Rasper grades

Most of the days I was returning home covered with dust and dirt. I was running for hours playing football with other kids in the neighbourhood as a child. I was running, sometimes playing very ambitiously and putting all my greed to the field, day in and day out. As if I was trying to run away from things within, I kept running while playing football in high school for years too. Even when there was no sport activity in my life, I was feeling that urge to go for running in one of the crowded and mediocre suburbs of Istanbul. As years passed, this time I was running occasionally in the streets of Amsterdam.

My brother had an old classic white city bike when I was a kid. I still remember that seat on the back and the rear reflector. It was such a beautiful bike. Maybe I loved my brother's bike that much because sometimes he used to take me to the back seat and we used to take a tour around the neighbourhood. I guess I had a strong attachment to him growing up. Then he left the bike to me, I was cycling with another friend. Sometimes we were exchanging our bikes and we were chatting with each other, cycling for couple of hours and coming back home. But when my brother was gone, it was like as if the bike's soul was gone too. I could feel that loneliness inside but I just didn't know why I was feeling that way.

I never learnt how to swim as a kid. I could only play in shallow waters when we used to go to pools. I think my feeling of inferiority was coming to surface when my cousins used to come visit us and I used to watch them do all kinds of things in the water, most of the times things that I was scared the most. They were also going to swim courses too. Inside our house though, we had other matters. There was always gloomy weather, mostly we didn't talk and we didn't use to communicate on a deep level with my parents. We used to spend time together but a swimming course never cut to the list I guess. Years past, I had many occasions where I almost drowned in deep waters and yet I hadn't realise the need to go to a swimming course.

I'm starting the week this time with an intense physiotherapy examination. She applies some force to key points and I feel an immediate sense of pain all over my core and legs. She continues the examination, we talk about my current condition and she shares some feedback. We continue with a bike fit, checking if everything is in order. Talking about all my health situations, different problems, my physiology and my bike. With some set of actions, I am leaving there but I am feeling tired. This new workout schedule has shaken me off, I'm thinking to myself. I am finding it hard to believe that I am trying to maintain a seven days of workout schedule. Then I am thinking how all of this could even became possible.

I guess I would have never imagined all those roads I have ridden on the bike in the past three years. If you were to tell me that I would do triathlon in a single day and still exercise the next day, I wouldn't believe that. But the more I think about it, the more it becomes clear for me that I had to first lose everything I had, and then rediscover them all. That was the only exit for me in that dark pit of depression. I had to remember how much I loved cycling and how transformative it was for me. I had to remember that how the winds of fall walked through my skin on the saddle. Probably I will remember for the rest of my life that when I lost all my connections and lost the meaning of my life, how cycling saved me and connected me back to the colours of life again. How it reminded to me that, even though there was nothing at home that was touching my soul; there were roads to go through.

I would be shocked to see myself swimming non stop for hours if that was shown to me ten years back. I would be scared to see myself diving to three meters, touching to ground with a winter clothing and boots. I would thought I wasn't capable any of this. With a gentle advice and full support, there I was jumping to water learning swimming as a 27 year old adult. I think I talked about my fears in the water for dozens of hours with my mentors. Each tried to calm me down, listened to my experiences and told me it was okay. There were many days I wanted to quit or just find an excuse to skip it. If I wanted to, I could have given many excuses why I wasn't comfortable in the pool. But that was the exact point. Being uncomfortable in the presence of my confrontations.

Maybe all of those triathlon workouts, gym sessions, yoga flows looked strong from outside. In reality, I was in pain every single week. I was trying to heal from past experiences, I was trying to build muscle memories and I was trying so hard to push one more week forward with another therapy session. There were so many workouts where I wasn't having the confidence, I was sceptic of why I was doing all of that. I was doubting myself constantly. But in all of that, I just did one thing I kept moving. Becuse there was nothing in the past that could help me. The only way was forward no matter what season it was or what mood I was having. This world was just too painful for me to breathe in. And I was feeling sorry because my perception was making me perceive everything that painful.

There was a hope I was hanging to though. Hope of that one day I would heal. One day, I would do one more mental or physical flexibility workout and I would realize one more thing. That would yield a new perspective and new questions. Which would make me handle the difficult situations easier. That hope made me keep going. The support of many instructors, mentors and team mates made all of that possible. So I could see my thirtieth birthday. Today, I am feeling grateful that I made it to thirty even though I wanted to give up many times. I am feeling grateful of that feeling to push one more pedal, one more stroke and one more step forward. I am grateful of everything that happened to me, for making me what I am today.