Back in black

It's been quite some time since I've written a blog, but I'm going to give it another shot.

Lately, I've been obsessed with the idea of riding my bike across the country. This has been a dream of mine for numerous years, but I never knew why until just the other day.

I remember the first time I rode a two wheeler. It was a cool summer morning in June of 1989, my dad had just taken the training wheels off of my old bike. They were probably on my bike longer than they had to be, as I rode perfectly across the street to my friends house to play. I often wonder what my dad thought as he watched me take those first unassisted pedal strokes. A few years later, I made the first major purchase of my life. At 14 years of age, using money I earned as a dishwasher for a local catering company, I bought a black Giro helmet for $50. I don't know what it was, but something about the open road and seeing the sights of my hometown under the power of my own two legs soothed my soul.

I remember applying to work at Bike Nashbar nearly every month from the age of 14 and 1/2 until they finally called me in for a job interview after I turned 16. It was there I learned why aluminum is better than steel, what the difference between a hybrid bike and comfort bike, and how clipless pedals make you a better rider. I bought my first real mountain bike, then I bought a road bike. It didn't matter much if it was dirt or pavement, riding was my outlet. I was able to deal with things like bombing a test, getting dumped by my girlfriend, the unfair life of a teenage boy but putting in miles on my bike. It was rewarding, calming, peaceful. Riding was my way to deal with all of life's problems.

I rode my bike to ease my mind. After I finished, I would unclip my pedals, take off my helmet, and run my hand through my sweaty hair. A few minutes would go by before I started over thinking things again and all the clarity brought on by my ride would be replaced by fog and confusion.

The last three years of my life have been foggy and confusing. Losing a child is devastating, and I've come to the realization that if I want to clear my head this time, it's going to take one hell of a bike ride.

I hope that the ride will help me make sense of losing Sophia. I hope it teaches me who I am now and who I still need to become not just for myself, but for my wife and living daughters.