Get Aero, Son.

Florida is flat. It’s surprisingly difficult to ride on flat roads. There is no coasting. No climbing. No shifting in the saddle. No standing. No downhills. Just flat. It is the constant of revolutions as your legs roll over the crank again and again. Pushing. Pushing. And pushing. Then a dull ache creeps into your quads. A small fire constantly burning. There is no reprieve of the downhill. It’s a constant push. A constant burn. Your endurance is tested at 85 revolutions per minute.

Can you keep pushing? Can you ignore the constant fire in your legs? Or will you quit? These are the questions you keep asking yourself…

If you stop pushing, then you lose momentum. And it requires even more effort to get it back. Once you go it up, you have to keep it up. The only thing keeping you going is the thought of one day finding the top step of the podium. The thought of looking over your shoulder and watching the next guy crack. The thought of out sprinting the next guy to the line. All of these things make the burn worth it. They all make the constant ache more tolerable. In fact, you push harder and harder. Spinning fast and faster. And your endurance is tested.

It’s the endurance of hope. A small fire burning somewhere inside of you. Causing you to push harder and harder. It burns and burns. Some days it burns brighter than others, fueled by many things. Other days it is barely lit, but it’s still there. Still burning. Consuming the thoughts of a future glory. Of one day standing before the father and hearing him say well done. And it’s with this future glory we push and push and ignore the dull ache.

This thing called hope burns inside of us. Sometimes it’s a dull ache. A small fire. But it always burns. And we push and push. We ignore the pain for this thing called hope. It drives us forward.

It’s the hope of one day standing in heaven knowing when the time has come we outsprinted everyone else. It’s the hope of knowing when all is said and done, we are standing on the top step of the podium.

So when it hurts. Or when the ache creeps up. Or when the fire threatens our ability to keep going. We lean forward. Grip the handle bars and get aero, son.

Because when you get aero, you do work. You’re telling everyone else it hurts and it’s hard, but you’re not stopping. In fact, since it hurts, you’re just going to go ahead and make it unbearable. Make it hurt as much as possible. Because there are times when the thought of a future glory makes the pain and the hurt and the fire so very worth it.

We continually remember before our God and Father your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

What are you hoping for?

Drink coffee. Body surf. Get aero, son.