I’m on the first day of my journey from Perth to Sydney, and it’s been fourteen hours since I hit the start button on my computer. It will be another three before I reach my first stop. The shoulder of the road appears and disappears as trucks continue to convoy past, and I zigzag in and out of traffic

It’s been a little while since I sent out a newsletter. I underestimated the time it would take me to process last year, pick up the pieces of my life back in Australia, and put together an answer to the question I got asked a lot upon returning: What’s next?

The penciling for ‘what’s next’ has certainly begun, and I feel fortunate to have a few different paths to ponder. I’m trying not to sit with my feelings too long, as I know it’s easy to get swept away in the deepness of our thoughts.

Well, Covid got me good. Quietly, I  almost enjoyed the forced, guilt-free downtime. But, by the third week of brain fog, fatigue, congestion & a head-to-toe rash (gross), I was pretty damn close to calling it and booking a flight back to Australia.

The Bnb’s toilet hindered the morning ritual of getting ready for the race, as an overnight storm had switched off the pump that worked the flush. Anyone who has raced knows the importance of the pre-race-poo, and at 6 am Avery and I were manically riding around the streets to find a toilet without a queue.

I’m trying to lean into these feelings and dissect how they can make me grow and become stronger. Behind my mountain views, sunsets and time on two wheels, I’m doing a hell of a lot of growing. I’m hurting, happy, scared, strong, and just figuring out what this crazy world means. 

With my own disappointment comes my ability to zoom out. When leaving for the US in April, I was clear that the Grand Prix events were seven days. It’s seven days of this entire journey I’m on.

I had mentally prepared to be alone on this trip, and that there would be many challenges I would have to face alone. I have been crumpled so many times already by the kindness, generosity and welcoming of people. I’m learning I’m never truly alone, to not be afraid to say yes and to just be present in the moment.

I just felt so calm in the lead-up to this race. The unknown scares us, but for me, racing is so familiar, even halfway across the world. I know how to pin a number on, and I know how to clip into my pedals when the gun goes off. From there, you just have to do your best and focus on what you can control.

They say you shouldn’t work with children or animals, but I think something should also be said about travelling with two bikes.