"The Numbers Fell off the Clockface..."

In my last post I wrote about how I sensed the Lord's discipline in frustrations with my bike in the past few months. What tipped me off to the notion that there was some particular divine purpose in it all were some conspicuous numbers. Conspicuous to me anyway. Augustine said,

"The Divine Wisdom is reflected in the numbers impressed on all things. The construction of the physical and moral world is based on eternal numbers." -Apparently in a commentary on the Psalms 

As one who sees numbers spatially, and who believes that God communicates directly and deeply with the spirits of his children, I have a theory that sometimes God intervenes in my life, and perhaps in the world in general, in numerically significant patterns.


Anyways, what caught my attention was the realization that the accident that broke my bicycle frame happened 60 hours to the minute before I turned 33 years old. It was 8:46 AM on Saturday August 6, and I was born at 8:46 PM on August 8. What does 60 hours mean? Nothing in and of itself, but considering the numerical significance of the circumstances surrounding my acquiring the bike to begin with made me start to wonder.  The timing of my "pro contract" with Paul has set the number 33 in my mind for most of the year, and it keeps popping up in peculiar ways, even in the past month of cycling, which has largely been frustrating for me. Consider these numbers from four of my biggest rides of the past month:

• At 24 hours of booty, I passed 333.3 km 12 hours 12 minutes into riding, and considered stopping, but continued on to finish with 13 hours 88 seconds, with an average heart rate of 130 and 13th place on the hill climb section (now that I'm writing this I've dropped to 26th place and am one second behind the fastest woman. Interesting). I'm not superstitious about the number 13, but that's weird. 
• The crash on August 6 occurred exactly 60 hours before I turned 33.
• The ride back from a meeting with a close friend and valued counselor the day I dropped my phone on Cherry Rd (yet another frustration) was exactly 3:00:00 of ride time and 3:33:03 elapsed time, after stopping for a drink and a new cell phone. I'm not making that up and it was unplanned and unknown by me until I uploaded the ride data from the Garmin.  
• The ride of Tega Cay this past Sunday turned out to be 99.93 miles. The planned route was just under 98 miles, but that changed when we ran out of fluid (twice; Tega Cay has no gas stations), took a wrong turn or two, re-did a road or two, I forgot to turn the GPS on after stopping, John had to get back home and we couldn't stop for dinner, and I decided not to carry on past 100 miles when I neared the house and realized I was a few hundred feet short. I wasn't sure how much I needed since I was reading kilometers on the Garmin. And another thing I almost forgot. When I met John at the bike shop, a customer came in, we told him we weren't really open, but he asked if he could buy a bike, and the price after tax was $333.83.

What does all of this mean? I'm not sure, but as I look back and remember what was going on in my spirit on each of these rides, the numbers correspond quite well. 

• on the booty ride I was frustrated, impatient, and self-absorbed (even moreso than I am all the time:-), greedy for miles. Somewhat pleased with the ride, but not joyful.  
• on August 6 I was tired from long work hours, encouraged to be riding after a week off, but after the crash despondent, though starting to wonder if all my frustrations were more than coincidence
• the day I dropped my phone seemed to encapsulate all of the emotions of this month in one ride. When I started I was running late, frustrated, angry; how I felt at the booty ride. When I dropped my phone I was apprehensive and a little scared since I was riding on an iffy tire on strange roads, but also starting to laugh at yet another material possession falling apart. After meeting with my friend I was hopeful, encouraged, determined to follow through on the day's riding goal and with new optimism for life in general. It was a turning point of sorts, and all the 3s made me smile when I reviewed the ride data.
• On Sunday I was excited, looking forward to the ride for the physical and geographical challenge (some of the routes through the neighborhoods were rather serpentine), and anticipating a big haul of elevation for the Strava climbing competition. That and John is one of my favorite people to ride with. He keeps it real. The verse from Mark 1 also was looming in my mind, and I was looking forward to pondering the straight paths of the Lord as we wound our way through some very crooked and steep roads. God gave fresh insight into his word, and plenty of strength for one of the hardest rides I've ever done, and by the end of the eight hours of riding, the frustrations seemed to make sense and there was a sense of resolution and completion.  

The Scriptural insight will have to wait for another post, but I think the gist of what I'm learning (or re-learning, as is often the case) is that the cracked frames, dropped phones, long miles in sweltering heat with not enough water, unrecorded riding miles, and unfinished centuries of life (read into those metaphors what most disappoints and irks you) are all part of the way God makes His children like their big brother. If that makes no sense to you, here's some food for thought. I'll try to explain more next time I write.  


And here's a song that's also been on my mind this year with all these thoughts about threes, followed by pictures of my latest progress on the roads of York County. "three thirty three, and the numbers fell off the clockface...". More on that here and here. 


Rides with new roads in August:

 Rides with new roads in July and August:

End of August year to date (roads ridden are in red):