Monday, May 21, 2018

Women on Bikes Series: Amie Topp

My name is Amie and I’ve been mountain biking for about 15 years now, but the first 5 years I don’t consider mountain biking. My boyfriend at the time told me, “Just sit on your seat and let the suspension do all the work.” I was falling over constantly, ramming into logs, and walking over even small obstacles.

Eventually, I took a mountain bike clinic and it changed everything.

I learned how to ride properly and even went to a downhill park in Colorado a few weeks later and road things I wouldn’t have touched before the clinic.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of coaching. I’m ICP level 2, and PMBIA level 1 certified and have been coaching for 4 years now. I coach for REI a few times a month and also coach at Sundance Mountain Bike Clinics and my husband and I have our own coaching company, Let it Roll Mountain Bike Clinics.

Tell us about the introduction to your #bikelife and why has it been beneficial for you?
I was introduced to cycling through my aunts and uncles who used to do road racing in the 90’s. I rode with them on a few group rides during a summer, then joined the swim team and did that instead. In my early 20’s I started running and decided I wanted to do triathlons, so I bought a road bike. I thought mountain biking looked like it would be fun, so a week later I bought a mountain bike and started riding trails.

Cycling has been beneficial to me in so many ways. The social aspect and camaraderie are the best parts for me. I believe having close friends and a good social life is key to a person’s happiness, and I certainly get that from my cycling friends. Secondly, I love road cycling and mountain biking equally but for opposite reasons. My mind wanders during a road ride so some of my best thinking and ideas are generated on my road bike. During a mountain bike ride, however, I can’t focus on anything but the trail in front of me, so it gives me a mental break from everything. Lastly, there are the obvious physical and health benefits.

The first few years of mountain biking for you were less than ideal, what kept you inspired to keep at it under the circumstance?
My first few years of mountain biking were less than ideal – compared to now. I was blissfully ignorant at the time and still enjoyed riding even though I had to get off my bike and walk over log piles. I didn’t know any different so, I just kept riding.

What pushed you to go to a mountain bike clinic? Do you remember what your most eye-opening lesson was?
My husband noticed on facebook that there was a women’s clinic and asked if I wanted to go. I happened to have the weekend off so I said, “Sure.” I remember being scared to death. I thought I would be the worst person there and that I wouldn’t be able to figure anything out. Even though it was a two-hour drive there, I wanted to turn around and go home. I didn’t think my husband would go for it so I didn’t say anything, I just swallowed my pride and went in. My most eye-opening lesson at the clinic was being told to stand up on my pedals and stay balanced over my bike. That simple advice enabled me to be able to roll over obstacles and descend steep hills.

For folks looking to attend their first skills clinic, do you have suggestions that may help them make the best choice for themselves?
I suggest that before people take their first clinic they should be able to stand up on their pedals when coasting and pedaling. Also, it is totally normal to be nervous at your first clinic!

What do you love most about mountain biking?
What I love most about MTB is the challenge. It’s an amazing feeling when I can say I successfully rode a difficult trail or feature, especially when it’s something I’ve had to work a while to get the hang of.

Clips or flats? What do you like best and why?
I ride both clips and flats and think they both have pros and cons. I clip in if I’m racing, the trail is not too technical, or if there is a lot of climbing. However, if the trail is technical, I’m absolutely in flats.

Have you had any biffs (crashes) that were challenging for you on a physical/mental/emotional level? What did you do to heal and overcome?
Before I knew how to ride correctly, I had one really bad crash. I had a concussion, was knocked unconscious, and was pretty scraped up. It wasn’t hard for me to get back on my bike, perhaps because I don’t remember the crash at all, I’m guessing from the concussion.

When you started out riding, what were some handling skills that challenged you? Do you have any suggestions for what helped you grasp them?
When I started riding my handling skills were absolutely horrible. I had to walk over practically everything, or just ram into it and hope I made it over. Taking my first clinic helped with that. I learned to stand up on my pedals and learned wheel lifts there also.

