A Blown Engine

I rode into work this morning, with a purpose.  I don't mean getting to work, which was something I planned on doing.  I mean, I was trying to break 40 minutes.  I've done this before.  However, since it happened, I (a) broke my pelvis, and after recovering, I (b) gave a double-unit of blood.  I am now getting back up to speed, and, even with a pretty hard week of riding under my metaphoric belt (who wears a belt when they ride?), I figured I had a shot. 

I left the house.  Big ring immediately.  Got up to speed, and started going.  Back off a bit, then worked it going up the hill.  As I arrived at the summit of the climb, I eased off, because I knew that I needed to save some for later.  I can't go all out the whole time; if I try, I'll blow the engine.

Which brings me to my lesson.  I need to have times of rest.  That rest is optimum if it is a capital "R" Rest.  That is, I need to take time away from the world, and glowing rectangles, and the noise, and sit quietly in His presence.  Otherwise, I'll blow my engine.

The source of my joy

I rode to and from work yesterday on the trails.  I felt great, and rode well, and had a wonderful time.  And that's okay.  However, there is a danger.  It's an easy slope to slip down that starts with enjoying the ride.  Then, it moves toward the ride brings me joy.  This is followed by the ride is the reason for my joy.  That's a bad place to be.

I need to be careful.  I really do enjoy riding, but the ride can't be the reason.  It all has to point back to God, because God makes very clear that he will not share His glory with another.  In addition, if I am depending upon the bike, it will let me down.  I would then have the problem of being without joy because of a bad ride. 

It was the first ride with the new tires.  The new tires are really quite grippy.  I'm sure there's a lesson from that, too, but all I have so far is "Whoo hoo!"