Like many Americans, I didn’t become aware of Lance Armstrong until he started racking up the Tour de France victories. Even as he blew through records, I wasn’t much into cycling. Things have changed. With Lance back from retirement and me getting ready to watch my third Tour de France, I thought it a good time to pick up this book. I didn’t expect much (it is a sports autobiography, after all), but was surprised with the honesty, balance, and just good storytelling that Armstrong and his co-author Sally Jenkins put together.
The more I’ve learned about Armstrong, the more it seems that he has always tried to live a straightforward life, and the book is no different. He doesn’t let his reader get very far before coming right out and telling them what’s in store. Usually, I’m not a fan of direct author-reader interaction, but here it works. “I’m sure you’d like to hear about how Lance Armstrong became a Great American and an Inspiration To Us All …. You want to hear about faith and mystery, and my miraculous comeback,” he says on the third page. He’s not far off, either, I’m sure. Many people probably approach this book looking for a lift, ignoring the gritty details of his illness. Armstrong won’t do that, however. He continues, “People die [from cancer]. And after you learn it, all other matters seem irrelevant. They just seem small.”
I was absolutely thrilled to find such a frank tone being set so early on. In the paragraphs I’ve excerpted, Armstrong eliminates the possibility of melodrama. There will be no sap or cheese involved in his narration. In telling about his pre-cancer years, even the successful bits, it doesn’t come off as a life you would want to live. There’s arrogance and anger, plus family issues galore which go a long way to pulling him off the pedestal of fame. A cynic would argue that this an authorial trick, setting up a Cinderella scenario, but that’s wrong. The reader has to understand his personality before the illness in order to appreciate the depth of change it inflicted on his life. That said, the narration has a slightly resigned air, as though he would rather not dwell on that time in his life. Besides, if you want rags to riches, it doesn’t get much more ragged than cancer.
Ultimately this book is about cancer, what it did to his life, and what he had to do to survive. The chapters in which Armstrong talks about the disease, his treatments, and the effects are unflinching in their honesty. There were parts which I actually had trouble reading, not because of graphic details (which are virtually absent), but because of the empathy I felt. The language employed is simple, but manages to communicate the pain and sheer hell of living with cancer. I had no idea just how widespread the disease was in Armstrong. It wasn’t just his testicle; it spread to his his lungs and brain with a frightening rapidity. Likewise, I was completely clueless on the level of toxicity employed in chemotherapy. The doctors are poisoning the patient with some of the most vile substances around in a desperate attempt at salvation. Some of the chemo parts were difficult to read, but they helped me develop an appropriate respect for anyone forced to undergo such treatment. There are no euphemisms employed here, only the bare truth. That includes, mind you, the occasional smiles and human connections which foster strength and endurance. The lone fact that such desolate ground was covered without a whiff of hyperbole or sensationalism makes this a book worth your time.
It’s not all doom and gloom. He does live, and he does win. Indeed, once the cancer goes into remission and he begins to ride, the narration becomes some of the best sports writing I’ve ever read. The comeback was not easy, either emotionally or physically, but it did happen and is a great story in and of itself. In the telling, Armstrong provides the reader with a primer on the world of competitive cycling. If you’ve ever watched any bike races, you already know more than you think. The politics of it, however, were entirely new to me, as were the dynamics of races and racers, with his discussion of the peleton something I found especially enlightening. The coverage of the Tour itself was impressive in that the book reduces a three week race to a manageable chapter without losing anything in the process. There were times the writing had me all but standing in my chair, cheering him to the finish line like it was a live race.
A topic which is only tangentially discussed is performance enhancers in cycling. Nevertheless, after reading this book I am more convinced than ever that dopers are stone cold idiots. I am also certain that Armstrong has never been among their ranks. When I consider the frequency and intensity with which the drug control organizations test riders, and Lance in particular, it leaves me incredulous that anyone would think they could go undetected. If the same level of scrutiny were employed in all sports, I don’t think baseball would have the issues that it does. As for Armstrong, the question of his drug use is answered in my mind. After all the races, after all the wins, there is no question in that had he been doping, they would have caught him.
In the end, I found the book both an enthralling read and an educational one as well. It is a snapshot of Armstrong at that point in his life, the story of how he got there. There are things which have happened since, especially his divorce from wife Kristen, who he speaks of tenderly in the book, which leave me with questions. But in a sense, that makes me like the guy and his book all the more. He’s an imperfect hero who manages to do extraordinary things, and if that’s not an American storyline, I don’t know what is.
On a side note, the new Nike/Livestrong commercial is out and echoes everything that makes the book great.
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