"Christopher Robin..."

Christopher Robinson, don't let me find you and SLAP some ACT RIGHT into you.

Now that I have your attention brother be at peace cos I didn't mean any of that but I'm hoping to encourage you don't quit, DON'T GIVE UP! So your expensive road bicycle feels off the hitch she dreads for a few miles. You say that was a sign for you to quit the sport? Uh uhn...no way hose A… don't do it.

You see this guy on the motorcycle, or rather next to the motorcycles, that's me. it took me 10 years from 8 years old to 18 years old to get my first dirt bike.

You're looking at the 17th and 16th dirt bike I've had, the orange KTM and the green Kawasaki. I've had far more bikes than the people who got me into this sport in the first place cos I stuck with it. I didn't give up.

Once I got my first dirt bike in 1980 it took me another 10 years before I would win an overall race. Because I stuck with it while some of my friends did what you're thinking about doing... they bailed out when the struggle got real.

**Don't do that; it will eat away at your Soul.**

Your bike could've come off the carrier ALL the way like I had one do. You saw this incident as a sign to quit...I see it hanging on for as long as it did as a sign for you to STAY.

Look at THIS sign. Before I started racing my dirt bike I used to practice at City Park in New Rochelle, New York. I had the trails to myself usually as no one else dared the risk of having the police stop them… and impound they're precious bike.

I was getting better than the small trails would allow so often the police would stop and just watch when I started going faster than what seemed reasonable. That was pretty neat.

One day I'm out practicing turns and lean the bike over into a right hand corner only to look up and see another bike... coming right at me. BANG!!!

We SMASHED into each other and a bolt on the other rider's handlebar sliced the top of my hand wide open. I could see the white meat and the tendons sliding... then the BLOOD comes pouring out. In that moment I'm saying to myself ''This is a sign... I'm DONE, F*** THIS SPORT, I'M DONE!''

Later on while they were stitching me up at the hospital I noticed something; I had an ephipany of sorts.

The slice happened BETWEEN the tendons in the back of my right hand, the throttle hand.. A little bit to either side and I'd have lost full use of my dominant hand. Disaster averted by some Cosmic Mind.

I now saw the sign that was telling me to quit was now telling me I have a second chance to still become a racer like I'd been dreaming for the last several years. I forged on with encouragement from my friends who saw my passion and desire. My family HATED motorcycles. I told them I got hurt at work.

In time I went on to win heat races, then put two good heats together to win the overall.

In more time I won so many races or ran in the top 3 I became the Walden Playboys Motocrosss champion in my 40+ B division in 2001.

In combined A & B races I was usually first Amateur (B) and sometimes second place on the track beating most the Expert/local Pro riders. All because I didn't give up when I thought I was supposed to.

I don't know who said that ''all men must die once, but the cowardly die a thousand times'' but it is so true.

Keith Richards, the man who defies medical science by NOT being dead already once said, "You'll regret the things you DIDN'T do more than the things you did do.''

I have to agree with the rolling stoner. Don't give up because something is hard, scary, or stressful. As an athlete I've faced many battles as I'm sure you have also... most of which we had some semblance of control in the outcome.

But this battle I'm now facing, diagnosis of the "C" word, I have zero control. It, my life, is literally in His hands and the hands of the great Dr. Benson. I'm not giving up this time either.

Chris Robinson, if you've read this far, then deep in your Soul you don't want to give road cycling up.

My last dirt bike race was in 2005. I took up cycling in 2009 after a full knee replacement.

Got my ass KICKED by the Major Taylor Iron Riders of Brooklyn, NY. These guys are smoking fast; they're the toughest, strongest cycling club in the state and possibly the north east. Men like Clarence Bateman, Grant Wesley Johnson Jr., Steve Humpage, Tony Monge, and Mel Corbett beat my ass SENSELESS. But after 2.5 years of trying the only place they were dropping me was in the hills cos I'm 50 lbs. heavier than them at 200 lbs.

Then in 2014 I was almost checked out if the kiddos if the living. You see, at 36 mph the carbon forks on my Chinese knockoff Trek broke under me.

One T.B.I. later, loss of finances, house, and even my beloved AMG E55… I'm asking the Universe, "WHY, WHY ME?"

Yes, of course I took break to fix my life after all that.

Was I scared to get back on a road bicycle?

You'd have to crazy not to be afraid. It took 6 years to get reasonably serious again. I rode my MTB on the paved trails. When I realized I was running up on people too fast I knew I had to take it to the streets.

"Every setback is the setup for a big COMEBACK."

- A wise man

So here were are in 2021. I spent a bunch of last year dipping my toes back in the water of road cycling and sucking up my courage. I gingerly rode my mtb on the streets to get used to being around cars again. When I felt strong and comfortable enough I made the decision.

I replaced the broken forks with the BEST I could afford buy, the 3T Funda. Only the Enve forks are better in my opinion but the best bargain for me was the 3T. I've been back on the road since late 2020.

So in earnest what I'm trying to tell you is DON'T QUIT before the miracle happens.

The challenge of cycling... or motocrosss or any positive pursuit... is not against your fellow man, it's really against the YOU from yesterday.

I once had a brand new, one month old KX500 dirt bike fall off the trailer on the way to practice. Go ahead, get the shock and then laughter out. Yup, it's true. When I pulled into the track I looked behind the van she was gone, gone, gone.

2 years of upcoming payments for a bike that someone found on I-95 southbound and snatched up was welder I had to look forward to. That was in 1987. My friend Kevin Blanding was on a break from racing; he was kind enough to sell me his 1986 KX500 so I could keep on racing. It was embarrassing to be infamous in paddocks of the District 34 races; but it wasn't for what is have preferred it to be.

Countless people kept asking, "Are you the guy whose bike fell off the trailer?" They were being sympathetic but, jeez, I wanted to run and hide. Sometimes I did hide.But I didn't give up…not for one second. I raced dirt bikes until the end of 2005.

Things happen brother, not evening is a sign of we look deeper into it Soul, because in the end that all we really have to unless anyway.

"Carry on, Sir Montesquieu."