“You’ve got to get up every morning with determination if you’re going to go to bed with satisfaction.” -George Lorimer

Why do I keep waking up at 4:00 in the morning to do a 5km fun run or a 40km fun ride on my bike? No, I don’t enjoy struggling to shake off that drowsy feeling on a weekend morning when I know I should be sleeping in. Knowing how I will punish myself again with physical pain I find myself asking the same question over and over, “Car, why do you this?”

Last Friday (May 1, Labor Day) I woke up with a sore throat and fever I wasn’t excited to ride my bike. I wanted to back out but backing out wasn’t an option. My running coach said to me once, “Pain is all in the mind.” I forced myself to get up, eat breakfast and after taking 2000mg of vitamin C and paracetamol I left our house with very low energy.

I survived the ordeal of biking for almost 1 hour covering a stretch of 40km. Maybe it’s the effect of the medicine, or perhaps it’s sheer willpower. In my mind I kept pushing myself to keep going and going. I’m just thankful I didn’t collapse or had an asthma attack. I was exhausted yet, happy. But as soon as I got home I went straight to my room and crashed into my bed.

So why do I do these things? Why do I bike and run? I have one simple answer: I feel good about myself. When I am able to beat my personal record it feels great. When I survive a gruelling ride of uphill and winding roads it’s exhilarating because I was able to commune with nature. I feel good when I actually try out something new and not just wishfully think about it.

I believe that physical pain is nothing next to pain of regret. I would rather listen to my joints and muscles cry out in soreness, than my soul being haunted by what ifs.

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“… and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” -Hebrews 12:1 (NIV)

Being a Christian is not easy. I have my own share of ‘modern-day persecutions’. I have been labeled as being too serious and too straight by some. My personality has been judged as well because I don’t subscribe to other people’s idea of fun.

It takes a lot of courage to even admit out in the open I believe and pray to God. But I know I shouldn’t feel any shame. What’s really difficult is trying not to give in to daily temptations such as gossiping, whining or having a good laugh at the expense of making fun of people. It is not easy to overlook an offense and be forgiving, to be patient and not to say bad things about other people.

This is the real race I have chosen to run. To keep moving forward in my faith living out my identity as a child of God first and foremost. All other worldly titles are secondary. As God continues to mold me with His forgiving hands I know He is always there to cheer me on. For some people they will never appreciate nor fully understand what this whole ‘faith thing’ is all about. And if that is the reason for people to see or treat me differently then so be it . I’m willing to cut some ties. But life without God is empty. So I’d rather keep Him.  Starting out a journey with Him is an exciting experience it’s almost like starting a race. But it’s how we finish it is what matters most. I may have been sidetracked many times by fleeting pleasures. But I’m thankful for His grace and mercy I can always get back on track. And as I persevere to focus my eyes on the road my goal is to cross that finish line.

Early this year, I finished reading Lance Armstrong’s book titled, “It’s Not About the Bike.” He is a professional road cyclist, and he has won the prestigious Tour de France seven times. He is a cancer survivor.

One of my favorite lines from the book says, “Cycling is hard; the suffering is so intense that it’s absolutely cleansing. You can go out there with the weight on your shoulders, and after a ride at a high pain threshold, you feel at peace.

The pain is so deep and strong that a curtain descends over your brain… at least for a while you don’t have to brood on your problems; you can shut everything out because the effort and subsequent fatigue are absolute.”

I like that. Because I get it.

I may not be a professional cyclist, but I bike for many reasons: to sweat out the lethargy out of my body and to unleash pent up emotions. I bike to think. I bike when the world seems to be chasing after me, and I want to run away.

Biking for me can become almost a sacred ritual. It takes you to that divine moment when the world becomes your stage. It allows my mind to wander as I fly with the breeze, pulling away farther and farther as I pedal. The first blow of wind against my face is something I eagerly anticipate; it is a form of rush. It is in these first few moments that I may have the perfect feeling of being unbound. It is exhilarating and literally, I am lifted high above the grounds. My spirit dances, and I feel alive within. I am transported to another dimension.

As my muscles cry out and start to ache after each pedal, so does my heart bellow. My skin is dampened by sweat, but it feels like spring. My pulse race, yet I am in a state of solitude. I am a lone rider, yet I commune. It is both effervescent and ethereal. And then slowly, I enter into an abyss of tranquillity.

Just the wind, my bike, and me.

How I wish I can bike endlessly. I forget about the time. I actually forget about a lot of things while riding my bike. My bike has become an extension of myself. It is my silent friend. I can’t wait to ride my bike again. It almost feels like I’m coming home.

I can agree with Lance Armstrong. It really is not about the bike.

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