The Climb

     My friend Steven gave me a bike the other day.  The generosity of it completely overwhelmed me.  I haven't ridden in two years and to be honest, the idea of being on a bike again scared me a little.  I'll admit I still have some lingering emotional pain from the experience of having a car smash into my body and turn my life and my dreams upside down.  My injuries have long since healed.  But, there's always more than just the physical toll from traumatic experiences that you have to deal with.
      I can't believe it's been two years since I stopped riding.  Considering how much I lived and breathed cycling, going from that level of commitment to nothing was an abrupt and brutal change in direction.  What I've learned along the way is that everything in life is fleeting, you can wake up one day and without warning it's gone.  To be honest, my life has moved on since that fateful day.  I don't really have time to ride much now even if I wanted to.  I am busy with teaching, coaching, writing and raising my two girls.  On top of that, my wife works 60 hrs a week so there is little time for myself to go out and ride.   And so, for a week the bike just sat in my garage taunting me.
     When I finally had a small window of opportunity to ride - my wife had my youngest daughter and my eldest was off at school - I decided it was time to get back on the bike and take some time for myself.  I would go over to my old stomping grounds and ride up Double Peak in San Marcos.  I used to ride up it several times a week for training back in my racing days.  It would be different now though, I was on a mountain bike and I would be exploring the north side trails that wound their way up the mountain.
      I felt a little bit of a fool when I got out there.  Steven had given me an awesome full suspension Specialized mountain bike.  I hadn't had time to get any cycling gear though.  So I was dressed in a T-shirt, gym shorts and tennis shoes.  Deep down though, I guess I didn't care.  I was about to ride for the first time in forever.  What I was wearing seemed like an insignificant detail compared with being able to ride again.
      The first few pedal strokes felt electric.  That feeling of gliding along brought bike that familiar rush.  It's true what they say about riding a bike.  Despite the time away, it felt like I had never stopped.  As I began to climb, I felt my heart rate rise and my legs begin to burn.  I couldn't help smiling to myself though.  I had spent so many years training myself to embrace pain and to learn that suffering was good that feeling the sensation again made me feel alive.  I guess I hadn't realized how much I had been slowly dying all those long months when I was off the bike.  
      As I climbed I thought back to all that I had gone through.  I remembered the crushing pain and the bitter lows following my accident.  There was the financial difficulty and the feeling of uselessness when I couldn't work and I couldn't take care of my own infant daughter or drive myself anywhere.  Then I thought of someone I know who has spent their entire adult life in a wheelchair.  That was so close to being me.  Here I was back on a bike and powering my way steadily uphill.
     The truth of the matter is, life can crush you one moment and lift you up the next.  I can't tell you how often I have felt completely overwhelmed and wanted to just curl up into a ball on my bed and hide under the covers.  Those times when it feels like a hundred pounds just sitting in the pit of your stomach make it really difficult to function normally. When things are at their most difficult, I usually start talking to myself.  I tell myself, take a deep breath and ignore what you are feeling.  Keep going, keep pushing.  This moment will pass.  When you look back years from now, you will hardly remember what you were feeling right now, but the progress you made along the way will mean something to you.   
       As I drew closer to the top, the trail steepened and I had to dig deep with everything I had.  The work was familiar, but my body lacked the fitness it once had.  I could hear the blood pounding in my ears as my heart struggled to keep up with the demand from my legs.  My breath was heavy in my chest as I drew in deep focused breaths.  With each pedal stroke I rose ever skyward, carried by the breath in my lungs and the power in my legs.  I felt alive again - like I had rediscovered a part of me that had been missing.  Maybe the truth is that difficulty isn't just something to overcome, it's what defines us and makes us feel alive.   

This is a poster of one of the athletes that I coach - Bryan Larsen.  Words to live by indeed.  

Resolutions

    It's January again - a time to reflect on the year that's past and to consider what we want for the year ahead.  When I look back, all the days seem to blur together.  They were each filled with similar details.  Go to work.  Run errands.  Eat. Go to sleep.  There were good moments and bad ones.  So, when I look forward, I wonder how this year might be different.  How to live more in the moment?  How is it possible to pursue the things you want and also get the most out of life?  Is this an impossible balance?  Who knows.  I like a good challenge though.
     A lot has changed in my life since I first sat down and started writing.  My neck has healed.  I started coaching.  I bought a house.  I made new friends.  At the moment I find myself sitting here listening to music, drinking Bourbon and writing.  It's 3 in the morning and I'm feeling slightly buzzed and high on music (Avicii - Levels).  There also an odd twinge of wistfulness mixed in - probably due to the fact that I am sitting here by myself - which I suppose appeals to my melancholy nature.  I got a lot of work done in the past several hours.  I worked on my book (so many pages of writing!), I did work on some of the training schedules for my athletes, replied to emails.  All in all I am feeling quite good at the moment.  I suppose this is my way of living in the moment - drinking and writing and listening to music.  

     Years from now perhaps I'll look back and read this and think about what I was feeling.  This is a night similar to the first time I sat down and started writing nearly two years ago.  Things were a lot different then.  I had a broken neck and I had no idea of what direction to go in or what to do with my life.  In a late night moment of clarity, I decided that I had to do something, anything, and start moving forward - even if I had no idea what I was doing.  I suppose I've always had an idea of the value of forward progress.  But, that was when it crystalized into a philosophy of always moving forward.  Of course, the blog title Alwaysforward was already taken.  Oh well.  It sounds better in Latin anyway.  Semper Porro.
     I don't really subscribe to the notion of having New Years resolutions.  Probably because every day I am resolved to make the day better than the day before.  Push forward.  Take each moment as it comes.  Enjoy it.   Sometimes I suppose the days blur together.  But, it's a good blur.  All in all it's a philosophy that has served me well.  These past two years since I started writing this blog have been very full.  If I had to go back and do it again I wouldn't change a thing.  I guess if anything my resolution for this new year is to keep living life the same way I have been.  Who knows what 2014 will bring.  But, I've got a good feeling about it.