Life's Too Short

"Life's too short".  It's a bit of a cliché, but like every cliché there is an element of truth to it.  Sometimes it gets thrown around as a convenient way of excusing what is essentially an "I don't give a f#ck" attitude, and "I can do whateva I want", which of course is not it's intention.  Recognising that life is too short is about us having an understanding that we are not here forever, and what you do here and now matters.

 

That's why I think invariably the people that I have met who experience life from a two-wheeled perspective have a positive outlook on life.  They don't typically get caught up in the grind, the meaningless petty crap that doesn't amount to much.  That's because, when you are on two wheels, you really are living in the moment.  You have to - too much depends on it!

 

Living in the moment also has a tendency to tie in well with another one of those clichés - it's the journey not the destination that is important.  In other words, how you get to take your last breathe is less relevant than all the breathes you took before then, who you chose to breathe them with, where you chose to be when you took those breathes, and the words you did and didn't say with each of those breaths.  Life is too short, which is why how you conduct yourself while you are here is so important.

 

Riding on two wheels is all about the journey, rarely do we seek out the most direct route when we are on two wheels - where is the fun in that!

A book that understands the importance of the journey

 

This Wednesday the 6th August is the eighth anniversary of a loss, a mate who knew the value of each breathe while he was with us, and knew how to conduct himself in an honourable way.  Adam Smiddy was only 26 when he passed away after a short battle with a very aggressive melanoma.  I remember the day Adam told me that his cancer was back as though it was only yesterday, it was at my house where I was having a celebration for my 30th birthday.  I could tell Adam wasn't his usual chirpy self, and I pulled him aside and asked him if something was wrong.  He told me about his illness, and then excused himself because he didn't want to be a 'downer' at my party.  I didn't know what to say and I let him go.  I knew that Adam had melanoma previously, although he didn't talk about it much and didn't act as though it was a big deal.  Consequently I didn't realise it was a big deal, I thought people had skin cancers and moles removed all the time - no biggie.  So even then at my birthday, I didn't realise the significance of that conversation.

 

Adam Smiddy

I went to visit Adam in hospital just a few weeks after my birthday, to cheer him up, have a bit of a laugh, share some cycling stories and encourage him to get better so we could get out on our bikes again.  It wasn't until I saw Adam lying in his hospital bed that I suddenly knew just how sick he was.  I was shocked, and again lost for words.  We tried to make light of the situation, but both of us knew.

 

None of us know for sure how much time we have, and it's up to each of us to decide how that remaining time should be spent. 

 

 

Just leave some time spare for doing some of it on two wheels.