2020—A year that sucked but that was still good

Just a few more hours, and then the annus horribilis 2020 will be just another "remember how we thought the world was going to come to a grinding halt?" moment in our far-too-short lives. Remember Y2K? It's difficult to put things into perspective when everything is distorted and seemingly grotesque.

I'm not in the least bit trying to downplay how bad this year was. All those who lost family and friends to COVID-19 have suffered so much. People who lost their jobs, their homes, their livelihoods—what carnage they had to and still have to endure. Even though I have personally not been affected in a direct way, I read and listen enough to know how bad it was and still is.

I've been lucky, despite not having been able to work races and travel and see loved ones near and very far the way I usually do. For one thing, I've stayed healthy, physically and mentally. As a retiree who has planned for this period of my life for many years, I didn't experience the financial hardships that so many of our fellow citizens continue to face on a daily basis. And finally, I made the best out of a fucked-up situation, not letting it dictate everything in my life.

That's how I ended up down in Costa Rica for the Christmas holidays, and that's how I spent time in Mexico and five US states, riding my bike, staying socially distanced, and enjoying my life as much as possible. Instead of bemoaning the cancellation of the various international bike races to which I had been assigned, I relived the memories of those two early-season trips to Argentina and Brazil.

So, the German Generalkonsulat in Houston may have (temporarily, I hope) taken away my German passport and told me that, oops, you haven't been a citizen since 1987, but I refuse to let that change who I am, and I hope the courts will agree with me. There have been moments of despair, but they last only so long and generally I prefer to look at the bright side. And there was a lot of brightness.

When I started this blogpost, I was reflecting on 2020 while sitting on the deck of my beautiful Airbnb in Chacarita. Let me put it this way: This may not have been the best year (or the year we all hoped for or maybe even expected), but it was not a wasted year. We can't allow ourselves to think this way. This would be giving in and not allowing ourselves to be in charge. And I can say that I took charge of as much as I possibly could, given the circumstances.

Riding 368 miles over the course of the past two weeks in Costa Rica allowed me to see and experience a small part of a small country in a much more intimate way than I might have been able to had it not been for the pandemic. Would I have had those two wonderful weeks in Oaxaca had this been a normal year? What about exploring parts of Missouri and Arkansas? Reconnecting with Martha and Alan not just in New Mexico but at their place in Temple, coming and going when I had condo stays down south? 

Social contacts were sparse, and I miss them. Gosh, the unease with which we now interact! Just like everyone, I hate it. Just two days ago I left a country where I have close to a dozen friends whom I would have loved to have seen again—Ana Maria, Pacheco & Nelly, Andres, Francisco, and all you others. The damn pandemic (and prudence) ruled that out. 

The problem is that we have only so many opportunities to meet with old friends, only so much time to do stuff we always dreamed of. Just like you, I lost valuable time in this eternal battle with life's cruel reality, but I think I've done OK limiting the losses.

This really was supposed to be a blogpost about the second half of my stay in Costa Rica, but it went in a different direction. The pictures can tell the story—they will for me. In any case, it was just more riding and sun and enjoying Tico culture, in small and subtle ways, and now I'm sitting in frigid Lubbock looking forward to the next adventure.

Here's to a better 2021, but if it doesn't do what we are all hoping it will, don't be afraid to take over the reins. I'll keep steering my chariot, no matter what.

Jürgen