Nine Miles An Hour

This is a really odd article, even odder (more odd?) than most of my stuff. It’s an entry into a contest—sort of. I’ll explain that part later.

I’m a big fan of Donald Miller. I read his blog regularly, and I just completed his latest book A Million Miles In A Thousand Years. Don’s the writer I want to be when I grow up. He writes beautifully and with conviction about what he knows, and transparently about his failures, insecurities, and weaknesses. Don also has a chocolate lab named Lucy who writes some of his blog posts for him. I’ve been trying to get Monte to do something similar, but he just looks at me, shakes his goofy-looking ears, and brings a tennis ball for me to throw.

Anyway, Don’s hosting a conference based on Million Miles and he’s offering a free trip to the conference as a prize. And please don’t think I’m gushing over his work just to win, because I’m only “sort of entering” anyway.

Story

Million Miles is about looking at your life as a story. The content is about the components of an interesting story and how Don learned to edit his life. The challenge is to write a better story with your own life. And the contest I’m “sort of entering” involves explaining a specific story I want to live.

Don says a story is about a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it. That notion resonates with me—I’ve been through that cycle a few times.

  • I wanted to get my life back after a spinal cord injury caused permanent paralysis. I mostly had to overcome my own resistance and depression to find the path God had in mind, and it only took ten years!
  • I wanted to exercise. I discovered hand cycling and cranked a thousand miles in one summer.
  • I wanted to re-connect with a lady I hadn’t seen or talked to in over twenty years. Fear, anxiety, and distance gave way and made room for a wonderful eight-year (and counting) marriage.
  • I wanted to tell my story, so I published Relentless Grace. I was a math teacher with no writing experience—amazing what happens when you get your self-imposed limitations out of the way and let God work.

One thing about interesting stories, though, is that even a string of good ones doesn’t guarantee continued interest. Even the best character has to keep seeking and confronting challenges. So this is about a new chapter, the next obstacle.

What’s Next?

I write a lot about my hand cycle. Despite physical limitations that constrain speed and distance, I love the freedom and sense of accomplishment of cycling. I’ve set and reached goals that seemed impossible, but one crazy notion has rattled around unresolved for several years.

Ever since the first summer when I cranked a thousand miles on the Fort Collins bike trails, I’ve dreamed of doing some kind of long distance ride. I wrote a post about it (The Crazy Quest) more than a year ago, and I’ve actually been kind of puzzled about what’s keeping me from acting. But now I think I get it.

I’ve been focusing on the wrong story and the wrong conflict.

I thought the story was the bike ride and the conflict was the physical challenge of completing it. But I’m actually pretty sure I can do the ride. Not that it’ll be easy, but with the right support I believe I can do it.

And there’s the REAL conflict—getting the support. I don’t know how to get the help required.

See, I don’t just want to do the ride. I want to speak to people along the way at schools and churches and service organizations. I want to get people to support the ride with pledges that’ll go to a couple of worthy causes. I’ve even got a name in mind: GIVE ‘EM HOPE: A 9 mph journey toward hope and possibility.

But thinking about the logistical issues makes my brain fog over.

  • Time. I can only ride forty to fifty miles on good days, and they’re not all good days.
  • Organization. For a quadriplegic, extended travel presents logistical challenges involving specialized equipment, accessible facilities, medical care, and transportation. A military regiment moves with fewer organizational headaches.
  • Sponsors. I can’t afford to fund several weeks’ lodging, food, transportation, and equipment. Most cost-saving alternatives such as camping or staying with friends are impossible due to accessibility issues. I need help contacting and securing sponsors.
  • Entourage. I can’t make such a trip alone. I need someone to ride with me, since I can’t do even the simplest repairs, and someone would have to drive a support vehicle.
  • Speaking arrangements. I’m good at doing these sorts of events, but I’m terrible at setting them up. I have no clue how to contact people in distant towns and convince them that inviting me to speak is a good idea. Scheduling alone seems like an impossible obstacle.
  • Fund raising. Soliciting and managing donations feels like a full-time task, and I’m going to be riding a bike.

It’s just nuts to imagine that an old, bald guy who’s paralyzed below his chest can cycle from, say, Duluth to Houston, raising money and speaking to church, school, and civic groups in small and large towns along the way. Right?

So I’m the character and this crazy trip is what I want. The obstacle—I need to find some folks who buy in to the vision of this insane project, and who happen to know how to help with the logistical challenges. That’s the story I want to live.

The Contest

So what’s this about “sort of entering” the contest?

Well, I can’t attend the conference because I’m leading a men’s retreat that weekend in the Colorado mountains. So I probably can’t win.

So why enter? In writing lingo it’s what’s called an inciting incident, an event in the story that forces the character to change or move. I’m hoping that putting this out there will push me into confronting my fear of asking for help.

And who knows what might happen? I might find someone who knows something about this kind of undertaking, or someone who knows someone who’d like to help.

And maybe I might win anyway. If that happened, I’d send my wife. She’s working on re-writing her life story also, and I know she would get a lot of insight from Don’s conference. And she deserves it—she puts up with me and my crazy dreams.

And I’m hoping that this will be an inciting incident for you. What’s the story you want to live?

If you’re curious about Don’s conference, here’s a video with some information:

Living a Better Story Seminar from All Things Converge Podcast on Vimeo.

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