The Right Thoughts Riding  in My Mind
 
        When I started riding a bike a couple of years ago, I didn't think
my involvement would ever be more serious than the occasional short ride.
But as I built strength, my friends encouraged me to step up my training
and try some longer trips.

        The first one to come along was a 150-mile trek, the MS-150, an
annual event that raises money to fight multiple sclerosis.

        When I registered, the idea seemed terrific - support a worthy cause
while going for the distance - and I trained with enthusiasm.  But as the
time for the ride approached, my self-doubts gained ground over my
endurance.  I still wanted to raise money for the charity, but I didn't really
want to bike all those miles for two days straight.

        The ride began on a beautiful Sunday morning in the tranquil Georgia
countryside, and for the first few hours I felt wonderful.  This was just the
experience I had imagined, and my spirits were high.  But by the end of the
day, I felt tired and irritable.

        If the body is connected to the mind, here was proof in action.  Every
excuse my brain pushed out seemed to travel right down to my legs. "I can't
handle this," became a leg cramp, and "everyone else is a better rider"
translated into shortness of breath.  I  was sure I'd have to quit.

        As I topped the crest of a hill, the magnificent sunset kept me going for
a few minutes more.  Then in the distance, silhouetted against the bright red
sun, I saw a lone rider pedaling very slowly.  I noticed that the person looked
different in some way, but I couldn't tell why.  So I pushed myself to catch up.
There she was, peddling along slowly but steadily, with a slight and determined
smile on her face - and she had only one leg.

        My focus changed in that instant.  For a whole day I'd been doubting
my body.  But now I knew - it wasn't the body, but the will that would help me
reach my goal.

        It rained all the second day.  I never saw the one-legged biker again, but
I pushed on without complaining, knowing she was out there with me somewhere.
And at the end of the day, still feeling strong,  I completed the 150th mile.
 

                                               By Kathy Higgins
                                from A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul