Looking On the Wrong Side of the Road

It was gone. When I reached back for a water bottle, there was only an empty holder. Turned around and looked on the side of the road I had been riding on but no bottle. On with the ride; on to my turnaround, and back to finish my ride. I wasn't looking for that bottle anymore. My thoughts had drifted off to something else. 

There it was! Right on the edge of the pavement but on the opposite side of the road as to where I had been looking for it. I had been looking so intently at one side of the road, that I had rolled right by the waterbottle without seeing it. 

This was a familiar feeling. I have done this before, too often. While endurance sports teaches us to focus intently, sometimes we can roll right by what we might be looking for that is hiding in plain sight. I can think of relationships that needed attention while I rolled by oblivious. I can think of opportunities that I passed by and in doing so left gifts unopened. I don't know the answer. How do I train to focus, and yet be aware of the periphery at the same time? So, I just ask God for forgiveness for wasting it so, and seek Guidance and Enablement in the future to focus and search for what truly matters on both sides of the road.

Do I Dare?

Do I dare be confident? It is all going so well. Do I dare? The half marathon I ran a few days ago really went well, and I hit the time goal I had hoped for. My swimming is not any faster, but I am able to swim much father without getting fatigued. My bike training may be the best I have ever had. I have set PRs in events recently. I feel good with no real injuries. Do I dare?

More importantly, I feel at peace. This is hard to quantify. I just know that since that ride to the emergency room on Father's Day this year, when I thought it was my last ride on this earth; since then, peace has come easier. Reducing life to a few precious moments had a de-toxing effect. I hope this heightened awareness doesn't go away. Right now, I seem to spend a lot of time in a state of revel and thankfulness. Maybe life finally got real? Perhaps deep inside me, I finally got it that on this earth, everyone is simply experiencing a life on loan. Now more than ever I want to live deep, taking it all in; the big things, sure, but most especially the little things; like a granddaughter's smile, the beauty of the sunrise, the smell of fresh coffee in the morning, the patter of my running shoes, the hum of my bike tires, the soothing feeling of water warbling over the body, the intricacies of a flower, and the feeling of love in my heart for those I can't agree with. Do I dare be confident? Of course. "God has not given us the spirit of fear---." I have nothing to lose that I will not eventually lose anyway. All the things of earth will be stripped away and I will be back to the beginning: "In the beginning God -----." God not renewed my lease on this life on that Father's Day ride to the emergency room and each days calls me to renew that life I have been called to live. Yes, I cannot but dare.

Risk It Again?

One year ago today since I signed up for my ironman. A few weeks later: my ironman bust. Ironman Texas - so full of hopes, fears, and dreams; so excited it disturbed my sleep. That was an exciting time of my life; just great! And as exciting as that brief foray into ironman hope was, it was equally as disappointing when I had to withdraw. That was a tough hit to get up from. Now after one year of rehab, I wonder: Do I have the guts to risk it again. Do I want to go to my grave one day, having never lined up for an ironman? Gonna pray about this.

Trying to Prove Something

"Do you do this endurance sports stuff because you didn't play enough sports in childhood? Or, are you trying to show or prove something to yourself?" Clearly, I must have a problem here. Maybe I should seek psychiatric counseling for this endurance sports business. Maybe there is a name for my psychological malady like enduromanic or tricotic. Who knows? And this person wondering why I am trying to "find myself" in endurance sports, is 25 years younger than I, 40 lbs overweight, cannot run, takes blood pressure meds, and is a diabetic? Of course, I am crazy. I am spending my children's inheritance and my meager fixed income on stuff and events to ensure I can go out and hurt myself. Yeah, nuts. That's me. Must be trying to prove something. Could be I just want to be different. As the scripture says: "And be not conformed to this world but ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable, and acceptable will of God." Romans 12:2 I know of no better way to be renewed that to pour oneselve out in effort. Maybe that person was right. Yeah, I am trying to prove something.

Just Going a Little Deeper

It was the most contact during the swim that I have ever experienced in the forty triathlons I have done. Hope I didn't hurt anywone; certainly didn't mean to, but it was rough out there for a while. But, it was good too, and it fired me up for the rest of the swim and the rest of the race. About mid-point of the swim I found myself swimming alongside, and almost stroke for stroke with another swimmer. something made me think that this might be a good test for the effect of form on swimming pace. I did a quick inventory to find that I was pulling a little shallow. What would happen if went a little deeper with my pull. So, I did. My next breath and quick look showed me I had put about two feet on my tandem swimmer. And soon, he had dropped off and got in behind me for a draft. I wasn't turning over any faster; I was just going a little deeper. On the run-my worst event-I was getting passed frequently. And, I thought: I am going as hard as I can. I can't help it if I am getting passed. This is as fast as I can go. The swim lesson came to mind: go a little deeper, push yourself a little more, hurt a little more, you have more, go a little deeper. And, so I did. Before long I could hardly breathe but I held on; keep that cadence up; you are out there now, keep digging deeper. And I did. After the finish, I just walked off to the lakeside where I got my wind back and prayed a short prayer. I almost got up and walked off, but then I reached down and prayed longer and more thankfully; just going a little deeper.

Why I Tri - Rose City Triathlon II

Did my best but it wasn't enough last year. In fact, I set a personal record for this race last year and didn't place, even in the old folks age group. I love this stuff. It is so honest. In a couple days, God willing, I will again be in the half-light on Lake Tyler, awaiting the swim for my fourth try at this tri. There is a good chance we will have rain: nice. The first time I did this one it was pouring rain. Since then I have done a bit of rain-riding,

and feel better about my prospects should it be raining. I love this antsy feeling about going to this event. There is a a grin most of time on my face now, like I have some secret I am not telling anyone. The feeling is heightened by the fact that I had a great bike ride yesterday on a hilly course; hammered it, felt great. It is all working. Thank you God! Winning my age group this time? I doubt it. The competition in the geriatric age group is the best at this event; another reason I love this event. If I do place at this one, it will because I put down a great performance,not because I was the only old geezer there. Times like this with all the hopes and anticipation are a big reason as to why I tri. Again, thank you God.

Friendly is a Choice

Friendly is a choice. I made it. When I started using this bike route regularly, I noticed an occasional large tanker truck sharing the road with me. For some reason I decided that I was not going to get into the road rights thing here on this route with a large tanker truck. So I chose friendly. When the tanker truck came up behind me while I was climbing a hill, I didn’t make him risk a dangerous pass or chug, chug that big engine along behind my slow self. I got off the narrow road and let him go. He always honked thanks. Sometimes, I would come upon him pulling out onto the narrow road with all that truck and it was obvious he could not clear the road before I got there. Times like these, I slowed down or stopped to wait. He honked. Other times he just honked when we passed on the road.

A couple of days ago, I again let him get that big truck out on the road before I tried to get by. As we began to pass each going opposite directions, I waved. He creaked to a stop and I turned around to see what he wanted. He had an arm out the window. Surely, he is not giving me the bird? No, he had a bottle of water in his hand, holding it out to me. The afternoon was hot. I was very hot and the water in my bike bottles was more than lukewarm. This water he had was ice cold! Yes! I gushed my thanks to the driver, telling him I was going to put some this water on my head too. "If you are going to do that, do you want another one?" Seems like this driver had made the same choice that I had: biker and trucker, different goals, different purposes for being on the road, we had decided that as much as we are different, we are all the same. We are all just people trying to do what we do on the same roads. The roads are not mine; not his; they are ours. I told him thanks so much and left with an extra cold water, refreshed, and smiling. Friendly had made my bike ride that much better. I hoped I had made his day better too. Friendly had been a good choice.