If we were sitting down for a drink right now, I’d admit this: I haven’t figured life out. I just keep pedaling and hope life doesn’t run me over first.
September 2024 dropped three milestones on me: a birthday (with a fat bike I swore would make me look like an REI action hero), a new house (Ana and I finally planted roots in Tampa), and the start of what felt like a brand-new life – Florida style, of course!
When Hurricanes Park Your Dreams in the Garage
Two weeks later, two hurricanes crashed our housewarming party. The house stood, but my fat-bike dreams drowned under tarps, insurance calls, and the sharp reminder that Mother Nature doesn’t give a damn about your plans.
That pause wasn’t the gift I asked for. But looking in the rearview mirror, maybe it was the one I needed. Storms (whether they’re spinning in the sky or spinning through your business) have a brutal way of stripping things down to what actually matters. They don’t just destroy; they peel away everything not built to last and force you to rebuild with more clarity, more purpose, and a whole lot more respect for what really counts.
Pedaling Through the Wreckage: What Storms Actually Teach You
Fast forward to this September. Instead of unwrapping something shiny, I’m receiving something far better: a remodeled home that’s stronger and more beautiful than before, a calmer life that actually fits, and finally, the peace of mind to dust off that bike and see what this fat biker can do.
And if there’s one lesson this anniversary pedals home, it’s this: just keep showing up. Even when life parks your bike in the garage and tells you to wait.
Even when the storms hit harder than you expected. Even when the timeline gets completely rewritten by forces beyond your control.
Because courage (and the stubbornness to continue) don’t just attract luck. They create it, one pedal stroke at a time.
I thought buying that bike was about instant gratification: hop on and ride into the Florida sunset. Turns out, the real gift was delayed. But when the storms cleared, when the waiting ended, when I finally swung a leg over that bike? It was sweeter because I’d earned every mile.
Storms strip away the weak stuff. What survives? That’s where you rebuild. Here’s to one year of hurricanes, hard lessons, and new beginnings. And here’s to chasing the American Dream the only way I know: with Brazilian grit, one stubborn pedal stroke at a time.
Roger – Professional Window Dresser and Retired Snow Shoveler
