3/3/2020 0 Comments Sag WagonWhen my husband and I were dating, he was really into cycling. He was one of those guys who rode a bicycle to work everyday so he would stay in shape and be able to ride extra long distances on the weekend. Every t-shirt he wore was adorned with the name of some ride in which he had participated. The TV was tuned into the Tour de France from the moment it started until it ended. He followed the progress of the peloton on his computer so he wouldn’t miss a thing. The local bike shops knew him by name. And he loved to talk about the latest pedals, gears, saddles, frames, etc, etc. He loved cycling and shared his love with everyone he knew.
He loved it so much, he even bought me a bike so I could ride with him on the weekends. Unfortunately, I had trouble shifting gears with my right hand so our rides weren’t always at the speed he enjoyed. I liked to look at the beauty of the park we were riding through, he liked to power through whatever surroundings we were in. He relished the challenge of the hills, I did not. I struggled on the inclines despite his best efforts to coach me. I never found standing on the pedals and powering up the hill much fun, I was always more of an enjoy the decline kind of gal. Two bikes and many rides after my initial, uncoordinated rides with him, I started to understand his passion. I attended some of the big rides out of town and even acquired some of the participant t-shirts that set me apart from the spectators. I was almost an athlete! We pounded down plates of spaghetti the Friday before our Saturday races in the name of carbo loading; and I almost got to the point where I could drink a water bottle and ride a bike at the same time, it was an amazing time. One of the ways he convinced me to go on my first distance ride, was to tell about the sag wagon that rode behind and picked up riders that had crashed or couldn’t continue. He assured me that I wouldn’t be stranded on an unfamiliar highway in the middle of the mountains forced to live on pine bark and tree moss until the forestry service found me three days later. The sag wagon never left anyone behind. I would be okay. Fortunately, I never needed the sag wagon. I made it through my first ride just fine. In fact, I only had to get off and push up one incline! With his help and coaching, I accomplished something I never would have tried had he not encouraged me. The promise of the sag wagon propelled me to try, but his coaching got me to a place where I could do it. I also discovered that riding a bike is more than just pedaling hard and remembering which hand brake to pull so you don’t flip the bike over (that was a painful lesson). I learned that professional biking is a team sport. One man is chosen to win, and his lieutenants help him achieve the victory. They ride ahead so he can draft behind and conserve energy. The dynamics of cycling are very interesting and intricate. To earn a spot on a professional team is very hard and highly sought after, and once you attain this honor, a certain expectation of care after a crash is understood. Last week, he showed me a video of a young Colombian rider who had crashed during a ride in Europe. This young man had trained for years and finally had the chance to travel abroad to perform the sport he loved. His expectation was the same as mine when I rode that first ride: the sag wagon was there for him. But this time it wasn’t. We watched the young man wave his front wheel that was clearly bent at car after car. We watched as the vehicle that was clearly marked in the colors of his team passed him by. He stared after the car as his arms drooped. The frustration was clear on his face. Shoulders shaking, he slumped to the ground and wept. Through it all, the stoic Brits that always announce cycling events talked. “By jove, that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.” One announcer quipped. “I do think He has been forgotten.” The other said. I couldn’t help but wonder where the photographer was during this entire scene. Eventually, the young man got up, grabbed his warped front tire in one hand and his bike in the other and started walking up the hill following the peloton and sag wagons that had left him behind. It was heartbreaking. This young man from Colombia experienced something that we all do at some time in our lives. The feeling of being let down by the ones that are supposed to have our backs. For the majority of us, we have our breakdowns take place in a much less public way, but that doesn’t mean they hurt any less. Have you ever experienced a time where everything felt uphill, your one means of transport becomes unusable, and then your sag wagon passes you by without a second glance? What a perfect metaphor for major life struggles! It happens to all of us, and the only thing to do when it does is to pick up our broken bicycles and march towards the goal alone. People will let you down, even well meaning friends and colleagues, but God will walk beside you on your uphill trudge and help carry the load and wipe your tears. I pray that the rider from South America knows that even in his moment of very public abandonment, God was with him. Reliance on others is part of living, we are all geared towards that kind of community. However, sometimes God allows the sag wagon to pass us by so we learn to rely fully on HIm and not our own strength or the help of others. My friends are amazing, but I know that they aren’t a substitute for a relationship with God. I have to make sure that I am trusting in the only one who drives a sag wagon that always stops. God is too good to leave me by the side of the road. He is too good to leave anyone behind, all a person has to do is call on him. I just wish more people understood that principle.
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AuthorI am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.
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