As I woke up on October 7th, the day after the World Championships, I had a strange feeling: I was no longer a cyclist. My identity had disappeared into nothingness. While some aspects of the transformation feel like a crucifixion initially, the new realm of possibilities lying ahead of me, like a ray of light coming from a cloud, is enough to confirm that I am following the right path.

To give you some context, I competed in my first cycling race at the age of four. For the next twenty-three years, almost all my life has been dedicated to trying to achieve the best possible results in that sport. It is the kind of dedication it took me to make meaningful progress.

I was nowhere as physically talented as many cyclists, especially as I grew, but I had some cards to draw. One of them is my resilience. I cannot tell you how many times I performed unusually, much more than I was capable of doing on a regular basis. When the odds were great, I sometimes could push myself into a new realm of discomfort to achieve a meaningful feat. It is that way that I claimed my bronze medal at the track Nationals and my international victories.

Also, I lost many times but was always motivated to return stronger. No matter how much I fell, it seemed that I always trusted it was worth coming back. I would not call myself a believer at the time, but now, writing these lines makes it clear that this is the behavior one can expect from a genuine believer. That person would see defeats and suffering as opportunities to grow and always move forward, keeping a heart filled with gratitude, even through the dark age of shadows.

My resilience is completed by a profound need to seek the truth; they logically go hand in hand. One cannot seek the truth if he is unable to handle the discomfort of learning from mistakes. This profound drive is the reason I started bike fitting, and I began to coach myself as I was dissatisfied with the standard approaches. I needed to uncover the truth. I knew there was a way things ought to be done. There was a Logos of bike fitting and training. Indeed, I progressively wanted to have complete responsibility for my choices. I would later understand that this responsibility is called adulthood; this is the responsibility to constantly seek the truth, live by it, and transmit it to those around you. However, it should not be mistaken for radical independence, as any reasonable human knows that the number one reason life is worth living is relationships.

So now, I am making the most profound change of my life: from rider to philosopher. I refused to embrace it entirely earlier, but the reality is that this year was already the right one to make it. Indeed, if one attempts to fill up two glasses with one liter of water the same way, he can only end up with fifty centiliters per glass—the water is one’s energy. This analogy illustrates the main mistake I made this year. We can once again go back to the concept of focusing on a single endeavor that I explored earlier. It appears that endeavors can be multiple if they fit under a single meta one. That main endeavor is the reflection of the main archetype one embodies. One should strive to pour all his water into a single glass.

While that change is painful, it is also necessary. Life is a constant change. While the physical pursuit lit up my heart for many years, it is now time to let the intellectual pursuit take its place. As a child, I was given a lot; now, as an adult, it is my time to give back the change I had. Of course, I will continue to train as I believe firmly in what a man ought to be: the body of an athlete and the mind of a philosopher. I am always trying to lead by example, or I should say to live the way I believe to be the right way. I try never to do something that people should not if we want to improve the world.

It is our personal responsibility to follow what we are called to do. I know how scary it can be, but that is what God wants for you. Would you rather take the risk of stagnation even if it meant not truly living? “What does not kill you makes you stronger,” Nietzsche famously said. That is why that component of faith appears to be necessary. Reason can only bring us so far. We can reach our hands to the sky, but something will always be missing. Perhaps He can extend His hand down to give us the courage necessary to act.

To expand on this concept of faith, the most religious people are sometimes the least religious and inversely. Religiosity is proved by one’s ability to act virtuously and confidently even though, from the outside, it might sometimes look counterintuitive to some minds to do so. Indeed, I mean when one believes he should not be scared to act. More precisely, one can be scared but have sufficient faith not to let his fear prevent him from pursuing his enterprise. He acts despite the fear of change, knowing the potential reward outweighs the risk.