Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Day 28 - Lessons from Major Taylor

Major Taylor riding his bike
Over the last several days, I had taken a special interest in Marshall Walter "Major" Taylor, the first American world champion in cycling for the one mile back in 1899.  Not many would be familiar with his superhuman efforts during a time when African Americans suffered under Jim Crow, blantant racism, segregation, related violence and poverty.

According to many, cycling during the late 1800s and early 1900 prior to the Great Depression experienced popularity similar to baseball.  Major Taylor made more money annually than famous baseball players such as Ty Cobb of his time.

Major Taylor's success is remarkable and stands out at a time when cycling could be arguably viewed as a middle or upper middle class sport with the expensive equipment, time needed to train, and resources necessary to be successful.

Cycling has been an activity and much less a sport for me.  I shared my first experiences as a child when my mother's second husband taught me how to ride a ten speed bike when I was in the third or forth grade.  I did not have a bike of my own until the fifth or sixth grade.

My first was a yellow Huffy dirt bike, which was heavy by today's standards, used, and worn by the time it was handed down to me.  It was made of gold as far as I was concerned.

For a number of years, my bike became the main means for getting around.  I even used it to help sell cookies and magazine subscriptions door-to-door for my elementary school fundraisers.  Although it helped me get around to baseball practice and other things, it was also my escape during some difficult times in my pre-teen years.

Through high school and college, bike riding fell low on my list of priorities.  Driving a car as for many teenagers was the main mode of transportation that I aspired toward.  During my travels across the US, I ended up selling my bike for extra money to help with one of many family moves.  Cycling as I would learn to call it became a pasttime fondness.

I did not own another bike until much later during graduate school with kids and several more years under my belt.  Running seemed too hard on my knees and other exercises seemed boring and uninteresting to keep my attention. Americanized competitive yoga, pilates, and running machines were great if you had no other choice and wanted to dull your mind at the same time. My new green monster bike became my outlet in many ways as it had during my pre-teens - an outlet during stressful times that would be considered par for the course in adulthood.

These childhood memories hold a special place in my mind.  As I share cycling with my kids during rides across downtown, through the summer, and during fun rides on the East Side, they help me re-experience special moments that I had alone when I was coming up.  The talks, sharing ideas, making jokes and silly observations with my kids as we ride have been times invaluable to me. I get to know them on.

Cycling has held a special place in me.  I was glad to learn about an African American champion who I could point to beyond the glamour and glitter of the current cycling bonanza with big money, drugs, competition, and glitz that comes with it.

Unfortunately, Major Taylor died a pauper.  All the fame and money the man made did not avoid a sad ending. With all his worldwide fame, historical significance, and money he made at the time ($15 to 30K annually), Taylor would succumb to the American nightmare.

I shared his story with my kids who thought it a wonder that they never heard of him before.  As we talked about his life and accomplishments, Major Taylor became another talking point on our bike rides through East Austin.

His story reasonants with me because his success required determination, persistence in spite of obstacles that should have torn him down, and faith in something more powerful to get him through it all.  Along the way, Taylor had people who believed in him and share his vision, faith, and determination.

I won't win the kind of championships Major Taylor had.  However, in my children's eye, each day I win a small victory.  They allow me to be their champion and we share the winner's cup with hopes of bearing good fruits.  Sometimes my kids hold me up way too high where it has been hard to make mistakes and be human.

As each year passes, they have seen me more as who I am, flawed and with blemishes.  Still, they love me. They do not really understand unconditional love.  I think they reciprocate what they experience and reflect back what they receive.  They are not mirror images, but I believe you get back what you put in.

I may not bring home a championship trophy to them.  They are the only reward I need.  Their gift to me is their loving hearts, great personalities, inquisitive minds, and funny sense of humor.  With them, I fill more like a champ everyday.

When I think about the reasons for taking care of myself, eating well, exercising, reducing my stress, and making good on what my mother gave to me, my kids' faces come to mind every time.  There are other benefits for me personally that cannot be ignored.  It's also nice to arrive from work and see those faces shine up the room when they call my name, hug me tightly, and allow me to hold their hands.  Their hands remain very gentle to me. My kids are two of a hundred reasons to take care, be well, and live healthy.

These thoughts among many others have kept me on my path to exercise and be mindful of the food that I eat.  If anything, I've re-learned that determination and persistence is required to stay on track, which is no different than Major Taylor's values.  I expect to avoid his unfortunate downward spiral late in life by learning from his examples in success and failure through his life.

Below is a clip with images of Major Taylor over the years.



Make a comment or give feedback below. Share Brother From Another Planet blog with friends or Enter your email in one easy step with button from the right column.

No comments: