For those who’ve followed me for a bit, you know that I’ve trained for and completed many Sprint and Olympic Distance Triathlons. I first caught the bug in 2007 when a couple of buddies thought it’d be fun to get back into shape and accomplish a goal. So, I bought a cheap pair of goggles from Walmart, dusted off an old bike, bought a decent pair of running shoes, and headed out the door each morning for some training. Fast forward to today, and many of those guys have stopped or burnt out on triathlon, but for some reason, I keep going.
I remember one training ride I was on in 2015. It was a Sunday and had rained that morning, so I couldn’t get my ride in before church that day. Fortunately, I have a loving and understanding wife who said it’d be okay if I’d do a ride in the late afternoon. Our kids were still young back then, so to get away for an hour in the afternoon wasn’t ideal, but the ride needed to get done. So, off I went.
It was mid-September at the time, and it was a coolish afternoon. Wind speeds were around 13 mph which also isn’t ideal, but again, I had to go. So, into the wind I began. I’m no Lance Armstrong, so my speed when heading into the wind isn’t the fastest. But I always start into the wind first, so when I get to my turnaround mileage, I can return with the wind at my back.
For my bicycler buddies who are reading this, you know that biking is a half dangerous activity to begin with. Cars are the arch nemesis of any biker. We try to stay off the roads with heavy traffic, but you just can’t avoid them all. Most vehicles are quite courteous and share the road willingly; they move completely over to the other lane when passing. Others may just move over a bit and straddle the middle line. Then there are times when a car is coming from the other direction, and the car coming from behind can’t get over, so they lawfully should slow down to let the other car by before passing. But some just bowl right through, assuming you’re over far enough not to get struck. That’s not cool.
Then there’s those random times when a driver just doesn’t see you at all. Either the glare of the sun, or they aren’t paying attention, or they’re looking for a car not a bike. All are a recipe for disaster and are ultimately what leads to injury and death for the rider.
So, there I was. Pedaling against the wind, thinking about whatever you think about, wind strongly drowning out any sounds from my ears, when all of the sudden…in a nano-second…WHACK! In .00001 seconds, the following 5 things occurred, in order:
- A loud cracking sound, like 2 boards slamming together, occurred in my left ear.
- A large red object came into my purview immediately to my left.
- Pain beyond anything I can describe pulsated into my brain, sourcing from my left butt cheek.
- Followed by pain beyond anything I can describe pulsating into my brain, sourcing from my left shoulder.
- And finally, the sound of glass shattering on the road.
Oddly, I was still upright, and I knew enough to apply my brakes and assess a) whether or not I was still alive and b) if so, what had just happened.
Turns out, a small red SUV hadn’t seen me (even with my highlighter shirt and flashing rear bike lights on, but I digress) and had basically side swiped me. The immense pain I felt was the side rearview mirror of his vehicle hitting my back side and the bracket it was attached to slamming against my shoulder on its way by. The shattering glass sound was the rearview mirror hitting the payment and shattering into a million pieces. I had likely gotten whacked by that mirror as he was going 55 mph, which was partially offset by the fact that I was going 17 mph. Either way, that mirror hit me at a high rate of speed.
Ahead, the SUV had pulled into a driveway and turned around. My brain just couldn’t process it all. My butt and shoulder hurt, but I kind of thought that I was actually okay. About the time I had come to this conclusion, the old man driving the vehicle stopped, rolled down his window and asked me if I was okay. To which I said, “I think so.” He was old and likely shaken as well, he drove forward a bit, got out of his vehicle and picked up what was left of his rearview mirror off the road. He crawled back inside his vehicle, and drove off.
Still reeling from the incident, I had discerned that I quite literally came less than one inch from certain death. Had he been over to the right just a bit, I would’ve easily been ran over and sucked under his tires. My breath and heart rate would not decelerate as I finally came to terms with what had happened. I needed to calm myself down and determine if I was actually okay. I pressed into my butt cheek, wondering if I’d broken any bones internally. I felt and lifted my shoulder around to see what damage had occurred there as well.
Unbelievably, I determined I was okay. Then, I got mad. What the heck was this guy doing? If he couldn’t see me, he shouldn’t be driving! Then, I got mad at myself…why didn’t I get his license plate number! I decided to channel my anger into the balance of my ride. I chose not to call Keri or go back home. I finished my 20-mile ride while my butt and shoulder throbbed in pain.
Not wanting to make a huge deal of the incident to Keri when I did arrive home, I told her a much less scary version of the tale. If she knew how close it was, she may not have ever wanted me to ride again. Quite honestly, I was asking myself if I’d ever want to ride again.
In the days and weeks that followed, the deep bruises that were left on my cheek and shoulder turned every shade of black and blue. In the end, I didn’t want that incident (accident?) to get the best of me, to throw me off my rhythm, to place me back on the couch, out of shape and out of sorts. So, I continued to train. I had to swallow my fear each time I went out for a ride that season. Slowly but surely, I healed. And eventually, race day came, and I was ready. And I finished.
Ever get whacked before? No, not by a red SUV, but by life? You’re minding your business, going about your merry way when all of the sudden…WHACK! That cracking sound of the piece of unexpected news, the divorce papers, the diagnoses, the layoff, the death of a loved one, the market swoon, the gossip, the anxiety, the loneliness. All come out of nowhere. You’re left bruised and hurting. Wondering what just happened and how you’ll ever move forward, how you’ll ever get past this, how you’ll ever get back on the bike.
Then, you pause. You take a breath, you assess the situation. You realize that underneath it all, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Yes, it hurts. No, it’s not comfortable. No, it’s not what you would’ve chosen. No, it’s not the way you would’ve written the story. But, it’s okay. Life isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, it’s the way it is. It’s how we cope with it that makes the difference.
Face forward, towards the wind. Head up, shoulders back. Embrace the suck. Suppress the fear. Use it as kindling for healing, for progress, for hope. Fight through the pain. Finish the race.
Do the work. Brick by brick. Make your future bigger than your past. And live on purpose today.
