Crazy Kicker (or Pusher) 🚴‍♂️🚴‍♂️

My legs were burning and challenging to control. What I thought should be second nature now required deliberate thought and effort? I’m not going to make it I thought to myself. I’d pushed it too hard today, and I was paying for it.

The morning started early. At 4 am I was checking over my bike one last time and getting my water bottles and other extras together. Today was the “Crazy Kicker Bike Ride!” Having just conquered the 50 mile part of the Hotter’n’Hell ride a couple of months before, I was convinced that today I would only build my confidence by doing an even longer ride. Besides, my riding buddy was going to be friend and mentor Bryan, a long time rider and one of those guys who was seemingly born on a bike. Still dark, Bryan pulled up, and we loaded the bikes.

“Ready for today?” He asked.

“I was born ready!” Of course, since I had been riding bikes for a little under six months at this point, I was in my mind a regular Lance Armstrong minus the steroids.

“How far do you want to ride today? There is a…”

“100. I’ll be riding the 100-mile route if you are up for that?”

Bryan didn’t role his eyes on me, but he could have. This is the same guy who several years ago rode the “Triple Bypass” of 120 miles through three mountain passes in Colorado while unknowingly having shingles. Yeah, that is probably why he hurt during the ride and yep, he was up for it.

Where I live, it is flat. If you drive north, south, or east, you will find hills. I was not used to hills.

We pulled up to the front and listened to the ride announcements and overview which I couldn’t hear. When the ride started, I couldn’t help but remember back to my first, and last cross country meet in high school. The gun shoots, everyone takes off sprinting, and I think there is no way they are going to make it to the finish. Not at that pace. However, I wouldn’t see them again until I finished long after they already had. However, to Bryan’s credit, he hung back with me. He seemed to enjoy this neat trick of hopping the shoulder strips on the road with his bike. He’d be going along, and instead of riding across the noisy grooves in the street he would hunker down and then pop both wheels in the air and sort of skip his bike sideways. I considered trying it a couple of times but figured an ER visit would put a damper on me reaching my goal for the ride.

For some it is running, some like to fish, other’s mow, Zumba, yoga, tai chi, or whatever, that clears your mind. My outlet was biking. I’d fallen in love that year. In fact, in May I had saved up a few bonuses from work and purchased a legitimate road bike. Not necessarily the highest end by any means, but a bike from a bike store that would run circles around my Walmart special from college. Now, I’ll be honest; I used to think biking was stupid. Until after church one day Bryan was talking about how much he liked to ride. At that point, I thought I might give it a try, and that is when I tried riding the three miles on an access road to work. I thought I would die. Not just from exertion but also the fact the brakes were very finicky. Sometimes they would work, other times they required divine intervention. I did this for a couple of months in the spring and when Tabby learned that the brakes were less than adequate and saw I had glued the handlebars back on she suggested I upgrade. Looking at the bike next to the new one, I wondered how I survived on that thing. Well, if anything, that Walmart special did wonders for my emergency prayer life.

Anyways, cruising on the bike always gets my mind rolling. My best thoughts on everything come when I’m riding. It is also an excellent way for me to recall things. At this point, I was thinking about Bryan’s stories he had told me on the way down of flying F16’s in Iraq and doing what was called a “show of force.” That is apparently where the jet gets low and buzzes the enemy to scare them crazy and get them to retreat. It would have worked for me! He had some pretty cool stories. I had met Bryan and his wife Rebecca when we joined our life group (church group) about three years before. Tabby and I had felt comfortable and made many new friends almost immediately. Some of our best friends to this day have come out of that group. In fact, a few months before the ride we were on, Tabby and I had helped start a new life group in our church with Bryan and Rebecca. We were so thankful to be working alongside them. But back to the moment, I was more pleased Bryan hadn’t left me in the dust. I was quickly gaining respect for how much work a car accomplishes when climbing hilly terrain. I never remembered the hills here as so significant.

We made it to the first rest stop, and ten miles in I was still feeling pretty good despite the hills. Have you ever had pickle juice? It tastes about like you think it would. They have it at a lot of the rest stops. I don’t usually drink it until I’m somewhat delirious and then I lie to myself that I will be faster once it’s in me. It was after this rest stop that we encountered the sorriest excuse for a road in the state of Texas. It was kind of like a mixture of asphalt and large gravel chunks. A Prius might have high centered on a few pieces of the road. It was bad. It was also about 15 miles of uphill. Even Bryan didn’t like the road.

By the time we hit the forty mile rest stop, which was situated a half mile off the route, Bryan asked if I wanted to stop.

“Nope, I’m good. Don’t need to stop.”

The truth is, I needed to stop but didn’t want to add an extra mile. Bryan prodded again, but I persisted that I was okay.

