Pain is inevitable…

Last night was a perfect evening for a leisurely bike ride in central Ohio.  I saw a number of folks out doing just that.  Very cool.  I love Spring and the return of the evening walk, the evening ride, the evening on the porch, and the like.

Last night, however, was Tuesday.  Tuesday night at 6 bells sharp, another type of ride departs Delaware.  The group is aptly named, “A World of Pain.”  These cyclists meander out of town at a leisurely pace until they’ve cleared the city limits.  Then one of the young ones, “lights the candle.”  I grab a wheel and try to find a breathing rhythm.  Easier said then done, when somebody’s pulling at 25 into the northeast breeze.

Last night was REAL, HARD, WORK. AND, a ton of fun.

Heading into Prospect the group had splintered into two guys off the front, fifteen guys dropped and left for dead, and two groups struggling to reel in the two guys at the front.  I was in the first group of three and was working with Mark and Jeff to “bridge up.”  Love all these terms, don’t you?

We were close enough to read the lettering on the back of their jersey’s and yet the gap remained.  Mark was doing most of the work at the front and Jeff was “cooked” and holding onto my wheel for dear life.  As Mark’s elbow flared (that’s the signal that it’s your turn), I took a deep breath and went round his wheel and felt the wall of wind hit my face directly.  I mashed on the pedals and my breathing immediately skyrocketed.  I could see his wheels overlapping mine as we fought the quartering wind as best we could.  We were now within ten yards of John and Brian (young legs still in their 30’s), and my body told me it had had enough.  I started to concede and just as suddenly my mind flashed to my friend, Larry and to how much he loved riding with these guys.  Larry’s been gone a year this coming May.

He’s gone.  He’s far from forgotten.

A sudden burst came over me and I stomped down even harder.  My heart screamed, my sides burned, my hips felt like someone had lit ’em up, and my left calf started to tingle.  Thirty seconds later, we were in their draft and just as suddenly, my breathing and everything else that hurt began it’s return to normal.  Mark pulled up alongside and told me, “good work.”

I smiled as best I could muster.  Inside, however, I was all lit up.

Remember, we live in a world of pain.  We just do.   Pain is inevitable.  Misery is a choice.  AND, sometimes a little pain shows you that you can do it.  Sometimes, we need a little nudge from a friend to bring our best.  AND, transformational teams do NOT just happen out of thin air.  They’re built.  They’re built two and three at a time.  They’re built by strong people pushing strong people.  They’re built by strong people learning how to best use their strength and learning how to best use the strengths of those around.  AND, they’re built by tired, weak, and thread bare leaders and their inspiration to close those last ten yards and by the memories that fuel their fire.

Push yourself into some pain.  It will hurt.  Somehow, you will find the strength.  You just will.

AND, you just might reconnect with an old friend along the way…