Blackburn

Thursday 24 October 2013

Tour Divide - Why



Cool Video just put out from ACA.


I have been trying to answer the question `Why` when talking about my Tour Divide experience. I am not a pro.  Not racing to win. I am competitive by nature and I think that helped me to push when I was out there for sure.  But what I usually will tell you is`Why not` or `Because its there` or I would tell you I loved the adventure and find it thrilling knowing I am attempting something most people wouldn`t even consider. Or that I need to live my dreams before its too late. All of those answers are very true. However for me the reason was bigger. For me, failing in 2012 was an important part of the `Get back up and fight` process. For me, there is much more to the answer that I really don`t understand. I think for myself I need to answer the question more completely or risk losing the answer completely. So if you don`t like hearing about grown men crying look away now. I feel a little weird about putting this out there so sorry for the sap, but this was a significant moment in time for me. I promise to do my best to never speak of crying again. Please destroy after reading....(or just skip to the next post)

Below are my thoughts from that day in June 2013- Somewhere between Atlantic City and Rawlings...

I had tears streaming down my face. Tough to hold back today. Spent a lot of time crying over the last few years about things I felt I had no control over. I was the cause of my own troubles I am sure but the solutions were beyond me. I shed tears of hopelessness, tears based on fear, more based on the dwindling ability I had to keep secure the things I loved. I wet my cheeks over thoughts of increasing my life insurance policy as a way out. I had days that many would consider trouble free but the tears would still come. It was never a wail, or a sob, or a breakdown, or an obnoxious dramatic sort of cry, but a slow release of mind numbing pain I could not control. Many nights I layed awake in a panic when I should have been sleeping, and many days I spent sleeping when I should have been working. I tried the pills, I tried the talk but still something was missing. I lost faith in family, lost hope in the future and lost part of my soul in the process. You can lose a lot of things, money, friends, loved ones, your keys, but when you lose hope, that is about as close as you can get to the end. Today as I cried, my tears mixed with the dusty air to draw mud lines down my face that I smudged with my hand accidentally to create warrior lines when I wiped my tears. Today when I cried it was different. It wasn't a wail, or a sob, or a breakdown, or a sniffling or an obnoxious dramatic sort of cry, in fact if I kept my glasses on, if anyone else was there they may not have noticed my emotion at all. These tears were making way for part of my soul to return. My eyes would fill up and slowly leak down and I could feel the pounding force of an uncontrollable joy soaking in through my skin as the tears dried in the baking hot sun. I was thirsty, hungry, tired, cycle computer read 114 degrees and I didn't see a cloud in the sky. I had ridden 100 miles through the deserted section of the route that I feared the most with 50 more to go that day but for the first time in a long time I had found hope. Right there, where I least expected it. Hope met me there in the desert landscape of the Great Basin on the Great Divide holding on to another piece of my soul and smiling. This was the first time in two years I knew I was going to make it. The route had chewed me up and spit me out in 2012, and up to this point in 2013 I held on to large amounts of doubt. At this moment though, with more than 1400 miles left I just knew I was going to pull this off. The feeling of hope was so foreign to me. It was overwhelming really and the tears of hope just rolled down my face and I let them. I lifted my head to the sky with my eyes wide open and whispered "This is what I came for" and I smiled and rolled on.

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