Lobster Roll Days One and Two

Nathan said he was going to blog about the ride. I've been neglecting this bad boy for quite some time so I figured why not fire it up. But then I have had absolutely zero cool things to say. And yesterday, when we got to the end of the ride at 6:30, I couldn't come up with a single thing. So here's the second attempt.

I only drank two Mt. Dews today. And only 12oz each at that. I'm just thinking that if I go to that well too many times too early, it won't have the same restorative effect on day 5 and 6 when I really need it. Right?

You would think that after 105 miles yesterday the part of me that would hurt the most would be my legs. But honestly, it was my hands and the bits I sit on. Vague discomfort, then really annoying, then feeling overwhelmed by the desire to not be sitting on my bike pedaling.

Of course, if I give in to that, I miss this:

And there were plenty of times today thanks to some very smooth roads and some nice tailwinds where you get to just cruise along in line at 20-25mph. There is something immensely satisfying about working in a pace line and perhaps even more so when they are your friends and you are working on something that is so much fun and will end up helping people facing something much less pleasant. Something terrifying and soul crushing.

Plus one of my favorite songs and one that I even had ambitions of learning to play on the piano ages ago is Ashokan Farewell, composed by Jay Ungar not far the reservoir at a camp where he ran a festival for years.

He said he wrote the tune as a way of trying to deal with the feeling of loss that overwhelmed him when he had to return to regular life and say goodbye to the special people that he played and sang and lived with at the camp.

He wrote that by the time "the tune took form, I was in tears. I kept it to myself for many months unable to fully understand the emotions that welled up whenever I played it. I had no idea that this simple tune could affect others in the same way."

Well it does.

And I think all too often we think the things that move us might not move other people and so we keep them to ourselves and we don't share.

There's a strong current of shared salvation that runs through Mormon theology and one that I've been more and more moved by over the past ten years as we've been part of a very special congregation in Philadelphia and also, sadly, as we've born the burdens of grief and loss together as we've lost members of that extended family.

And I've tried to articulate a thought along those lines as I've thought about this ride and what we are trying to do and how doing something that I really enjoy and am incredibly privileged and fortunate to be able to do (ride bikes with my friends through beautiful places for six days while neglecting all the other responsibilities in my life) could possibly be meaningful to people facing the exact opposite sort of thing.

But then someone said something to me Thursday night about this mattering. At first I thought she was talking about something else and I tried to play it off with some off-hand comment. But she said it again, "it all matters."

So I still don't have anything cool to say but I am awfully grateful to share this week with Mike and Nathan and Tim and Brian and Rob and CJ and in some small way with the folks who will benefit from the support that people have donated to Flatwater.