“Hey Michal, I was thinking… what would you say if I gave it a second chance?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You were in love with me.”
“I do care about you, but do you really want someone you said I was too old for you, never goes anywhere, and doesn’t have what you’re looking for?”

There was a time when I desperately wanted someone from my past to come back into my life. It never happened. I was disappointed. Especially with those people where I felt that they could have been the right partner for life. We could have built something together. Today, I no longer wait for a message or a phone call. I keep moving forward, even though I still feel like there are things I don’t fully understand.

Cycling has taught me a lot. There are very simple moments that I don’t always recognize immediately. Then there are lessons that leave me with valuable experiences. The same goes for organizing my group rides. What we present on social media looks nice. But there is a whole lot happening behind the scenes. I enjoy it, even though sometimes it drives me crazy.

Perhaps the situations that frustrate me the most are always about figuring out who is actually coming and who is interested. Every month, I get 20/40 messages from new guys. They hesitate. They don’t know whether they should come and ride with us. I don’t blame anyone for that. I don’t go to many events myself. Especially when I see someone riding without a helmet or pulling a beer out of their backpack…

After the basic conversation, whether they wear a helmet, whether their legs give out after the first steep climb. I send them the route map, the time, and the meeting point. And then, usually, nothing happens. This is what happens about 90% of the time when someone messages me.

Every now and then, someone who said they would come actually shows up at the starting point, even after hesitating for several months. In the beginning, I had to bite my tongue because I wanted to tell them off. I mean, surely it’s only polite to send a message saying you’re not coming. It bothered me especially when we had a planned stop for Kofola and goulash and I needed to know how many people were coming.

A lot of people want to ride with someone, but they don’t always have anyone to ride with, and maybe they don’t know where to go either. I put together the route, the date, the starting time, the group, and I invite other enthusiasts like us to join. 

After all, riding in a group is an experience. We don’t just get to know each other; we also discover new places. I’m happy when guys meet through our group and then continue riding together outside of it as well.

The whole thing is voluntary. There is no place for anger or insults. We can talk about basic courtesy, though. If I’ve promised to come, the least I can do is let someone know that I won’t make it.

I’m realizing that a team works much like life does. Things happen. It’s unpredictable. One time the weather doesn’t cooperate, another time it’s the guys, then it’s the equipment. Everything keeps turning, changing, repeating itself. Somehow, in the end, it’s beautiful how everything fits together. There are guys who tried it once and never came back. Also there are guys who keep coming back regularly.

I’m convinced there are people who want to ride with someone, and maybe the group around me is exactly what some of them are looking for. That’s why I keep looking at two possibilities: should I worry about whether someone replies to my invitation, or should I simply focus on the next rides?

 I use the online world to promote our group rides. At the last one I promoted, four new guys showed up. That’s awesome. I tweaked the concept of the invitations a little and sent it out into the world.

The whole point is for us, as a group, to ride together, relax, and see something new. Maybe someone will also improve their fitness or riding technique by riding with us. After all, not everyone has mountains in their backyard.

Maybe I’m worrying about stupid things. But when I’m trying to create something, I notice every little detail. also I experience it differently when it directly affects me.

I believe that when I stop creating anything, my days are numbered. That doesn’t mean you have to work hard every single day. It’s important to know how to switch off and let yourself breathe, too. Creating things is a way of life for me.

Life is meant to be lived. Things happen. There are days when the sun shines a little brighter. Then there are days when the wind blows. I make decisions that, in that particular moment, I believe are the best ones. What I don’t know is what those decisions will bring me, or what might have happened if I had chosen differently.

The decisions I make affect other people, my surroundings, and my future in one way or another. But there is another side to the coin: the world makes decisions too, and some of them affect not only my days, but entire periods of my life, what I experience, what I notice, and what I see.

I’m not angry with anyone from my past. I’m just not sure I want to sit down for lunch or dinner with everyone again. I think any relationship is voluntary. It should be based on both people actually wanting something from it.

Would I be willing to give someone another chance?
I don’t know.

Maybe these are pointless thoughts, and perhaps no one from my past will ever come back into my life.

When I move among people, each of us reacts differently. We all carry a backpack full of situations and experiences that I know nothing about. And with that comes the occasional misstep. I step on someone’s toes without even realizing it. On top of that, many things simply don’t turn out the way I want them to.

Who knows how it really is.

The further I go, the more I believe that there is something good in every one of us. Sometimes, though, I hurt people unnecessarily because I don’t always see things from the same perspective as the other person, or the third person. Maybe I take everything too personally. Maybe I don’t allow life to be as light and easy as it could be.

Who knows what it’s like for the people around us.