A Day of Reverence

(February 21st, 2009 Mark Finkel, Myself, Don Finkel)


It’s hard to believe that today, my birthday, marks the day in which I lost my brother and dear friend.

I never realized until recently that time has the ability to simultaneously completely stop yet pass at a speed that is impossible to keep up with.

Below is the eulogy I wrote and delivered at Don’s funeral. I was at a loss of what to write today, but I think this says it all for me. I am honored to share this day with him forever.

As a child, I always looked up to my brother, both metaphorically and literally. At Don’s height and being 9 years younger than him, I had no choice. Also, as an 8 year old, its pretty hard not to idolize a guy who drove a shiny red Camaro, was a starting basketball player, and dated the quintessential beautiful blonde girl. I can remember going to basketball games at Lutheran North and walking around the gymnasium proudly announcing to anyone within ear shot that the tall guy playing forward with Finkel on the back of his jersey was my brother. I wanted to strive to be like him, to walk in his footsteps. And if anyone were to choose what footsteps to follow in, my brother Don’s were an honorably worthy choice.

As I approached adolescence our interests and similarities seemed to diverge, or so I thought. Our priorities were different as well as our lives.

Recently, both my brothers and I helped move my parents up north to Port Hope, MI were they would settle for their happy life of retirement. We had really only planned on helping load the moving truck back at their home here in Macomb and sending them on their way. However, after curiously marveling at the amount of stuff they chose to move up, my brothers and I looked at each other and unanimously agreed we were going to have to follow them up north and help unload the truck. We all had to work the next day, and this venture was going to put us back home around 3:00 in the morning. But it didn’t matter, we had each other and a job to do so we hoped in the car and headed up to the thumb.

This trip proved to be one of the most valuable and pivotal recent times for my myself and my brothers. The journey was nothing short of being worthy of writing a script for a movie. While I still looked up to my brother Don as I did a child, I was now grown. Blessed with virtually the same height as Don, I could now see him eye to eye, once again, both metaphorically and literally. Time seemed to stand still but also pass within an instant during that trip. In talking with my brother eye to eye we further developed and mutual respect and admiration of each other that night. For me, it was the first instant in which I came to the realization that contrary to my previous belief, Don and I were very much alike in many ways. Although our interests and priorities were worlds apart, we shared many of the same personality traits.

The most important of those traits was passion. We both shared the trait of burning passion. Don did not approach any aspect of his life half-heartedly. He was passionate about his work, about his coaching, about his family, his three beautiful boys, the love of his life, Melinda, and most importantly his Lord.

As an athlete, I’ve come to realize that my brother really knew what it meant to be a sportsman. He understood how competition could elevate a person both physically, mentally, and also spiritually. As a coach he strived to instill this in his players and his children. Don took the time to understand my life even though it was different than his, and I was proud to make him proud through everything I did. This past summer, Don was our biggest fan at the second annual Port Hope Kickball tournament. He attended every game in the bracket and cheered from the stands with genuine enthusiasm. I’ll never forget after we won the tournament my brother coming up to me and proclaiming, “You know, I have to be honest, I have not been that emotionally attached to another sports team since the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup”. As I laughed at his comment, I remember thinking to myself, you know, he really is being serious…and he was. And that was my brother for you, full of passion, sincerity, honor, and unwavering dedication to anything he attempted.

To know Don was to love him. There are not a lot of people in this world that have the ability to affect everyone they interact with positively. Don’s ability to do this was nothing short of remarkable; he had an uncanny ability of bringing out the best qualities in people. With confidence, I can proclaim that everyone in this room today is a better person for having had my brother in their life.

Not only did Don have a strong Faith in God, but also a very close relationship with Him. Don was a true ambassador of what a Christian man looks like and acts like. With everything he did, he did it to the glory of God and proclaimed his name.
I had the privilege to watch my brother this past Sunday stand before a room full of people, and deliver a textbook “Donnie” speech as he honored Dr. Gary Pawlitz’s life work and dismissed him from his long standing career in ministry. Being a person of passion, Don’s presentation was nothing short of grandeur and entertainment. As I watched Don on stage I kept nudging Angela smiling and saying, “Hey, that’s my brother up their, my oldest brother, there he is, look at him go”. I must have said this to her 5 or 6 times. I was saying this because I was proud of my brother and looking up to him just as I did when I was a child back in Lutheran North’s gymnasium.

Over the past few days as I’ve looked through old pictures and videos of Don, I found myself wishing somehow I had the ability to talk to him, to tell him that his days with all of us were numbered. However, I’ve come to the clear and soothing realization that if this were possible, Don would not of lived his life any differently than he had. He would of continued to love his wife, children and family to the fullest. He would have just kept on putting his entire self into his work, his coaching, his humor. And furthermore, he would of just kept on worshiping, praising, and glorifying the name of Jesus Christ and setting an example to the world of what a Man of God is and acts.

