Lance Armstrong. I think it was in 2005 that I read the first installment of his autobiographical jottings ("It's Not About The Bike"). I had read the book while I was in rather emotionally trying times and ergo, the book is littered with underlined passages and notes that I had written to myself - random and arbitrary things that I felt while reading some of the passages - they range from self-uplifting get-up-and-get-going notes, "I-agree-with-you-Armstrong/ I-disagree-with-you-Armstrong" notes, 'something-similar-had-once-happened-to-me' notes, and just about anything that came to my mind that I felt like putting down, to get out of a silly emotional rut that was weighing on my mind. I have a habit of jotting down something on the cover page while buying any book, anything random - ranging from reasons why I bought the book, to descriptions of the place from where I bought it from, or anything that came to my mind at that time. The Armstrong book has the date on which I got the book, along with the jotting - "1st happy Sunday since September 18, 2005".

The book was marvelous, describing in vivid detail Armstrong's brush with testicular cancer, his exit from world cycling, his loss of endorsement contracts, the long and traumatic road to recovery, and his miraculous comeback. The book showed the man behind the bike, unabashedly talking about the intimate details that revolve around testicular cancer, his fights with his own body, the shared trauma of a family, the support from the two main ladies in his life - his mother and in an equally prominent role, his wife Kristina ('Kik'), on how he was blessed to have such a mother and a wife. Perhaps what grabs you about the book most is that it is all about survival. The book speaks volumes about survival, on battling the odds head-on, on how one can shatter the shackles that fetter one down provided one hangs in there long enough.

The world moves on. Newspapers later reported Armstrong's divorce from his wife (and the mother of his three children). Newspapers reported his subsequent link-up with singer Sheryl Crow. Newspapers reported his break up with Sheryl Crow when she was going through her own battles with breast cancer as Armstrong somehow couldn’t take the pressures of dealing with it. Newspapers reported his later link-up with fashion designer Tory Burch, and their subsequent split.

And just the other day, I caught a news item saying that Armstrong was caught making out with one of the Olsen twins. The paper was a tabloid, and went on to describe in vivid detail all that they were doing while seated at some city hotel in the United States, quoting salacious inputs from onlookers.

Somehow the news item disturbed me beyond what I thought it would. Somehow, to me it was not a random news clip about some celebrity being caught with his pants down. To me it was something more, something that kind of filled me with distasteful bile.

To me it read something like the fall of a hero.

Well...

((My copy of the "It's Not About The Bike" book has been a fiercely guarded one, almost like a personal diary. The second installment "Every Second Counts" is home too, without a single jotting on it, not even the date. I think when we hero-worship someone, we have this tendency to elevate them to some thou-shalt-do-no-wrong pedestal (or, to sound more local, the 'Sachin-shall-always-hit-every-ball-for-a-six' pedestal), feeling deeply disappointed when they digress from the pedestal that we place them on. Somewhere I guess, we overlook that tiny tidbit that deep down, once the hero mantle has been cast aside, they're simple human beings too. Human beings who go through life with the same level of doubt, questions, insecurities and faults as any of us.))

"With great powers come great responsibility."

"I can’t stand to fly, I’m not that naïve,

I’m just out to find, the better part of me

I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane

More than some pretty face beside a train

It’s not easy to be me…

Wish that I could cry, fall upon my knees

Find a way to lie, about a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd, but don’t you be naive

Even heroes have the right to bleed

I may be disturbed, but won’t you concede

Even heroes have the right to dream

It’s not easy to be me…”

 - "Superman"

Five for Fighting