🌐 Life After Nordkapp

Surviving the "post-adventure blues"

What do you do after you’ve ridden to the end of the world?

It’s a question I’ve been wrestling with ever since returning from Nordkapp in August, having cycled over 4,000km to get there.

When I’ve completed huge feats in the past (The Velo Challenge, All Points North) my first instinct has been to immediately jump to what’s next. What’s the next big thing? What else can I conquer? What else feels impossible? And once decided, I would proceed to bury myself in the throws of training and planning and stressing about a situation that I, and I alone, had put myself in, until I’d miraculously crawl out the other side, bruised and broken, but determined to yet again do more.

Rinse and repeat over the space of three years and my insatiable thirst for seemingly inconceivable challenges has led me to somewhat of a crossroads.

Why? Because this time I don’t want to do more. In fact, I don’t know what I want to do full stop.

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Wasting Time

There’s nothing like the post-adventure blues to trigger a full-blown existential crisis. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve questioned my life or the purpose it serves, but this time it feels a whole lot more urgent, and much less likely to dissipate after a handful of hot yoga classes.

If you ask me what’s behind this sudden impasse, I’d say it has something to do with the rapid passing of time.

Bear with me on this.

Whilst I was on the bike, a day could feel like a lifetime; in a single hour I could experience three mental breakdowns, two spiritual epiphanies, and an eruption of rage so strong that I would find myself blindly cursing the wind / road / rain until my eyes stung and my throat hurt. I would feel so many emotions and see so many things within the short space of twenty-four hours that time seemed to last forever.

I remember reaching the half-way point with 2,000km to go and it genuinely feeling as though my life had always been this way; the perpetual turning of pedals, stuck in a groundhog day of eat, sleep, cycle, repeat. The concept of a finish line was such an abstract thought, and I couldn’t possibly fathom the time and effort it would take to get there - if it even existed at all.

Looking back, I was only on the road for three weeks. Not a hugely significant span of time in the grand scheme of things. But during those three weeks, my whole world shifted, and my perception of what it meant to be alive completely turned on its head.

I no longer wanted to chase the temporary highs of my next challenge, feat, or triumph. I wanted to create a life where adventure could be found in the day to day.

I loathe the fact that it’s nearly been three months since I crash landed back into the harsh reality of city lights, schedules, and social expectations, and yet it’s passed in a haze of non-events and monotonous routines. There’s not much I can recall about what’s happened, aside from the frigid step into Autumn and the depleting hours of daylight. Life is passing and I am missing it.

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New Perspectives

One of the learnings of long-distance cycling is that sometimes we need to get comfortable being uncomfortable, knowing that things will change and things will get better.

Whilst I stand by this as true, I’m also a firm believer that sometimes you need to take action now in order for things to be different later. I can’t continue exactly what I’m doing and expect a different outcome.

Which is why I feel a period of transition coming, the publishing of this newsletter being the first action; my inaugural step towards change.

Much like the majority of the world (I imagine), I’m done believing that this is all there is. Spending eight hours each day, for five days a week, enclosed within the same four walls, tapping at the same keyboard, navigating the same workplace politics, stressing about the same things that really don’t matter, screaming into the void that there’s got to be more to life than this.

I’m wondering what a world might look like where the 9-5 doesn’t exist. Where days are flexible, and time is my own. Where “work” is a diverse web of different length threads, instead of a singular tightrope with a concrete bottom. I’m wondering what a world might look like where I can chase the summers, and call anywhere “home”. Where the things that occupy my thoughts are real, and meaningful, and important, and I don’t repeatedly lose sleep over something as trivial as a Slack message.

I guess what I’m saying is that I want to explore a world outside of the rat race, where I can spend more time and energy on the things that matter; creating a life I can be proud of, and filling it with moments and memories that bring joy, connection, and purpose. I want to live intentionally, savouring the journey instead of racing to the next finish line.

