Horses, Capoeira, and Cycling

I remember the doctor’s words clearly: “I usually see fractures like this in twenty five-year-old football players.” He was perplexed and I was broken-hearted. Once again, I found myself choking back tears that I was too embarrassed to let fall. Had I known what this news was truly taking away from me, I would have bawled openly for days. I was sixteen. I would not do anything competitively for another sixteen years.

At age thirty-two, I accidentally stumbled upon the Brazilian art of capoeira. I had no idea what it was (or what it would give and return to me), but somehow I knew I needed to know everything about it. I studied capoeira for six years. It is a very complex art if one chooses to search the rich depths of its history and meaning as well as the physical aspect. It is a very acrobatic art, and a lot of time is spent upside down, in the air, and falling. And at times, I felt fear, but I already knew that even though I might feel fear, I would not be afraid. I found myself hell bent for knowledge and mastery.

This conquest spanned several years, and consumed many hours of my daily life. It took me away from my family in the form of evening capoeira classes, evening Portuguese classes, retreats, and several journeys to Brazil. This time away from my family definitely created tension between my partner and me. He saw the importance I placed on capoeira, and felt I did not value our relationship nearly the same. When questioned about this, my only explanation was that I just needed it. When questioned further, I slowly began to understand how I loved capoeira. It was a love affair as I knew and preferred love affairs: love laced with fear and conquest, mastery, and competition. For sixteen years, I had been competition deficit, and I wasn’t even close to breaking even. Though there was discontent in my personal relationship, I knew that my own survival depended upon this conquest, and so I forged ahead.

My love affair with capoeira ended with a serious injury caused by—of all people—my instructor. It was my understanding that this injury was inflicted with malice, and with no other capoeira schools teaching the same lineage to go to, I was once again faced with the realization that my love affair was over. However, my psychological bookkeeping still registered that something was missing, and I knew I couldn’t afford to sit around for any amount of time before moving on to mastering another set of competitive skills.

Two years ago, I was lucky enough to be recruited by a local cycling team, and have once again re-discovered my love of competitive sport.