Are there still handling or technical riding aspects that you find tricky? How do you not let that drag you down when riding?
My current challenges are mental blocks. I can do a lot of skills in the grass, but when I add speed and try to apply it to the trails I get nervous and end up going way slower than I need to. I can’t lie, sometimes it does drag me down and it does get frustrating, especially when I’m in a group and get dropped. It’s best when I ride with people that aren’t incredibly faster than me, that way I’m not comparing myself to others.
What do you love about riding your bike (in general)?
I love so many things about riding. It’s a great social sport. Sometimes road cycling I talk to my riding partner the whole time. That’s not as easy mountain biking, so we just talk on breaks. The mountain bike community seems to be more social than the road cycling community, so I enjoy hanging out after rides with people. If I’m road riding alone I get some of my best thinking done, mountain biking I only think about riding, so it tends to clear my mind. It’s a great way to workout, stay in shape, and socialize.

Tell us about your bike(s), what they are like and why did you choose them?
I currently have a Trek Fuel for my Mtb. I’m not a diehard fan of any one brand, but things I couldn’t live without are my dual suspension and my dropper post. The rear suspension is so comfortable, I can’t stand riding hardtails. My dropper post has become essential. It’s so nice to be able to get my seat out of the way when doing anything technical. It’s to the point that if I want to fly somewhere to ride, and the bike shops don’t rent bikes with dropper posts, I’ll drive there instead so I can take my own bike.

What inspired you to become a certified mountain bike coach?
Initially, I wanted to become a coach because I knew people would love mountain biking more if they knew how to ride correctly. It made such a huge difference for me to just learn the basics. Then I realized I could teach much more than just the basics. I really enjoy teaching people intermediate skills: wheel lifts, pump tracks, cornering, etc.

For individuals interested in certification, can you explain the difference between IMBA and PMBIA and why one may prefer one over the other?
There are a few key differences between the ICP certification and the PMBIA. ICP teaches their instructors to teach in a controlled environment, like a grass field. PMBIA prefers to do all/most of their teaching on trails. ICP requires their instructors to use their specific language. They also emphasize keeping the amount of talking to a minimum. PMBIA is much more lax on the language that their instructors use, and don’t emphasize talking too much. I’m not saying that PMBIA lets their instructors ramble on, they just don’t focus on it as much. The ICP course requires the instructors to be able to detect errors in the participant’s skills. ICP will have fellow classmates go through and purposely make mistakes, and in order to pass, you have to recognize them; PMBI does not do this. I think the courses are both equal and I’m glad that I have taken them both. Taking both of them has made me a more well-rounded instructor, and I encourage anyone getting into instructing to take both courses.

What has been your most enjoyable moment as a mountain bike instructor?
My most enjoyable moment as a mountain bike instructor is actually several moments. People of both genders take my level one class and don’t even dream of getting their wheels off the ground. However, I like to add the “wow” factor to my level one classes and give them a teaser to level two classes, so I teach a basic front wheel lifts in my level one classes. I love dispelling the myth that to do wheel lifts you have to “just pull up.” That makes it practically impossible for many people to get their wheels off the ground. Most people can get their front wheel off the ground by the end of class, and are ecstatic. Seeing how proud and amazed the students are at their new talent makes wheel lifts my most enjoyable moment.

What do you feel deters women from getting involved with cycling? Especially mountain biking?
I feel that the biggest hindrance to females starting mountain biking is their fear of the trail. A lot of times my husband and I talk about our mountain biking classes when we are leading hikes or other activities for REI. The females usually respond that mountain biking is too dangerous, or they will not be able to control the bike. I try to convince them that taking a clinic will help with their balance skills, learn how to control their bike, and boost their overall confidence.

What do you feel could change industry-wise or locally to encourage more women to be involved?
I think that seeing other women riding mountain bikes could encourage more women to be involved. I believe that so many times women have the thought that only men can do certain maneuvers, like bunny hops or clearing table tops. When they see another woman do it they think, “Ok, if she can do it so can I.” Marketing to women seems to be helping as well since the biggest growth in the sport is females.

What inspires you to encourage women to ride?
I’m inspired to encourage women to ride because I know how much they are missing out on. I want them to know that it’s not just a man’s sport
and that you don’t have to go super-fast to have fun.

Tell us a random fact about yourself!
Random fact – My second favorite sport is kayaking!

Saturday, May 19, 2018

It's Not Fine.

I say it's fine. It's not. I have to swallow the pain and hurt each day...I want the band-aid effect. Rip that f*cker off. I can't. I don't get to. Life has to keep going, work has to happen, and I have sh*t to do.

This has been a challenging week. Not only with "adulting" stuff, but the fact that our cats are affected by the inconsistent schedule, new smells, and stress. There was literally a fight between Cordie and Phoebe that happened twice within a matter of minutes on Tuesday. All because I stepped on Cordie's paw. Damnit!!!!! (I think Tuesday) and it was straight out of a cartoon-  you have a literal rolling ball of cat. It was awful. I literally laid on the dining room floor, bawling my eyes out for a solid 10 minutes.

