A Bumpy Year, and What It Taught Me About Resilience

Reflections on recovery, resilience, and redefining strength after a year of setbacks on and off the bike.

As this year draws to a close, I’ve found myself reflecting on a season that didn’t quite go to plan. Not in a dramatic, headline-grabbing way, just in the slow accumulation of things that required adjustment, patience, and far more recovery than I’d anticipated.

It’s fair to say it’s been a rather bumpy year. pardon the pun.

It started on 29 December last year, when I came off my bike and fractured my pelvis in four places. Not an ideal way to finish one year or start another, especially with a European season looming. What followed was a careful, sometimes frustrating process of rebuilding fitness. Not chasing form, but earning it back quietly, piece by piece.

By the time I arrived in Europe, I felt ready. Not invincible, and definitely not as fit as I usually am at that point in the season, but prepared. And then life, as it tends to do, added a few extra plot twists.

After the retreat in Provence finished, I was back in Lucca and out riding when a van tried to squeeze past me and I came off my bike again. Aside from some skin missing and a few bruises, I was fine. Once I dusted myself off, had a drink and some sugar, I rode back in as I was only about 10km from the centre.

Later in the year, while in the Loire Valley with a group, I came off my bike again in a random accident. This time I injured my back, which meant stepping off the bike for the rest of the week and adapting how I rode going into the Girona retreat.

Then back in Australia, my car was written off while I was in it. It wasn't my fault, but another jolt to the system. And somewhere along the way, my body decided it had had enough, breaking out in eczema across my chest, neck, and face, which I’m fairly certain was less about skincare and more about accumulated stress.

None of these moments, on their own, were catastrophic. But stacked together, they told a story I couldn’t ignore. There were also some quieter professional changes happening in the background that added to the overall load of the year.

What this year really taught me is how cumulative load works, not just physically, but emotionally and neurologically too. The body is remarkably good at coping, until it isn’t. And being “fine” is not the same thing as being well.

For someone who lives and works in this space - cycling, movement, adventure, it was a timely reminder that recovery isn’t something you squeeze in once the work is done. It is the work.

I had to rethink what “getting fit” actually meant. It stopped being about peak weeks or numbers and became about consistency and listening. Some weeks that meant riding less. Some weeks it meant riding gently. And some weeks it meant getting off the bike altogether and letting my nervous system catch up.

Resilience, I’ve realised, isn’t about pushing harder when things get uncomfortable. It’s about adapting without losing momentum. About knowing when to hold steady, when to back off, and when to trust that slowing down is what keeps you moving forward in the long run.

This year also quietly reshaped how I think about Soulfit Adventures. Why rest days have always been built in. Why the rhythm of our retreats matters as much as the routes. Why the balance of effort and indulgence isn’t a luxury, it’s what allows people to feel strong, present, and genuinely well by the end of the week.

I’m still riding. Still planning for 2026. But I’m doing it with a deeper respect for recovery, for space, and for the kind of strength that doesn’t shout.

If this year taught me anything, it’s that longevity matters, on the bike, in business, and in life. And sometimes the strongest move you can make is not pushing through, but paying attention.

Here’s to smoother roads ahead. And to staying upright - mostly.