Voor Wouter....RIP...

Renners sterven niet,
ze verdwijnen alleen maar uit het zicht
eens zij de laatste finish hebben overschreden
en de snelheid van het leven
hen met stijve spieren achterlaat.

Want koersen blijven ze,
ook al vallen hart en wielen stil,
zij gaan in duizend hoofden door
met duwen en nooit doodgaan,
hun zweet geeft blijvend glans
aan het asfalt.

Weet dat
wanneer de aarde hen dan toch
met tegenzin bedekt,
hun naam voor altijd
als een echo tussen bergen
zal weerklinken.

© Willie Verhegghe

RIP Wouter Weylandt.

Vanavond 18:36 uur kreeg ik een SMS bericht van mijn zoon, een fietsfanaat...Wouter is dood...ik was aan het werk maar viel van mijn stoel, ik weet wie hij bedoeld en kon het niet geloven. Snel op zoek naar een PC of TV, en daar kwamen de berichten los, verslagen - onbegrip noem maar op, ook ik zelf kwam in deze spiraal terecht. En nog steeds "onbegrip" - waarom en vooral hoe ?

Wat en hoe kan ik dit beschrijven, maar dat was al niet meer nodig, Johan Bruyneel geeft het perfect weer...Wouter, i see you, when i see you.....

That sick feeling in my stomach won't go away. When I heard the news about Wouter, my face must have said it all because my daughter quickly asked me what was wrong. No seven year old should have to know what happened today. The innocence and carefree nature of youth are a beautiful thing.

I didn't know Wouter very well. Our interactions were based around a friendly hello in the hotel or a nod of the head. But it doesn't matter if you are Tyler Farrar (Wouter's best friend) or Wouter's Leopard-Trek roommate or someone like myself or simply just a fan of the sport - we are all filled with pain and sadness today. The cycling community and Wouter's family and friends are in mourning.

Our sport is beautiful. We travel through countries - from the big metropolitan cities to the peaceful countrysides surrounded by mountains. All we really need is a road. There's nothing that showcases the beauty of the world quite like cycling. But many forget just how dangerous our sport is. Riders descend mountains faster than cars and motorcycles. Right, left, right, left - barely tapping on the break. Guests that have been in my car always remark about how fast we are going down hill - like a race car driver. And I always tell them that we (the cars) are just trying to keep up with the riders.

It's a time like this that I think about my own crash off the mountainside in the Tour de France. Unlike Wouter, I was lucky that my crash was softened by the vegetation on the side of the cliff. As crazy as we were those days without a helmet, I can't imagine what could have been. For some reason that I will never know - I was given another chance and was able to climb up from the steep drop. Adrenaline pumping more than ever, I even managed to get back on the bike. It wasn't until later in the stage that I truly realized what had happened and how lucky I was to still be alive. I only wish that I could have passed on that same luck to Wouter.

Though I didn't know Wouter very well, I do know that he loved cycling. To be a professional cyclist, you need to love it, otherwise you wouldn't subject yourself to the training, suffering, long bus rides, uncomfortable hotel beds, etc. It's not what you would call the most luxurious lifestyle. But it's the life that so many of us have chosen to lead simply because of our love for the bicycle. And while Wouter was taken way too early from us, he was doing what he loved. Not many people can say that.

I apologize if this is just a rambling stream of sentences. At times like this, I find comfort in sharing my thoughts no matter if they make complete sense. And I urge you to find something that brings you not only comfort, but a way to remember the life of Wouter Weylandt.

May he rest in peace forever. May his memory live on in all of us. And may his unborn baby know his/her father from the wonderful stories shared by Wouter's family, friends and fans.

My sincere condolences -

Johan