I've found my way back to cycling after Covid and Post-Covid after being a bit scared. The plans of a nice summer of gravel adventures and a possible bikepacking trip to Norway went up in smoke. Things are not the same, but I'm back at my passion.
Västerås, Sweden. 10-07-2022 Text: Ebbe Silva
Covid panic
The month of May came here in Scandinavia, and the dreams of unending gravel roads comforted my restless and tired soul. I could almost hear the satisfying crunching sound of gravel under my tires and couldn't wait to go out. I went to the bike drawer and got my axe out so I could sharpen it, saw this guy building a nice little bushcraft chair on YouTube, and figured this could be cool for the next microadventure by bike. It was warm outside, but I was feeling cold. Better check if the balcony window is open. I got up too fast and became dizzy at once. Bloodsugar? I'm a diabetic, so that wasn't too strange. Checked levels, all normal. I might be hungry, I thought, I'll grab a bite at the store, need to buy a few things anyway. Well at the store the thought ocurred to me: hm, maybe I've got Covid? I bought a test, and when I came home my fears came through, and - oh, great, I'm feverish too! Panic struck fast! No, oh hell no, I wanna ride, I don't want to sit home all summer! Needless to say, it was pretty much what happened. The uninvited virus remained until the first weeks of August, and I had to learn the meaning of Post-Covid as well. I was vaccinated, so I skipped the difficulties breathing even thoug I had coughing attacks that left me a wreck. Nevertheless the virus found a way to my tummy.
Misfortunes never come singly
The virus affected my already weak liver, my levels went bananas and became weaker and weaker. My motivation decided it was just too much and took a vacation. Noticing the vacant spot my depression said: hello, just a quick not to say I'm still here. Lord, misfortunes never come singly! Here's the thing: I'm not only passionate about cycling, I need it so I can find balance in my life! Time to gather all I've learned through the years (one of the few advantages of getting old) and apply against it, just have to find some strength - and my medicine! I have experienced worse down periods in life, so I decided to adjust my gravel dreams instead of giving up on them. A bit of faith helped, since I had no idea of how this Covid thing would play out. Gotta find my way back!
The way back is always closer
Two months had passed and I began to feel a little better. I had some moments of strength the were like waves lasting one morning, but then I had to lay down exhausted in the late afternoon. I took a few walks to check how I felt. The first one was terrible, moved very slow and had to go back home after less than one kilometer. My belly was in complete disarray and I became very impatient being driven from place to place always with a backpack with toilet paper in case things went (way down) South. My physician agreed: Post-Covid got the best out of me. More waiting, less action, but at least I was getting better. I agreed to take care of my daughter's dogs as she was working more hours - and, that ended up being a great idea! I've owned dogs before and love their company! So, the way back was closer than what I thought! Who could resist such lovely creatures? I decided to walk more and it worked! And, of course, I had to take them on few short rides, and it worked! I was miserable later in the day, but that feeling subsided the more we rode. Short rides, closer to home than usual, and in good company, my way back!
After the dogs left I decided to keep the short rides and made sure to include a stop by the cows, the little pond with the ducks, and the greenish waters of the nearby creek where I could stand at the bridge and see the tiny fish scrambling for a careless mosquito. I stayed close to home and didn't overdo it. I also mounted fenders and my randonneur bag on the bike again, a ready-for-all approach so I could focus on my recovery and just riding no matter the weather. Food, coffee, toilet paper, a first aid kit, mini tool, spare tubes, leatherman, and a few other items that made me feel safe.
What I've learned
I found my way back to cycling, the results are beginning to show. My body is still not feeling as before, but I'm getting better with every turn of the wheels. The virus taught me new limits, but those do not feel limiting in any way, shape or form. I see them as warning signs or, if you prefer, like your buddies along the the gravel race track waiting with food, parts and water, waiving at you as if saying: you've got this, but you ain't no Marvel superhero - get your snacks, stop, rest, drink - see you at the next checkpoint!
I'm beginning to dream about Norway again!
Stay heavy n' rolling!
