What goes up . . . (Mt. Bike part II)

... Yes, must come down. This is the glory of the climb—those down-hills—mmm. (I missed skiing dearly this ‘winter’!) However, it just so happens that I didn’t have functional brakes. Kind of problematic, don’t you think? A little panic-inducing when you’re going down a steep, but not too much. I did realize this during the first chunk of decline, and had Louis and Henry add to ways I’m indebted to them by asking them to tighten my brakes. (This did make it more difficult, yet, because it’s tightened to the extent that it’s braking a bit even without squeezing the handlebars, but so be it. Haha. They have a lot of ammunition for making fun of me at this point, from past rides… glad I’ve learned to laugh at myself in multiple languages. ; ) )

Made me think about going with reckless abandon, without fear, without boundaries, without precaution… the good and the bad and the need to ask for help.

Around this point, Henry gave me the “bad news” that I had gotten dirty, this time on my own.  (Just the week before, Louis had attempted to jump a puddle but had landed with his back tire just-so, so that it splashed me in muddy “chicken water”)

Somehow, some people get through hard workouts and look like they just applied makeup and fixed their hair, they do manual labor without breaking a sweat, they cook and look cute in their apron with a sparkling kitchen. I’m not one of those people. I develop piles of paper before I clean my classroom or bedroom thoroughly. I make a mess in the kitchen and then clean it up. I turn redder than red for a good hour or two after I work out. If I play with kiddos, I’m just as dirty as they are. And I think I’d like to remain such a person, or at least just admit that that’s how I am. Be it in relationships, in thinking, in speaking, in creating… I relish the simplicity and beauty of the complicated interconnectedness of life.

I don’t really think I will ever be cutesy and delicate nor will I have precise handwriting, succinct thoughts or an immaculately clean and organized space to call my own. This is not to say that I embrace chaos, rather that I embrace the God of the universe who actually has the control, not me. I will still fight entropy. I make my bed (most of the time) and do my laundry and wash my dishes and use file folders. I’m just not afraid of the mess.

My dad taught me, “If you make a mess, you clean it up.” That is to say, take responsibility for your crap. This is difficult, because you have to admit that everything isn’t perfect. In Luke, even the tax collectors and all those in a similar “far from God” lifestyle “acknowledged that God’s way was right” when they heard Jesus’ words because they had received a baptism of repentance. But the Pharisees and other Bible thumpers and experts “rejected God’s purpose for themselves” because they had not humbled themselves and repented. This is why I think it’s ok that I admit a lot of the things I’m not good at right now. I can make it through this season (Phil. 4) as long as I start on bended knee and looking out and up.

I think a lot of what’s “worth it” in this life or hints at the real deal is messy and difficult. I still struggle to lean into the tension. 

Lessons from the mountain bike--pero, pongale!

From uncle to nephew, teacher to student, coach to player, friend to friend… 

“It’s not how many times you mess up, it’s how many times you look up, get up, learn and move forward that count and make you who you are.”

I am extremely happy and extremely exhausted almost each and every time that I go for a real ride. This is part of what I deeply enjoy about riding my bike. Mountains, seeing new views, rocks and foliage, gritting it out, sunshine, sweat, and worship, all sound echoes of what it is to truly live. The thirst one feels and quenches with coconut water or an ice-cold squirt from your water bottle remind you of the water of life.

But you also have moments of extreme frustration, wanting to give up, getting dirty, sweat making your hands slip from the handle bars (should buy gloves haha), lacking technique, bug smacking you in the eye and temporarily blinding you, and legs aching, challenging you to continue.

So what I like in the combination of moments is finding lessons to be learned and moments to be grateful for.

Lessons of the week—Asking for help, enjoying “family,” doing hard things and not giving up when you’re not the best, going without brakes and without breaks, and life is messy.

So, we took a new route  (we, meaning my co-worker, Henry and his friend, Louis, whose daughter is probably mortified that he rides bike with a teacher from school haha) up into the mountains behind Santa Ana. I am an addict of novelty and difficulty, so I was definitely up for it.

[However, I was overly tired from lack of sleep and other factors, which I felt from the get-go, and new things/new routes are always a little difficult to navigate, based on the fact that you don’t know how long each hill, the next turn, the terrain, the whole thing is going to last—when to exert, when to hold back, when to rest, etc. This applies to life on the whole, as well.]

I enjoyed realizing that I can climb the steeps and it is rewarding. The part that got me followed one such incline where we entered the forest and it became real mountain biking, the trail following the path that the water had taken down the mountain the day prior.

I am not a biker. I like to ride my bike. I have no technique for such things and very little patience for things I can’t figure out right away/haven’t been taught. I tried different things and put forth a lot of effort, but I can’t say that I really found the right gear or even made it very far at a go before slipping in the mud and losing traction, back wheel hitting a rock and throwing me off-course, or front wheel heading straight into the crevice/depression that the water had dug out in the middle of the path, and getting whacked by the plants obscuring the way.

I had to stop to breathe and collect myself before emerging to an overlook and explaining to my companions that I had been SO FRUSTRATED! They thought this was kind of comical, motioning me to come, take a picture with the view behind. Then, they reminded me that they, and pretty much everyone else who’s come that way, has fallen many a time and that you have to exert more effort just when you think you’re going to fall. You might even need it to be in a higher gear—harder—than seems logical in order to really get traction. Well, I have a fairly large frame (bike and body), but can’t say I’ve been hitting the gym hard, so I’m just not strong enough/have no idea what I’m doing.  So I didn’t suddenly master it—quite the contrary, but it was a profound lesson to consider and be reminded of for life right now and always. 

For example:

You will fall. You will do things you are not good at. You do not need to cry about it. You need to learn and practice. You need to not give up. You will get past it. You will slip up. You will find people to encourage you. There are people who can help you. There are parts you have to go it alone. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. You are not invincible; neither are you weak.

So get going!