It was 5 a.m. on a July morning, 5 years ago. I was starting hour 23 of a 36-hour shift and was on my way to catch my first and only 30 minutes of sleep. I noticed a light on in the resident lounge and I peered in. My fellow resident, Helge from Germany, sat in front of the computer, listening to something in German.
“Helge,” I whispered. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Hey, Dan! The Tour de ... hold on ... Ullrich and Armstrong are flying up the Pyrenees.”

Instead of losing more precious sleep asking Helge why had come to work at 5 am on his day off to listen to a bike race in German, I headed for bed.

Exactly one year later, I finished residency and moved back to Santa Barbara. Nervous about starting my dream job, I found myself wide-awake at 5 am. I turned on the television and began to channel surf. My options were infomercials, reruns of Flipper and a bike race - not much to choose from. I watched a little of each and eventually settled on the bike race because I enjoyed the accents of the commentators. I became more absorbed in the race as I watched an American in a yellow jersey fly up the side of a steep mountain. I flashed back to the image of Helge listening to the race in his native tongue.

It’s not about the bike

During the last four years, I have religiously followed the Tour de France and Lance Armstrong. After learning about the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelets from a patient, I have worn one for most of this past year. Over the past several weeks, however, I have developed an even greater appreciation and admiration for professional cycling. A colleague recently encouraged me to read Lance Armstrong’s autobiography It’s Not About the Bike, My Journey Back to Life. I raced through this book with almost the same intensity as Lance competing in a time trial.

For the casual sports enthusiast, Lance takes you inside the world of pelotons, domestiques and the maillot jaunt. He gives insight into training routines, nutrition and how to tactically master a race.
The deeper story is about Lance’s life, an unbelievable tale of a boy raised by his loving, single, teen mom and how he was treated like an outcast by his peers because he was riding bicycles instead of throwing footballs.

Lance was a brash competitor who was riding to the top of the world before an aggressive testicular cancer invaded his lungs, brain and abdomen. On the brink of death, this young 25-year-old persevered and found the courage to rebuild his mind and body and win the most prestigious event in his sport seven years in a row.

I thought I knew Lance’s story. I thought I had an idea of what a cancer patient went through. That was before I read the book.

An inspiration on and off the bike

Several aspects of Lance’s story stand out. He is an inspirational figure. When I watch Lance accelerate up a series of mountains, he makes me want to go out and exercise. A recent television commercial shows Lance running through a small town and each person he passes stops what he is doing and starts exercising. It makes me wonder what would happen if we required couch potatoes to watch Lance in action.

A major challenge in my profession is talking to teenagers about self-exams of the testicles and breasts. One of my partners has developed a clever strategy for discussing this sensitive topic. As an ice-breaker, he asks his patient to tell him about their yellow LIVESTRONG wristband. They then talk about Lance Armstrong, testicular cancer and the importance of self exams.

Lance’s real story is his battle with cancer: diagnosis, chemotherapy, remission, fear of relapse and life after cancer. Reading detailed accounts of his interactions with doctors, treatment options and the sensation of chemotherapy running through his veins gave me a much better appreciation for what a person may suffer through. Lance, with the Lance Armstrong Foundation, is providing valuable support for people with cancer, improving public awareness and raising money to fight cancer.

Living Strong

The more I learn about Lance, the more motivated I become. I will never win the Tour de France, but like Lance, I strive to be one of the best in my field. I will never ride my bike six hours a day, but I can make time to exercise several times a week. I wear the yellow LIVESTRONG wristband in honor of Lance’s accomplishments, the fight against cancer and to remind myself that I can live strong every day.