Unfinished: A Personal Journey of Healing, Self-Discovery and Resilience

For the past few years, a local restaurant has sponsored a charity bike tour for the purpose of raising money for cancer research in our area. The ride is held on the second Sunday in September that can bring an array of challenges weather wise. Two years ago, riders were faced with torrential downpours and winds that stopped you in your tracks. Thankfully, that was not the year I chose to ride!
I have always loved to ride. Although running was my number one love, nothing was quite so exhilarating as letting gravity propel me at crazy speeds down the steepest declines I could find. What a rush!
However, after undergoing a neck fusion in the spring of 1998, my days on a racing style bike were over. Instead, I had to settle for a bike that provided a more upright position. I truly thought my days of lengthy rides were a thing of the past: until this year.
After being analyzed by a bike technician, I was fitted to a bike that provided me with the comfort level that allowed me to pursue longer rides. Not as fast and light as a road bike but nevertheless, I was in heaven! With this newfound freedom, I decided to ride in the charity event, opting for the 50-mile distance.
My competitiveness kicked in and what had been casual bike rides turned into anything but. I rode with fervor - each ride timed and having to be faster than the previous. If it wasn't, I chastised myself, vowing to do better the next time out.
My, oh my. In my book, I share with the reader how hard I was on myself during my competitive running career. Now, here I was again, repeating the same old dynamics of having to go faster, pushing myself to the limit in spite of my body's protests. The crazy part was that this charity ride was not even a race but I had now turned it into one - one against myself.
On one particular day, I decided to do a 20-mile time trial, my self-talk demanding that I push myself hard. As per usual, I set my Garmin to pick up the satellite that would track my speed and distance. Today, no go! For whatever reason, Garmin was not cooperating and I would have to ride solo, not knowing if I was faster or slower.
The universe had just given my a gift and as I rode, I realized that I had reverted back to old patterns, somehow equating my speed or lack thereof, to my self worth. It was time to reset my inner dialogue and instead focus on just the sheer pleasure of riding and taking time to notice the beautiful backdrop of scenery surrounding me.
My rides took on a new facet and a new sense of freedom. Sure, I still pushed myself but more for the gratifying feeling of physical exertion. I even opted on several rides to leave Garmin behind. (Ironically, Garmin never failed again to pick up the satellite!)
Finally, the day of the ride arrived. I had barely slept, crazily excited to meet the challenge of thigh burning inclines and of course, the thrilling declines. The weather was ideal and I embraced the rush of adrenaline of riding in a pack and at other times, alone.
As I approached the final mile I turned on the afterburners, loving the speed and so grateful for just to be able to ride: wild, strong and free!