I've been reading, watching, and listening to anything about Robins life and work this past week. When I heard he lost the battle, I cried harder than my reaction to people I've personally have known that have passed.
I've never met him. But he felt like a uncle that entered life at the right moment. Our generation grew up with him. He was always apart of the family but never the center of attention in our own singular lives.
I keep tearing up, even as I write this, days later because of his tangible heart for humanity. (Google Conan bike story) He gave the world so much laughter. There are not many humans where you can almost feel their heartbeat and are magnetized to their energy.
During this week I learned that he loved to cycle. That he fought anxiety and depression out on the saddle. Finding this fact out mirrored my own story, as I needed to find my next athletic pursuit.
He was an avid bike collector, and he had great friendships within the biking community. He loved everything about the bike culture, except he always made jokes about all the spandex with his hairy body.
He said this when interviewed,
"My favorite thing to do is ride a bicycle. I ride road bikes. And for me, it's mobile meditation,"..."biking is the closest you can get to flying."
He was a great supporter of the bike world, challenges athletes, the list goes on and on. This article shares more about his devotion to the athletic community. I love that he bridges the two worlds. Much more could be said, and it already has been said all over the internet. One thing is for certain, he integrated into the depth of the human spirit, and there he will remain.