Sullivan’s record a feat all of its own [COLUMN]

Published 2:26 pm Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Could you imagine riding a boke this close to an 18-wheeler? Me neither. But Terri Sullivan did it. (Contributed)

Could you imagine riding a bike this close to an 18-wheeler? Me neither. (Contributed)

I have the utmost respect for Terri Sullivan.

The feat of her riding across the state on a bicycle for 12 hours is amazing. I still struggle with riding across my neighborhood without being chased by a dog, losing my brakes going down a hill or getting off balance and slamming into a group of trash cans.

With her ride, however, dogs and trash cans were the least of her worries. She was concerned with, you know, not getting run over by an 18-wheeler while not being able to see five feet in front of her.

I’ve traveled a lot of roads in this state. They aren’t all conducive to cars and trucks with four-wheel drive, let alone bicycle riding.

And yet, she did it without so much as a flat tire.

It’s an amazing testament to the strength and wonder of the connection between the body and the mind.

She fought headwinds, dehydration, cramping and the natural human desire to stop doing something uncomfortable to shatter the record by close to three hours.
It makes you really stop to think about what we all could do, if we just tired and committed to seeing it out.

I’m not pointing fingers, as I’m as guilty as anyone. I have trouble finishing movies, let alone pushing my body to its max and even farther.

But after talking to Terri, I am seriously re-examining my mental fortitude.

I can’t imagine what was going through her mind as she pressed on into the darkness, with only a vehicle a few miles in front of her to scout the land, and her crew behind her to help with lamps and tires.

The thought of having to wrench another mile out of an already-exhausted body is incredible. I can imagine going as far as she did.

She’s a wonderful example of getting outside your comfort zone see what you’re really capable of accomplishing.

It’s hard to fathom, Shelby County. But It’s a great lead to follow.

All we’ve got to do is simply but the rubber to the road — literally, or otherwise.