Now, Phoebe is having some possible bladder stress. An overnight stay at the vet clinic resulted in nothing. No irritation. No bacteria. But you can tell something is just not right.

Here's hoping that things calm down and she's not going back to the vet on Monday. It tears me up that she's having any discomfort. This is the last thing she needs. This is the last thing I need.

I'm having to live with high anxiety. Let's be honest here. I have f*cking anxiety. In general. I know it, and I've known it for awhile, and I've not been "officially" diagnosed...but cripes. I have days where I can deal with it better, but this is giving me a run for the money. Since the incident, my anxiety has been through the roof due to all of the unknowns. The waiting. The wondering if I'll f*ck something up. Now, there is a logging contract to worry about. Can I sell the property with the contract still in play or do I have to have the estate pay back over $8,000? I feel like I'm swimming in a tidal wave- and the reality is, I'm not a good swimmer.

Can we say a big F this? Can I just make this whole sh*tshow go away?

My dad's memorial service is coming up, and I just finished writing a poem and a reading. I don't think they are good. I'm afraid I will disappoint. Nothing I'm typing out is making me feel like I'm doing my dad justice. It hurts. I have expectations of my own that I do not feel I'm meeting. It makes me wonder why I'm even trying. I'm trying because I'm stubborn and damnit....he is MY DAD and this is the LEAST I can do.

The death of a loved one...you don't know what you're going to get. It's like a white elephant gift- maybe it'll be great or maybe it'll be crap.
I'm not at all saying my dad's life was crap- but I am seeing first hand some of his flaws. Flaws I believe he knew because he sheltered them from me. We are human, and as humans, we have flaws, and some of us hide them for a long time....and some of us choose to put blinders on and hope that maybe- just maybe- it will somehow not be the case.

I've learned so much about my dad in these past few weeks. It hurts that I'm gifted this knowledge of the man who is 1/2 of who I am. I've known that my dad was a good man (I hate saying was. It sucks.)
So many people have said so many nice and wonderful things. He was so well-liked, appreciated, and cared for by family and friends.
I've learned even further how damn talented he was- and I feel like I've always fallen short on the talent train. He and my mom can do SUCH amazing things...I mean, the man forged a f*cking knife!!! I come from talented parents, and when I step back, I feel like I have SO LITTLE to offer.

Then I hear how damn proud my dad was of me. How excited he was when I was getting married. How he talked about me all the time. I just...I can't. I can't even right now. Sometimes I wish I had asked more...asked more so I could know why. Why was he proud of me? Especially when I've felt for so long that I just don't measure up to how wonderful and talented my parents are.

Yes. I am hard on myself. Yes. I'm comparing.

I've had a couple okay days. Riddled with stress, but okay.
I've had some bike rides.
The first ride I saw a pair of geese.
Second ride I saw a female turkey.
Third ride I saw a doe.
Fourth ride I decided- I was ready to go fast. I didn't see an animal, but my heart was warmed to see Sweet William blossoming. My most favorite wildflower- the one I'd pick when dad would take me mushroom hunting.

Today I had two moments which touched my soul. A mountain biking friend who reached out to me, to see how I was, and then came back with a perfect pick me up. It warmed my heart and it's a great reminder.

The second, was my eye doctor's wife. She's going through an incredibly hard time and opened up to me a little on her hopes of being able to bike more. I feel for emotional and mental sanity and health. I totally got it. I'm in that spot. I'm not caring for someone who is ailing health-wise like she is, but the pain, stress, and sorrow are still very real- mine just happened abruptly and before it should've. Her's is long. I could see tears in her eyes. I told her I understood- how cycling can be so good for personal well-being. I'm in that same boat. I mentioned my loss. I hate talking about it. I'm so sorry that she has to deal with what she's dealing with. How bad things happen to good people. Whatever plan our lives sign on for...sometimes those plans suck. That's all I can say.

Besides accepting that my well-thought and super planned year has experienced great upheaval, I know that I will get through all of the crap at some point. I'm grateful for the family and friends I have, who have been amazing- open- welcoming- and helpful.

Until then, I'll get in what rides I can.
I'll try to accept stress with grace.
I know I was loved.
I know I am loved.
At some point, I'll genuinely be able to feel happy again.