When we reached the mile fifty rest stop, I was beginning to question my abilities only slightly. Tabby had left town to see her parents with our daughter and had warned me not ride too far. I had sinus surgery two weeks prior and was supposed to do only “light exercise.” I’m really a lot more athletically gifted in my mind than I am in reality. Even to this day I still catch myself telling Tabby I’ll load something substantial in the car or carry something. Then I try to walk a few steps and come back to reality. Maybe this bike ride was a sort of preparation for this reality. Either way, for the first time in a while, when it came time to disembark the mile fifty rest stop, it was the first time I could remember of not being enthusiastic to get back on the bike. However, I wouldn’t let Bryan know this. Not yet anyways.

Around mile 63 I looked at the hill ahead of me and began to question how we can continue to go up a hill so often without hardly ever going down. I still think we had just one big hill after the other despite doing a loop. At one point my GPS clocked me at about five mph. For those of you wondering, anything slower than that and the bike just falls over. It was about this time I realized I didn’t see Bryan anymore. I kept telling him he could go on ahead. There were plenty of people on the course, and he could get an actual workout in at more of his own pace. I figured he had already taken me up on my offer.

Winded, wheezing, and a little wobbly I realized that I was only halfway up the hill. Maintain 5 became my mantra. I didn’t want to fall over. This was my first time riding long ways with the pair of clip in shoes Bryan had given me. Then I hear Bryan,

“Hey Wade! Your numbers are falling off. ”

I’m pretty sure I mumbled, “I don’t care,” in between wheezing. Also, I didn’t feel the number was loose on my back, but that was not high on my priority list.

“Let me help you out.” Says Bryan calmly has he rides up beside me probably struggling to not fall over as well going that slow.

What happened next was one of the most comical yet kind things a friend could do for me. My number was not falling off, but Bryan ended up pushing me up the hill, driving his bike one handed. I was only able to maintain about 5-6 mph. With Bryan pushing, I was nearly back up to 10 mph. No joke, he pushed me up that hill and the next ten hills. We had one more rest stop. He gave me a pep talk, and I decided I could make it back to the finish, although, I would skip the last leg of the 100. There was no chance I was going to make that. After popping another pickle juice, I was ready to roll.

The last 7 miles felt like the previous 70. So many hills. Thankfully, Bryan stayed with me and other than nearly getting flattened by a car while pulling into the finish the race ended anti-climatically. Except for the point where I glided over to Bryan’s Jeep and couldn’t get my feet to clip out. I did try for all of thirty seconds to unclip. Finally, I just fell over. Yes, the road hurt a little but the tired legs won out. I could barely hear everyone chuckling as they were loading their bikes. I had finished a personal best, many thanks to Bryan, and I was still breathing.

I’m pretty sure it is a Kenyan proverb, or heck, according to Google Abraham Lincoln probably said it, but it means something to the sort of:

“If you want to travel fast, go alone. If you want to travel far, bring a friend.”

Well, without Bryan there I wouldn’t have made it half as far as I did. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have been at the ride to start with. That ride will always be one of my favorite memories if for anything it taught me a lot about friendship.

Almost a year later from that ride, my unknown illness at the time was slowing me down to the point I couldn’t keep up with anything. I had stepped down from my role at work, and I was about to have to step down from the life group I was helping to lead and teach with Bryan. Truthfully, it was hard. I beat myself up for not having the energy to keep going. Through the summer I had pushed through it as best I could but in my mind, I grossly over estimated my ability to keep going. One Sunday after class I had gone home as had been the routine and just crashed. Unable to hardly move I finally got the phone and had my virtual assistant Siri call, Bryan. I dreaded the call but knew it had to be made. Explaining to him that I just couldn’t go any further, I’ll never forget that he said not to worry one bit and he’ll take it from here. Once again, it felt like I was on the bike, except this was our life group we had started, and instead of faltering in a race, this time he pushed the entire way.

Being in a small town I’ve known many since kindergarten. There were several more friends in our group that helped me in the same way Bryan did when I stepped down. They stepped up and said we’ve got it from here. But, as funny as it was at the time, God used Bryan that day somewhere outside of Mineral Wells, to teach me so much about friendship in one gesture.

I’m thankful for all of my friends. I’m very gratefully for what turned out to be my last foreseeable bike ride. Bryan taught me a lot that day whether he meant to or not. One thing I didn’t mention, it had first been shown to me by my friend Scott, was drafting. Drafting is where you see cyclists riding very closely behind one another. I thought it was stupid at first. It makes a huge difference. Kind of like ducks, the person in the lead takes the brunt, and the person in the back almost gets pulled along. Bryan led the way through the tough parts of the ride and at the end when he wasn’t busy pushing me up a hill he was leading up ahead and making a path for me to follow. I hope as you read this that you have a friend like Bryan in your life. Secondly, and perhaps even more important, I hope like me you are inspired to be a friend like Bryan to somebody else.

“Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4:9-10‬ ‭NASB‬‬