Round 4: COVID
July 20, 2022 Adam Miller
Sometimes desire and willpower aren’t enough. I can train hard, ride hard, endure injuries, and persevere through setbacks, but I can’t keep back the tide with a broom. After over 2 years of playing the world’s shittiest game of dodge ball, our family finally got hit by COVID. I was the first to feel a bit off, but didn’t know exactly what was going on because sometimes the standard stresses of work, life, and sleep deprivation can make me feel a bit under the weather. Our son Emerson was the next domino to topple and, unfortunately, his symptoms came on hard and fast. He seemed stable enough until the Friday before Round 4 when he woke up with labored breathing and we took him straight to the ER for treatment. I have to say that there is nothing more terrifying than watching your child struggle to breath. I’ve had a lifetime filled with adrenaline sports and nothing even comes close to the deep, primal dread of contemplating the mortal safety of your offspring. The situation was all the worse because my ongoing case of COVID barred me from knowingly entering the ER with my wife and son, so I had to sit on the sidelines like a chump and wait. It was a terrible experience, probably in the top 2-3 worst life experiences so far only relinquishing the top spot because he turned out being alright after treatment. As a family, we have to give a big thanks to Emerson’s nanny, Beckie, who stayed with Kori the entire day in the ER. I have no idea how we’d have made it through the day without her help.
Everyone Sick at the Miller House, July 2022
After a long, hard day in the ER with our son, my pregnant wife was rewarded with the manifestation of her own personal case of COVID, which we initially thought she’d dodged. This, ofcourse, evolved into her own trip to the hospital later in the weekend because we thought she may have been going into preterm labor. Kori’s case remains concerning because a high fever or an inflammatory immune response to the virus can both cause brain damage to a developing fetus, something you don’t get to rule out with certainty until the child is born. Equally as fun a possibility, the placenta can get damaged which would necessitate an early C-section, weeks in intensive care, and a very big setback on early post natal development. We get to find out if that’s what happens in a few weeks. Suffice to say that we’re on edge in the Miller house at the moment. This situation sucks. All I can do now is hold out hope that everything will turn out alright.
Since there’s nothing I can do about the risks right now other than stress about them, I need to get my leg back over a bike soon if, for no other reason, to do something enjoyable. Not only did we just go through 2 extremely serious medical situations, I’ve essentially forfeited my bid at the championship. In terms of relative concern, losing the championship seems insignificant compared to watching your family struggle with mortal danger. However, that fact does not eliminate the sting of effectively giving up the championship. It’s all the worse because the time and resources put into this season are things I won’t be able to replicate for another few years, so it’s not like I can just try again next year. I remember in my FSAE days, a judge telling me that the teams who always did the best were those who had something to prove. I now have something to prove to myself: that Round 2 wasn’t a fluke, that Rounds 3 and 4 results were due to rotten luck, and that when I’m riding at full fitness I can still get out there and win races. From now until season’s end, every round I enter will be done with the intention of winning the race. Not fighting for podiums, not trying to bring home championship points, winning more races. I don’t care how far out of my comfort zone I have to get, don’t care about tucking the front or spinning up the rear, don’t care about the back tire dangling in the air on corner entry or sliding the front to an apex. I don’t care. I just want to win again to prove to myself that I can. Looking at the time sheets, my competitors have found some serious speed, and I must up my game to beat them. Tiempo para el martillo. Never lift.
Glaring at Round 5 With Something to Prove
If you’re enjoying the updates, please consider supporting my program and helping me achieve a dream of mine. Whether it’s a $20 donation through my Give Now page, or sending me spare parts, everything helps and everything is appreciated.
Cheers,
Adam Miller
