Trust the Process
I've had writer's block lately, or at least that’s what I thought. I had several ideas and thoughts I wanted to write about, but none came together as I wanted them to. It started to stress me out a little bit, and the practice of writing became less intrinsic. I started thinking about my audience too much and what they would want to read. Do I write for the others? At the same time, I felt I had lost focus and had too many topics I wanted to write about. What are the most meaningful ones to me?
Dr. Michael Gervais says to stop worrying about other people's opinions if you want to master something.
Steve Jobs once said that focus means saying no to the other hundreds of good ideas there are.
Leaning into my opinions sometimes will mean that they only speak to some people. Change always opens new doors and others might close. But I want to focus on the most honest version of myself.
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This is a good moment to look back and reflect.
A bit longer than a year ago, I cycled from Girona to Arles. We had just transitioned to Europe and were about to move into our first Parisian apartment. Many moments and emotions are still very present. For example the meaning of crossing the French border or the mental challenges while riding against the wind for many hours. I remember the smell of the ocean and the openness of the Camargue provided me. The past 12 months have been full of change and progress and I thought about a range of topics, yet for me, they all linked together.
How is the feeling of home and belonging connected to my origins and family?
Can I make a living only working with people and organizations I deeply connect with?
How much newness and fresh input are healthy in the context of tradition and innovation?
Girona to Arles (2023)
Intro
I remember when Paul texted me a while back if I'd be down for some gravel rides in the Black Forrest - Nancy and I were having breakfast in Mazunte at the beach. My sabbatical mindset equaled the say yes to everything mindset and given our journey I was driven by the adventure spirit. Turned out, Paul would come through the Black Forrest on his path to Girona, Spain. A place Paul lived around 8 years ago during his professional road cycling career, a place we drove with a van from Berlin at the time to move his belongings into a cute old town apartment, a place where we had Gin & Tonics the size of a swimming pool - many of them. Since we haven't spent a lot of time with each other since I moved to the US we felt this could be a great opportunity for us to spend some days together, ride our bikes and enjoy the sun.
If I look back to 3 months ago and compare my thoughts, I still like to say yes to everything, I still want to go on adventures, but I'm not sure if I would have decided to ride my bike from Girona to Arles where I will meet Nancy and my parents for a week in the south of France. And the reason is: I'm tired. Girona turned out to be a full training camp, my legs are sore, my whole body is exhausted, my butt hurts, I'm eating like a machine, but never enough and the last thing I feel doing is riding in three stages from Spain to France.
The last few days have brought back many memories from my time racing, which has been such a huge part of my life for many years. There is a certain position on the bike, which is somehow connected to those thoughts. It could be a body memory, or maybe simply the feeling of the wind. I truly don't know it - but what I do know, is that I learned a lot through cycling - and I keep learning while I'm riding. Some things are just very practical: I would rather turn around and do a shorter ride to avoid the rain than get soaked. My bike is kind of old and the new technology would probably help me to go faster (it's a fact). I still like the combination of white socks and white shoes the best despite all the trends. But there are also other learnings or maybe better realizations. Most importantly: I'm glad how my life turned out to be and I'm extremely grateful for the times racing, but I'm happy where I am and not went fully pro (on a side note: that was not my choice, I was simply not good enough). That all the experiences I made after cycling are so valuable and beautiful and more meaningful to me than becoming a pro. There is a certain personality needed to make it to the Tour de France, I'm not sure if I'd like to have that in me.
I'm looking forward to the time on the bike, riding (not training), discovering new regions and being with myself and my thoughts. Reflecting on this week, the things I realized about myself, the people I met, the conversations with Paul and the power of sunshine. But also on what's to come next - I'll ride into France, the country where we will spend our next chapter. That is a nice feeling and with that energy, I'll start tomorrow with Day 1 on my journey from Spain to France.
Day 1
Crossing Boarders -- Girona to Le Barcarés: 117 km
We got up very early on the morning of my first day since Paul had to leave for his first race of the season in Malaga. After a big hug, we sent each other off, knowing that we could see each other more often this summer. I prepared myself and packed the bike before getting a last coffee at our favorite spot down the street.
