When I first learned how to ride a road bike, I was afraid of riding alone in busy intersections so I packed my bike and literally drove three blocks to my friend’s house to start our ride. I practiced clipping in and out of the pedals in the parking lot. I remember the day when I had enough balance and control to simultaneously drink from my water bottle while riding in the backroads of Redlands. The sun was rapidly setting and I laughed with delight. I felt invincible. That tiny win unlocked the childlike part of myself that had fearlessly ridden and performed risky tricks on a bike as a child. Only this time, I was a 22 year-old clipped into an aluminum road bike and rediscovering my joy.

I’d forgotten about all those mini markers of progress, but when I rode the coast on Sunday they all came back as sweet memories. It’s valuable to remember where we once started. What it was like to be a beginner.

These two wheels have taught me the importance of getting back on after setbacks and crashing before the fear sets into my bones. At the beginning of this year, a wasp got trapped under my sunglasses while descending and stung me near my eye. In the subsequent days my face was so dysmorphic and my eye was literally swollen shut. In a panic, I was driven to the ER where I was pumped with IV antibiotics and Prednisone. With quarantine and riding solo, I’ve had to stay calm and feel confident fixing mechanicals on my own. These situations have terrified me in different ways, but I always do my best to get back in the saddle. To not let fear win and keep me paralyzed. It’s a powerful metaphor for other parts of my life.

A lot of things won’t work. They may crash and burn and lose air. And that’s ok. The most important thing is to get back up. To not let fear win. To stay the course, keep your eyes on the Bigger Destination, to be generous along the way, and never forget the small wins that got you to where you currently are.