Last night I rode in my first time trial, which is bike race in which the riders start at 30 second intervals (in this case) and ride the race course as individuals. Team time trials also exist, but you get the idea. It is, for all intents and purposes, a one-person race against the clock. When I showed up at the church parking lot in Medina where the race would start I felt like a regular person must feel who stumbles into a Star Trek convention. Most people had special time trial bikes and time trial bike suits and helmets. I didn't see any bikes that looked like mine--just a good, but regular, road bike. The two things that I didn't want to do were to crash and to be the last finisher. Mission accomplished. As it turns out, I was the slowest of the 60 or so riders, but since I started 22nd, other faster riders finished after me.
It would have been easy for me to get discouraged about feeling like I really didn't fit in; like I was out of place. But I decided before I went that this race would just be me against the clock, regardless of any other riders. I also thought that I could set a benchmark for comparison when I ride the same time trial later in the summer. With that perspective, I could embrace the race for the new experience that it was and try to learn from it. And boy did I learn!
I learned that I need to learn how to climb hills. I learned that I need to practice riding on the drops. I learned that I need to not eat pizza for lunch on the day of a race. I learned that I am looking forward to the track racing class that I am taking with my daughter--because there are no hills! I gained a newfound respect for the guys that I see during TV coverage of the Tour de France. I also learned that no one who was racing cared whether I was slow or fast.
I wonder how often people at church feel like they have stumbled into a spiritual Star Trek convention? If you don't know the words; don't know what happens next; don't know exactly what the guy in front is talking about (at the race last night I had to ask someone where the starting line was--I might as well have painted "newbie" on my forehead in orange paint), then a person could feel out of place. It might be tempting to just not come back. But what if a church could make people feel like it is OK for new people to feel new? To be aware of new people without catering to them?
I was fine with being new at bike racing last night--and I will go back. But I am glad that no one made a big deal of me being a first-timer. That would have made me very uncomfortable. Not to brag on my own church too much, but this is something that the Quarry does well. The church is aware of how newer people may be feeling and explains things to help take away the anxiety of uncertainty. We talk about why we do some of the things we do. All without shining the spotlight on new people. Perhaps that will allow those who are new to church to check things out and get comfortable at their own speed.
Pressing On,
-Ken
The Persistent Journey -- toward authentic living in an inauthentic world
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Thoughts on Headwinds
Today was my first real outdoor run since the end of January and my most recent knee operation. I have run a few times on hotel treadmills while traveling, but today's 3.8 mile jaunt even went out of my neighborhood.
Since the knee op I have been doing lots of biking--both indoors and out--and the thing that strikes me when I go outside is the wind. No matter whether it seems breezy or still at the start, it always seems to get windy while I am riding. It occurs to me that part of the issue is that no matter what the rest of the weather is doing, I am creating about a 18 mph wind just by riding. So even if a 10 mph wind is at my back, I am riding into an 8 mph "headwind". And when I am riding into the wind I am facing a 28 mph headwind. So my biking reality seems to be that unless my riding pace is equal to or less than the general wind speed, I will be riding into a headwind. (The same is true of running, just a slower speeds.) Granted, this leaves out consideration of crosswinds, but this is a reflection on things other than wind patterns.
Bottom line, part of riding and running is facing a headwind--even when everything is going as it should. Why should this be a surprise? Living life is, in and of itself, a struggle--battling headwinds. Not that a struggle is a bad thing. Not at all. In fact, it is struggling and striving that proves that we have life. (Only dead fish float downstream.) And we probably all know of people--or have been those people--who stop trying. Who generally give up and, in a very real sense, stop living.
Until my run earlier today when I considered these thoughts, I was feeling bad about the biking headwinds. I was sort of feeling sorry for myself that I have chosen a fitness activity that will always go into the wind. My new perspective will not negate the headwind issue, but I can choose to see headwinds as markers of progress and effort. If I am not facing a headwind, then I must not be trying very hard or going very fast. Charging into a headwind is actually a sign of good things--life and vitality.