The feeling on the bike is very different if you add three bags to your 8kg road bike. It's less agile, requires more concentration in technical passages and it's extra challenging to get out of the bike seat for uphill sections or to relax your muscles for a moment. In addition, I carried a backpack, which again changed the so well-known feeling and behavior while riding. After leaving the old town of Girona I needed to remind myself why I was doing this trip and that this was neither about speed or performance nor to prove anything to myself or anyone other than enjoying the journey along the Spanish-French coast. At the same time it's an interesting thought to follow for a few kilometers: What happens if you add weight and baggage to your bike in a more metaphorical meaning of life. The beauty of a deep thinking period on the bike is, that time and kilometers fly by and after a while, I got used to the bike handling and the fact, that I had to stop every time I wanted to get a water bottle out of my holder. (I changed that after a few hours, and re-packed my frame bag in a parking lot).
There were not many riders on the road this morning, it was calm and I made good progress. After around 50 km of riding in the sun, I could see the French border ahead of me. The border is small, nothing spectacular but it had meaning to me this time. I'm riding into France - It felt like an arrival and somehow like an accomplishment. Not because it was the steepest hill on the whole trip to get into France. But we moved places so smoothly and we enjoyed the process a lot.
When you arrive in the little border town, you immediately feel that you're in a new country - besides all the border town shops and stores, the difference in license plates and cars, the different police officer uniforms... in my case: the roads in Spain were so much nicer, and the bike rolls so much easier. In addition, there was a change of wind direction - fully from the front and I thought: welcome to France! The headwind felt like a sign of "things are different over here" referring to the stereotypes of French people, and how they can be "rude" to foreigners. Maybe even a little reminder, that not everything in life can and will be as smooth as this transition period over the past four months. I stopped at a gas station to get water, and without thinking about it I started speaking Spanish. It brought back the thought of "living between cultures" - something I was thinking about lately. It starts with the obvious, of being in different countries, engaging with different cultures and people and goes on to personal and professional behaviors, to friendships and a romantic relationship - something I enjoy a lot, and something I created more awareness of within the last years.
More or less 20 km before my destination in Le Barcarés I could see the ocean for the first time, and a flush of motivation went through my body and I pushed a little bit harder. It's a nice feeling to be able to increase the speed even though your body is already tired. Some say it's all in our head, and in this context I always remember the story of my first Orchard Street Run in NYC where the people ran extremely hard and fast. We went along the East River and back through Manhattan to the Lower Eastside, maybe 7-8 km. A short one, but very fast. The top 5-8 runners, are for sure faster than me on paper, but maybe I have one advantage from growing up in the athlete world: when you think you're done - your body is far away from being done!! I can somehow switch on this mode, connect with the rhythm of my breath, and just keep going without thinking about the speed, my tired legs or how many kilometers we have left. I arrived 3rd of that summer night at our meeting spot Regina's to the surprise of myself and also some others.
Back to the bike - while I was pushing a bit harder, enjoying the noise of the rough ocean, I realized several spots in my body were more sore and tired than usual. The backpack requires more strength in the lower back, the arms, and somehow the neck. The additional weight on my bike needs more power to be moved forward. And all the little things I usually don't think about become bigger in my head. I was looking for a massage place in the area - no luck. And maybe for the first time in a long time, I wish I'd have a foam roller to roll out my legs and back.
A few minutes later I arrived in a very sleepy little town, which lives from summer tourism. I chose the place based on location and distance and yet there was a little nice surprise: a small, but well-stocked fresh produce store, with an incredibly friendly owner - no French stereotype at all - so I released that thought from earlier today and enjoyed our conversation. I experienced only friendly people along the whole ride, maybe there is a little "wow effect" if someone pulls up with a bike coming from Spain. Maybe there is some level of respect that creates very supportive energy. I filled my bags with veggies, sardines and eggs - and cooked myself a great dinner in my little apartment for the night. I stretched my tired body, which is still such a "mental" challenge when you're exhausted. There is something about the discipline "off the bike" and discipline in general. Something I learned very early on in life, sometimes the hard way, sometimes the easy way. But most things require discipline I think to believe. Even good recovery after a long day on the bike and with that thought I went to bed early, hoping the direction of the wind would change.