Feeling something similar? Let it all out 👇

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Building Blocks

And here’s where I turn to you, dear reader, because - guess what - I don’t have the answers just yet. This is still a fledgling of an idea, a barely-planted seed, but one that I’m committed to nurturing.

Whilst I’m not ready to “throw in the towel” on the big ol’ corporate ladder just yet (because bills), what I am ready to do is start weaving the potential threads of a future web and figuring out what that world might look like.

What I do know

• I’d love to be able to spend more time outside and in nature. Whether it’s something that contributes an income, or is simply the benefit of a less rigid schedule, being able to spend more time enjoying the outdoors is pretty high on the list of “needs”. And if that thing somehow involves cycling, then all the better!

• I’m a sucker for itineraries and love it when a good plan comes together. Whether organising trips, events, or social rides, I’m in my element when I can bring like-minded people together - bonus points when there’s spreadsheets involved! I’m wondering whether there’s an ‘organisational’ element to my web.

• I find immense joy in writing and would like to think I’m pretty good at it. Piecing together words that others find value in is something that really lights my fire. My dream is to eventually publish a book that will allow me to share my stories from the road and (hopefully) inspire others to take on their own two-wheeled adventures.

• I’m a great problem solver (you can thank my career in Product Management for that), and love workshopping through an issue to come up with creative solutions. I also thoroughly enjoy talking to people to understand which obstacles, blockers, or frictions may be standing in their way (although it’s a little harder to have that conversation with myself, apparently!)

• Fitness and wellbeing will always be important to me. I’ve continued to teach early morning classes at my local gym for the best part of three years just because I love it. I enjoy being in a space that requires my full, present attention, and helping to motivate people to move their bodies and live healthier lifecycles fills me with a tremendous amount of purpose.

What I don’t know

• Whether freelance, flexible work exists in any of these spaces, and if so, what it looks like

• Whether I can realistically make a living (and pay my bills!) doing what I love, or whether it’s just a pipe dream sold to us by those who can afford to follow their dreams without consequence

• How to monetize the skills, knowledge, and credentials I already have, and what new qualifications, experience, and capabilities I might want to master

• Who to talk to, what to read, where to network, and what to say

• Will it all be worth it in the end?

Have an opportunity for me? Drop me a line👇

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Follow Through

These thoughts are not necessarily new, but I’ve always been too afraid to ‘put them out into the world’. Too scared of judgement, of rejection, of failure. The fear that my lack of direction will somehow make me less worthy.

But life is hard, and we don’t always have the answers. So this is me putting my hand up and saying “Me too”. I don’t know exactly where this path will lead, but I’m committed to giving it my all - and sharing the honest, unfiltered journey with you along the way.

And where do you come in to all of this?

Hell, I’m not even sure about that either, but I’m certain that I can’t be the only one who feels this way.

Maybe you’re someone who’s already taken the leap - chased down your dreams and built a life you genuinely, truly love.

Or maybe you’re somewhere in the middle, wondering if it’s worth pushing forward, looking for that spark, a like-minded tribe, or a newfound burst of motivation to keep you going.

Maybe you’re like me, standing at the starting line, knowing there’s something bigger out there and determined to find it.

Or maybe you’re none of these things, but you’re here for a good adventure story - one that’s just as much about life as it is about riding bikes.

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Looking Forward

Keep an eye on your inbox as I embark on my next seemingly impossible challenge of turning this dream life into a reality. Alongside all the usual adventure content, I’ll be sharing deep dives into potential career pivots, real stories from those who’ve already made the leap, and an embarrassing amount of personal pep talks. You’ll also get the honest truth about the steps I’m taking, the people I’m connecting with, and the inevitable bumps along the way. This might just be my hardest ride yet.

Follow me as I navigate life…beyond the finish line.

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P.S if you’ve enjoyed my writing so far and think others might quite like it too, it would mean the world to me if you could spread the word 💜