A day of rest, a moment to reset, a chance to step away from the relentless pursuit of distance and wattage. Yesterday I really needed to let the muscles recover, but this break was about more than just physical restoration. It was about connection, about sitting down for a meal with a former colleague and friend, about sharing stories and reflections away from the constantly-revolving pedals.
Riding demands discipline, but life requires balance. The road will always be there, but moments with those who matter are fleeting.
With recovery behind me, I returned to the desert this morning, ready to push again. The ride felt strong, the effort deliberate, the rhythm steady. Every pedal stroke carried weight, every little climb added resistance, and by the time I reached the end, I was certain I had pushed hard today.
But it was all for naught.
The numbers told a different story. The wattage did not match the effort I had felt, a reminder that perception and reality do not always align. Yet numbers alone do not define progress. The strain, the endurance, and the ability to push through the burn is where growth lives. It was still a solid ride, and another step forward on this journey back to regaining control of my fitness.
As I navigated the virtual expanse of the Namibian desert, a lone thought kept returning. This ride should not remain confined to screens and simulation. The vast emptiness, the golden sands stretching endlessly in all directions, the deep blues of the sky clashing against the burnt earth, this was a place meant to be felt, not just seen. The silence, the heat, the wind unfiltered by walls, the road unbroken by digital limits.
This ride must be real one day. I need to witness this in-person, with my own eyes, my own legs, and on my own bike.
Nevertheless, my journey continues, the fire remains, and the road ahead is waiting.
