Any Similar Revival

Sad news. Tom Davenport, in whose honor I am riding for Team in Training, passed away on Sunday from leukemia. So now, I am going to be riding in his memory instead. Please pray for Amy, his daughter, and his wife, Mary, and his other family and friends.  I’ve been thinking a lot about when my Mum died–the ninth anniversary just passed, and Tom had the same kind of cancer she had. This is something I emailed to Angie, my friend and Amy’s.

"When my mom was dying, she was so drugged on morphine that we didn’t get to talk to her very much. She had been on the respirator for a week in the ICU, so there was a week and a half before she died that we couldn’t communicate with her, and I really wish we could have done for her what you guys did for Tom. I prayed for Tom, Amy, her mom–everyone touched by this, yesterday on my bike ride. It seemed silly to be riding at all, knowing that people are dying, and what good does a bike ride do? Then I realized that it puts me out by myself for hours at a time with nothing to distract me from prayer, so yesterday, I prayed like crazy. Right after my mom died, I felt this huge cushion of her love surrounding me for weeks–like it was her last gift to me, and it shielded me in a way from all of the crazy-grief that I was afraid of. Because when we knew she was going to die, I was terrified of the grief itself, I was afraid that it would consume me, that I would never again be whole and myself. I wanted to be years away from the experience. I kept saying, "I want it to be two years from now." I needed that sense of distance because I didn’t want to be there in all that pain. So I’m praying for Amy that she gets the cushion of her father’s love, too. And that these last days together are the most joyful, wonderful, meaningful days they’ve ever had."

I just wanted to share what has been on my mind lately. Thanks for all of your kind comments about my 100 mile ride on Saturday!

I did NOT want to ride my bike today; I put it off forever! But I have a huge 108 mile ride looming over me on Saturday, and I want to at least be able to say, as they cart me off on a stretcher, that I DID ride this week. So I went, and I realized something very important and fairly obvious: I have been letting my rides become a burden, just another bothersome task to accomplish. And that’s not why I ride. I ride, or at least I started riding, because it was, um, well, fun. And lately, my rides haven’t been so fun. So today I let myself off the hook. No planned route. No projected speed. And I could stop when and where I wanted. Just let the road take me and see what happens. This strategy worked beautifully. I had a GREAT ride, on a beautiful day, on gorgeous roads, under blue skies (at least until the end). My serendipitous path led me onto a road that myseriously turned into gravel as soon as I was in the middle of nowhere. Now, I do live in Medina County, but the only other road I know of that does this is Angie’s, who lives in the boonies. (Hi Angie!) So I wasn’t too surprised, but I did call Chad to have him look up my location and tell me how long the gravel would last (only about 1/2 a mile).

A little while later, I spied the Chatham General Store. Now, I have ridden past this store on countless rides, and I always think, "Boy, it would be fun to stop!" But anxious to get back as fast as possible, I never have. Today, I stopped. I marched in, bought myself a moonpie, used the bathroom (oh sweet bliss!), and plunked myself outside on the porch to daintily inhale my moonpie. I haven’t had a moonpie in YEARS, and it was sooo good, and I rationalized it by saying that I’d burn off the 300 calories on the way back anyhow.

So here is the MOST flattering cyclying photo of me EVAH:

And no, that is not a sunburn. That is just the color I turn when I’m hot. Heidi calls it our "peasant blood" coming out. I really do look happy about that moon pie!

Yesterday, I found out some bad news about both of my honorees, the people in whose honor I am riding for Team in Training. Tom, my friend Amy’s dad, has been given just a few weeks to live–the last round of chemo didn’t work. And Mary Beth’s chronic leukemia is no longer in remission. Today marks the 9-year (NINE YEARS???!!) anniversary of my mom’s death from leukemia. And I just hate it! I was supposed to ride with the team this morning, but since Chad is preaching today and his parents are in town, I decided to skip it and go to church instead. I will be riding later today on my own, and when I get tired and sore and cranky, I’m going to think about Tom, Mary Beth, and Robin. And I’ll keep pedalling.