Every once in a while, something completely innocuous reminds me of Doug, and the challenges we face. I call these "Doug Moments". They are (generally) brief moments in time where our life situation strikes me deeply to the core.
Today I had another one.
I was "working out" in the hotel gym. (no that's not a typo) As I was resting in between exercises (as one my age tends to do more and more) I was telling myself that I really should take a few days off from all this exercise stuff. After all, what I'm really doing is tearing my muscles up, and I need to wait for my body to rebuild them. Then, I'll look just like Ah-nold.
It hit me then right in my gut. Doug's muscles don't rebuild the same way mine do. His break down, not build up. And there's not a bloody thing that I can do about it.
And for a few minutes there, life really sucked.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
WWMS
What Would Mao Say.
That's my title for today. I'm currently in China, and now that I'm settling into a routine, I thought I would take some time to catch up with some of the thoughts that have been rattling around in my head. Only China has different ideas. You see - I cannot access my blog from here. I cannot read it, and I cannot post to it. It appears that the powers that be think blogs are a danger to their national security.
Well, my mental security is more important - so I've worked around the problem. But it's slow and tedious. It's hard enough to get motivated as it is. I don't need this new headache.
That's my title for today. I'm currently in China, and now that I'm settling into a routine, I thought I would take some time to catch up with some of the thoughts that have been rattling around in my head. Only China has different ideas. You see - I cannot access my blog from here. I cannot read it, and I cannot post to it. It appears that the powers that be think blogs are a danger to their national security.
Well, my mental security is more important - so I've worked around the problem. But it's slow and tedious. It's hard enough to get motivated as it is. I don't need this new headache.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The Road Ahead
It's been a month now since I held the Ride For Doug, and I haven't updated my blog yet with it. This truely isn't fair. It was an extremely moving experience to be part of that whole day, and it deserves it's time in print. So here we go.
The Ride For Doug was an emotional roller coaster. Did I plan for enough riders, is anyone going to show up? Will I have to worry about attitudes and safety during the ride? What if someone crashes or gets lost? What if people don't have fun? What am I overlooking? Will I be able to hold it together the whole time?
You know what? Once we finally got rolling - all of those worries vanished. It was an incredible day of riding. 17 bikes with friends, relatives, and strangers - all riding for a single purpose. It seems really shallow - but the simple action of a dozen and a half bikes riding down the road together moved me in ways that I cannot put into words.
At more than one point in the ride, I was almost moved to tears. I may have been - if real men didn't cry. (it gets the leather wet) I can clearly remember riding down 16th avenue and looking into my rear view mirror and seeing a line of bikes stretching back into the distance. I looked back, and I knew that I was not alone. By the simple action of riding with me for one afternoon, all of these people were telling me that they were behind me. Behind Doug.
At more than one time, I looked forward - and what did I see? Blind corners, potholes, cars in the oncoming lane, or lurking in driveways. Danger, peril, and uncertainty lined the road ahead. But all it took was a quick glance back to remind me of why I was there. I was riding for Doug. And I am not riding alone.
The Ride For Doug was an emotional roller coaster. Did I plan for enough riders, is anyone going to show up? Will I have to worry about attitudes and safety during the ride? What if someone crashes or gets lost? What if people don't have fun? What am I overlooking? Will I be able to hold it together the whole time?
You know what? Once we finally got rolling - all of those worries vanished. It was an incredible day of riding. 17 bikes with friends, relatives, and strangers - all riding for a single purpose. It seems really shallow - but the simple action of a dozen and a half bikes riding down the road together moved me in ways that I cannot put into words.
At more than one point in the ride, I was almost moved to tears. I may have been - if real men didn't cry. (it gets the leather wet) I can clearly remember riding down 16th avenue and looking into my rear view mirror and seeing a line of bikes stretching back into the distance. I looked back, and I knew that I was not alone. By the simple action of riding with me for one afternoon, all of these people were telling me that they were behind me. Behind Doug.
At more than one time, I looked forward - and what did I see? Blind corners, potholes, cars in the oncoming lane, or lurking in driveways. Danger, peril, and uncertainty lined the road ahead. But all it took was a quick glance back to remind me of why I was there. I was riding for Doug. And I am not riding alone.
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