Running commentary

Sisters, Oregon is not so far removed from Lance Armstrong as most people think. He competed in the Cascade Cycling Classic years ago, which has a stage that passes through town. He may have ridden some of the same roads that local bicyclists use regularly. He has been sponsored and promoted by Nike, an Oregon-based company. Everyone knows Lance Armstrong.

Armstrong has been in the top of the sports news the past two weeks, "confessing" to Oprah in a two-part interview aired recently about unparalleled deception related to his cycling career. But does Lance Armstrong's story of being one of the most outlandish cheaters and liars in the history of athletics matter to those of us who go about our lives outside of the world of professional sports?

I believe it does matter.

My mother taught me the adage, "If something looks too good to be true, it usually is."

From my perspective as a longtime endurance athlete, Armstrong appeared too good to be true to me many years ago. His story was too Hollywood, too statistically improbable. There is no way an individual could win seven Tour de France titles without some sort of artificial assistance.

My strong doubt grew to certainty as most of Armstrong's toughest competitors got busted one by one for doping.

I get nervous anytime a single celebrity figure gains such far-reaching fame as Armstrong. The chances of that individual staying true to his roots diminishes drastically as the money piles up and the image grows into something god-like.

The Tour de France ranks among the most prestigious sporting events on the planet, right up there with the Olympics and the Super Bowl. Armstrong himself described it in his autobiography as, "The most gallant athletic endeavor in the world." And that was after he was already cheating.

The drive to win - for self, for country, for cash, for fame - can consume a person's very being. I never read Armstrong's best-selling book - having already written him off for being unbelievable - but many of the past and current runners on my cross-country team apparently did and found inspiration in it.

What are they to think now?

My conclusion on Armstrong is that he showed incredible drive and intelligence. Covering up his massive fairy tale must have taken tremendous energy. To pack the lie around in his mind for all those years must have been ultimately exhausting.

Of course, living the life of a millionaire certainly eased his pain for quite some time.

Armstrong's story is not over, although I quietly wish that he would simply pack up and find a humble existence far from the media spotlight. No more sports, no more drama. The cancer foundation he founded certainly doesn't need him any longer. His only involvement should be to send a check every month of his own from working in some honest line of work that has nothing to do with being a celebrity.

I sincerely doubt Armstrong will disappear anytime soon, however. He has plans to return to sports as a runner and triathlete.

Diana Nyad, a sportswriter, said in the Huffington Post that people she spoke to about Armstrong's interview with Oprah Winfrey described him as a sociopath and as pathological. Even in his "confession" he couldn't be trusted. He and his handlers are always working the angles.

That's my take as well. I am sorry for all who were duped. The 50 million people in America who bought Livestrong bracelets. His fellow competitors. His own children.

And that's why this story matters. Instead of looking to the mass media for role models let's focus closer to home. There are real heroes in our midst that will never be on television or have their own product line. Your neighbor who went back to college at 38; the teacher who stayed after to make sure you learned the concept; the woman who volunteered every week distributing food; the boss who puts money aside in good years so she can still keep her workers in the lean years. These are the people to emulate.

Goodbye, Lance. No more books. No more Oprah. Pay back the money you owe. Dismiss your handlers. Spend time with your five children, who don't really understand who you are. That's more important than anything else. There's time. They'll forgive you.

That is, if you can be completely honest.