Testing Positive

This morning a friend and I were discussing positive attitudes. I am a positive person. My friend is equally positive in her outlook on things. She and I can laugh and chat and laugh some more, encourage each other, gig each other, pat each other on the back, and even point out some humor in each other's daily trials and tribulations. That's one reason we are such good friends.

My Mom and Dad are the ultimate positive thinkers and believers:
"You can do it."
"Yes, you can!"
"We knew you could do it!"
"That's just great!"
"Tell her/him/them that we're proud of them!"
(I think Mom & Dad raised us on Norman Vincent Peale: The Power of Positive Thinking)

Today I manned a SAG station for a local cycling fundraiser: We enjoyed glorious cool weather in the early morning:
55º and sunny. No wind.

Uh-oh. Kansas being Kansas, by the time these cyclists hit their halfway point (32 miles), the wind had reared its ugly NNE headwind. All in time for the erstwhile happy cyclists to head home, back to the bike barn.

By the time they returned to my SAG station, with 11 miles of 25-mph headwind to go, these guys and gals were not smiling. Not even poker-faced. The cyclists arrived off the road grimacing. They would drop their beloved bikes and fall into the grass to stretch out their aching leg and back muscles.

As each stumbled off his/her bike, I would amble over and say, "How're y'all doing?" This, to ascertain whether I should call 911 and begin triage, or simply chitchat till the cyclist in question regained composure, and could limp over to the food/rehydration table.

For the most part, I left each cyclist with at least a glimmer of a smile on his/her face. I regaled some with my tale of ending a Century, being the last one off the White Sands Missile Range after 104 miles. And some, with descriptions of our weekly Pancake Rides. Others, I cheered on with "momilies" about my kids, all three fun athletes, where they were, what they do. Somehow the thought of a 50 year old cyclist, and groups of cyclists, and tales of teen-age and twenty-something cyclists, seem to allay the present pain of more miles and wind...and more miles.

At some point in my busy day, a local fellow pulled up in his white pick-up. He hopped out, seeming to have a mission. Something did not set right with this. He called out to anyone who would listen, "Who is in charge here?" I walked over to him, and he proceeded to question me whether our cycling organization had paid for the community facilities. I noticed his tremendously bloodshot eyes, his pale stare, his unkempt appearance. I smiled and began a friendly and positive chat that we, the cyclist community, had indeed paid for the use of those grounds for the day. Then he mentioned the dangers of cyclists riding on the roads which semi-trucks gravel trucks share, and I continued on, sharing an anecdote that a cyclist earlier in the morning had shared, that she intended to deliver home-baked brownies to this mentioned quarry, since the truck drivers were attentive and safe when it came to sharing the road.

Well! That fellow, having lost ammunition, walked back to his pick-up. I smiled and waved like we were best friends, and walked back to the 15-or-more cyclists who had been watching (or guarding). They asked if everything was OK, and I replied that he just needed information about cyclists. That's all...

Back to my friend and our chat? She cheers me when I am overwhelmed. I cheer her when she is disgusted and irritated. She has a husband, two kids, I have a husband, three kids, and we share stories. Some of what we two share is our power of positive thinking.

Can we ALL attempt to grasp the power of positive thinking?