Salt Lake City was a blur. Today I went by the Tosh Clinic and saw Eric Heiden. He was doing surgery most of the day, but squeezed me in for 30 minutes. I hadn’t seen him for awhile. He is just the same. Super nice, down to earth, regular guy. He’d been shoveling snow all morning and his arms were tired. In just 30 minutes, I was in his office catching up for 10 minutes, then evaluated, X-rayed, an injection and then a splint fitted. Talk about an efficient use of time. It didn’t seem like he was moving very fast, but a lot got accomplished.

We then went upstairs to say hi to Max Testa. I’ve know Max since the 7-11 days. He was the first team doctor I had ever met. He is now a team doctor, along with Eric and Dr. Majors, of the BMC Team. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was amazing to me that he had been following my results very closely. He was very complimentary. It is so cool running into friends you haven’t seen in a long time and continuing like it was like just the next day. It felt pretty comfortable all around.

Max was doing lactate threshold testing and the last patient forgot to bring his bike. He went into the back and brought out an old 7-11 Serotta that Jeff Pierce rode when he won the final stage of the Tour de France. It was so cool he was willing to let some guy he hardly knew sweat all over a bike he obviously coveted. Shows me how he thinks.

The clinic is crazy. Impossible to convey the size and quantity of stuff there. If you’re ever jacked up and need rehabilitation, you should consider making a trip out to SLC.

We were out of Salt Lake by noon. I love driving through Utah. Especially Highway 6. It’s much like Highway 20 in Oregon. Super vistas, open road.

I’m now in Silverthorne Colorado. Vincent, a friend from Topeka, has a place here. There is a ton of snow in Summit County. We’re going to go skiing (skate) tomorrow, now that I’ve got my thumb immobilized. We’ll see how that goes.

Eric fitting a thumb brace.

Max and I in front of a signed Andy Hampsten poster.

Max with Jeff Pierce's Tour stage winning bike.

Ortho Lab rehab from above.

Driving through Utah is not boring.

Utah sometimes seems like a different planet in the winter. In the summer too.

I was inundated with questions at Cyclo-X Nationals about not racing, being hurt, roofing, life in general. Too many questions for my liking. Anyway, the second most common topic of conversation was about risk. It usually went something like, “I was riding pretty good, but it was pretty sketchy and I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” Or, “2 guys in my race broke their elbows”, blah, blah, blah, “and I can’t take that risk.”

I heard it time and time again. I’ve heard it before. A teammate quit a race in the rain a while back and his wife told me that he couldn’t risk falling because he had to go to work tomorrow. I heard it as, “you don’t have to go to work tomorrow, so it doesn’t matter if you’re hurt.” Strange how your mind does that. Anyway, I think people need to try not to let this perceived risk thing control their lives.

I am virtually positive that the guy that broke his elbow, hip, or whatever, was not willing to take the risk during the race that he would break his bones. He might of been riding much more conservative than every other rider in the race. He did take the risk, even though he might not realize it, because he paid his entry fee and started the race. Most the time in bicycle racing, we, as racers, rely on things that are out of our control. We rely on the hope that the other riders are going to ride safely and look out for the overall safety of the field. We rely on the hope that the promoters have done everything in their ability to make sure we’re safe. And a million other things. But, in reality, it is the chaos theory and virtually, an uncontrollable situation. We hate to admit it, but we don’t have control of our lives minute by minute.

This is the way in bicycle racing. And in the way in life. The best way I know to do exceptional things in the sport, or in life, is to live a bit on the risky side. Get out of your comfort level. Raise your comfort level. In racing, hopefully, this will become your new base, your new comfort level, and this will allow you to progress in the sport. In life, it is a way to gain new experiences and to realize that the barriers that were holding you back were really not there at all.