Maui Moments # 3

Michael Stone is an athletic guy. He is an incredibly gifted triathlete from Boulder, Colorado, whom can race with the best of them. He can swim, mountain bike, and run on any course the same as I, regardless of the degree of difficulty or not, and do it in suitable fashion mind you. Michael Stone is an athlete fearless of what might lie ahead during the time spent out there competing on the course, just as the majority of other athletes who are undertaking the same as he. With Michael though there is something different, something different that separates him only for the sole reason that he is unlike all the others he races against. His internal drive to tackle what seems like the impossible to many who know him, quite possibly could be bigger than the real challenge he faces daily, each an everyday in his life. You see, Michael Stone is blind.

Of all the special moments for me at this years xterra world championship race, Maui Moment number three would prove to have the most profound, and learned effect on me. The long lasting, and deep impression it has left on me from the instant I saw it, clearly opened my eyes to a new found awareness regarding the effects into one individual competitors condition, and just how much a human being will continue to squeeze the most out of life, even when being hindered by a crippling disability that only promises to worsen in time. 

Shortly into the first few miles of the mountain bike portion at the recent xterra world championship race, I came upon Michael and his guide rider Jared Berg. They were sandwiched in between a growing pack of cyclists looking to advance further on. The group was bunched together looking for the right opportunity to break loose. The location was a freshly cut section of trail that basically was single track full of various sharp turns, climbs, and short, but fast little hills amidst surrounding bush. As fate would have it, I found myself right on the rear wheel of the guide rider, with Michael being directly in front of him being that's how they ride. Initially I tried to jump at the first chance I had to go around, but something, most likely my own instant realization that I was being given a once in a lifetime chance to see something really special, forced me to bail on attempting to pass. What quickly followed was a few minutes journey into the most fulfilling experience I could have been privy to that entire day. Cycling along as the trail changed in direction and difficulty, I listened intently to the words of direction being shouted out to Michael from his guide. As Jared offered direction of travel through his own window of vision, Michael followed suit. Blindly. He would turn when ordered, speed up when prompted, and shift endlessly to accommodate the terrain of which he could not see. It was an amazing display of trust and confidence to witness first hand.

 Attune to what I was hearing and seeing, I thought very briefly about closing my own eyes and sampling just what Micheal himself doesn't see, but most certainly feels. I wondered if I could maneuver through a less technical section of trail just as he, but thought smarter of it when I quickly realized the instructional commands being shouted just ahead, didn't match up with the specific section of trail I was on. Through the several sand pits we went, before I took to the left in order to get by. When I pulled directly next to Michael, I quickly shouted out in emotional announcement that it twas I, then promptly followed by me telling him just how inspirational I felt he was. Something along the lines that I felt he was one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my life, period. Ever! I continued to cycle on, thinking constantly throughout the remainder of the race of Michael, his athletic effort, and his words of praise that he always showers me with each time we see, and or speak to each other.

Michael Stone always says to me, "Rich Costello, your a good man," each time we cross paths, brought forth due to our mutual love for adventurous competition. His complimenting words always making me raise an eyebrow and shake my head in disbelief each time he says that. I never get used to it. Though small in stature and ever so polite in conversation, his words carry heavy meaning that evoke such a deep emotional response, from within me each time. It's not that I feel uneasy or worthy of such verbal compliments, no it's not that. What it is though, is the humbling appreciation that here is someone who clearly has tougher obstacles and hurdles to over come than I, that is without question. He chooses to not only overcome those barriers in a manner that is completely void of bitterness regarding the rare medical condition he faces, but also in a way of being full of enough dedication and drive to constantly tackle fear head on. Fear that never stops coming! That's what it is.

Michael, if I am a good man, your sir, are an extraordinary man! I am truly honored to call you friend. The way you live your life, as well as all the other challenged athletes who continue to take on each new day with such zeal and absolute unwavering belief of continuing onward, is an exemplary way of how all people should live, disability or not.