It starts with a list.

A dozen or so names, repeated again and again. There are so many more, but those dozen are the ones that really mattered to me. Friends. Family. Mom.

One at a time, with each turn of my pedals, I repeat their names. I remember what role they played in my life. I remind myself how they died. You may like

Climbing The Wall: A return to America’s most feared urban ascent

'If you think you're suffering, you don't have enough problems in your life' – the anatomy of a cycling time trial

Meet the 92-year-old taking on Unbound 200—again: ‘Even if it takes me 24 hours, I’m going to try'

There’s cancer and car wrecks, suicides and overdoses, all-too-young heart attacks and freak accidents. I think of them and I think of their bodies and how they’re no longer here, how t

See Full Page