Defeat and Triumph

This blog post is kind of an addendum to the chronicles of our camping trip.  It zeroes in on what took place Monday night - both for me - and what John was able to witness Monday night back in Eugene.

Beginning with me - I started hurting about halfway through the day.  This time, it was sinus pressure causing the headache - but it was escalating fast so by the time we got to the campground, I was just a shell of myself trying to set up camp through the pain.  I retreated into the tent before dinner, taking an ice pack from the cooler with me and dwelling on these thoughts...

- Why did I only pack the limited pain meds that I did?
- If I take more right now, will I have enough to last if every day of our trip feels like this day?
- Do the pain meds even help any more?
- If I put a Thermacare patch on my face and an icepack on my neck, will that help?
- Am I candidate for Sinoplasty? (or whatever that's called) - as it only feels like it's getting worse.
- I'm pretty sure I have seasonal allergies now - as this congestion is never ending....and if not, what is my problem?
- And, most specifically, how long will this last?  Is this my lot for this camping trip?  Why?  When I'm doing something I love so much, why can't I feel okay? 

I felt VERY SORRY for myself.  I prayed a lot.  I was sad. 

After a "kind-of-nap", I joined the fam for dinner and then soon after, retreated back in to the tent with the rain (which was FINE by me, as that's where I wanted to be anyway....and at least I could be in the company of my family now).

That's when the texts started coming in from John.  (Ironically, the best cell reception I had in the site was in my little corner of the tent).

Simultaneously, he was at the Olympic Track and Field Trials in Eugene.  I will have to get a good picture-laden post up of his experience - pretty amazing and special considering he was gifted with four top-notch, VIP tickets.  When given the choice as to which event to pick to go to, it was a no brainer - the Javelin Finals.  Because, one of our UO grads was competing, Cyrus Hostettler - and hopefully to end the day knowing he'd be headed to London.

We've known Cyrus since we first started with CCF.  Here's a picture of him helping Mikayla to fly at our first Winema retreat. 

He is a special guy and a hugely dedicated athlete.  Just last week, it was announced Nike was sponsoring him...a ginormous dream come true for this guy, but nothing compared to being Olympics bound.

So, we communicated through texts to see his progress through the night.  He made it into finals, but wasn't throwing like he wanted.  First throw in finals, not so good.  Second and third, not really either.

Here's the text dialogue from John: (and my responses)

"Pray for Cyrus, he needs it"
    (Praying right now)
"He's not going to London =("
   (So sad, heart is breaking for him)
"So sad"
   (=( )
then, after another 7 minutes....
"Hold on"
"I hear that he may be going after all"
  (keep me posted)
"I will love"
"HE'S GOING!!!!!!"
"PRAISE THE LORD!"

As a quick explanation, Cyrus did end up in fifth place for the throws on Monday night, but the top three did not achieve the "A Standard" necessary for competing at the Olympics.  Cyrus has already accomplished that goal at the PanAm games last summer.  So, because he was eligible and they weren't, he was Olympics-bound.  John said that even though he knew that could be the possibility, but if you were sitting in the stands watching the top three wave their American flags in victory and seeing the total dejected-ness from Cyrus, you'd have absolutely believed he wasn't going and they were.  It took a while to work itself all out - and then, John snapped this picture and texted it to me when it became clear Cyrus was London-bound.

We all cheered and celebrated for Cyrus in our tent - especially after having grieved for him for over five minutes.  John was able to meet up with him later that evening, and even though he was disappointed with his performance, he was ecstatic to be an Olympian representing the United States of America.  

Throughout the night, as I woke up intermittently assessing my pain and recognizing it wasn't gone yet, I thought of Cyrus and his victory.  When I woke up Tuesday morning, I too, felt victory.  It was tentative, as I worried the pain would return with vengeance at any moment.  I was actually worrisome all day for it to kick in (what a waste).  But, instead, God had given me a victory - in that pain didn't steal my personality or experiences again for the rest of our trip.  

Sometimes, defeat, even though painful - can make victory that much more profound.