Day 9 – Half Way There

I try not to focus too much on the daily distance or the miles I’ve yet to ride because that can set me up for a negative mindset—thinking of how far I still have to go. And each day is a milestone for me, not how many miles but that I attempted to do it.  But today, as I’ve reached the halfway point to Key West, I’m pausing to reflect. Not just on how far I’ve come on this journey, but on why I’m doing this and what I’ve learned so far. This is a great moment to take stock and share with others who might be starting their own journey.
The main reason I’m doing this is to raise awareness about brain injuries. I want to reach as many people as I can and give hope to survivors of traumatic brain injuries. I want them to know that life does go on after an injury. Each person’s experience is unique, and their journey will look different from mine, but I want to say this: don’t give up hope. There is life beyond your injury. It may not be what you planned, but there is still a path forward, and it can lead to incredible places.
For me, the physical starting point was Fort Clinch, but in truth, this journey began long before that. It started when the doctors told me what had happened and gave me options for moving forward. It began with my support team—my God, my doctors, my wife, my family, and the people in the support groups I’ve been a part of since my injury.  I have gained so much motivation from others watching them go through much more than me and still move forward with their life. It started with small steps: learning memory strategies, building strength, and overcoming daily frustrations. Was it hard and frustrating? Absolutely. But one step at a time, I moved forward.
Even if I had stopped at Fort Clinch, I would still have called this a victory. Why? Because that first step is the hardest. It may seem small, but it’s everything. If you had asked me after my last stroke or open-heart surgery if I would ever be doing something like this, I would have said ‘no way.’ It’s taken a lot of work to get here, and it didn’t happen overnight. When you face a setback—a traumatic brain injury or any debilitating illness—recovery can feel like an uphill battle. It can be exhausting, frustrating, and overwhelming, but let me tell you, it is worth it. Every step, no matter how small, is a step forward.
Another thing I’ve learned on this journey is that you can’t control other people. Have I encountered reckless drivers? Absolutely. But I can’t control them; I can only control how I respond. When a driver does something reckless, I make sure to pedal defensively, but I don’t let it ruin my day emotionally, or else I’ll become unraveled. It’s the same with recovery after a brain injury. A doctor might say something discouraging, or someone may laugh at your struggles, but don’t let that define your day. You can’t control the naysayers, but you can control your own mindset. That’s something I’ve reflected on—both in this physical journey and in my journey after the brain injury.
Now, some learnings from the road for anyone thinking about setting out on their own adventure. I won’t go into the nitty-gritty of every day, but here are a few highlights that might save you some headaches (and backaches):
First, if you’re planning your first adventure, try to go with someone who knows what they’re doing. Trust me, there’s nothing like a seasoned traveler to save you from mistakes like going off course and have to backtrack a mile to get back on course. They’ve been there, done that—and hopefully have the sense to not let you do the same.
Second, pack smart. Do you really need that many shirts? That third pair of pants? Let me save you some trouble: the answer is no. You probably don’t need eight days of food either. Unless you’re planning to open a backwoods grocery store, pack half of what you think you need—and then take out another 10%. You’ll thank me when you’re not carrying the kitchen sink on your back.

For my fellow trikesters out there: tadpole trikes can tip over, so keep that in mind!