In losing Doug, I lost a piece of me. I lost someone I deeply loved. I lost my first love. They say that time heals. I say that time helps, but healing is more than watching the clock tick along. Healing is living with intention. Healing is daily recognition and acknowledgement of how lucky I was to have an older brother like Doug. Healing is daily reminders of the pride and joy I was able to experience watching a rambunctious, adventure-seeking kid grow into one of the kindest, caring human beings to ever grace this earth. Healing is knowing that in the moment, the most important thing you can do is stop, look around, listen and embrace the beauty of what’s around you in life.
Being injured for a prolonged period is tough. Energy levels drop, and my appetite has dropped to the minimum required to function. Those quads I’d lovingly built up, look like a half burst balloon. Fitness has no loyalty. Not being able to really exert yourself physically takes a toll mentally as well. Exercises can still be hard to do — it took over ten weeks of work to be able to fully bend and straighten my knee. But you can’t enjoy the freedom of a long run, or experience that blissful, total exhaustion after a hard bike. There are no highs or lows, you just do the work.