Cycling is a kind of Meditation for me. I also train my physical condition. Of course i also train mentally. It ensures that no matter how hard it is, how far I have to go, I stay positive and constantly push my limits. It trives over and over again.
Perhaps that’s why I always look forward to the start of the cycling season.
I confess I haven’t quite internalized the new 2020 cycling season calendar – Oke i know the Tour the france is ritten already .. meaning ; I’m still completely confused of it, some monuments are finished and the Giro 2020 has begon already. My brain is a computer that hasn’t been reprogrammed after it was hacked by a Chinese troll in March. Many months have passed since then, but that seems like a long void that I don’t remember exactly what it was filled with.
I did some traveling between Austria and the Netherlands with trips to neighboring countries- Germany- France- Italy- Belgium – Luxembourg. All with a great deal of caution. Of course I cycled a lot, the different landscapes have fascinated me. The beauties of the environments left a lifelong impression on me. More than once I feel privileged to be able to experience all of this
Well, of course I know: with the things that have always occurred in April , May and till today. Only this time, the fixed benchmarks that give structure to your life and your memories an anchor, such as the dates of the cycling calendar, were missing. Which makes it all a bit vague, as if you have lived somewhere between dream and reality.
Since 1 August. Finally after a long wait, de cycling of the pro tours has started. And now the Winter season knocking on the door. I don’t no yet if i’am ready yet. Can i visit the Stelvio when the GIRO passed by ? Honestly , my whole rhythm jumped from one to another
It all had started with the Strade Bianche. I had looking forward to that. Although Tuscany is also not to be sneezed at in the spring, I think it is most beautiful there when the red earth is braised and the villages are shimmering on their hills. But , you don’t hear me complaining.
Honestly, i haven’t quite figured out my own rhythm yet. there has been a tremor every year for five years. a kind of change of direction, a “so-now-he-has-just-made-himself-comfortable-now-let’s-hit-the-shit”. really now. something every damn year. some changes were urgently needed, others painful, and still others came about as planned as the onset of winter in June. and like a distant echo in my head, I hear my sigh of resignation, which is always the same. sighing about the fact that ‘life is now shifting into the next gear again’ * roll your eyes *. and then I ask myself if it couldn’t just stay calm. if I couldn’t finally arrive somehow please.
But there is one thing that I may have completely overlooked all these years – and in this now especially – in tragic-comic blindness to the big picture:
maybe arriving is precisely about allowing yourself to change. that you don’t hold on rigidly to something you may have long outgrown. that you let go of things that are no longer good for you. even if one would wish the opposite so much. i think that sometimes you just have to take a step backwards. to see the bigger picture, to take a breath, to start running.
‘Cause who knows where we’ll end up if only we allowed ourselves to make the next change, that one goddamn step backwards.
On the Road 