On getting angry

I am, in general, not an angry person. Yes, if someone cuts me off, or does something stupid that makes other people suffer, or if I feel there has been an injustice committed, I have been known to get angry. Sometimes an authority figure may trigger a certain anger reflex, of which I'm not always so proud. But overall, and especially within the last few years, I've been pretty peaceful.

However:

Yesterday, I exercised for the first time in almost a month. There is a workout room in our new building, and I got on the treadmill and turned on the Tour. And there is Lance, pedaling uphill with his team around him. While I'm not sure I admire him as a person, as an inspiration he is, at the moment, my hero. His power comes not just from some super-human physiology, but also from a deep fury within him; it helped him fight cancer, it helps him win. Watching him, I felt a welling up inside me, a combination of sadness, fear, doubt, anger, hope, love, confidence, motivation, and exhilaration. I fought back tears, and instead cranked up the incline and increased the speed so that I felt like I was power-walking up those French mountains right next to Lance. I thought, now it's time to get angry and FIGHT! I will NOT let this cancer win, dammit!

I had the best workout ever.