Team Shawn and Amy

Shawn cycled with me a couple of days ago. It was the first time in a month. Our schedules haven't worked to enjoy a ride together. By that, I mean that Shawn hates going at the time I go, and I find it too difficult as the mother of nine, to go at any other time.

I get up at 4:45 AM and feed the baby until 5:45 AM. Monday through Saturday, I leave on my ride at 6:00 AM. It takes me an hour and forty minutes to get my 25 miles in, so I am home by 7:45 AM to start breakfast. Shawn is just getting up at that time and gathering everyone for scriptures and prayer. We realized long ago that our sleep requirements are very different. If I get more than 5-6 hours of sleep, I am useless, overtired, and apathetic. Shawn is just the opposite, if he gets any less than 8 hours of sleep, he has the same results. Early morning riding didn't appeal to Shawn at all because of either the cut into his sleep time, or the mandatory earlier bedtime it would require.

Despite his distaste for an early ride, we each compromised on the departure time and decided that we'd go at 6:30 AM. He was groggy and found it difficult to perform well. Out of frustration he said he wanted to go home about five miles into the ride because I was so far ahead of him most of the time. He hasn't ridden in a month, I reminded him. I became more conscientious of where he was behind me and decided to slow down. He continued on and finished out the ride.

After the ride, and throughout the day, he complained of being absolutely drained of energy. I ended up taking all the kids for a drive with me to Provo to bring Aura's scriptures to her on the BYU campus, as she forgot them that morning in her haste to leave for EFY. Christian drove us down there in the Excursion. I was so impressed with his calm focus under the stress of crying kids, road barricades, traffic congestion, dark, and lack of an address on campus...but that's another story. Our absence and the quiet that ensued, allowed Shawn to go to bed early and catch up on much needed sleep.

Because of his exhaustion, I assumed he wouldn't want to go again the next day, so I went alone again at my 6:00 AM time. When I got home he said he had gotten ready to leave at 6:30 and was disappointed that I'd already gone, so disappointed in fact, he went back to bed :) I apologized for my assumption. I made sure to wake him up the next day to go with me again.

We rode together and I made a greater effort to watch his pace. Halfway through the ride we had a brief upset and exchange of frustrations. I complained that his pace was too erratic , he complained that I was holding back. As with all our disagreements, a two minute burst of passion is all it takes to voice the problem and clear it up. We immediately agreed that we each have unique strengths in riding. He is incredible at the hard riding--steep, brutal, short bursts of power, I am a distance, endurance rider, requiring a good pace that allows strength over long periods of time and conserving power for a strong finish. When our skills are combined, we equal one phenomenal rider. Such is our marriage, really.

With four miles left of the ride, I hit a rock that caused an immediate and completely flat tire. Shawn had the tube changed out and the bike ready to go in under five minutes. I could have changed it if it had happened while I was alone, but it would have taken me at least 30 minutes!

After the ride, when Shawn went into the office to work, the kids and I spent several hours yesterday morning digging through a long lost plastic tub of family photos. I came across an article about Shawn from 1990 when he was 17 years old. I'd read it before and he told me the story years ago, but it wasn't until reading it again, and having years of first hand knowledge and understanding about Shawn, that I really appreciated the inspiration I had while reading.

Shawn and a friend had hiked to the top of Rock Canyon in Provo in t-shirts and shorts on a December afternoon. They planned to rappel down. They rappelled partway down a sheer cliff ledge and accidentally cut their rope on a rock. This shortened their rope considerably and made it so they could not complete their descent to the canyon floor. They were stranded on a cliff ledge for hours and were very cold when it got dark. They yelled, sang loudly, and flashed help signals with a flashlight. Someone saw their light and called police. An eight man rescue team brought them down off of the cliff. The ignominy of the situation was only heightened by the article in the paper in which their names were used.

In all the years I have known Shawn, he has always had a strong penchant for preparedness. Everywhere we go, everything we do, he is always more than prepared with everything from first aid, to food and water, money, to gear and back up supplies. It hit me yesterday, that he learned this lesson on that cliff ledge twenty years ago. I talked to the kids about it as we looked at pictures. They know how prepared he is too, so the lesson seemed very obvious to them as well. When Shawn returned from work, he passed me holding a new bike tube and several CO2 cartridges on his way to put them in my underseat bike pack. It reminded me to tell him about the observation I made. I got the article out and he re-read it. He said he had never consciously thought about when he started being so prepared, but realized that the experience had changed his life and did teach him the life-saving importance of being temporally prepared.

This morning we rode together again. This time we were both conscientious of our pace and were enjoying our shared ride. I was listening to the Book of Mormon on my ipod, and was at Alma 32. I had just summited a long hill and was resting happily on a descent. I was completely engrossed and enraptured in Alma's sermon on angels ministering to men, women, and children and a discourse on faith being like a seed that when planted and nourished, grows to a great tree from whence the fruit of eternal life can be picked. I was in such a state of reverie, pedalling along at 30 mph, that I did not hear Shawn when he yelled to me. I didn't know that he was trying to get my attention, until I caught the blur of something orange in my peripheral vision, and turned my head. Shawn was pedaling furiously to catch up to me on a newly finished road that had not been open the day before. It paralleled the road I was on, with a rocky park strip between us. He was excitedly yelling "Amy! Watch out!" and pointing ahead. I looked ahead and saw a concrete barrier spanning the entire road in front of me with no way around it. I grabbed hold of my brakes and squeezed as hard as I could, praying I could stop in time. I stopped about five feet short of slamming it head on.

I stood there, staring at the thick, 2.5 foot gray wall in front of me. I was stunned and speechless, then the tears came. I couldn't believe I had not even noticed the danger up ahead. How could I have not seen or noticed a concrete wall? If Shawn had not gotten my attention and warned me of the danger, I would have hit it with tremendous force. There is no doubt it would have done some serious damage to me and my bike.

Shawn was also surprised I didn't see the concrete wall, but noticed that I seemed to be smiling and enjoying myself, caught up in the moment. He noticed that my eyes were on the road directly in front of me, and not on the horizon and what was ahead. I was reminded of the need to not only be aware of the immediate choices and decisions of the moment, but to look beyond them often, to the eternal perspective, the big picture, the vast vision of the future ahead to better make course corrections in the moment that would facilitate the safe arrival at the pre-determined course in the distance.

When I got back on my bike and started again, this time on the parallel road next to Shawn, my mind took in the many applications for this experience. I realized that I had just been greatly humbled. I wasn't aware that I had been in such a state of pride. The pride I suffered is one of independence. I can get that way from time to time. I had been riding on my own for the last month and was confident in my own ability. I also thought of those parallel roads. They were both going the same direction, but one was deadly. What a metaphor. This experience reminded me how much I do need Shawn and how great we are for, and with, each other. Sometimes he warns me of a danger I don't notice, and sometimes it is me warning him. This state of interdependence is the whole point of marriage. We do make an incredible team.
Today I will be thinking about the blessing that is my marriage to Shawn, the big picture, humility, and interdependence. I feel so grateful and blessed I was spared physical trauma or death and have the luxury of contemplating these truths. I will also continue to ponder the importance of not only spiritual preparedness, but temporal preparedness as well. It does take both to achieve any kind of real safety of body, mind and spirit.