Transcriber: Alina Siluyanova Reviewer: Denise RQ
Now, this suitcase is a little security blanket,
I take it everywhere I go.
I'm planning a little trip after this little speech.
You know, like many people, I remember the first time that I ever rode a bicycle.
I mean, really rode a bicycle.
On my own, totally unassisted.
Sure, I'd been given lessons before.
You know, the awkward kind of push and release on a grass field?
But those rides always seem to fall a little short.
When I was about four-five years old, I decided to take matters in my own hands,
and I found this slightly downhill driveway,
and I actually learned how to balance
by coasting with my feet slightly off to the side
on this pink-tasseled beauty that I called "Snow White".
(Laughter)
It was a solid evening of coasting before I decided to put pressure on the pedals,
and when I did, it was magic.
Total freedom.
(Laughter)
Later that night, I went back home, and I told my parents
that I had taught myself how to ride a bicycle.
And I don't think that they really believed me.
It was either that or they just had other more important things on their mind.
For them, and I think for a lot of people,
riding a bicycle will always remain just a trivial part of childhood,
kind of like screaming for no reason or playing tag.
But for me, it was a total epiphany.
So as a latchkey kid with immigrant parents trying to struggle, to survive,
a bicycle became my nurture, became my tool of discovery.
When I was in elementary school, I would literally disappear for hours
riding my bike through some, I guarantee, very interesting parts of Los Angeles.
By the time I was in junior high,
I was given this yellow Schwinn Varsity 10-speed bicycle,
and I learned how to shift, and I learned how to change a tube.
And then me, my brother, and my cousins
actually rode our bikes from Los Angeles all the way down to San Diego.
I think I was, like, 13 years old or something.
From that point on, I rode my bike almost every single day,
I was totally obsessed, I'd fallen in love.
Today, my job, my title, whatever,
I am the Director of Sports, Science and Technology
for the RadioShack Professional Cycling Team.
I've got my PhD at the University of Colorado
learning everything I could
about sorority girls and elite human performance.
(Laughter)
I've coached countless riders all over the world
to national titles, and world titles, and Olympic medals, and professional wins.
I've ridden with a presidential candidate,
and I've even ridden with the guy who beat him.
(Laughter)
I've even had the really unique experience,
- say, very unique experience -
of working with both Floyd Landis and with Lance Armstrong,
two of only three Americans to have ever won the Tour de France.
People tell me that I have the dream job, and I agree, I have my dream job.
I am very thankful and very grateful.
Ever since watching Greg LeMond won the 1986 Tour de France
with this guy John Tesh playing piano in the background
(Laughter)
- I don't know if you remember that -
I've been totally enamored by the Tour.
I've always dreamt about being a part of the Tour de France.
I've idealized the Tour ever since I was a kid,
and I still do today.
In fact, I've built my whole entire professional career
around the Tour de France, around that dream,
because it was the only thing big enough I could find to legitimize my passion.
Here is the deal: when you're a kid, and you're riding your bicycle everywhere,
and you go get comic books, and chewing gum, et cetera,
that's a normal part of childhood play, that's a normal part of being a child.
But the Tour de France, being a part of that race, that's what adults do,
that's a career, that's special,
that's a great way of showing how ambitious you are.
But here is the problem: ambition is a very easy thing to hide behind
until one day you realize it's all you have,
until that childhood bicycle starts to become this fuzzy memory in your head,
and you start to ask yourself what happened.
Because here is the reality: ever since my first Tour de France,
I really actually haven't ridden my bike at all.
Instead, I've traded my bike in for this suitcase,
and this suitcase is a powerful excuse.
It represents my world now, it represents endless days on the road,
and it represents being stuck on the tournament for hours at a time.
This picture here that you see, I took literally in a panic attack,
three hours sitting on the tarmac during a snowstorm at DIA.
The suitcase also represents a lot of sleep on the bus.
You get up whenever you can.
It represents that endless pursuit for the next win, which is my job now,
it's my responsibility, it's my dream, because right now I'm an adult.
This suitcase, for the people who know me, this suitcase is always packed.
I'm always ready to go, to suffer, to endure, to sacrifice,
just like the riders that I coach.
And, yes, I find it really ironic,
I find it ironic that my work in professional cycling
actually keeps me from riding.
But you know, if you think about it,
I think about it all the time, it's actually a pretty small thing,
because like most of us chasing their dream,
I've forsaken a lot more: I've forsaken relationships,
and my health, and plenty of happiness pursuing the dream.
So I find it kind of strange, a little awkward, maybe unfair for me
to get up here on this stage and talk to you about the benefits of cycling
which was my original intent,
when I can't even really figure a way to do it myself.
And, yes, they tell me there are benefits, and I actually did a bunch of research,
and I put together all these facts and figures together,
and I was going to wow you guys
with what Von Huth Smith et Al. said, and what Woodcock et Al. said,
but I think it comes down to a couple of points,
and these are real points.
Point number one: you are just going to live longer
if you ride a bicycle instead of driving a car.
There is plenty of evidence for that.
Point number two:
driving sucks.
(Laughter)
Right?
(Cheers) (Applause)
An hour a day in your car corresponds
with a 6% increase in the likelihood of being obese.
