Blocking the Wind

This is an excerpt from my latest book, Practicing Faith

One breezy February morning in 2018 I rode in a cycling club 100K fun ride, the furthest I’d even thought about riding for two years. Following my double knee replacement about eight months prior, I’d been making incremental increases up the distance ladder. That approach made good sense physically and helped me avoid injury, but it did little to energize my thinking. I expected this ride to open my mind as well as give my knees a substantial test.

Unfortunately, I made the rookie mistake of starting out too fast and trying to hang with the lead group longer than I should have. But I did that on purpose since most of my rides are alone; I seldom get a sense of how much more energy I should invest when I’m riding by myself. I knew I couldn’t stay with the lead pace all day, but I pushed hard to stay with them if I could.

The good news from the ride was my knees felt great. They weren’t the limiting factor for the day. What slowed me down were my lungs. I couldn’t ride the pace with the rest of the group and still breathe.

In truth, with full disclosure, I didn’t complete the entire 100K. I was tired and defeated at the two-hour mark, which was also when the ride director suggested everyone turn around and head back home, so I uncharacteristically followed instructions and turned around.

Riding back toward Midland was much harder than riding away. I fought against the strong southeast wind blowing against my right shoulder for miles, getting slower and slower, until another rider rode up beside me. Jeff is about eight feet tall and creates a formidable wind break. He maneuvered to the right-hand side of the road, between me and the wind, and motioned for me to tuck into his draft. He pulled me for the next ten miles and would not let me fall off the pace. In fact, whenever I started to fade, he slowed down to catch me and bring me back to speed.

By the time I finished the day I had fifty-eight miles, four miles shy of a 100K. I wasn’t disappointed; this was a significant jump in distance for me, and I was happy to finish on my own two wheels. I accomplished all my objectives of the day: my knees felt great, and while my legs were shot, I could still stand up and walk around.

As I loaded my bike into the pickup bed, I heard the other guys talk about their Sunday morning plan. The next morning, they were riding to Kermit and back, about 140 miles round trip. It was a bit overwhelming to hear, knowing I was done for the weekend, but it gave me a better picture of what’s possible. I couldn’t do what they planned to do at the time, but someday.

There is a hardness that comes only from extended time in the saddle. I don’t mean butt or quad hardness but mental hardness. And it doesn’t come any other way except from riding long distances on a regular basis and letting other riders pull you up to speed.

It’s also true for running, backpacking, and even yoga. My wife Cyndi can do back-to-back, day-long workshops, at a master level, when I can barely last through a one-hour class. She’s put in the extended time on her mat. She’s toughened up. And she’s let other people pull her up.

While my regular twenty-mile rides meet the need for cardiovascular exercise and weight management, they do little to inspire me. I learned in my old pre-knee-surgery life that it was the long training runs of two hours or more that reshaped my thoughts and opened my mind. I had to run far enough to find the meditation point. Now that I’m cycling, I must ride far enough.

The Bible says, “When troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow” (James 1:2–3 NLT). We cannot grow without trouble, and we will not grow without perseverance. The good news is, we don’t have to endure on our own. We don’t have to fight the headwinds by ourselves. We can draft behind those who are stronger and let them pull us. We can borrow faith from each other when life gets hard. Pull up close and let your brother or sister block the wind.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32