Day 2
French Headwind -- Le Barcarés to Sète: 123 km
I woke up this morning, and looked out of the window in the hope of wind from the south - not really from the south, but also not fully from the north - it's a "glass half empty or half full" moment. I can say, that I'm a "glass half full" person, and with that spirit, I prepared a huge breakfast. First I had a big bowl of oats with fruits, followed by eggs and fruits again. Breakfast and dinner become more like a "nutrition loading" than an enjoyable meal. However, I do believe that putting in a little extra effort makes such a difference, and eating with a bit of joy will add energy to our body and mind.
After packing my bags, I left the town towards my next destination - a small harbor town, a bit more charming and lively - something to look forward to. After 2 minutes I realized, that this would be a tough day. The wind was pretty strong, so I decided to add a few kilometers and go away from the coast to avoid the wind. Looking back, I'm not sure if it really made a big difference. The wind wasn't the only challenge this morning: after 20 minutes I had a flat tire. It happens. However, it is still annoying, especially when you just left. Lucky me there was a bike store a few kilometers further down the road, so I could buy new spare tubes (which turned out to be smart), and make sure the air pressure was correct. Since this morning started already a little "bitter", I thought it was time for something "sweet" when I passed this very nice Cafe on the road. I stopped, had an espresso and went back to zero in my head - now the day started. The wind was just part of today, so I stopped thinking about it and enjoyed the short moments when the wind was blocked through buildings along the road. Suddenly I felt my tire lose air again, and within 30 km I had my second flat of the day. I can't remember when this happened to me the last time, it must be 15 years or so. After fixing the bike next to the road I thought about my karma this morning, and if I had done something not nice in the last days - couldn't come up with something, so I left it under "bad luck" and kept going.
Despite all the technical challenges this morning, my legs felt okay, my body got used to the different positions and I made good progress. I took a few water stops along the road and made sure to eat enough during the ride. I had Paul's voice in my ear "Jonas - you need to eat more" and somehow I thought about all the times I felt extremely exhausted after riding or running in the last 5 years: yes - I have to admit, I didn't eat enough. It's funny because I know better, and I advise all my friends what, how much and when to eat while exercising - and yet; I don't follow my own advice. This thought stuck with me for many kilometers while eating some extra bars, just for the sake of it.
Meanwhile, I found a way to get out of my seat for little uphill sections and to relax my lower body. The tightness coming from the lower back was more intense than the day before, so I did a few stretches here and there. It's a bit like with the eating, there are the obvious tools and routines to develop more strengths in my chore and yet I don't do them enough. Sure - I have other things to do, and my life is not fully dedicated to sports anymore, but maybe that's just a bad excuse for being a bit lazy. The risk of injuries and issues increased by a lot, and I hate to say it - but I also got a bit older. My body is not taking it so easily anymore and those details start to matter even more. With the Chicago marathon later this year, I really need to make space and time for those exercises - and in this moment of back pain, I committed to it. The thought of discipline came back.
The last stretch was again along the ocean, and there were more people and cyclists on the bike path. It's a nice feeling after all these hours of riding alone to see some other people, saying hi to each other, maybe have a quick chat, and also get some affirmation for my effort. There is a difference between cyclists in Europe - especially in the south - and the US. The sport has such a long tradition and there is more to it than actually riding the bike. The esthetics are mostly inspired by old team jerseys, very colorful and a little less aerodynamic. Overall I find it a bit more charming and I especially like to see older couples riding together, with tanned skin and strong bodies from years of riding.
