Losing my Bike (a little piece of myself)

I started to cycle to work from Farah’s house, it felt good to be out on my bike again. Morning cold wind against my face riding through morning traffic. It felt so free and liberating. The past couple of months I was busy wrapping up my masters I didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling of being free.
Then one day, I had the biggest shock.

I went downstairs and couldn’t see my bike. I felt frantic, did I lock it somewhere else. Then I realized it was stolen. Although its only an object, my bike had such an emotional part to me. It was the bike I rode while joining Joy Riders mornings rides, my training trips in Malaysia, to the mountains of East Timor, around Madrid and even to the countryside of Tuscany.

It was my partner in my first triathlon and even in my first duathlon. Although its a bike, it was a huge part of giving me the confidence to believe that I can achieve anything. I walked around helpless, called the police, filled a report and cried helplessly.

But one thing that I took away, was something my little brother said. He said its okay, I will buy you a new one. I was like but Ibrahim you don’t understand its not about getting a new one. This bike has been all these places with me and he was like so the next bike you get will take you to more places. I realized that its true, nothing defines what your future looks like except for you. And nothing material can take away the experience of doing something.
To new adventures and new experiences.

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