“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear”. – Mark Twain
Like I said. I had no idea. Who does. Though some people seem to confidently navigate this life so effortlessly that it leaves me wondering. Knowing me, I was probably out trying to find frosting for the holy wafers when they passed out the chapter on “What to do if….“.
When Logan was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes I had no idea, but I kept moving forward. When he was diagnosed on the Autism Spectrum, I knew, but I had no idea, but I kept moving forward.
So I’m wondering, why do I feel like I’m standing still right now. I usually just face things, whatever they are and move forward. I’m not getting it and I’m feeling a bit raw at the moment. Vulnerable. Maybe a tad too honest about this moment. I know, I know…truth is power, but seriously if I could just eat some chocolate and solve this on my own without sharing it with you I’d be happy to do so.
I really don’t know what to expect on this ride. Granted I try not to have expectations, but I usually have a feeling. Right now, I got nothin’, nada, zip, zilch. This training process has been so different for me, challenging me in ways that I would never have expected. I pictured myself jumping on that bike and riding for miles, feeling free, every day, on the road. But I haven’t. Paved trails, laps around the neighborhood and piles of miles on my trainer. but not on the road. I feel like I’ve hit a wall.
I don’t even know that I can explain it, I just can’t get a handle on it. So I look at my bike and will it to ‘speak’ to me, it doesn’t so I think, “work backwards, break it down – Why am I riding?”
First, I try to figure out why the pedals scare me so much, and second why does the road freak me out. What am I really scared of? Um, drivers under the influence? Hello, I live in Colorado. People texting? Vacationers wandering over into the bike lane as they ooh and aaah over the flatirons? How about those prairie dogs? Yeah, what about those guys?
Still I think it is the actual feeling of being locked in, restricted…my feet clipped into the pedals, it just got to me and rattled my confidence. I also think it is a little parallel with how I’ve been feeling lately, locked in, and how I feel about Logan’s life with diabetes, locked in. I haven’t felt like this before.
I suddenly realize that I want a cure. Right now. I want him to be free of this burden, I want a cure for all.
I know that riding my bike 100 miles won’t cure Logan but it will remind me that we are not locked in, we have the power to make a difference, the power to help, and the opportunity to believe. Believe in ourselves, believe in a cure.
My mind drifts back to that moment in Florida when Logan asked me to take the diabetes out of his body. I realize that this is big for me, bigger than I realized. This is stretching me.
Running a 1/2, it was just me, my gear and the trail and a few mental games that crept in during my training. But I was never scared. Not even when I got on that bus at 3 a.m., by myself and then walked down a dirt road with over 20,000 people in the dark. Didn’t scare me one bit. It was weird at times, but not scary. I just lined up and did it. That’s kind of how I operate. Just do it, don’t over think it, just do it.
Ahhhh, now we’re getting somewhere, I think I’ve been in my head too much and not on my bike enough. Psychin’ myself out.
When I ran the 1/2 I knew, for the most part, I knew what my body could do and where my legs would take me. Riding this century, it feels so different. Its me, my bike and a bunch of other people and their bikes. I have to trust that I will know what to do and trust my bike.
I just want to go to LaCrosse and ride, in fact I’m picturing Pee-Wee Herman right now.
I’m looking forward to being a part of something good. I want to see my old friends and meet new ones. I also realized that I am going to miss not having Tony and the kids at the finish line. We do everything together and as much as I crave alone time, and time with my friends, this is one time that I will miss not having them there. They are my pit crew, my cheer squad…my inspiration.
As I drift from thoughts of motherhood, to Logan’s diagnosis and how I got to where I am today, I can safely say, I had no idea what was coming and where it would take me.
I’ll admit, this was a tough one. I think what scared me even more is that there are things that I want to do. I want to do all of the JDRF Rides, I also want to do a duathlon, and it was freaking me out that I couldn’t get over this hump.