25 July 2011

The Spills, The Thrills, The Tour

The Tour de France is a big event in my family, as my hubby is an avid cyclist and I like to watch men in lycra. Oops, did I just say that?

The Tour de France, for anyone who is unfamiliar, is an epic cycling race that goes on for three weeks over treacherous mountain climbs up into the thin air of the Pyrenees and Alps and down heart-stopping slopes. There are daily crashes, blood, sweat and tears. Intrigue, strategy, and sportsmanship. Friendships and bitter rivalries. Written rules and gentlemanly agreements.

In a word, it is AWESOME.

It is also inspiring to watch. What those men go through to follow their passion is humbling to me.

I am passionate about my writing, but I don't risk death or injury doing it.
I put my butt in my seat for several hours a day too, but I don't usually break a sweat and or worry about saddle sores.
When I'm hungry, I get up and eat what I want, but the cyclists have to actually force themselves to consume the thousands and thousands of calories needed to survive.
I will never break a shoulder or hip at my job, unless of course, I fall off my chair.


What really gets me, is that over a hundred riders start the race but only one man can wear the winning yellow jersey at the end. For most riders, they will never win a stage, let alone the entire event, and yet they will fight and scratch and suffer for the chance.

Hmm, maybe they are not that different from writers after all.

Kimberley Troutte
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