During a mission trip to Sri Lanka last year, I remember teaching a group of children about the having the strength to stand strong in the midst of life’s storms. The night before Sunday’s gruelling race, I read a similar story. The story’s lesson point was this: Life’s storms can show us the strength of our faith. Those who are deeply and firmly rooted are able to rebound and keep going when storms come.
Interesting passage to read the night before my race on Faith, I thought- especially if you read the word faith as my bicycle. Life’s storms can show us the strength of our faith.
Someone from a relay team for the long distance triathlon no longer wanted to cycle, and so I had the chance to stand in for her for free, so that together with another swimmer and another runner, we would form a triathlon team for the 70.3 miles Aviva Half-Iron Man race. The half Iron Man race comprises of a 1.9km swim in the sea, a 90km bike ride and a 21.2km run. At least 20 of my friends participated in completing the full distance today. I, on the other hand, was happy to have the chance to be part of a relay team, to have a taste of what the full course would be like.
I was mentally prepared for a tough ride: 90km without drafting, not having trained much for it (since I was given the slot only 5 days before race day), lots of hills and climbs, lots of other cyclists and curves to manouvre and a hot, hot sun to battle.
I wish I could’ve told you that when I finished my part of the race, my tears were those of joy. I wish I could’ve told you I ended the race feeling proud and good about myself. But I didn’t. I ended on a very low note, and I teared.
I fell. I fell on Faith. And it was not like any fall I had before.
It happened so fast. My helmet hit the road and my body went limp for a moment. When it happened, I felt pain all through my lower body, and for a moment I could feel nothing at all. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I was flung a fair distance, and landed with a significant impact. It was my lower body which hurt the most. A genuine feeling of fear gushed into my blood. I was afraid that my worst fears might be realised, and quickly wiggled my fingers and toes to make sure I wasn’t paralysed or hadn’t broken any bones. A gentleman came to my aid, hauled me to the side and kept reassuring me. Are you okay?
My first words were, “Where is my phone?” followed by, “I want to finish the race. Pass me my bike, thank you.”
I had already done 2 out of 3 loops. There was another 30km to go, and I wanted to finish it. My runner was waiting for me. At the time my heart had sunk a little but I kept my spirits up by thanking God I hadn’t broken anything. Finish what you started.
Faith, in both sense of the word, though battered, was intact.
By that time, the sun was beating down mercilessly, burning my skin to a crisp. Yet, there was a quiet joy as I continued pedalling up the ferocious slopes. It was then that I started to feel immense gratitude for the prolonged period of ‘suffering’ on my previous too-heavy, too-big bike, because the slopes now felt manageable on Faith, which was much lighter; It was then that I realised that no journey can be underestimated, because we never know what can happen. Only when I finally reached the end to hand my timing chip to the runner of the team, did I take in what had happened. The fall kept replaying in my mind over and over, my butt, shoulder and back were still sore. Traumatized by the impact, I felt so down I didn’t want to talk to anybody.
It was just a fall. Yet, it made me feel disappointed and discouraged.
At the end of the race, M asked me how I did. M is a stranger I met on the road that day, an experienced triathlete from New Zealand. He has now become not only a friend, but a coach, too. He qualified for the World Championships last year and tops his category for races quite regularly. Our meeting was utterly random, we agree it was by divine appointment and he now attends my church regularly. Since our meeting, he has blessed me tremendously by giving me tips, advice, and a strategic training programme to fit into my tight schedule, but most importantly, spiritual input into my physical training too. He’s very strict, very harsh at times, but very effective as well.
“I fell,” was all I could muster. He saw the disappointment on my face.
“Well, did you finish?”
“Yes.”
“Well done.”
That night, he called me. “Hey you W. J, how ya doing?”
“I fell,” If I had been expecting a pep talk or some fluffy empathy, I would have been sorely disappointed.
” Hey. The triathlon is not an easy sport. A half Iron Man is 70.3 miles. 90km on the bike’s gotta be tough-it’s not to be underestimated, okay? It builds character. If you ask me, I’d say you got off real easy today because you only did the biking leg, and you didn’t break any bones. I’m reeeaaallly glad you had a tough and rough day. This is good, it’s all positive. You’re wanting to do a half Iron Man so this is how it is. You’re tough, you’ll bounce back. This is a reality check, okay? Triathlons, like life, are tough and rough-like the kingdom of God. You wanna do this, it’s not easy. Rejoice, rejoice in your affliction.”
Silence. “Do you think I did well?”
“Yes. As long as you learnt something, you did well. I’m glad you had that fall.”
Perhaps, the greatest lesson I learnt today was Resilience- the ability to bounce back when one faces a setback, when one lands an unexpected fall. It reminded me of the story I told to the children in Sri Lanka, about the coconut tree being tall and slender, but strong enough to withstand strong gales.
I fell today. I fell on my bike, Faith. But my faith, though battered, remained intact.
Later at the end, I learnt that many of my friends who are experienced triathletes had bad crashes and falls, too, but each of them shrugged it off easily without feeling too traumatised. Some of them couldn’t race because they fell ill, but resolved to complete the race another time. I saw a cyclist cycling with his mouth bandaged- later, I learnt that he had crashed head first but continued to complete the race after plastering his lips. Each of these warriors rebounded from their setbacks because they had developed an inner resilience within them.
I suppose it’s true, that life’s storms really do reveal to us the strength of our faith. Perhaps, no journey is complete without having one’s Faith tried and tested. In our storms and setbacks, do we give up and give in, or do we choose to pick ourselves up?
It was then that I realised, how precious suffering is. For affliction helps us perservere, and teaches us to endure when our faith suffers a fall.
I learnt a lot from my friends and other participants who took part in the race. Toward the end, every minute was excruciating but they pressed on, and perservered. I became thankful, that God has chosen to use sports to teach me some of life’s deepest lessons. And as long as I guard my heart against pride, He will continue to use this amazing witness of human and divine strength to strengthen and deepen my faith.
The story I read writes: Life’s storms can show us the strength of our faith. Those who are deeply and firmly rooted are able to rebound and keep going when storms come. I fell, but I learnt that what mattered was that I got up, brushed it off, and finished the race.
Someday, in God’s time and way, I would like to finish a half Iron Man, too.
