Committed

I’ve been thinking about commitment. And fear. And vulnerability. Maybe triumph has crossed my mind, but not really because that feels too finite, final.

Looking forward at the three-month, 3000-plus-mile journey ahead, I quiver a bit. Sure, I’ve done something similar before, but not across eight borders in nine foreign countries—one of which just opened its borders to American visitors since I’ve been alive, and another that has a federal travel advisory. Casting my mind forward into its immensity, I don’t feel strong enough to endure it. Trying to think about it in total, I start to feel nervous and vulnerable… so many train tracks to get my wheels stuck in; so many cobblestones to rattle my brain!

Yet, I am committed. With each passing day, I run (or should I say, ride?) straight into the immensely unknowable adventure. The more I commit, the more apprehension recedes. This journey on bicycle from Portugal to Albania is happening. Embracing each day with steadfast, unshakeable excitement makes no room for fear. Triumphant is forward-looking optimism for all I will encounter and all my body will do. 

I promise all this writing you read here will not be overstretched metaphors… but… I sense a connection between these feelings of fear, vulnerability, commitment and triumph that arise around the bike trip, to similar ones that arise around the concept of being married to one person for the rest of my life.

Thinking about it in total, my brain short-circuits in a puff of unsure fear. But knowing I am committed to this daily project of partnership, and that each new day will reveal just that day’s adventure, makes me feel strong and unflappably willing to keep riding. After all, marriage will be a long ride!

An unknowably long boardwalk along Vila Nova de Gaia’s beaches, near Porto, Portugal. The adventure has begun!