Perhaps, it is some form of pride, prejudice or stupidity which makes us overestimate ourselves, and makes us go faster than we ought to. Sometimes, going faster helps to stretch our abilities, inculcates discpline and strengthens our character. But sometimes, it makes us… less.
Each time I am around them, I feel my eyes opened in a different way. I look at them and become inspired. Having suffered from spinal cord injuries from dramatic accidents, or being polio survivors, many of them have tasted pain, suffering and prejudice. Some were born with polio. One suffered 7 gunshots in an armed robbery in America. One had an injury fighting as a soldier in his native country years ago. They had lost use of their legs, but their determination to put their minds, spirits and arms to good use put many of us to shame. Not only do they do so for themselves, but for others, too. Many of them are motivational speakers, and do much to try and help other children/youth with disabilities to find new life in sports.
Helping Fungus by volunteering with the handcyclists has been utterly enjoyable. The handcyclists participate in races mainly to raise awareness for the sport, and to reach out to others who may turn to it as a form of rehabilitation from their disability. But because it is extremely dangerous for the handcyclists to race in a triathlon amidst other faster, able-bodied cyclists, volunteers are needed as biking escorts to ride in front of and behind them to provide air cover.
Perhaps it is our pride which often makes us think, that it is always us who makes the sacrifice, always us who needs to slow down for others who need our help. So I was amazed when I biked with Michael, one of the handcyclists with polio, as I discovered how hard I had to push myself to keep up. He had improved tremendously over the months since the previous race, and my legs, tired from training during the previous 2 days, soured in agony as I pushed ahead. I even had to chase him at some points, as he overtook another handcyclist in good speed. I knew that it was not only Michael, but myself too, who was pushing himself within healthy limits. And it was thanks to him that I, too, felt a sense of accomplishment at the end. For without him, I would not have pushed myself that far, would not have been inspired to even try that hard anyway. I only pushed myself that far because I could see how how important it was to ride closely behind him as a safety marshall, how dangerous it was for him as other cyclists raced irresponsibly close past him.
I learnt, that what we think of as “slowing down” for others, may actually be bringing ourselves further than we would’ve otherwise. I wouldn’t have had the determination to push myself otherwise.
I also learnt, that it is often our friends who make the distance shorter, who make us go faster than we would have done ourselves. But I also learnt, that there is such a thing as going too fast.
I was shocked when it happened. An experienced triathete on his (probably) ten-thousand dollar roadbike zoomed towards us from behind and at a dangerous, narrow bend, refused to slow down for the handcyclist and us. It was obvious he was a competitor, and being a safe or friendly rider was not his priority. On that bend as he tried to overtake us, I gasped in utter shock as he shouted his presence to everyone to steer clear, and on that fateful bend, came so close to me that his torso shoved against mine as he zoomed past me. We were just a hair’s end away from a terrible, terrible crash. He could’ve crashed into me, who could’ve crashed into Michael, who could’ve crashed into the other biking escort in front. How close were we to a nice bloody mess on the side of the road because he was going too fast at the expense of others.
It made me rethink my priorities, made me take stock of how we use what God has given to us for His purpose, and also, its potential for evil.
How do we use what we have to bless others?
In some way, it is a sacrifice. After all, volunteering to be a biking escort is certainly different from taking part in your own race. When the crowd cheers, they are cheering the handcyclist on, not you. You are merely an escort, a safety marshall looking really un-cool in a fluorescent vest here to perform a duty. It always humbles me, to wonder if we can go through life the way God requires us to, meekly, humbly, without trumpeting nor fanfare.
I believe God has a way of speaking to us. One Saturday as I was cycling, I saw someone fall out by the roadside. She was a cyclist who had fallen ill halfway and could ride no further. I had looked forward to a good workout all week. I wanted to ride on. But God told me to stop, told me to listen, to ride with her slowly till she got to safety. She needed someone to go slow for her, and He wanted me to learn the lesson of going slow for someone else. I did, and felt a divine presence with us as we rode safely and slowly back. I understood, that being able to use my legs, and overcome my decade long fear of cycling was not a right I owned. It was a gift from God, a blessing to share with others. So I made a new friend, and learnt a new lesson that day.
As we rode back, she looked at my bike and said the same thing I had heard over and over from countless other cyclists, ” Your bike doesn’t fit. It’s too big for you. “ And I smiled, bittersweetly, because I knew already. But it is a gift from God, even if it costs a tenth of what most cyclists I know own. I never deserved it in the first place. God has blessed me with legs, and He even gave me a chance to cycle, to get to know the handcyclists and many lovely friends… why should I ask for more?
I believe it wasn’t coincidence when it was that same evening that I heard the question which I had given up on. It completely floored me. God has His way of blessing us when He has birthed in our spirits what He wants us to learn. “ Hey, we want to get you a new bike for Christmas and your birthday. You look around till then and let us know, okay?”
Silence.
“Say that again?”
It was then that I made a decision that everything we have must be used to bless others. That the gifts and talents we have been given are not so we can finish the race fastest, but so we can bless others with them. Because when we do, it might surprise us to know that we went further, pushed ourselves more, gained something of eternal value, had more fun and achieved what we would never have if we had pushed on headlessly and hurriedly by ourselves.
After all, the handcyclists, though “slower” than the rest of us, have blessed me in ways more deeply than they could ever imagine. “
Fungus asks me, “Why don’t you do your own race yourself sometime?”
“I will someday, Fungus. I just like biking with you guys, that’s all.”
Because you’ve taught me so much.
Fung and I
The handcyclists from HAS (Handcycling Association of Singapore)
and all the volunteers
” Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit,
but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself.
Let each of you look out not only for his own interests,
but also for the interests of others.”
-Phil 2:3-4