I’m Feeling Fine, What’s the Problem?

Here it is; another Saturday morning. The sky is blue. The temperature holding right around 68 degrees. I can hear all kinds of birds surrounding the house with their symphony of calls. In the distance the sound of cars, carrying passengers to their daily activities or appointments. The penultimate stage of the Tour de France just ended minutes ago atop Alpe d’Huez. And I’m sitting on the couch. I mention this not to implore sympathy or infer protest, I simply mention it because your day began with similar conditions. It may not be sunny where you are nor would I assume you’re on the couch. What I am saying, is your day most likely started without a hitch. You went about your business as usual. Me? Not so much. Typically, I’d be on my bike by now and as I glanced at my training schedule (prepared months ago) today would have been my favorite ride; a 120 mile climb up and over the Santa Cruz mountains to ride along the coast to Half Moon Bay and back.

However, now a bit over six weeks since my accident I’m getting quite board with this “new” routine. I feel fine! I just want to get on with things. So… I am. Enough sitting around.

I’m taking charge of my own destiny… dammit!

Does this mean I’m closing my laptop, tossing these darned crutches and walking out the front door like an angry teenager? Will I pull on a cycling kit and helmet and pedal my way up Highway 9? Am I going to lace up my running shoes, put in my earphones and hit the “start” button on my Garmin? uhhh no. I’ve little less than three weeks to keep weight off my right leg before seeing how my hip is healing. I have no intention of allowing my impatience to sabotage the best route to full recovery, of which I been told, read numerous accounts and simply feel, deep down, is what’s best. However, I’m not going to just sit here.

Yesterday, I went to the gym for the first time. Carrying both my swim-bag and my workout backpack, I had to carefully negotiate turns, doors, people, steps and water (yes, on the ground, which is what got me in this mess in the first place). The first thing I did was find a recumbent bike and strapped myself in for a spin. Keeping the resistance at level 1 (it doesn’t get any easier than that) I pedaled a mild 60 rpm for 30 minutes. Did not even get a glimmer of sweat on my body but boy did if feel good! Next, I found a couple of cable machines where I was able to do a little upper body work. Finally, I wanted to go to the pool but was informed it was closed for a private party. Dang! That’s what I wanted to do most. Oh well, that’s for this afternoon!

Back down in the locker room, it’s time to shower. Gingerly, I make my way across the wet floor, checking the grip of each crutch under my arms. This makes what would be accomplished in a few minutes a process that feels as though it could produce fossil fuels. Now dressed and having slung both bags over my shoulders, I start to leave the locker room. The bags are slipping awkwardly down my arms, I’m asked a couple of times if I needed help. I politely decline… This is part of the workout. This is part of what it means to go about my business as usual… I’m feeling fine and life goes on.

As a pastor, I have the privilege of being a part of many significant events in the lives of people I know, as well, others I do not know. Most of them are joyous occasions, some of them challenging and at times, sad. This has allowed me tremendous perspective on life. As the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes reveals and popularized by the 60’s pop group, The Byrds, to every season of life there is a purpose and we must come to understand while it may be a time to dance for some it may be a time to mourn for others. I see this so clearly every time I stand beside a family, broken with grief, in a cemetery, parting with a loved one for the last time. It is here I ask them to listen. Typically, under the crisp, blue sky you hear birds calling, the sound of a lawnmower, perhaps a plane overhead and certainly cars in the distance. I tell the family, not too long ago and not too soon from now, you have and will be those people; going about your affairs unaware that someone like you is standing here today. Life goes on and this is just a season.

What’s the problem?