Life is Like Riding a Bicycle

The summer of 2014 found me in a low period of discouragement. One day I noticed an injured butterfly in my yard, and took the beautiful creature into the house to help her recuperate. Caring for her allowed me to climb out of my own fears and doubts. I believe that God sent a butterfly into my life so I would quit focusing on my own pain and see life through a different lens. Sometimes we need a tiny nudge to take the focus off ourselves. I have learned several key lessons from the saddle of my bike. I have realized that pain is temporary and the key to blocking out pain is to focus on something other than yourself. I learned that when I am in rhythm with my bike, I am more fluid in life. My bike is an extension of me, since I use my energy to make it move up and over steep hills that I want to conquer. The spirit of the road has taught me how to overcome adversity. When we are living in balance, life can taste like a breath of fresh air. In the fall of 2014, I was invited to participate in an epic cycling adventure, scheduled for June 2015 in the Colorado Rockies. When I agreed to participate, I did not realize how much climbing I would be doing daily. … While cycling up the mountain passes that week, there were times when I wanted to give in to the pain. My mind and body wanted me to stop and rest, but my goal was to make each mountain pass without stopping. After my first mountain climb to the top of Independence Pass/Continental Divide at 12,095 feet, I was beginning to have doubts about the third day. With 7,800 feet of climbing, it would be my hardest. I texted my wife and told her I was worried about riding up to Monarch Pass/Continental Divide which is at 11,313 feet. She texted me back and told me that I would do fine and added… “remember you love to climb.” I smiled and told her, you’re right! Her words were exactly what I needed to hear. It was a good reminder for me. I knew in my heart that I would do well, and the heart is where our energy is to get us through the next step. At our team meeting the night before ascending Monarch Pass, we were told it was a 40-mile ride to reach the top. As I rode up Monarch Pass, I was searching for the top of the mountain to get an idea of how much further I needed to go. But when my odometer hit 40 miles, I could not even see the top. How much further did I need to hang on? I’d been so focused on 40 miles that it seemed like my body was done at that point, because of what I had set in my mind. Have you ever thought you’d almost reached a goal, and then realized you still had more work ahead than you anticipated? That kind of disappointment can set you back if you let it. The road tilted up higher and higher as I turned on each switchback. I felt like my heart could leap from my chest from beating so fast. I focused on my breathing so I could manage my heart rate. As the climb steepened, I gripped my handlebars tighter to help me with the push and pull of my pedal stroke…