I take comfort in the fact I am my father's daughter. Even tho he had his own set of issues, he still did his best to be a good human. He showed up. He lived. He did the best he could each day, regardless of what that "best" was. 

I'm going to give my best, too. Whatever my best ends up being.

Friday, May 11, 2018

The First Ride.

Full disclosure, I'm using more candid words in my writings pertaining to this because it's really the only way I feel I can get out the intensity of my emotions. Unbeknownst to many, I do like to throw out cuss words here and there. Once things feel more...normal...(dare I say normal?) I'll get back to more eloquent ways of speech. Until then. I'm raw. A'thankyou.

Thursday morning came and I was lying in bed, frustrated because I had gone to bed tired but didn't sleep for sh*t. I wanted to roll over, be a human burrito, and stay in bed. Damnit. I couldn't. It seemed pointless.

I've had grief before but I feel not to this degree. My first cat passed away young, and I remember coming home from school with the hope that she made it through the day. To find she hadn't. My heart was broken and felt life wasn't fair because her brother was strong and healthy. 



My grandma Gert's passing left a hole in my heart as it was unexpected- however she was 91 when she passed, so had a good life. She was the grandma I felt closest to- telling me tales of the "old days" while we laid in bed. Our trips to town to get groceries. Sneaking romance books out from under the couch to read before she did (which was a no-no, but I was a rebel.)
My other grandparents who passed and two of my aunts- those were more or less expected. Old age and cancer...they hurt, but they didn't cut into the soul quite like this. 

It feels like a paper cut on my heart each day.
My eyes feel heavy. I feel so...damn...tired.
I was told I'd feel tired, but didn't register that I would literally BE tired.

I am grateful I have family that live close, who I can ask to assist, but I feel guilty as hell for it. 

There is so much waiting. Waiting for papers, waiting for answers- and I want to get things done and I simply can't. Then you have the bitter reality that even if you want to get things done- there are things you can't do until you get an official paper. That awful paper stating you are the estate person. You are it. You are everything. You. You. You. Damnit...I don't want to be "it" and I shouldn't be in this position.

After I got up from bed, I knew I should go for a bike ride. There was rain in the forecast and I'd be losing out on an opportunity to have some peace and quiet. Be away from the computer- be away from the pile of papers- and be away from obligation.

I told myself that Dad would want me to go for a ride. Oh fine. I'll go. Sigh....

I dressed up and rolled out on Stephen McNasty. I need to ride this bike so I don't cry. I rode this bike home the day I got the news. This bike is in honor of my dad and I can't cry every time I ride it.

Before I rolled down onto the IPT trail, I saw two geese on the side of the road. What the heck are you doing? I thought. I figured I'd look up what a goose meant for a totem animal, not that I considered this a totem animal- but it was an odd sighting and I figured I should look.

Riding was good up until I rolled though the top of North 40 and smelled the white flowers of the plum trees. The scent wafted in the air and it made me think of home. The birds were singing, squirrels were daring to beat me down the trail, and I could think of nothing other than "My dad would love this..."

However, riding with tear-filled eyes is a hazard and the last thing anyone needed was me calling up to say "Haaaay, I broke my arm/leg/collar bone because I was mountain biking while crying."
I made it up to the Pines and again, emotions ran high, same with Little Big Horn.
I was frustrated because I wanted some sort of sign. I wanted to feel that my dad was there with me. Instead, I still feel that numb ache and sense of emptiness. Among all of the beautiful things I was immersed in- the flowers, trees, and critters...I felt resentment that I would never get to tell my dad about my next race. He wouldn't get to see his namesake bike in full glory. So many other moments yet to come, that will never be shared with him in human form. I have to accept everything as "spiritual." I will, eventually, harbor no resentment towards that idea.

"Well, Dad. I guess it's good that you were fine with a spiritual mindset, because I'm going to be talking to you a hell of a lot."

The trails were a little greasy that morning, but I was climbing up everything, and I figured that considering- maybe something was happening. You know, like someone looking out for me...or I just wasn't riding with emotion, which eliminates crashing. I'll pretend it was the first.

I was glad I went out, but at the same time it was painful. Something that I enjoy so much, that can bring me so close to my dad in spirit, hurts right now. More I think it's just the concept that I lost him in a shocking way.