One of the things that I really like about my church is that the Quarry is more concerned about authentically pursuing Jesus than about making people comfortable. The main question is not what can we do to make people more comfortable, but instead is what can we do to lead people into a face-to-face, heart-to-heart encounter with the God of the Universe. Some have questioned whether we should be trying to make things easier for people who are not accustomed to church. I believe that we should not put needless roadblocks in place, but since following Jesus is charging into the headwind anyway, why try to make it seem like something it is not? Instead, what if we embrace the challenges of following Jesus as indicators that mark life and vitality?
Don't get me wrong, I would still rather face the stiffest headwinds early in a ride or run while I am relatively fresh, but I can welcome the later headwinds as the signposts of accomplishment that they are.
Pressing On,
-Ken
Since the knee op I have been doing lots of biking--both indoors and out--and the thing that strikes me when I go outside is the wind. No matter whether it seems breezy or still at the start, it always seems to get windy while I am riding. It occurs to me that part of the issue is that no matter what the rest of the weather is doing, I am creating about a 18 mph wind just by riding. So even if a 10 mph wind is at my back, I am riding into an 8 mph "headwind". And when I am riding into the wind I am facing a 28 mph headwind. So my biking reality seems to be that unless my riding pace is equal to or less than the general wind speed, I will be riding into a headwind. (The same is true of running, just a slower speeds.) Granted, this leaves out consideration of crosswinds, but this is a reflection on things other than wind patterns.
Bottom line, part of riding and running is facing a headwind--even when everything is going as it should. Why should this be a surprise? Living life is, in and of itself, a struggle--battling headwinds. Not that a struggle is a bad thing. Not at all. In fact, it is struggling and striving that proves that we have life. (Only dead fish float downstream.) And we probably all know of people--or have been those people--who stop trying. Who generally give up and, in a very real sense, stop living.
Until my run earlier today when I considered these thoughts, I was feeling bad about the biking headwinds. I was sort of feeling sorry for myself that I have chosen a fitness activity that will always go into the wind. My new perspective will not negate the headwind issue, but I can choose to see headwinds as markers of progress and effort. If I am not facing a headwind, then I must not be trying very hard or going very fast. Charging into a headwind is actually a sign of good things--life and vitality.
One of the things that I really like about my church is that the Quarry is more concerned about authentically pursuing Jesus than about making people comfortable. The main question is not what can we do to make people more comfortable, but instead is what can we do to lead people into a face-to-face, heart-to-heart encounter with the God of the Universe. Some have questioned whether we should be trying to make things easier for people who are not accustomed to church. I believe that we should not put needless roadblocks in place, but since following Jesus is charging into the headwind anyway, why try to make it seem like something it is not? Instead, what if we embrace the challenges of following Jesus as indicators that mark life and vitality?
Don't get me wrong, I would still rather face the stiffest headwinds early in a ride or run while I am relatively fresh, but I can welcome the later headwinds as the signposts of accomplishment that they are.
Pressing On,
-Ken
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Pretend World meets Real World
Yesterday was just my second outdoor Minnesota ride this season. The indoor training has been going well--lots of miles and feeling pretty good riding on the trainer in the basement and the garage. Yesterday brought a stiff wind out of the NW, so I planned the first half of my ride to go into the wind (so that I could have the wind assist on the way home). Needless to say, cycling in the real world of the outdoors was a different world than in the wind-free zone of my garage.
Every mile felt like a battle and every uphill was made even more challenging by the unrelenting headwind. There was no room for coasting, because even a momentary rest from pedaling brought a stunning decrease in forward speed. A pace that felt pretty easy and sustainable in the garage on the trainer felt like a lot of work out on the road.
