Obsessing Over Placing

As the youngest child in my family, I waited patiently for years to graduate up to the adult table. Now I see the kids’ table has the most fun.

Yesterday I saw my brother for the first time since his release from the hospital where he had a brain tumor removed. David is the handsome, highly motivated one of the litter so it was difficult to see him not himself. His driver's license was revoked because he lost some motor skills during the operation. He drove himself to Easter dinner. Some things never change.

Dave's left side was paralyzed after the operation. Most of his motor skills have come back but his brain still isn’t telling his ankle to move when he walks. They implanted electrodes in his leg that can detect when he is walking and sends current to his calf mussels that moves his foot in the, more or less, correct position.

I recently stumbled across the very interesting blog of a bicycle racer who has, literally, a broken heart. She had a pace maker installed in her heart so she can continue to race. She used data from her Power Tap to help the Doctors tweak the settings.

I find myself in the same place I am every April, fretting about the first race of the year and looking for a quick fix. My new 20.5 lb super incredible bike isn’t enough. Last year I suggested maybe a tattoo would help. No, I need to kick it up a level. I figure if I can have electrodes inserted into my quads, and a bionic heart put in place of the scrawny one god gave me, both of which controlled by a grip shift type throttle on my bike, I may very well be able to place in an Expert race this spring. If this doesn’t work, I will have to take drastic measures, or I am going to have to learn to be content with my ability. I am leaning towards drastic measures.