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August 20, 2003
On Sunday I was sitting on the bed at my parent's house leafing through the center pages of Lance Armstrong's book. There are a bunch of pictures of him from various stages of his life. My niece climbed up on the bed with me and asked me who the man in the pictures was. I told her that he was a great bike rider and one of my heroes. Now, I know that I don't ride a bike like that and I wasn't as sick as he was but that doesn't keep me from crying when I think about it.