When I was home I looked back through some stuff that we had collected and found a wedding band. I asked my mom via messenger, if it was the band he wore when he was married to her. She said it was. Thank goodness. My dad was married once before, and I didn't want to keep something that was from that time period. I hoped that the band was from my dad's marriage to my mom, because that's how I'm here today (sparklesparkle) and it could be a source of comfort for the time being. For being 5'5" and not large-boned, his hands were so strong. I can fit almost my ring and pinkie finger in the ring- ha! 

With processing through the grief, I've been going back and forth on feeling whether or not my feelings are justified. How justified is the pain? How can I feel so sad when I know other folks lose people they love? Someone out there has it worse than I do...how can I grieve when I know that?

I conversed with Travis about it. I conversed with my aunt about it. I think it ultimately came out to "Yes, of course you are allowed to feel this way." and the fact that this was unexpected vs. expected. That I'm being too hard on myself. Also, the unrelenting feeling of how unfair this whole situation is because my dad fought so hard to lead an active life. He spent years recovering from his motorcycle accident- from hip replacements to healing broken bones, to then dealing with arthritis. (In general and some from the broken bones, etc.)

In my opinion, he lead life by example- how to be a decent human being. Respectful, kind, and fair. He had his days of complaining about how things hurt, how things sucked during the healing process, but he NEVER gave up. He still went to WORK when he could've gone on disability. He found ways to be active, he found ways to be more comfortable (like getting a Kubota tractor instead of riding the 4-wheeler.

For as simple of a man he was, for how humbly he lived....my dad did some amazing sh*t and lived through some really hard sh*t. He had perseverance and determination.

SO....this brings me to a finale of this emotional pour of feels for the day.

I hate how the event was made so damn public. I guess it had to be...but I hate it. I hate that I am the daughter of a man who was killed by a f*cking tree. I guess all I can do is think that it could be worse.

Here it goes. It's going to be a bit rough, and I apologize for those of you who have not seen this side of my personality.

The Allamakee Sheriff's Dept. had posted the event on Facebook. One person made a comment about how someone should refrain from doing "dangerous things."

Okay, sir. My dad has cut trees down for f'ing years. Screw you. I'm typically a nice person, but you can take your public opinion and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.

My dad knew how to cut a damn tree down, and this time, for whatever reason, something decided that it should go this way instead of that. Thank you for your stunning conclusion that cutting trees can be considered "dangerous." You should get a medal for being an inconsiderate ass. 

Sorry for the language, Dad. 

Now, onto something more positive.

Summary of Symbolic Meaning of the Goose
Bravery
Loyalty
Teamwork
Confidence
Protection
Fellowship
Communication
Determination

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Whatever It Takes

Mountain biking and writing. These are the two things are my therapy when things get tough- and things got tough real fast. Josie's Bike Life will be my place for sharing more on how I'm going to use mountain biking or biking in general, to get me through this difficult time.

Sunday, May 6th 2018...my life changed.

I'm talking about having your world turned upside down in a span of few seconds. Family members walk into your workplace and you instantly know that something is up. 


It's how the barriers break down in .01 seconds because they can't hold it in.

It's listening to yourself from outside your body, letting out a cry from the depths that indicates a broken heart...a shattered soul. You just lost part of yourself. 1/2 of you. Everything rushes in like a tidal wave and you can't. You just CAN'T. You can't stop crying, you can't stop wailing, and you can't stop clinging to your family. You are downing emotionally and mentally, with nothing else to hold on to. You feel like you're going to slip.

What. Why. How. 

WHY.

Because it's been on the news, anyone can find out. My dad had a tree cutting accident. He was on the low side and could've been on any other side and likely not have had an issue. For whatever reason, he chose the low side, made two cuts, and with the second cut- the f*cking tree basically blew up. My dad likely was knocked out by something, and part of the tree landed on his chest, crushing him.

I have never been so mad at a tree in my life.

Sunday I went back and forth trying to figure out my emotions over if I was mad at my dad or not. He was an outdoorsman. This wasn't his first rodeo cutting trees. He knew sh*t. He was resourceful. Strong. Smart. The situation could have gone completely differently if he had been on a high side and had not been so damn concerned over the crappy shed he didn't want the tree to fall onto.