I couldn't help but think that this was just one more area of life where the training zone or the classroom is--alone--inadequate preparation for the real world. How often has a parenting idea sounded like just the ticket, only to be shattered on the granite of my kids' stubbornness. How often has the most promising communication theory failed to translate into heart-to-heart sharing of thoughts and ideas.
How often has the faith concept from a sermon, a Bible study, or a book that seemed so elementary to integrate into my life proven to be like climbing a giant sand dune--sliding back five feet for every two gained. I shouldn't be surprised by this reality, but I wish that someone had the courage to tell us that it will not be as simple or as straightforward as it sounds. I wish that someone would be willing to risk saying that while Jesus may be the answer, that answer does not come without tremendous effort and perseverance.
Neither biking nor faith is all downhill and with the wind at your back. That you can count on!
Pressing on,
-Ken
Every mile felt like a battle and every uphill was made even more challenging by the unrelenting headwind. There was no room for coasting, because even a momentary rest from pedaling brought a stunning decrease in forward speed. A pace that felt pretty easy and sustainable in the garage on the trainer felt like a lot of work out on the road.
I couldn't help but think that this was just one more area of life where the training zone or the classroom is--alone--inadequate preparation for the real world. How often has a parenting idea sounded like just the ticket, only to be shattered on the granite of my kids' stubbornness. How often has the most promising communication theory failed to translate into heart-to-heart sharing of thoughts and ideas.
How often has the faith concept from a sermon, a Bible study, or a book that seemed so elementary to integrate into my life proven to be like climbing a giant sand dune--sliding back five feet for every two gained. I shouldn't be surprised by this reality, but I wish that someone had the courage to tell us that it will not be as simple or as straightforward as it sounds. I wish that someone would be willing to risk saying that while Jesus may be the answer, that answer does not come without tremendous effort and perseverance.
Neither biking nor faith is all downhill and with the wind at your back. That you can count on!
Pressing on,
-Ken
Friday, March 4, 2011
When I close my eyes ...
I can be riding any place that I can imagine. If your basement is like mine, it is not the most picturesque place to spend a lot of time. But the basement is where my bike will fit on the trainer (and it is not yet outdoor riding weather here in Minnesota). I have worked up to riding 35-45 minutes at a time and the view has not changed. Since my bike is secured in a trainer it is not going anywhere. So I really don't need to watch where I am going. In fact, I can close my eyes and imagine riding wherever I want to ride.
My imaginary ride along the Mississippi River on County Road 39 is a fun one. So is my ride along the imaginary Greek coast (double the imagination for double the fun!). My longer rides along Pensacola Beach almost feel warm and sunny, with a slight flavor of salt spray in the air. Of course, these wonderful rides are only taking place in my mind. As much as the imaginary rides may serve to distract me from the fact that I am riding my bike in the basement, I do not go any place. You may be able to understand my imaginary riding now, but in the spring and summer, when it is actually nice enough to ride outside, you might think it odd if I continued to ride in the basement and just imagine being outside. More than odd, you might consider it a wasted opportunity.
Sometimes I wonder how often I settle for imaginary spiritual growth. It is relatively easy to "close my eyes" and imagine that I am going great places in my faith journey. I can recall heights and grand vistas that I have seen in decades past and can imagine being there again. But if I am really just "riding in the basement," then all of my imaginations are just wasted opportunities. The value comes from staying on the actual journey and making real progress--and not settling for an imaginary journey.
I have learned (but seemingly constantly need to be reminded) that the way for me to stay authentic on the journey is to regularly clamber out of the basement of study and thinking to meaningfully interact with real people with real spiritual questions and needs. A couple of weeks ago my small group (GSGE) from church went to serve a meal and assist with a worship service at a shelter in Minneapolis. The eye-opener for me was when two gentlemen with whom I was talking began sharing with each other the bus routes where the drivers allowed them to stay on the bus all night. I was dumbstruck as I realized that I have never had to be concerned for where I would sleep at night. I have never had to wonder whether I could find a warm place to spend the night. And what answers does God have for these folks? I felt clearly that a faith that only imagines that it is growing and vibrant has nothing to offer to the real challenges that real people face.
