Make it small, but significant

After my big bonk last week, I spent the following days with a badly bruised leg, a ton of small scratches on my back and a feeling of defeat.  One of my coworkers comically asked me after seeing all of my new "owies" if I still liked riding and mentioned maybe I should take a few days off from being in the saddle to let my body heal.  At first I shrugged off her suggestion, and then decided it might be a good idea.  A few days off might do me some real good.

So as my cycling friends were getting ready for a weekend training ride, I let them know that I wouldn't be joining them on this one.  They said they understood and that I would be missed.  When Saturday morning rolled around I was wide awake when they would have been leaving, and I was laying in bed thinking about their ride.  It was going to be a little over 60 miles with a wicked head wind for the at least half of the route and they would be baking in some pretty good heat.

I knew what it was like to be on those rides and I know how sometimes a small gesture turns into a big one when you have been our there for hours.  From someone sharing some extra water or energy gel, or another rider helping you set a pace up the hill that seems so long - it is the small things that mean the most on and off the bike.

So I called up my friend Jen and asked if she wanted to take a short road trip with me.  I had some peanut butter cake-brownies that I had baked a few days before that needed to eaten and two cowbells that needed to be rang, and I knew just the folks who would benefit from both that day.  Jen and I took off and I tried to time it to about when the group would be going through Balltown.  I knew we were also taking the chance that they may have switched routes or taken different roads than orginally planned, but we continued down the road anyway.

We got up to Balltown and hadn't seen the group yet, and as we pulled over to park and wait at the overlook, Jen and I got to enjoy the view surrounding us.  We watched as motocycles and other cyclists road by, we learned the cows below did not care for my cowbell ringing skills, and we played photographer for a group visiting the area from Des Moines.  We sat in the warm sun and waited.  After awhile without spotting the group, we decided to head back to Dubuque and to instead leave the treats and noise makers in one of their cars.

Even the cowbells enjoyed the view while waiting in Balltown

We found our friend Eric's truck at the trailhead, and I quickly wrote up a note of support and congrats and left everything in the bed of his pickup.  Then Jen and I went on with our day by doing some shopping and grabbing lunch.  It was while we were at Red Robin that we got the text that treats had been found and enjoyed!  Later that night, Eric told us how he found the goodies as everyone was packing up and he said they really loved having something to snack on before heading back to their homes.  Again, it was something small, but significant.

I think there are times in life when all we need is something small to make a big impact on us and our day/week/life.  A small compliment, card of thanks, or a genuine gesture of care, can truly make a change that we needed right at that moment.  It doesn't matter if it comes in the form of sweet treats, a facebook message or a hug - all that matters is the idea that someone was thinking of you and wanted to make sure you knew it.  To help be a rainbow in someone's cloud.  To be a friend.

Eric then continued to talk about the ride that day and we discovered that Jen and I had left about 5-10 minuets before they came into Balltown.  But Eric expressed how cool our idea had been, and how the gesture had not lost it's impact regardless if we had waited or not.

There would always be some direct hits and some near misses, but the idea that the effort was made is what will always stick with someone.  That you cared enough to even to try.  That you went out of your way to try and make someone else smile that day.  That is what matters the most.