Time moves forward, indifferent and relentless. Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and before we realize it, a full year has passed. That is exactly what happened to me. A little over one year since the last update. Life did not pause, but the regular riding did.
Work consumed everything. Zoom calls in the morning, face to face meetings in the afternoon, strategy sessions in the evening, international flights at all hours in between. Airports, agendas, and adversaries filled my days. Too many trips, too many time zones, too many tasks demanding my full attention. The bike collected dust. The road became a memory. The body adapted to stillness instead of movement.
But everything changes.
At the beginning of January 2025, I made a choice. A deliberate, necessary shift. I turned over a new leaf and returned to riding. Not outside, not yet, but indoors. A controlled environment. A space where excuses hold no ground. No wind, no rain, no traffic, no waiting. Just effort and discipline. I did not write about it immediately. I refused to document a false start. No declarations of intent, no empty promises. I would write only when the habit was real. When the rides were consistent. When the effort had weight.
Now it does.
The numbers tell the story. 760 kilometers in January alone, spread across 21 indoor rides on Rouvy, taking me through virtual roads carved across continents. One day, climbing cobbled streets in Italy. The next, sprinting sun-scorched straights in Mexico. From the steep, punishing ascents of the Alps to the rolling countryside of Poland, the journey has spanned worlds without ever leaving the room. Sweat pools, pedals turn, progress builds. Every ride is a lesson. Every kilometer is a step. Every session is a silent contract with discipline, with determination, with destiny.
The wheels spin, the sweat drips, the resistance fights back, and the body remembers. The rhythm of the ride returns. With each session, I reclaim what was lost. A familiar fatigue, a sharpened focus, a mind that clears as the cadence builds. Pedal, push, persist. Power, progress, performance. The pattern is simple, the struggle is real, the results are undeniable.
Discipline does not live alone. It demands allies. So I count the calories, track the intake, measure the output. Watching the numbers, adjusting the habits, refining the details. The goal is clear. Drop **six to ten kilograms** before summer. Not through shortcuts, not through desperation, but through the only method that ever truly works. Effort and endurance. Precision and patience. Control and commitment.
This is not just about weight. It never is. It is about movement over stagnation. It is about regaining what was lost, not just physically, but mentally. Strength, resilience, clarity. These are the real gains. The weight will drop, the body will change, but the real transformation happens within.
The ancient Greeks believed in kairos, the right moment, the opportune time when action and fate align. This is that moment. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, but now. The road waits, but not forever. The ride is mine to take. The only question is whether I will rise to meet it.
I already know the answer.
This is only the beginning. In a subsequent post, I will break down these 21 virtual rides, not just the distances covered, but the grit, grind, and growth accompanying each one. The routes taken, the struggles faced, the moments of clarity found in the rhythm of the ride. Each session has been more than just numbers on a screen. It has been a test of will, a war with weakness, a reckoning with resistance.
For now, these reflections live in Zwift, brief notes capturing fleeting thoughts post-ride. But this space demands more. It deserves more. The words will return, the writing will resume, and the insights will deepen. This is more than tracking progress. It is documenting discipline, defining determination, detailing the journey. The ride is not just about the road. It is about the rider. And every revolution of the pedals tells a story worth sharing.
More to come.
