The End
(This will be long. I have a lot to say.)
I decided even before the finish to wait a while before writing my summary post. I wanted to take some time to think about everything I experienced and learned before writing what I hoped would be a more objective and rounded view of my journey. As it turned out, and as I learned every day during my ride, life has a way of unfolding in unexpected ways, sometimes leading to major shifts in your perspective, so I’m glad I’m just now getting to my last entry.
Putting Things in Perspective
You may recall, Tish and I planned to spend 2 weeks after the finish with family in New Jersey before heading west. That changed when Tish’s sister Ann Marie passed away suddenly in early July. This was obviously a shock to our family. We spent a great deal of time with Ann and her family when they lived in Redlands, CA. We’ve always been close to Ann’s children, Katie and Rob, and we’re so sorry they’ve lost their mother. Katie and Rob each have a child and now they’ve lost their grandmother. Ann was too young to leave us. We changed our plans and headed to south (and then west), and while it was nice to have so much extended family time in South Carolina, Ann Marie’s passing really did put the last few months in perspective and reinforced the importance of consciously appreciating the important people in your life and treasuring and making the most of every day. In that vein, while I’m not looking for silver linings in the face of our family’s loss, Tish is so grateful she was able to spend a week with Ann Marie in June while I was off gallivanting in Kentucky and Virginia. Unbeknownst to us, the ride apparently had another purpose.
The other unexpected card I’ve been dealt has been my slow recovery from Covid. I haven’t made a big deal about it, but it’s been tough, and I’m still not back to normal. The fatigue still hits me every day or so, although it’s not nearly as bad as the “Lancaster week”. I get winded after even the mildest of workouts, so that staple in my life has been a no-no. Lastly, I do best with 10 hours of sleep a night—and an afternoon nap please if that’s possible. It’s incredibly frustrating, but it’s also helped check my ego. Riding into D.C. in early June with all those miles under my belt and no sign of Covid, I’d never felt so strong and alive. I was on top of the world—and pretty vocal about it if I recall. For the past few weeks, ego has turned to envy of the other cyclists, runners, and swimmers I encounter. It’s also scary. Let’s face it, if you read between all the lines, I wanted to do the ride to reaffirm I’m not old, but that’s exactly how I’ve felt this past month. I craved something and got just the opposite.
Lastly, I received word yesterday that Blaine and Sandy Combs’ house in Dwarf, KY had been devastated by the recent floods. You may recall Blaine, Sandy, and their granddaughter Katie from my Day 36 (June 1, 2022) post. Blaine saw I was having trouble with my directions and invited me over for a bottle of water and some shade in their yard. I enjoyed the water and the shade, but the conversation was something I’ll never forget. Here are the details of what happened including some very heroic actions taken by the Combs to save another family. I’m still waiting to hear back from Katie on whether any fundraisers have been set up to assist these very fine people.
So July wasn’t great, but here’s where the ride comes in. So much of what I learned while I was out there (or so much of what was reinforced) can—and should—be applied to challenges like these. As my father used to say, I have to take my own medicine.
What Did I Take from All of This?
As a general statement, the learnings were vast. Some of them are life lessons, others—because of my background—probably apply more to the business world. Some of them were new (to me), while others reinforced what I already knew deep down but never had the time or inclination to ponder and succinctly verbalize.
If this comes off as preachy, my apologies. Again, please remember, the blog was also for me to document my experience and put into words what the trek meant and did for me.
Everyday Learnings
There will be good days and bad days. Good moments and bad moments. In the past, I’ve tended to get stuck on the bad times when they come as opposed to consciously evaluating the situation and realizing, in most cases, the bad will pass. Mindfulness is an overused term, but it sure helped me get back on the positive track faster when I made a wrong turn, was drenched by a downpour, got Covid…I could go on.
There may be an ascent, descent, or level grade around the next bend; there’s nothing you can do but deal with what’s handed to you. That said, if you’ve done your homework, you’ll know better what to expect. I tried to eliminate as many surprises from my days as possible. Nowhere was this more important than climbing. Look, climbing is climbing; it’s not the easiest part of cycling, but it’s so much easier when you know you’re approaching a 1,000-foot ascent as opposed to going into a climb blind and wondering from the get-go, “how much longer is this going to go on”. I mentioned this to someone the other day and they agreed, saying it’s much easier to count down than up.
