The Body Is Telling The Mind To

I'm Not A Patient Person.

Chasing Records Doesn't Keep Me On My Bike. Happiness Does.

The Question Was, Which Would The Chemo Kill First: The Cancer Or Me?

I Want To Die At A Hundred Years Old With An American Flag On My Back And The Star Of Texas On My Helmet, After Screaming Down An Alpine Descent On A Bicycle At 75 Miles Per Hour. I Want To Cross One Last Finish Line As My Wife And My Ten Children Applaud, And Then I Want To Lie Down In A Field Of Those Famous French Sunflowers And Gracefully Expire, The Perfect Contradiction To My Once Anticipated Poignant Early Demise.

I Raced Because I Was Paid To Do A Job And I Felt Like I Had To Do The Job. Number Two: I Raced Because I Loved The Process, I Loved Training, Getting Ready For The Race, I Loved All Of That. And Number Three I Raced For My Memories. Regardless Of What Somebody Wants To Give Or Take Away, You Can't Take My Memories.