Cyclist Again

Starting in 2004 I became an avid road cyclist, riding anywhere from 3000 to 4000 or more miles each year.  When my wife, Diana was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer in October of 2013, I all but put my bike away completely.  My focus shifted from my own needs and desires to her needs and desires.  She always worried about me on the bike, and after she became sick she realized that she needed me more than ever.  Diana didn't want to hear that I had been injured or killed out on the road (unfortunately, it does happen all too often), and I wanted to devote as much of myself as possible to her.  Consequently, my Trek Madone road bike began to gather more than a few cobwebs sitting unused in the corner of the garage.

I also found myself using way too much comfort food as I wrestled with the demands of being primary caregiver for the woman I loved for a lifetime, and who I knew was slowly dying before my very eyes.  On top of all that, as Diana's appetite decreased, more and more of her food found it's way onto my plate, and I certainly couldn't let it go to waste (my grandmother's "waste not, want not" still rings in my ears to this day). As a result of eating for two (and for comfort too), my waist expanded significantly during the course of Diana's illness.  

It took about two and half months from Diana's death on May 5 before I could think about getting back on the bike, but somehow I knew that she would want me to.  I also knew that this would require a complete lifestyle change and a real commitment on my part.  So I found myself at the bike shop picking out a new fitness bike on which to start back down the road to becoming a serious cyclist once again.  I easily justified the expense after getting on my Madone race bike just one time. I quickly realizied that I had gained so much weight that the forward leaning position actually caused my belly to compress my diaphragm to the point where it was difficult to breathe.  A more upright riding position would be required, at least at the beginning.  And the investment in a new bike would make it harder for me to justify being lazy.

The first time I got on my Dual Sport 8.5 fitness bike I just rode a few casual miles around the neighborhood.   My knees creaked, my legs burned, my groin hurt and my butt ached.  I suddenly realized that it would be a long journey back to cycling form and fitness.  But each ride got just a little bit easier and a little less painful.  

It only took a couple of months before I decided to take my Madone in for a tune up.  This time when I got back on that incredible carbon fiber racer, it felt light, sleek, and fast.  The miles started adding up faster and faster.  Before I knew it I was thinking about a goal I had been dreaming about since the day of Diana's funeral. 

Hill Country Memorial Gardens is the name of the serenely beautiful cemetery where Diana and I decided to buy two burial plots before she died.  It is just 15 miles from our house by way of beautiful Texas Hill Country back roads.  On Tuesday I decided I was going to ride out to visit Diana's grave by way of bicycle for the first time.  It was a gorgeous fall morning and the ride was spectacular, with the possible exception of the monster of a hill about a mile from the cemetery.  

Upon my arrival I dismounted and leaned my bike up against our headstone.  I sat down on the ground, water bottle in hand, and began a one way conversation with my beloved.  Everything was perfect. The sunshine.  The breeze. The bike.  I felt unhurried.  I could talk to Diana about the things that had weighed heavy on my heart the night before.  I could hear her asking me about my ride.  How far was it?  How fast was my pace?  How many feet vertically did I climb?  Did I have any close calls with cars?  All the questions she had asked me after every ride.  I soon realized that my bike ride and the visit with Diana was the most healing thing that I had done since her passing on May 5.  Somehow, life felt better, more worthwhile, and filled with hope, and strangely filled with her blessing too.  My two loves, Diana and cycling came together in a wonderful way that was a powerful blessing to me. 

On the ride home I felt like I had wings, or as I once heard Jens Voigt (a professional cyclist) put it, as if there was "no chain," the pedaling was that easy.  Something else had changed too.  It's always been my custom to pray as I start every ride, asking God to bring me safely home to Diana when my ride was ended.  Lately, I had prayed that if God wanted to take me to be with Diana during the course of my ride, that would be okay.  As I headed out of the cemetery I prayed again for safety, asking God to bring me safely home to my daughter and grandson.  I knew that Diana would like that prayer better.  Our reunion will come, in God's perfect time, but for now I'm convinced that there's a whole lot more riding that He wants me to do.

My goal is to ride a century (100 miles in one day) before this year ends.  The route I have marked out will take me by the cemetery, and I plan to stop and let Diana know that I'm riding seriously once again.  I know she'll be happy, and so will I.