My Peter Mooney owes its existence to my TBI. I knew that when I re-entered the "real" world after a final season in the protected world of bike racing, that the next few years were going to be crazy. The Mooney was conceived of as a tool to maintain my sanity. I went on many crazy rides but it worked.
I was very aware that institutions and death were not far off. To keep them at bay, I smoked pot and rode my bikes. Worked. But I never want to go through the years of 1978-1984 again. I pray that I do not live if I suffer a TBI (or other event of that magnitude) again. I wish Catlin had benefited from the words of my dear friend (who went through a life-threatening injury of her own in HS). She told me a) that the next 7 years were going to be unbelievably hard, b) that friends and family would not understand and be of close to zero support for me and c) that she knew I was going to make it. I went back to those words many times. And I am eternally grateful for them. Some of you have seen me talk here of "the crazy years". Not an exaggeration.
Ben