It's not his fault.
I've heard it several times. "When it's time, it's time."
Maybe this was the way to go. Maybe this was the least painful way possible.
My dad had Type 1 Diabetes. He had at least 3 bouts of pneumonia this past winter. This winter was hard on him....I know it. I didn't really "know" tho. I didn't understand as to how hard it was on him. I was in denial. It's my dad. He has a mission in life. He's going to live forever. I knew he wouldn't, but I certainly wasn't expecting to lose him before his 66th birthday. Hell, I almost lost him in 2005 due to a motorcycle accident. He survived and recovered...it gave me a false sense of "nothing can take this man down."

What I miss right now:
How his strong hands could rub my back so gently. Especially during hugs. He had a way of making something so simple feel so soothing.
How he rubbed my feet when I was a kid. Every Wednesday and Friday I'd pop my feet up on his lap and ask for my foot rubs. They grounded me.
How he pronounced my name with a hard "C" instead of a "Z".
His "Weelllll, I suppose...." even tho it meant the start of "goodbye."
How I got him to say "I love you" to me after phone calls and visits.

I know there is more, but those are the things right now.

Everything else:
I don't know if I can handle the thought of the holidays....and the fact I won't be baking DAD his diabetic-friendly apple pie.
I know he was proud of my new race bike being named after him. I'm changing the whole "Stefan" concept and simply going with Stephen...folks his name isn't StephEN...it's StEphen. So StEphen McNasty.....will be ridden in my dad's honor at Chequamegon. An event which I now have no expectation of how I'll do- because shit got real.
I've gone from hyper-emotional to numb in a matter of days.
I know he'll be with me, but I can't "feel" it yet.
I miss him so much.
I'll miss how excited he'd get when he talked about his projects.
I'll miss how happy he was to share with me how he told "so-and-so at work how proud he was of me or what I had done recently, or the article in Inspire(d) magazine that I was in, or the IPT segment. Hearing him PROUD of me when for so many years I thought I fell short. 

A respected, soft-spoken, kind, and talented man....who had a gift for rambling and story-telling. I felt I didn't get much from him in terms of traits, but I think I got more than what I realized. He would get an idea in his head and apparently if something bugged him he had to follow through to get that monkey off his back. I see the tree as a monkey. He probably had it nagging in the back of his head. I get that....I totally do.

I was fully prepared for my scheduled life....and for someone with a type-A personality who loves having things scheduled out and on point....my whole world was given a giant dump. Emotional and mental dump. I'm exhausted. I know my family is also exhausted. A father was lost, but so was a brother...a brother in a close-knit family. 

Life is on standby right now in terms of leading rides for Fearless Women of Dirt. I've done one of the hardest things I've ever done- and that is take away my pre-set schedule and open the doors wide open for space and processing.

My world is rocked. I'm a very emotionally driven person- and this is going to take awhile. I have finally had one day where I haven't cried. (Compared to crying so much of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.) I feel vulnerable at work. I really want to hide sometimes- but I also appreciate not being at home and wallowing. I know it's not over yet. Bits and pieces are falling into place.

Currently, this is my mantra:
Imagine Dragons

Falling too fast to prepare for this
Tripping in the world could be dangerous
Everybody circling, it's vulturous
Negative, nepotist
Everybody waiting for the fall of man
Everybody praying for the end of times
Everybody hoping they could be the one
I was born to run, I was born for this
Whip, whip
Run me like a racehorse
Pull me like a ripcord
Break me down and build me up
I wanna be the slip, slip
Word upon your lip, lip
Letter that you rip, rip
Break me down and build me up
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do whatever it takes
'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains
Whatever it takes
You take me to the top I'm ready for
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do what it takes
Always had a fear of being typical
Looking at my body feeling miserable
Always hanging on to the visual
I wanna be invisible
Looking at my years like a martyrdom
Everybody needs to be a part of 'em
Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son
I was born to run, I was born for this
Whip, whip
Run me like a racehorse
Pull me like a ripcord
Break me down and build me up
I wanna be the slip, slip
Word upon your lip, lip
Letter that you rip, rip
Break me down and build me up
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do whatever it takes
'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains
Whatever it takes
You take me to the top, I'm ready for
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do what it takes
Hypocritical, egotistical
Don't wanna be the parenthetical, hypothetical
Working onto something that I'm proud of, out of the box
An epoxy to the world and the vision we've lost
I'm an apostrophe
I'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see
I'm just a product of the system, a catastrophe
And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half-diseased
And when I am deceased
At least I go down to the grave and die happily
Leave the body and my soul to be a part of thee
I do what it takes
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do whatever it takes
'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains
Whatever it takes
You take me to the top, I'm ready for
Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do what it takes