I can use both of the definitions above to describe bicycle racing. I love carbon fiber and titanium. I love the fine tuned mechanics of Dura Ace and Campagnolo. The strategies used to win are intriguing. And, the team kits (especially Rock Racing) are exciting.
As a rider and an observer of the professional riders I see the meaning of passion as passio. Bike racers are a tough lot in what has to be one of the toughest sports. I have watched Tour de France riders in blistering heat and cold rain. They take wet corners on cobblestone at speeds which are death defying.
When they crash, often they get right back on the bike. No one who watched the Tour de France in 2003 will forget Lance Armstrong's crash while climbing Luz Ardiden and the subsequent near crash when his cleat came out of its binding as he powered on to win the stage. That same year, Tyler Hamilton crashed in stage 2 and rode the rest of the tour with a broken collar bone. In 2005, David Zabriskie lost the yellow jersey after a horrendous time trial crash but he finished the stage.
I am reflecting on this because last Sunday I rode with the race team from my cycling club (biker gang). The day was rainy and cool (cold to me) at the start. I felt tremendous passio as "A-train" pulled three of us along at a stout 25 mph and would then accelerate on a hill to see if we had the passion to try to hold on. I felt passio when Hi decided to attack off the front on a series of small climbs. I tried to hold on, but as my heart rate climbed to 178 bpm and my legs screamed from the lactate, all I could do is watch him pull away.
As we rode on I managed to catch back up and hold on. We gradually regrouped as we rode into Bellville, Texas where we stopped to reload water bottles at a convenience store beneath a large banner stretched high across main street announcing the days' sermon: "Sex, God, and Me".
The sun poked through on the way home, warming us and turning cold and rainy into a beautiful day.
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