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  1. #1
    Senior Member Cycleman1958's Avatar
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    Lawyers, Death and Wheelmen

    Another lawyer has dropped dead from cancer. If you count the heart disease as well,
    that makes six dead lawyers from our town in less than three years. Tom was
    two doors down from me. His partner of 20 years is a friend and fellow
    cyclist who appears to be in good health.

    Instead of driving to Snohomish on a remarkably warm March day and attending the
    funeral service for the last of the fallen brethren, I rode my bicycle there. I
    did not attend the funeral, instead I attended my life.

    Not having dropped any weight this winter, despite all the exercise, I was particularly
    keen to get out in shorts and long sleeve jersey to see what my body could produced
    unencumbered by the weight and confines of a winter kit. I am stronger than I was
    at this time last year.

    As usual the first ten miles is a warm up, and the breathing seems heavy even on
    modest grades. By and by I wore into the rhythm, and before long I am crusing alone
    at speeds I only think I can sustain. However I was shocked at my climbing ability,
    a memory of the halcyon days of an earlier life now recalled.

    This appears to be God's gift to me. Stout in structure, I am not made of those
    long legs that power cyclists through the flats close to speeds attained by autos.
    Nor do I have the courage to fly down mountainsides at break neck speeds. But for
    me cycling is about climbing, and this years winter work appears to yield as much
    or more as the effort in earlier years, probably more as the program was more organized and
    on purpose, including the use of the bicycle trainer.

    I recall being shocked at the speed at which I made the long climb up and over the
    Snohomish river bridge, near the end of my normal route.
    I stopped at the office after 24 miles, responded to a few e mails, ate a power
    bar, then headed back out for more climbing.

    I turned around and headed north downtown, witnessing the members of the bench and
    bar filtering toward the Monte Cristo hotel where the reception for now buried brethern would be held.
    I hammered the pedals home, grabbed a quick shower, and made
    it to the reception.

    Someone noted a lot of lawyers have dropped dead lately. This has not escaped my
    attention. I could have gone to the funeral. Instead I chose to ride. The ride is
    about life.

  2. #2
    tired donnamb's Avatar
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    Thank you, Cycleman1958. What a poignant piece of writing to share with us.
    "Real wars of words are harder to win. They require thought, insight, precision, articulation, knowledge, and experience. They require the humility to admit when you are wrong. They recognize that the dialectic is not about making us look at you, but about us all looking together for the truth."

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