. He was idolized everywhere. Even those who knew nothing about the sport — as a mostly hockey fan, that included me — knew and respected him for the level of greatness he had apparently achieved. Everyone dreams to be at the top, no matter what mountain we’re on.

The fact that he was also a cancer survivor served to further cement his godlike status. The testicular surgery he was diagnosed with in October 1996 had spread to his brain and lungs. He had both testicular and brain surgery in addition to many rounds of intensive chemotherapy. Instead of collapsing inward and retiring into the sunset, he fought back and amazingly continued his competitive cycling career. It was the stuff of legends.

The Harder They Fall

And then it all came crashing down recently amid the doping allegations levied by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency. Just this week he was stripped of the 7 Tour de France titles he had won — his crowning achievement in the record books — and his seemingly untouchable legend is forever tarnished. Despite his repeated denials of the charges, there seems little doubt among the population, given the apparent abundance of evidence and testimonials of past teammates, that he is guilty as charged. Godlike status no more.

I have a unique perspective on this rise and fall because I had cancer three times in my 20s. In fact, by all accounts I’m not really supposed to be around anymore. According to my doctors, who were tremendous throughout, I was about a month away from biting the bullet from an extremely rare stage 4 tumor of leiomyosarcoma when I was 25. After some pretty harrowing surgery, 40 radiation treatments and 4 rounds of inpatient chemotherapy, I was let loose only to have it recur in my right lung two years later, requiring another operation. Two years later, same thing and half my right lung was removed.

So seeing what cancer does from the inside out, both physically and mentally, it pains me greatly to see one of the disease’s greatest icons destroy the very pedal on which thousands of survivors had placed him.

I think there’s something to be said for the effect of intense competition beyond what most of us could possibly conceive and the glamour of pro athletics that can likely pervert one’s view of the world and potentially one’s otherwise sense of morality. That’s not to make excuses for him as there are plenty of athletes who don’t spectacularly flame out the way Lance did after achieving such lofty status, but he’s certainly not the only pro athlete to go from top of his sport to a pariah, an outcast, although he’s probably the most historic. I think that’s a world that most of us can’t really perceive and don’t truly know what it would do to us.

Don’t misunderstand me – I’m not apologizing for Lance as much as I want to pity him. But at the end of the day, we are all responsible for our own actions, both in how they affect us as well as those around us.

What Makes It Hard

The one wrench in the whole situation, at least for me, is his Livestrong Foundation, the cancer support initiative started by our very own pariah. On one hand we have the Lance everyone wants to hate for the false image he gave for years on end, but on the other hand there’s no getting around the fantastic service provided by the charity. Can we have it both ways?

Can we both despise and appreciate Lance Armstrong at the same time?

It’s not an easy answer, but I can tell you as a three-time cancer survivor, I honestly feel betrayed. I was never one to idolize him like others, mainly because I was never into cycling (I’d rather watch a meaningless regular season game for my Philadelphia Flyers than the final leg of the Tour de France), so “betrayal” may be a strong word. “Disappointment” might be more appropriate. But regardless, Lance’s persona surpassed his sport. Everyone knew Lance (or maybe I should say everyone knew “of” Lance). Of course, I looked up to Lance as well, cycling fan or not. He was a fellow survivor and the poster child for all of us.

But he threw away the gift. The gift of having your life back. The gift of going through hell and coming out the other end tougher than nails. The gift of courage from winning the battle, courage that you carry with you the rest of your days.

Spare Me the Label

There are probably 101 lessons to learn from the rise and fall of Lance Armstrong. I suppose the one that will always stick with me is that surviving cancer, or any other disease or grave life challenge, is not a ticket to entitlement. It should not elevate us beyond our peers by its very being. After all, who in their right mind would want to have cancer? I actually hate the label of “survivor” because it’s something I never wanted to be in the first place and I don’t want it to be the first image I portray in someone’s mind. Why should we be honored for having something we never would have asked for if given the choice? It’s really a bit twisted.

What it should do is make us reassess our place in the world and the path we’ve chosen with a new set of eyes. In that sense, Lance has failed because he apparently rode off in the opposite direction.

I hope that the efforts of the Livestrong Foundation can survive and grow despite their attachment to sports’ most famous crash-and-burn. Over time the name Lance Armstrong the cyclist will be relegated to trivia or barroom sports talk. And while his legacy as a sports icon has been irreversibly contaminated, the end of the day might yet find his name even more revered instead for the charity he founded, a charity risen from an opportunity squandered.

This personal blog thing is going to take some time. I’m swamped with my own business lately and finding the time to really devote to this is something I need improve upon.

This man just beat up a Congressman on live TV

Nevertheless – today was the 2012 Vice Presidential Debate and it was quite the spirited contest. Personally, I thought VP Joe Biden beat the daylights out of first-timer Paul Ryan. I was really shocked to see the CNN Polls right after the debate actually show a slight edge to Ryan in the surveys of who won. Some of the comments were from people who didn’t care for Biden’s interruptions, who said Biden had ‘bad manners’.

Really?? This is for the Vice-Presidency of our nation, not an invitation for high tea. Rudeness isn’t called for but I can forgive Biden his roughness if it comes with his ‘everyman’ candor. Ryan really looked like the new kid on the block. I actually he think he did well for his first debate and he was indeed prepared, but Biden is much more relatable, in my opinion. Biden’s a guy you could sit next to the bus stop and just shoot the breeze with and feel comfortable and feel heard. Ryan seems like too much of a jock. I don’t know — I just dig Biden’s vibe.

On another note, I’m sitting in here in a pretty cool tea shop on King St. at Puck’s Alley. The Tea Farm Cafe is nice in that they have a nice selection of quality loose-leaf teas. I try to avoid bag teas at all costs since they’re generally inferior in every way to loose-leaf teas. I’m drinking the silver needle white tonight while my girlfriend’s got herself a cup of “monkey green” – good choice, honey! Some day I’ll devote an entire series of posts on tea as it’s something that’s really been a huge part of the past ten years of my life.

I really enjoy how they always play quality classical music here — and, of course, my girlfriend knows about every piece. She’s quite the accomplished pianist herself but is set for her first lesson in Hawaii tomorrow with a university professor. I like how, even as a professional, she always looks to improve. I think that’s something we can all take to heart.

In fact, I was just reading an email tip from Keith Ferrazzi (of “Never Eat Alone” fame) about how successful people don’t try to get good, they try to get better. It’s subtle, but the difference is huge. The typical “success” goal isn’t finite — it’s to always improve. That makes the journey to success an enjoyable challenge instead of a sometimes seemingly insurmountable challenge. Easy to say, yes, but I was glad for the reminder as I know I snowballed under my own thoughts and energies from time to time.