I ran into two types of cyclists: Whiners and Bad Asses. Whiners hadn’t researched their routes and/or hadn’t conditioned. They not only complained about the hills, but actually got angry at the hills. Silly. Bad Asses knew what was in store for them and went about their business. Bad Asses knew what to eat to get the most out of their bodies. Whiners ate pizza for breakfast and complained when they bonked (ran out of energy) and persistent stomach problems on the road. Don’t be a Whiner. Be a Bad Ass. (BTW. Goofus was a Whiner. Gallant was a Bad Ass.)
Extended climbing taught me something I wish I’d known a long, long time ago: Don’t blindly attack your problems. You may solve the issue at hand but create more problems and waste more energy & time down the line if you’re not thoughtful in your approach. I’ve always tended to go all-out when an issue arose. I took an aggressive approach and got things done quickly, but looking back, I wasn’t smart in my problem solving and likely wasted a lot of time that could have been devoted to more important, impactful contributions. Climbing taught me a different way. If I knew I had a long day of climbing, I learned quickly not to go all out on the first ascent. My ego wanted me to shift into beast mode from the start, but I quickly tamed the beast and shifted into wimpy, lowest-gear, snail’s pace climb mode. I didn’t get up the hills as quickly, but I was much more prepared for the next ascent. There were also a few climbing days when Miles (touring cycle with extended low gears) was packed away in the van and it would have been far easier to just go with Smoke (fast, but limited gears). I had to convince myself (and Tish) to take the extra 15 minutes and excavate the better bike for the day. Both strategies optimized how much energy I was exerting, made for a much more pleasurable day, and put me in a better position to slay the next day’s dragons.
People Smarts
Be nice to people. Thank them. As John Blutarsky said, “Don’t cost nothin’.” I lost track of how many interesting conversations I had along the way just as a result of saying, “Hi”. I really wanted to use the trip as way to come out of the shell I’ve built around myself over the past 30 or so years and really feel I’m a more social person as a result.
I encountered two types of non-cyclists on the journey: Supporters and Skeptics. Supporters were curious and wanted to engage. They would ask, “why are you doing this?” and genuinely wanted to know about my motivations, route, and equipment. They were also very kind in offering their support in so many ways. Some even offered constructive criticism and advice. I tried to get as much time with Supporters; they inspired me. Skeptics, on the other hand, asked, “why would you want to do that?” with the implication that there was something wrong with “that”. I’m sure I’m overgeneralizing, but I found these folks to be resistant to change, negative, and reluctant to challenge themselves. Embrace and constantly thank your Supporters. Ignore your Skeptics.
Bikes and Business
Think big. I didn’t want to cycle the California coast or circumnavigate Vermont or do a Texas hill tour. There’s nothing wrong with those rides, but I wanted to aim as high as I could. Coast-to-coast or stay home. This paid big dividends. From a personal perspective, going the distance delivered an unbelievably varied journey—unforgettable. Thinking big also allowed me to communicate a very clear, tangible vision which I’m certain was a prime driver of the amazing support I received. “I’m going cross country” is a BHAG (big, hairy-assed goal) that people were able to easily rally around. You got it. Looking back on my career, I wish I had thought bigger more. When I reflect on my greatest successes, they link directly to big goals I set for myself or my organization. Going back to the problem of all-out problem solving (above), I often was too easily consumed by the problem of the day which deflected my attention from the bigger problems that needed to be solved. I could have had a bigger impact. I could have been more successful.
Having a big vision is great. Having a cause is even better. My ride and the interest in my experiences and progress didn’t really come together until we made JDRF fundraising and awareness central to everything I was doing.
Build long, intermediate, and short-term goals around your vision, but expect the unexpected. Veering from and adjusting your goals will be the norm. I know this is Management 101 stuff, but the ongoing adjustments we had to make because of the weather, terrain, and my health convincingly reinforces this basic tenant of business and life. The end didn’t change, but the means surely did.
Communicate often. I started the blog because I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember everything. Then I missed a day. The number of emails and texts asking if I was o.k. or if something knocked me off course was a big surprise. This reinforced something I learned from ongoing employee surveys we administered when I was running a division of a large marketing firm. The most common, consistent complaint was the lack of communication from management. We’d double communications, yet this was still listed as the biggest issue. I’m sure there’s a point where there’s too much communication (I’m guessing I’m approaching that point with this monster post), but the ceiling is high. In my case, there was a huge upside to me overcommunicating. The more I blogged, the more inspirational feedback I received. Believe me, this was a two-way street.
