There seems to be many things we have grown accustomed to, obliged to concurred to, all with little thought or contemplation. Subconsciously however, in the closets of our minds,that dark processing rooms where access is gained by submersion into the recess of our true self via meditation locks questions and challanges to the status quo. Biking as led me to champion the cause of the un/under-represented, it has generated in me an acrylic taster for most things main stream…well more specifically most mainstream recreational activities.
Growing up a bomboi (young boy) in Nigeria, soccer was my religion as it was for many, a boy with a soccer ball or an iteration thereof (clothes stuffed into a tailored tire tube, a platic jerrycan heat-molded into a circle/more like a sphere) was akin to the basketball/baseball/football given to every budding boy in the west. Every father wanted his son to be the next Amokachi, Kanu, Pele, Marodona. By the time I discovered Cycling, Soccer and Track had already gifted me with quads the size of a moose.
As a result I have always had mixed feeling about myself physically. Dressed in a tailored shirt and jeans for a night out with the wife I exude self confidence, clad in spandex however is a different story …..Enroute to a bike ride, the constituents of my being are fully alive because here in lies my true passion/my calling but alas a little part of me is not so comfident, my head is not held high, shoulders not square, eyed not holding others afraid to betray. I am 6.2″, 220lbs built more like a rugby player than a cyclist, decent on the flats and on par on the climbs yet as trivial as this should be somedays it weighs heavy (pun intended) on a Clydesdale.
Very few things appeal to me more than “modest abundance” this is my nomenclature for those people who have anabundance of something (skill, possession) but give off no indication whatsoever that they do. Like the millionaire who still drives the1985 Beetle his outfits always consisting of something cammo, or the ultra runner who weighs 195lbs is 5′.7″ shows up to the group run with 3 year old tennis shoes and easily pulls a 6min pace, of this all none gets my juices flowing as much as the cyclist who looks nothing like a strong rider, with his camelback, baggy pants and aviator glasses but drops you right before you leave the parking lot.
As in the natural so in the spirit: What gains more respect than when the most quite person in the group finally speaks up and with a barely audible softspoken voice delivers the most thought-out and profound words spoken through the whole conversation? Oh that person who in very few words gives you advice that shows he has invested more time in his personal relationship with God than you have.
It is always good to remember all that glitters is not gold, we have all been blessed with our individual gifts and talents, skinny dudes for the climbs and hamburgermen like me for the flats and downhills. Someone told me that a good way to return to the anchor “Jesus” is to remember that he has a plan and unless we are stronger than him or able to do something to surprise him there is nothing we can do within our power to upset the plan of God.
Be yourself and let your form perform its function…