When Life Says “Nope”

Hey everyone,

Long time no chat, right? My last update was back in August, and since then, it feels like life decided to test just how serious I am about staying active and keeping healthy. My goal to keep my heart strong and avoid the health issues that took my dad way too early has been my motivation all year. But, as you probably know, life sometimes has a way of throwing wrenches into your plans just when you think you’re on a roll.

So, here’s the story of the last couple of months and how one setback led to another. After a great bikepacking holiday with Jana—long rides, quiet trails, just the good stuff—we came back recharged and ready to dive back into training. We even had a shoot lined up for Hammerhead to capture some “action shots” of us riding. Everything was lined up perfectly. Then, while I was setting up for the perfect angle, I stepped right onto a root I didn’t see. Pop. My ankle gave out.

Now, I’ve had enough ankle issues over the years to know this meant time off the bike. And man, when you’re on a roll, an injury like this stings. I could barely walk without a limp, let alone pedal. I had some big photo jobs lined up, so I made the (very frustrating) decision to fully rest. No bike, no training, just waiting for that ankle to heal so I wouldn’t make things worse and end up hobbling through shoots. I thought, Alright, let’s get through the jobs, heal up, and then jump back into training.

But as soon as my ankle was feeling good again and I was gearing up to ride, life threw another twist: COVID. Not as rough as the first time around, thankfully, but it was still enough to put everything on pause again. This time, I wasn’t about to risk it, so I took my doctor’s advice and waited a full week after the last symptom before I even thought about riding again. It wasn’t exactly fun, but I knew playing it safe was the right call.

Finally, with my ankle back in one piece and the all-clear from the doctor, I thought I was ready to start training again. But after all that time off, I felt like an old man, like my legs had been swapped out for lead weights. So, I set up the indoor trainer, figuring I’d ease in slow, and wow, let me tell you—indoor training is not my thing. You’re stuck in one place, there’s no fresh air, and instead of feeling strong, I was just reminded of how out of shape I felt. My heart rate shot up like I’d never worked out a day in my life, my legs were sluggish, and I had to laugh at myself for huffing and puffing like an out-of-practice grandpa.

It’s funny how quickly your confidence takes a hit when you’re not moving forward. Indoor riding didn’t help, either. It’s tough to stay motivated when you’re staring at a wall (or a screen) instead of cruising down an open road. And just to add to the fun, my knee started acting up, probably from the repetitive pedaling motion on the trainer. There I was, hoping to jump right back into things, and instead, I felt like I’d aged about 20 years.

But even though the whole thing’s been frustrating, it’s also reminded me why this journey matters. Staying healthy isn’t just about the high points or feeling strong; it’s also about sticking with it when everything feels heavy. Sure, these setbacks can make you feel like you’re back at square one, but I’ve realized that moving forward—no matter how slowly—is still progress. My dad’s health issues didn’t wait around for the “perfect time,” and I can’t afford to give up every time things get rough. This journey isn’t just about big achievements. It’s about showing up, even if I feel like I’m 80 years old doing it.

Tomorrow, though, Jana and I are finally heading out for a real ride. Fresh air, that crisp November sky, some actual gravel beneath the tires—no trainers, no walls, just us and the open road. I’m a bit nervous. I’m hoping my knee holds up and that I don’t feel totally out of shape. But I know the road’s got its own way of putting everything in perspective. And honestly, I’m hoping the rhythm of the ride will bring back that sense of freedom I’ve been missing.

So that’s where things are for now. Thanks for sticking with me through the quiet months. I’ll keep you posted on how tomorrow’s ride goes—even if it’s a bit slow and wobbly at first.

Ride on,
Björn