The Biggies
You don’t need to take on incredible challenges to feel special. You’re special if you have rich relationships with people who love you and make you a better person. (But adrenaline junkies still might need a fix every now and then.)
If you’re not having fun, question whether what you’re doing is the best use of your precious time. Make every day count. If you can, make every minute count.
Make up your own rules where you can. Set your own terms.
Take care of yourself. Get enough sleep and eat right.
How Did This Change Me?
Transformational change will come if I’m able to put as many of my learnings into everyday practice as possible. It’s only been a month though, so I can’t legitimately lay claim to anything just yet. A few things I do know:
My confidence level was pretty high going into the ride, but I feel even more sure of my ability to conquer big endurance challenges in the future. I feel the same way about some of the other opportunities I’m pursuing in retirement. As I mentioned above, thinking bigger pays higher returns.
I’ve never been high strung, but I have a sense of calm that I’ve never had before. The ordinary day-to-day isn’t nearly as intense as the on-the-road day-to-day, so I just find it hard to care too much about the small stuff. I think this also comes from the general sense of fulfillment I still feel coming off the ride. Regardless of why, I hope this also helps channel my energy towards bigger endeavors.
I’m so into new and re-kindled connections right now. If we’ve had any type of history and I’m lucky enough to be in your neighborhood, I want to catch up. I spent 30+ years focused almost exclusively on business relationships to the detriment of richer personal connections. I don’t want to do that anymore.
My blogs spent very little time on the poverty, bigotry, and disenfranchisement I saw along the way, but believe me, it’s there, and it really bothers me. Reading Hillbilly Elegy gave me a good primer (read the book, don’t bother with the movie), but seeing it first-hand for weeks on end confirmed a lot of my thoughts about how and why we’ve become so divided as a nation. I’ll write about this more in the future (see next section), but it’s more complex than I thought and won’t undue itself easily or quickly.
What to Do with All of This
There’s so much here, and admittedly, it’s kind of all over the place. I believe there’s a book in all of this, but I’m going to need some time to figure out how to best tell the story. Is it a cycling book, a memoir, a social commentary? It’s probably a bit of all of this. Turns out I have a lot of time on my hands and—more importantly—I really do like to write, so I think I’ll be able to tackle this one. I’m incredibly excited by this. When I retired, I told people I already had a few topics I wanted to write about. They’re still great topics, but I’ve always admired authors who weave compelling stories around their own lives and experiences. It just seems more true.
What’s the Next Adventure
I haven’t been joking when I’ve said Tish gets to plan the next 3 years of vacations. A lot of what’s next is up to her. We’re going to Portland next month to see Lexie and Connor, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to Scotland next year and will hike parts, but not all, of the West Highland Way. We’ve also talked about some low-key bike tours (3-5 days max) in France, Slovenia, and Croatia. I do have some personal BHAGs that are interesting to me.
I definitely will climb Kilimanjaro. Had it not been for Covid, Africa might have been on the agenda for next year.
There are some treks (hiking) that are very interesting to me. Everest Base Camp and the W Circuit in Patagonia are at the top of my list. I recently came across the Tour du Mont Blanc which is intriguing as well.
I’m told I will need to find a new place to live if I pursue an English Channel swim, but I may investigate participating in a relay swim from Los Angeles to Catalina.
In the very short run, I’m hoping to participate in a century with the JDRF cycling community in Death Valley in October. I also have a hankering to compete in a big city marathon. It’s been since 2018 since my last one (Sydney), and they are always such great experiences. I’m most interested in London, Paris, or Rome.
I also have this strange desire to become proficient in cross-country skiing—odd since I hate being cold and wet.
Most Importantly, Thank You
The ride was an adventure of a lifetime, but it wasn’t just the pedaling. Your support and encouragement will always be appreciated and remembered. I was so flattered when people described my journey as inspirational or fantastic. If I made a difference, I’m thrilled. But make no mistake about it, all of your words of encouragement, questions, contributions, and kindness was just as inspirational and fantastic to me.
Enjoy the ride…
rww