Today, I can rest in the reassurance that because of my brother’s relationship with his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ I will forever, for the rest of my life here on Earth be able to and continue to look up to my brother until one day when I join him and I can thank him once again eye to eye for teaching me what it means to be a man, a father, a Christian, and athlete, a husband, and a person who shined on a daily basis as he walked through life with God always at his side with him.

Don’s confirmation verse Isaiah 40:31 reads:
"But those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint."

My brother was called to his heavenly kingdom on my birthday. He and I will now share a day every year that we can celebrate life together. I will celebrate the life my brother led, and celebrate my own life in which I’ll strive to follow the footsteps and examples laid before me by my brother Don. I am honored to have this day with my brother.

Don, I will forever value and honor your life and the time we had together on Earth. Just as I did when I was 8 years old I am still here and always will be looking up to you.

The Importance of being Earnest

Although death and loss is a time of great sorrow and grief, I’ve strived to try and seek ways to learn from these events. As I attended my grandfather’s funeral yesterday, many thoughts raced through my head. I sat and tried to figure out how I was going to learn from this? How can I take lessons from my Grandfathers life and apply them to my own?
The experiences of his life and the sights that he saw and lived through were overwhelming to comprehend.

Last week as we sat bedside to my grandfather during his final hours, my grandmother explained to me that “Ernie had lived a hard life”. She went onto to explain some of the hardships of his childhood, the wars he had fought in, losing a child, and finally the physical suffering he had been in during the last years of his life. She then went onto proclaim that this will all be over now. As I listened to her words I couldn’t help but think to myself that although my grandfather had lived through many traumatic events, this never was evident during my time with him. He was always consistently pleasant and sincere with us…he was always Earnest.

During the funeral service, his Pastor explained that Ernie was someone who “always showed up”. Despite whatever adversity fell on him, he was a man of his word who was always there when he needed to be. I thought about this idea for a while and I realized this was the lesson I was going to take from my grandfather’s life on this Earth. Regardless of the odds, I will always strive to simply show up.

I’ve been pretty glued to the Olympics lately. To see athletes and individuals who epitomize passion and dedication is always a great motivator when on the brink of an upcoming and hopeful cycling season. I couldn’t help but fathom that in order for these athletes to get where they are today they surely must have not had a single obstacle that stood in their way. They must have had unlimited time to train and focus without distraction, everything must have gone perfectly for them. This is the time when I begin to fall into the idle ways of self-pity and the self-defeating thoughts begin to overcome my confidence and drive to want to press on and train harder and smarter than the past.

This thought of an ideal, uninterrupted path toward excellence is not only non-existent for these Olympians, but I realize it is not even possible. Rudyard Kipling said, “Unless you have been in the pit, you cannot enjoy the summit”. This idea is not exclusive to athletes, but rather our existence and consciousness in general. If we allow ourselves to succumb to the lows, than we’ve surrendered our simple ability to “just show up”.

A few weeks ago I was granted the necessary time off of work to attend this years 24hr Solo MTB National Championships. It was at this time a new flame was ignited, and focus and acuity came quickly streaming back to me. As I prepare for this new lofty goal, I am haunted by past failed expectations. However, recently I have not only come to a peaceful resolution with my race in Canmore last season, but I have come to realize that it quite possibly may have been a necessary step towards my target. It was a hard lesson learned but I now know that the torment that knags at you day to day ensued by quitting far exceeds whatever temporary physical pain that may have lead you to throw in the towel in the first place.

Armed with the lessons of being earnest, this season I plan on simply “showing up”.


Earnest G. Callender
1922 - 2010

EARNEST G. `ERNIE` CALLENDER, age 87 of West Bloomfield passed away Saturday, February 13, 2010 at Huron Valley Hospital in West Bloomfield. He was born on December 2, 1922 in Pontiac to the late Millard and Mildred (Wright) Callender. Ernie and Norma Schubring were united in marriage on January 19, 1946 in Port Hope. Ernie served in the US Army during World War II, he saw action in the Normandy Campaign, Northern France Campaign, Southern France Campaign and the Rhineland Campaign. He received the Purple Heart for his service. He enjoyed woodworking, dancing, fishing and bingo with his wife. He enjoyed his family very much. Ernie was a member of Peace Lutheran Church in Waterford. Ernie is survived by his wife Norma of West Bloomfield, daughter Linda Finkel and her husband Don of Port Hope, son Michael Callender and his wife Cheryl of White Lake, daughter-in-law Deanna Callender of North Carolina, five grandchildren, six great grandchildren, and one sister Doris Callender of Aurora, CO. He was preceded in death by a son James Callender, grandson Don Finkel Jr., great granddaughter Rebekah Finkel, and brothers Delbert Callender and Robert Callender.

Stoking the Neighbors!!!!

