Posts
Alas
I'd considered adding this to the end of this morning's other post, but it, the person, deserves more than an addendum. Yesterday afternoon, a friend asked if I had heard of the death of Andy Bishop, who succumbed to cancer. A few weeks ago, running with friends, we were comparing personal heroes, so I told my story of avoiding having heroes. 1995 was my first season with a pro license, and locally, it started amazingly. After finishing second in a sprint to Jan Wiejak in the first race, I'd won races four weekends in row and was leading the New England race series. The next weekend, before my first true pro race, a combined national and world cup at Mount Snow, I raced at Killington with a lot, maybe too much, confidence. When the field sprinted off the start line for the long climb to the summit, I casually started pedaling, figuring I had plenty of time, and strength, to catch them by the top. That was true for all but two riders in front of me. It wasn't a technica...
