I just watched Lance Armstrong confess to doing exactly what I was sure he had never done.
As a teenager, I idolized professional bike racers. So, I got a road bike, rode all over Milwaukee County and I pictured myself riding the hills of France someday. So when Lance (who is only 16 days older than me) won his first tour, I was hooked. I followed every tour, every stage, every interview. I believed him and defended him to anyone that would listen. Even as the evidence piled up, I'm sure I was one of the last to admit to myself that he probably cheated. He was my hero. He duped me.
I'm not mad or even disappointed in him today. I'm sad for him and glad for him. Sad that he had to create such outlandish lies and hurt so many people that he cared about. Glad that he can finally enter his own authentic life.
I see