I have to say I am so happy to tell you that I am in pain. My hip, my knee, my calf, my arms, my thumb and my neck are all very sore right now.
Why would I be happy about that?
I went for a quick 10 mile bike ride this afternoon. At the intersection of Hwy 42 and Eagles Landing Parkway, after coming down a good sized hill headed north on Hwy 42 at about 30 miles per hour, I tried to take a right hand turn.
Note I said "tried."
As I was turning, my back wheel slid out underneath me and I took a nasty spill and slid all the way across all lanes. Yep, I slid across all lanes.
So perhaps now you understand why I am happy to tell you that I am in pain. I was blessed that there were no cars coming through the intersection at the time, otherwise, I would have become what I described to my children as "splatty daddy."
I can remember it as if it were in slow motion and yet it happened so quickly. I can feel my skin and my hands running across the rough payment until I came to a stop. I remember looking up at the man driving his SUV in the opposite lane, separated by the median. I remember thinking my hands were going to look like ground beef. Thanks to my gloves, they did not.
Then I remembered I was in the middle of a busy road and I better get my behind out of it.
I got up, picked the bike up and walked over to the sidewalk. After seizing up the injuries to myself and inspecting the bike, which had almost no damage. I decided to try to ride.
I thought to myself that I should just stop and call Stensen to pick me up. But then I thought of something that I saw in a recent video that Gary Bikoski, one of the execs in my company, recently shared. It was a quote that stuck with me.
"You are already in pain. You might as well get something from it."
Of course I could've quit. But if I did, I would not have gotten what I wanted out of my ride. I had a specific outcome in mind around the exercise and the enjoyment of riding. Although I did realize that with the pain, the enjoyment probably wouldn't be there, but I could still get the much needed exercise.
So I rode the 7 miles back home. In pain.
And yes, it was worth it.
So often we give up when the challenge becomes too hard, or is too much work, and yes, even when it is too painful. We may not even think we can go on or that we can make our goals. And if we stop at those moments, we succumb to defeat not because we can't, but because we think we can't.
It's true at work, in our personal relationships, in our spiritual journeys, and even on bike rides. We should not limit our thinking or our actions. We then limit our outcomes.
I want the best outcomes for me and those I know and work with. So I cannot stop just because something hurts, or because it is hard. Those are the times I must be my best.
There are some pix below that show me and my injuries after the ride. If you are sensitive to blood stuff, I recommend you don't look at them. They are not gruesome, but there is blood.