The Pull of The Road: What Bike Out Hunger 2011 taught me

May 18th, 2011 at 11:53 am

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If I could live my life without fear of failure I might do unthinkable things. I would quite possibly purchase a road bike and at the same time commit to ride it across Texas with strangers. It never occured to me that I couldn’t . . . or wouldn’t.

What I found on the Texas, windy roads amidst towering pines and and lush fields were deeply spiritual expressions and experiences that caused me to close my eyes and inhale the sweet air of life again and again.  ( I did keep my eyes open while riding!)

On Monday, 36 cyclists began the ride leaving from the Beaumont hotel where we congreaged the day prior. My energies were fueled by adereniline and I was eager to accomplish the nearly 66 mile ride to Woodville, Texas because I am confident in my ability to ride that distance.  It was comfortable and familiar.

“I am strong,” I tell myself.

The unexpected facinates me.  There is no way to prepare yourself for it.  One moment instantaniously happens, oy, the unexpected is saying, “howdy.” Less than a minute into the ride, I was kissing pavement.  The first stop light I came to, I fell. in. front. of. everybody.

Falls are inevitable on the bike as well as in life. Falling is perfectly fabulous.  Fall often… it’s alright.

I never scolded my toddling infants for falling down, and they rarely stayed down after a blunder.

I don’t recall them sulking with disappointment because they crashed, and they never swore off running or walking due to a collision with the floor.  They were most eager, even in pain, to return upright and move on.  Perfection and mastery are attained by failure.

Falling may or may not be my fault, but only I can decide to get back up. When I experience that downward sensation, I know, there is grace and humility to stand, and as I do.

I am somehow a different rider. I am bruised, more cautious, humbled and more aware of those around me.

Humility creates an awareness in me that looks compassionately at other people.  It gives me a place to relate to others who have similar shared experiences. It becomes an opportunity.  I will not be defined by falling, but as one who learns from falls. As a dear friend says, “fall forward.”

With my new scrapes and bruises, I do what I have been training to do:  I ride on.

Written by Charity Stephens – an active, energetic mom who lives in Hewitt with her husband Donald and her three children.