Shifting Occupations

There is only one week left on the Ride:Well Tour. Next Monday, I will be flying back to Minnesota to spend a week with family and friends. Then, 10 days after that, I will get in my car and drive back out east in time for school to start at Regent in Virginia Beach on August 24.

It's hard being in the van. I mean, it's hard being on the bike too, especially when the rain is coming down so hard one can't tell whether the bike is moving or the road is slipping out from underneath. There were days last week when I was glad to be in the van. But there were also days (and I know they will occur again) when the only thing I can think about is how bad I want to clip my shoes into my pedals, wrap my fingers around the handlebars, position my butt on the leather saddle, and once again become one with my bike. For over 2800 miles we were together, and now I feel as though half of me is missing.

My first reaction after I left the hospital was to be giddy. I can't believe I don't have to ride any more, my drugged up mind rejoiced. How glorious to have an excuse that everyone will sympathize with! In some ways I was waiting for an accident to happen.

My second reaction, after the Percocet wore off, was to be hopelessly frustrated, angry that I even went on this trip if I wouldn't be able to bike the whole way. Isn't that what I told people I would be doing? Yeah, so I'll be biking across the U.S. It's 3172 miles (it will actually be 3400). It will be hard, but I'll make it...

No mention of accidents. No mention of time in the van. No mention of not riding every mile. It wasn't in my plan, okay? Two days after my crash, Erin White took the honor of the ninth hospital visit after running over a dog and getting a concussion. I had had enough. What's the point of riding to help other people if we ourselves keep getting hurt?

I wish I had answers. I wish I could transform this spontaneous blog post into a polished essay with a sound object lesson. Something bigger is going on, and I have no idea what it is. Time will tell, I suppose. In the mean time, however long that takes, and most especially during our last week together, my job is not to feel sorry for myself. Instead of concentrating on what I am missing out on, I need to realize how fortunate I am to live in this country, go on this trip, make so many new friends, grow closer to my Creator, understand myself better, develop my life purpose, and, last but not least, have access to clean water and sanitary medical facilities.

Water and healthcare have both come to my rescue during the Ride:Well Tour. The former I anticipated. The latter came as a complete surprise. Honestly, I wish I had been forewarned.