Another shift: slowly stepping back from ultra racing. I’ve learned so much from it, but lately the events felt more punishing than joyful. My “why” has faded. I know I can do hard things—but why does everything have to be hard? Curiosity about a country doesn’t always fuel you through a freezing, sleepless night. The mindset I’d preached for years—keep going, push through, the storm will pass—suddenly felt less convincing. A friend pointed out this summer, “You know you can pause, take shelter, look after yourself?”
That comment cracked something open.
Maybe the long-term mindset, in life and cycling, is choosing not just resilience but also enjoyment. Slowing down isn’t failure; often, it’s the better choice.
Throughout the year, one thought kept resurfacing:
What if you went somewhere epic entirely on your own terms? No stopwatch. No pressure. Just curiosity. Cycling used to be purely about discovery—maybe it’s time to rediscover that, even in the everyday: autumn leaves, a break in the clouds, a shortcut that may or may not work.
Nothing captured this new feeling this year more than cycling across the Andes. The route was ambitious, but the pressure was gone. My focus was simply being present. My ultra experience helped me relax in wild, remote places, but with the ticking clock turned down, stopping to look around felt like a gift—the way it should.
Most cyclists spend their lives off the bike, so the time we give ourselves on it—a Sunday spin, a weekend overnighter, a once-a-year epic—should feel like a gift. I’m still not the most disciplined rider, so when delays came in Peru—long lunch, late lunch, no lunch, mechanicals, hike-a-bike—there was no stress, no sense of lost time.
Possibility is still what excites me: that anything might appear around the next bend. So I’m not saying my racing days are over. But after twelve years of adventures by bike, I’m struck by how cycling continues to evolve with me—how it keeps teaching me about the world and about myself.
For me, the bicycle has always been the best tool for expanding my horizons. And it still is. I can’t wait to show you what I have planned for 2026.
