There were lessons learned . . .

I learned more on this bike ride than I've learned in awhile. When you mix a new path, a marathon, a nearing thunderstorm, a painful fall, and no cell phone, you're in for something.

I decided it would be a good day for a long ride. I knew there were thunderstorms in the forecast, but the sky looked blue and the temperature felt great. I got dressed, packed a Cliff Bar, Chapstick, and pepper spray, then headed off. When I got to the river, I spent at least ten minutes attempting to avoid marathon runners at the end of their race. It was fun to see the emotion as they crossed the finish line, but instead of that being motivation for me to ride more, I only wanted to sit and watch. I decided I'd head up the river, but found myself back in the same maze of people fifteen minutes later. I almost went home. Fortunately, the thought of my upcoming 90 miles on a bike a day encouraged me to continue . . . but I wasn't too excited about it.

Next thing I know I'm on the side of a path looking at a map. The trail I was on was familiar, but I noticed it connected further down to another trail I liked. I decided I'd take it. Unfortunately, trails aren't always marked well, and my lack of direction caused quite a bit of frustration. A map would appear about every seven miles and I'd make sure I was still on track. The lake I was headed to looked far off and dark clouds were coming in. I rode faster, but oncoming construction slowed me down. The path was shut down and I was directed to a detour. The frustration and anxiousness increased a little-- I didn't want to get caught in a storm, I didn't want to get lost because I didn't have a phone, and I'd been afraid of getting a flat tire (don't know why).

A few minutes later, on a street I didn't know in an area I'd never heard of, I lost control of my bike and fell at an intersection. My bike was fine; I was angry. It wasn't because people saw and had to ask if I was alright, or that there was blood dripping down my leg, or an unknown number of miles left to go with thunder in the distance, but simply because it was a lot harder than I wanted it to be. Luckily, the frustration turned to speed and my next few miles were extremely fast, but soon enough, a cold rain started to fall. I was happy it'd wash some of the dirt off my wounds, but mad I didn't make it back soon enough.

By the time the rain stopped I was almost off the lake, back on the familiar stretch of path leading home. I was in pain, and tired emotionally and physically. I made it home, washed up, took a long nap and felt more accomplishment then I'd expected. Not only was there a story to tell and a lesson to learn, but a little victory to hold.

As I was on this journey, God taught me a few lessons:
I am making my way down a path, and there will be a mix of encouragement, pain, confusion, direction, and frustration. If I will keep my eyes fixed on the path in front of me, I'll get where I need to be.
I could sit back and let watching other peoples' victories stop me.
I could turn around when I feel tired.
I could avoid the more difficult path because it's not familiar.
I could sulk in pain.
I could hide from a storm.
I could get lost turning off the right trail, looking for my own way home.

OR . . .
I could continue on, through all the hard times, trusting that the path He's already mapped out for me will lead me to victory.

I leave in one week. I know God is with me and I can't wait to see the journey He takes me on in the upcoming months.