I can rehab my knee by riding in the basement, but I cannot meaningfully engage with a world in need if my spiritual growth is just imaginary. With a billion people in the world who live on less than one dollar each day and another two billion who live on less than five dollars each day, I must not be satisfied with imaginary growth.
One thing I know about biking in the basement. The first ride outdoors will come as a shock. I can remember from years past that I may feel like I have kept a pretty good fitness level, but that first ride, with hills and headwinds is a kicker. The realization causes me to want to work harder with my basement riding so that the first ride outdoors goes well. For the sake of real people facing real challenges my faith training MUST also go to the next level.
One place I am starting is to prayer for a different country each day. This way I am reminded that God is not all about me, but that I am to be all about the people He has created--everywhere. Operation World has a great resource www.operationworld.org/join_prayer-movement. From this page you can sign up to receive an email each day with a different country highlighted. I have been going for 64 days now and it has certainly gotten my heart and praying out of the "basement."
Join me out on the road?
-Ken
My imaginary ride along the Mississippi River on County Road 39 is a fun one. So is my ride along the imaginary Greek coast (double the imagination for double the fun!). My longer rides along Pensacola Beach almost feel warm and sunny, with a slight flavor of salt spray in the air. Of course, these wonderful rides are only taking place in my mind. As much as the imaginary rides may serve to distract me from the fact that I am riding my bike in the basement, I do not go any place. You may be able to understand my imaginary riding now, but in the spring and summer, when it is actually nice enough to ride outside, you might think it odd if I continued to ride in the basement and just imagine being outside. More than odd, you might consider it a wasted opportunity.
Sometimes I wonder how often I settle for imaginary spiritual growth. It is relatively easy to "close my eyes" and imagine that I am going great places in my faith journey. I can recall heights and grand vistas that I have seen in decades past and can imagine being there again. But if I am really just "riding in the basement," then all of my imaginations are just wasted opportunities. The value comes from staying on the actual journey and making real progress--and not settling for an imaginary journey.
I have learned (but seemingly constantly need to be reminded) that the way for me to stay authentic on the journey is to regularly clamber out of the basement of study and thinking to meaningfully interact with real people with real spiritual questions and needs. A couple of weeks ago my small group (GSGE) from church went to serve a meal and assist with a worship service at a shelter in Minneapolis. The eye-opener for me was when two gentlemen with whom I was talking began sharing with each other the bus routes where the drivers allowed them to stay on the bus all night. I was dumbstruck as I realized that I have never had to be concerned for where I would sleep at night. I have never had to wonder whether I could find a warm place to spend the night. And what answers does God have for these folks? I felt clearly that a faith that only imagines that it is growing and vibrant has nothing to offer to the real challenges that real people face.
I can rehab my knee by riding in the basement, but I cannot meaningfully engage with a world in need if my spiritual growth is just imaginary. With a billion people in the world who live on less than one dollar each day and another two billion who live on less than five dollars each day, I must not be satisfied with imaginary growth.
One thing I know about biking in the basement. The first ride outdoors will come as a shock. I can remember from years past that I may feel like I have kept a pretty good fitness level, but that first ride, with hills and headwinds is a kicker. The realization causes me to want to work harder with my basement riding so that the first ride outdoors goes well. For the sake of real people facing real challenges my faith training MUST also go to the next level.
One place I am starting is to prayer for a different country each day. This way I am reminded that God is not all about me, but that I am to be all about the people He has created--everywhere. Operation World has a great resource www.operationworld.org/join_prayer-movement. From this page you can sign up to receive an email each day with a different country highlighted. I have been going for 64 days now and it has certainly gotten my heart and praying out of the "basement."
Join me out on the road?