A person driving in a car breathes 60% more carbon monoxide
compared to somebody
who has got a ventilation rate two to three times of that
riding in traffic.
And, you know, the bottom line is:
I've never seen somebody happy driving a car.
(Laughter)
The next point is we're lazy guys, we're really lazy.
Did you know that only 25% of the time we spend in our cars
is actually [spent on the 14 mile average US commute]
whereas 50% of the time that we spend in our cars
are for trips of three miles or less?
Three miles or less. That's how we spend our time.
My last point is that not riding is expensive.
If we shifted from riding our bikes--
shifted to riding our bikes instead of driving our cars,
the amount that we would save in terms of social infrastructure
would be about 50 cents per mile.
Oregon saves about two billion dollars per year
because they ride more than the rest of the country.
Annual cost of being obese
is about [5,000 dollars] for a woman, [3,000 dollars] for a man.
Every pound that we increase the average weight of an American,
we increase fuel consumption by 40 million gallons.
Last year we wasted like a billion gallons of gasoline;
a billion gallons of gasoline because we're too heavy.
We spend a lot on the transportation, too.
8,000 dollars to maintain your car, 300 dollars to ride your bicycle.
Maybe that's why a company like Health Insurance Company Humana
is investing in the Denver B-cycle program.
Maybe it's gotten to a point where actually investing in prevention
is financially smarter than chronic illness.
(Applause)
But I'll stop here.
We've heard so many facts and figures tonight,
and in my mind, knowing doesn't always help.
As much as I loved to ride a bicycle,
I've got my career, and it's my one shot to make it.
And I've got this baggage now.
And I've crafted this entire lifestyle,
and it's a lifestyle, and it won't let go.
Or maybe, I won't let go.
My job is to try to help people be the best that they can,
to push the boundaries of human possibility.
People are always asking me, "Allen, what's the secret?
What's the magic sauce, whatever?"
They're always asking me about training, and nutrition, and latest innovation,
but do you know what the truth is?
The truth is there are no shortcuts.
When Fausto Coppi,
the great Italian cyclist who'd won the 1949 and 1952 Tour de France
was asked, "How to be a champion?",
his response was very simple, he said, "Just ride, just ride, just ride."
It was something that I remembered the last year Tour de France:
Lance, on stage 8, in the city of Morzine, suffered this devastating crash.
And I knew at that point this race was totally over,
we weren't going to win his eighth Tour de France,
and it'd been an obsession up to that whole entire point,
and in a second it was just gone.
And knowing that and watching Lance
struggling to get back on his bicycle to finish that stage,
the only thing that I could think of were the words of Coppi,
"Just ride, just ride, just ride."
And out of that mantra,
what I realized was that all I wanted to do was to just ride.
And so I sat down one day trying to figure out how to make that happen,
trying to figure out how to take down all of the barriers in my life
that prevented me from riding,
and the really crazy thing is that just in that process
my life started to get better and I hadn't even got on the bicycle yet;
just having that simple goal of wanting to just ride.
And so, what I am really here to tell you guys tonight is to just ride.
Better yet, I challenge each of you not to just ride
but to reignite whatever passion lays dormant within you
because it's in there.
Forget about what Yoda said too, this is not do or die,
it's not like you're trying to levitate
some X-wing fighter out of a marsh using only the Force.
(Laughter)
All I'm asking you to do is to try.
Put a little sliver in there and try
(Laughter)
(Applause)
because I know that even if you never get on a bicycle,
the problems that you will solve in your own life by trying
will be much bigger than the ride itself.
Like most great goals in life,
it's really not about the winning and the loosing,
it's about the journey, it's about the open road that lies ahead of us.
So just ride, just ride, just ride.
Because if it was a good idea when we were kids,
then maybe, just maybe, it's a better idea now that we're adults.
So, I'm going to make all of you a promise: next year I'm going to try,
I'm going to take my excuse, I'm going to take my baggage,
and I'm going to try to create a solution.
And in the spirit of all things American--
- Hold on a second.
Hold on, it's a big solution. -
In the spirit of all things American,
my solution, you got it, it's a bigger suitcase.
(Laughter)
And I'm going to take this suitcase, I'm going to open this thing up.
Hopefully, I'll find a good answer,
but you never know, I could be really crazy like they said.
Yeah, the answer was yes.
And I'm going to pull out of this suitcase all of my love, my sweet little precious
(Laughter)
and all of my fear
- this is actually scary doing this in front of all of you, guys -
and all of my trouble,
and all of my joy
(Laughter) (Applause)
and I'm going to build myself one answer.
I'm going to try to ride my bike as much as possible,
and this doesn't mean
that I'm going to quit my job, or leave my baggage behind.
In fact, I'm definitely taking it with me.
(Laughter)
I always do. It goes with me everywhere.
And when people ask me where I'm going,
I'll probably tell them what I always tell them,
because it's the only place I ever spend my time,
and it really depresses the crap out of me.
I'm going to tell them, "I'm going to the airport."
(Laughter)
(Applause)
(Video) (Music)
Allen Lim: Well, why didn't I ask these guys to just take the bus?
I've got a little cramp.
(Airport announcement)
[Just ride.] [Just ride. Just ride.]
[Just ride. Just ride. Just ride.]
(Applause)
Thank you.
(Applause)