Their eyes lit up as I proudly rolled to the start of the ride on my 2010 Superfly 100. Despite less than optimal new bicycle debut riding conditions, I couldn’t help myself.

Being one of the only 100’s to make it to Michigan so far this year; this steed is indeed a coveted one. I feel very forunate to have one under me for 2010!

I was able to get out on it twice last week and have officially come to the conclusion that Travis Brown’s assessment was correct; this bike is almost cheating!

Pursuit

It seems that inevitably I always find myself at some point each year, trying to answer the same question: Why do I do this?

A friend of mine recently sent me a link to the soon to be released documentary Bicycle Dreams, which chronicles one of the most grueling endurance races in the world, the Race Across America. As you can see in the trailer below, the narrator quotes a comment from Lance Armstrong stating that, “Endurance Athletes are running away from something inside of themselves, and that is one of the reasons they do what they do”. The film also suggests that endurance racers are trying to fill a void inside of them with a burning desire to do something unimaginably great, not only to the spectator’s imagination but more importantly their own.


Are we running away from something inside of ourselves? Why do I now prefer to go the distance on my bike rather than a short and fast criterium race? Why did Robert Herriman ride 17,000 plus miles last year when he knew it was a detriment to his racing? Why do people want to try and climb Mt. Everest when they know their life could possibly be the cost of their endeavor?

I’m not sure there is an easily definable and understandable answer to these questions; I presume it is more a feeling than anything else. Getting close to this feeling only makes the quest/addiction/obsession more intense. Perhaps these answers can only be revealed through the pursuit of whatever the dream is. Furthermore, maybe it is this pursuit through which we discover our own definition.

While I do relate to Lances quote about running away from something inside of us, I would like to retort my own quote:

“Endurance athletes may not only be running away from something inside of themselves, but I believe they are also running towards a burning desire to discover something about themselves they never knew or dreamed imaginable.”
-Finkelstein

Times they are a changing.

With recent grumblings of budget cuts, fat trimming, scrimping, and salvaging I had a few undefined thoughts bouncing around my head on my ride. For some reason, this Dylan classic involuntarily jumped in my mind and I was reminded that these are not the first hard days we have fallen on nor will they be the last. The problems may change or evolve, but the themes stay the same. Perhaps it's our perspective and our approach that may make all the difference.

The Times They Are A-Changin'
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.

Personal Atonement

A few days ago, I rolled my last mile of the year. My goal was 14,000 miles. My usual end of the year blog posts consists of a detailed breakdown of my seasonal mileage and what steeds saw what miles. However, this year the final post is a little different.

I felt a little like Forest Gump as I reached my goal. I simply stopped and looked around, and thought to myself, “I’m kind of tired, I think I’ll stop riding and go home now”. And at that, my year of riding was complete. I am indeed tired, not so much physically, but mentally.

There is a short two mile loop that myself and a few other mileage junkies go to round up our miles at the end of a ride. We commonly refer to it as the Champs-Élysées. I found it only fitting to head out to this ritualistic spot to finish the year and do some soul-searching for next year. As I rolled lap after lap I reflected on the year behind me. So much had changed for me in a matter of a year, some of which was for the good and some of which was the complete unforeseen.

There is a quote from the epic Mountain Bike film Roam that I have always found to be metaphorically fitting to my approach to cycling. It says, “On a mountain bike, you can travel a great distance in a short amount of time, or a short distance in a great amount of time.” This past year I have traveled many great distances but I have also experienced the paralyzing sudden halt that can ensue when your world dramatically changes in a way you never even considered a possibility. All in all, I believe I maintained forward motion to the best of my ability.

When you throw away wattage numbers, mileage accumulation, time tallying, race results, bike weight, and all the other finite measurements that attract us to the sport you are left with simply the ride and the journey. When broken down, what I take away most from this sport is the value in the journey. I have learned many important lessons this year about myself, my world, how I interact with the world, and the race itself.

Typically, this time of year would be fueled by whatever race results or personal accomplishments I am aiming at for the upcoming season. However, I feel I have changed my perspective going into the 2010 season. What I am most eager for is to apply those lessons I have learned from the past and embrace the journey this year. I am quite confident that if the journey is the main focus, the results will simply fall in line.

So I guess its officially that time again…MONKHOOD. My private war starts today. I’ll see you all at the start line.

Envy

Sometimes when I read blogs of fellow riders who live in 4-season cycling environments I am envious. I’m envious that they never have to take 45 minutes just to weatherproof themselves before they go out and ride during the December-March months. I’m envious that they never have to worry about numb fingers and toes and the ever-looming ominous threat of frostbite. And I’m envious that they don’t need a bike dedicated simply to the salty icy conditions and probably don’t even own studded tires.


Today I rolled 82 miles of snow-covered winter wonderland landscape. The miles were slow and arduous and mentally therapeutic. I feel bad for those riders who have never got to experience a day like today.