-Ken
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Time to Grow Up
The Wisconsin and Indiana legislatures are not teaching the lesson that I would want my kids to learn. The lesson they seem to be teaching is, "If the game is not going your way, then take your ball and go home." What ever happened to fight the good fight, play hard until the final buzzer, and run through the finish line? The essence of good sportsmanship is also the essence of good politics.
Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if every Big Ten basketball team simply left the court whenever they got behind Ohio State by 15 points? Or if teams in the ACC refused to come out of the locker room for the second half just because Duke or UNC was sure to win in the end? We chuckle because such a thing would never happen. The players on the opposing team have too much self-respect and sense of honor. They will play by the rules. That, and if they refuse to play, they will simply forfeit.
The political problem in Wisconsin and Indiana is that no one can declare a forfeit. The absent legislators have the power--misused as it is--to bring the machine to a grinding halt. But having the power does not mean that it is right or proper to use that power.
I can only imagine the rhetoric if it were the other side who had simply walked away and refused to play. They would be painted as villains who were not willing to play by the rules. Wasn't it President Obama himself who said, "Elections have consequences."? If the Wisconsin and Indiana democrats don't like the consequences of the election, then, like honorable legislators for generations before them, they should make their best case to persuade their colleagues, and if that fails, they should take their case to the voters of Wisconsin and Indiana in 2012 and try to return their party to a place where they can pass or block (legitimately) the bills that they care about. Running away solves nothing.
I know the frustration of playing a superior team and having absolutely no reasonable chance of winning. I know how it feels to step into the batter's box where my only hope of getting on base was to get hit by a pitch. I know how it feels to stand at the starting line and know that unless the guy next to me falls, he will finish the 110 meter hurdles while I am still running hard. But I still played. I still batted. I still ran. And if I lost that game or race, it was a driver to get better. Because there would be a next time.
I know the utter frustration of seeing legislation debated and passed that I believe is horribly unfair, unjust, or plain bad for my state or our country. But the answer is not to run away. The honorable response is to do what I can to elect representatives who will support an agenda that I believe is good for Minnesota and for America. To stay in the game. To make my best case. To win or to lose with honor and dignity.
But running away? Grow up kids!
-Ken
Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if every Big Ten basketball team simply left the court whenever they got behind Ohio State by 15 points? Or if teams in the ACC refused to come out of the locker room for the second half just because Duke or UNC was sure to win in the end? We chuckle because such a thing would never happen. The players on the opposing team have too much self-respect and sense of honor. They will play by the rules. That, and if they refuse to play, they will simply forfeit.
The political problem in Wisconsin and Indiana is that no one can declare a forfeit. The absent legislators have the power--misused as it is--to bring the machine to a grinding halt. But having the power does not mean that it is right or proper to use that power.
I can only imagine the rhetoric if it were the other side who had simply walked away and refused to play. They would be painted as villains who were not willing to play by the rules. Wasn't it President Obama himself who said, "Elections have consequences."? If the Wisconsin and Indiana democrats don't like the consequences of the election, then, like honorable legislators for generations before them, they should make their best case to persuade their colleagues, and if that fails, they should take their case to the voters of Wisconsin and Indiana in 2012 and try to return their party to a place where they can pass or block (legitimately) the bills that they care about. Running away solves nothing.
I know the frustration of playing a superior team and having absolutely no reasonable chance of winning. I know how it feels to step into the batter's box where my only hope of getting on base was to get hit by a pitch. I know how it feels to stand at the starting line and know that unless the guy next to me falls, he will finish the 110 meter hurdles while I am still running hard. But I still played. I still batted. I still ran. And if I lost that game or race, it was a driver to get better. Because there would be a next time.
I know the utter frustration of seeing legislation debated and passed that I believe is horribly unfair, unjust, or plain bad for my state or our country. But the answer is not to run away. The honorable response is to do what I can to elect representatives who will support an agenda that I believe is good for Minnesota and for America. To stay in the game. To make my best case. To win or to lose with honor and dignity.
But running away? Grow up kids!
-Ken
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