BMX

I thought I had it all figured out.  I was wrong.  But I was also right.
The first time Matt showed me his custom BMX bike collection, I was in awe.  Five shiny BMX bikes in his home just screamed #RAD, Ride Me!, 80’s nostalgia!
Because he loves me, he allowed me to ride his white custom Diamondback; it looked un-rideable.  He took the black one.  And one of our best dates was a BMX freestyle ride all around downtown Birmingham.
When the ride was over, the bikes went back into his home, into their collection, into seclusion.  Something about that didn’t sit well with me.  So when Matt mentioned to me that Albe’s was going to host X Games mogul Mat Hoffman, along with several BMX bikes, I suggested we go display his.
He was dubious.  He felt out of his league.
So I got to thinking…
BMX.  Be More “X”.  I wondered about Mat Hoffman and his journey into the X Games.
What separates those of us who desire to do something, from those of us that actually do?  There’s this certain “X” factor, right?  Let’s call it courage, or mojo, or inspiration.  Whatever it is, we’ve all got it.  It’s there.  Ready for the taking.
Like this opportunity for Matt.
When we pulled up in front of Albe’s, we noticed that most of the people there were not…like us.  Matt again, felt out of his league, and needed a few minutes to gather his “X” factor before getting ready to go in.
Needless to say, his bikes were a HIT.  In my biased and loving opinion: the best ones there.  They even caught the eye of “The Condor” Mat Hoffman.
I thought the story would end there.  I was wrong.  But I was also right.
It turns out, I needed my own “X” factor this week.
Two rocky things demanded that I step up my own X Games.
First: I was caught in a precarious situation at work.  I needed to have a very difficult meeting. All week long, anxiety bricked itself in the pit of my stomach, and insomnia became my bedtime companion.
The following thoughts kept creeping into my subconscious: how do I handle this?  Do I take the offensive?  Defensive?  Do I act pro-actively?  Re-actively?  Eventually, I got sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I decided to channel my “X” factor and hold court at my own damn meeting.  So I did.  I took the reigns.  I directed the conversation.  I told certain people when to talk and others when to listen.  And within 10 minutes, everything was resolved.  Because I was resolved.  Somebody had to step up.
Turns out I needed a lot of “X” that day.  And more for the rest of the week.
Second: Mady had been complaining of migraines.  Two trips to the pediatrician’s office elicited nothing except a new “headache diary”…(which, actually, could be the title of my blog.)
When her vision turned double, I got worried.  The doctor said, if the double-vision got worse, I needed to get her into the ER.  That happened.
Eric was kind enough to take care of all things Lance for two days, so that I could stay with Mady.  Control.  Resolve.  Take the reigns.  Channel X.
But I totally fell apart when they took her back for the MRI, and I was left alone in a waiting room, having flashbacks of mom’s cancer screens.  The worst came to mind.  I fell apart.  I totally fell apart in that waiting room.  And I let myself go. Mady was in good hands.  I kept it together for her.  There was no bad news, yet.  Other parents had it much worse in this waiting room.
When my sobbing and fear subsided, I took a deep breath.  I needed some “X” , so that when she came back to me, I’d be able to hold her together–more so than the snaps and ties on her over-sized hospital gown.
The MRI came back clear.  Phew.  But we were not out of the woods,  just yet.
Mady needed blood-work: for kids, this is the equivalent of a beheading.  I played it cool.  “It doesn’t hurt that badly…You’ll be fine…It’ll be over in ten seconds.”  Nothing worked.  Mady sobbed and refused to get out from her fetal position in the car.
We were both stuck.  My “X” factor wasn’t cutting it.  She needed her own.
So I appealed to just that.  I told her that sometimes in life, we have to do things we don’t want to do, but they’re necessary.  I told her to muster her courage.  I told her how many times Grammie Lee had to get poked, and how it sucks, but how proud Grammie Lee would be of her.  I told her other kids had to get more pokes and needles and had scarier things to endure than this.
I told her I’d give her $20 if she did it.
And she did it.
Life’s hard.  Life is an “X Game” itself.  So play it cool.  Ride it out.  Get your own “X” factor when you need it.  Don’t allow it to lie dormant like Matt’s bikes.  Because the world needs to see it.
(*Matt said his bikes are like classic Ferrari’s and therefore are not being put back into seclusion, but rather safe-keeping. *)

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3 Comments

  1. Erin
    March 31, 2017 / 1:47 pm

    I love you blog. And I really love you.

    • Erin
      March 31, 2017 / 1:48 pm

      Your blog, your blog. Clearly I am not ready for a blog.

  2. Heather Kelly
    April 2, 2017 / 12:33 pm

    Omg! This is amazing! I’m channeling my inner X right now & attempting to redesign the art department!
    & you can write!!! Pure brilliance!

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