Hanging up my bike

Hello fellow dads! Just a week after HFMD, my daughter is sick again. Argh. I instinctively felt annoyed at the disruption and wanted to complain about how unfair it is. I didn't like that gut reaction, so I revisited my note on self-pity, which has two new quotes:

"Self-pity and resentment are among the most toxic of drugs."—John Gardner

"Never lie, never cheat, never steal. Don't whine, don't complain, don't make excuses."—John Wooden

This too shall pass! Parents with sick kids, I see you. Hang in there.

Alfred

Hanging up my bike

When we become parents, we lose a little of our old selves.

For me, there's Alfred the father, who is hands-on with my kids and cooks dinner for my family on most days. Then there's Alfred the husband, who wants to spend as much time with my wife as possible. And then there's Alfred the co-provider, who is getting my business off the ground to contribute financially. If we peel away all the layers, there is also Alfred the self.

Alfred the self has his own dreams and demands, too. I was a triathlete who loved cycling and traveled for races. Triathlon was a huge part of my life. Once I had kids, I stopped almost all of my training. I haven't cycled for more than a year. I don't even think about racing locally. As Zach Baron wrote, "With two, that old life is so completely gone it's like it never even happened. It is a planet you cannot return to."

It sounds sad but it's more complicated than that. We all deal with the loss of our old self in different ways. Some parents grow into their new self and devote their lives to their children and partner. Some wish to revisit their former self from time to time and have their parents or nannies look after their children. There are also those in between who are conflicted. Some resent parts of their new life while also feeling ashamed about their resentment. Some long for the old days but also love their new life. I have been all of them at various points.

My relationship with cycling has changed a lot over the last three years. Before my wife and I had kids, I used to ride about 200 km each weekend. After our son was born, I took an indefinite hiatus. Once he could sleep better at night, my wife encouraged me to resume my Sunday rides. I rode about once a month, and it felt nice to be cycling again. But I realized I felt less strongly about it.

So, when I found out that my wife was pregnant again, I didn't hesitate to drop the hobby. I didn't want my pregnant wife to look after our energetic son by herself. With two children, I also became more risk averse. (Road cycling in Singapore is rather dangerous; my wife has seen many cyclists die in the A&E after a crash.)

I still love cycling but I don't love cycling in Singapore as much now. Emotionally, I'm still attached to it. But logically, I'm not. Do I want to wake up at 4:15 am on a Sunday to feel the cold air hit my face as I speed through roads filled with reckless, angry drivers? I suspect I am mostly missing the feeling of cycling and am nostalgic about "the good old days" rather than actually wanting to be on the bike. Or maybe all this is just self-justification so that I don't feel like a selfish parent. Either way, it is okay to miss something but not want to do it. Humans are complex!

Regardless of whether my love for bike rides has shrunk, my love for my kids has grown as I've gotten to know them better, and it has slowly eclipsed the former. A mentor once told me he views life in seasons. My last season was triathlon; my current season is fatherhood. Now, on the weekends, I get to sleep in until 7 am, enjoy a slow, chaotic breakfast with my family, and play in the pool with my kids.

Every morning, when I step out of my room, I see my Giant TCR Advanced road bike hanging on our living room wall. Do I want to go back to cycling? Maybe. But I'm in no hurry. The bike will still be on the wall next season. My kids won't be three and one again.