Arriving in Sète was quite different than Le Barcarès, a busy harbor town with bustling street cafes and restaurants. After a quick shower, I went to town - searching for a place to eat. However, it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner - so I ended up in this little gourmet market, buying some (still gluten-free) pasta, anchovies, and veggies and made myself a huge portion at home, while watching some episodes from Michael Jordan's Last Dance. I watched it a few times already, and yet I found it inspiring every time. With some MJ spirits in mind, I went to bed.
Day 3
Coffee and Croissant -- Sète to Arles: 107 km
There is something very special about early mornings in towns and cities. I always like to experience a very crowded and hectic place during its calmest time - in NY that's usually when you leave for a morning ride or run, or to go surfing at 5.45 am on a hot and humid summer day. There is just a short window when the nightlife people leave the streets and before the city and its people wake up.
Sète was very calm and empty, with just a few people rushing to the bakeries for some fresh baguettes. I walked over to the market hall, where besides a few locals I was the first one at 8 am. I decided to take it easy today, it's the last day and I don't have to be in Arles before 4 pm. The market people were preparing for a busy Sunday morning, some locals came in for a quick chat and espresso and it felt very European to me - I enjoyed it a lot. Since it's my last day of riding and I've been craving something other than oats and eggs, I decided to get a coffee and croissant in a little boutique hotel around my place. The hotel had nice energy and was equipped with very nice furniture. Being able to enjoy the luxury hotel and the very basic bike-packing life equally felt always good to me. Something my Nancy and me have in common, and makes our adventures always very special.
I left Sète at 11.30 am after a nice morning, with a big smile knowing who was waiting for me in Arles. The riding felt easier, there was less wind and there were lots of nice cyclists on the road. Time flew by, and even though I had to take a few detours - after my punctures I wanted to avoid any gravel roads - I came to half-time very quickly. My body didn't feel too bad, and I guess the "eating more" showed already its positive effects. Halfway in, I entered the typical Camargue region. An area full of wild horses, flamingos, old wineries and the smell of salty air. The endless flat land offers a wonderful panoramic view, which allows you to zoom out and look at things differently. Metaphorically I think it's very important to create and allow panoramic views in a world where things can be so narrow. With 40 km to go I passed the crossing to Sainte Marie de la Mer where we spent some beautiful days last summer, and I was with my parents when we were kids. I remember how wild the ocean was, and how much we enjoyed jumping in the waves - not much has changed since then. When my friends asked me what I was doing on the beach in Mexico last winter I answered: I jump in the waves like a little kid. It's important to let out the child here and there. In a larger context to me, it's connected to letting go. (not so much of the past, more of yourself - which then can help to let go of other things including the past).
Riding in solitude for three days, with very little talking and overall less communication felt very natural. Don't get me wrong, I like to talk and everyone who knows me probably experienced it in one way or the other. I do like to be in constant touch with my girlfriend, friends and family - but there is something about not being influenced by external factors or other people's thoughts and thinking things through on your own first. Being on the bike or a run creates many ideas in my head and provides perspective and solutions to challenges across all layers of life. I'd even say, that some of my best ideas came while being in motion - and I have always been an advocate for body movement within a work environment. In running there are the phenomena of "a runner's high", which some also call "flow state" - somewhere in between is a very sweet spot for me, where I move and challenge my body enough to get in this creative mindset, but not exhausting myself and eventually only focus on breathing and overcoming pain. A huge component of this is the time of movement - cycling and running provide all these things for me (and any other long-distance sport). No matter where this next journey will lead me professionally, I will keep continuing these routines.
I arrived in Arles, with good energy, and not fully exhausted. It was the shortest day, and somehow the wind decided to come from the back for the last 25 km which felt great. We booked a nice Airbnb in town, where I waited for Nancy and my parents to arrive. I had a short moment to myself, reflecting on the past three days. Mentally and physically I felt extremely good about this journey, and for a short moment, I thought about continuing to Paris. However, the distance and the timing might not work out this time - but there will always be another chance.
I texted Paul, he came in 5th in Malaga - that made me happy.
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