Do The Right-est Thing

Disclaimer: the following post will portray as if cycling and running are the only things in my life, but they are not. This is just a zoom in, into a very specific part of my life and it doesn’t by any means, represents all of it. This is going to be a long post. I am not an Instagram person, Strava in where I usually connect with those that mean the most to me.

In 2024, after another setback at Valencia Marathon, where I failed to break the 2:40 mark, despite the tremendous effort I put preparing, something inside me snapped and I decided to go back to my original sport: Cycling.

It started very gradual; twice a week, then trice…. Until it became a full-on schedule; and of course, this big time investment came at the expense of its sibling sport… Running.
Running, just like cycling was more than just a “Sport” to me. It was the friendship, the community, the constant grinding, the endless sunrises, it was that 5 minutes car ride from home to our training spot… It was pure bliss. My running group became my home, it is where I found friends who became family, but most importantly, it felt like a place - outside time and space - where I could be with those who mattered the most to me.

Just like running, cycling/zwifting found me a new family, a new community - even if it’s mostly virtual - but this is where I met some of the finest and most humble athletes in the world. Some of the friendships I made IRL have evolved to become something way beyond cycling, but also the friends I made within the Zwift community are as real. We ride together, day in day out (sometimes twice a day), we race, we suffer, we win, we lose, we TTT every Thursday morning, we race on Tuesday evenings. The bond is real, the family is real.

Fast forward to Summer 2026 and here I am probably at the lowest point of my life. In parallel to all this champagne supernova and the non-stop 24/7 cycling/raving party, was an endless struggle with depression, inner-daemons, self-loathing and substance addiction; but none of that mattered, since the next workout was a few hours away, and the next race is only couple of days away and the next group ride is starting in 15 minutes.

There was no time to slow down and realize what was happening. Fueled by passion/obsession, and adrenaline (and carbs and caffeine of course, but that’s a different topic all together) I never looked back, I never paused to see what was happening around me. My family was supportive; my professional life was doing great… all the lights were green to keep the pedal to the metal; and in July 2026 I became the road national champion. Perfect outcome to all the efforts and sacrifices I’ve made.

But were all the lights really green? Or did I develop color blindness?

Q: Was I happy? A: only when on the bike or when doing bike related activities/tasks.
Q: was I fitter? A: Yes, absolutely, fitter than I have ever been.
Q: But what about those people that I’ve described with a lot of tenderness and personal emotion? A: If I had to answer that question in 2025, I would say they’re ok. But, now summer 2026, it’s all gone. A lot of those bonds had been reduced to ashes.
Q: what about my psychological and substance use problems? A: Gotten worse.

By the time I figured out the answer to the third and fourth questions it might have been too late to undo the harm (at least for question 3).

At first there was only one remedy! I had to walk away from cycling! Despite everything that it meant to me. It was evident: I had to retrace my steps, return to Neverland, recover Tinker Bell and the version of myself I had left behind. But it was too late. Adults could never go to Neverland, only children could, and I could not reverse time.

This was by no means a small loss, nor was it something I could simply accept and ride away from. No matter how fast or how long I rode, I could not shake this out of my head.

Two essential pillars of my life had collided: the people who had given me a sense of home, and the sport that had given me purpose, joy and a better version of myself. It felt as though choosing one meant betraying the other. And when two things that hold you up begin pulling you in opposite directions, you do not know which one to release without collapsing.

Cycling did not cause my depression, my addiction or the losses I experienced. It gave me purpose, joy, friendships and some of the greatest moments of my life. I was the one who turned this constant circular motion into a way of never having to stop.

Maybe, the question that I need to answer is: could I confront what is happening inside me instead of trying to outrun it or outride it?

So, despite everything I lost along the way, do I still have the courage to choose cycling? Maybe not the obsession; but yet again, this is the only way I can exist. Obsessing all the way.

Walking away might look like the right thing.

Learning to stay - without hiding from myself- does seem as the right-est thing.

P.S. I borrowed the title from Ted Lasso, a TV series that means so much to my son. If you haven’t seen it, make sure you do. ❤️