The Unseen Hills

My Dearest Zwift Family,

It's been a while since my last ride with you, since our wheels hummed in unison on the virtual roads where we shared laughter, encouragement, and the sweet taste of digital victory. You might have noticed my absence, the space where Queen Caution once rode valiantly among you. Today, I'm peeling back the curtain to share the unspoken journey that took me off the map, away from the Zwift universe that I adore. I hope it's ok that I'm going to be pretty real and honest with you, as I am struggling.

The end of May, brought a storm that no weather forecast could predict. The winds of change blew fiercely as my family found ourselves in the eye of a tempest. My husband faced the unsettling quiet after a layoff in the tech industry. The beacon we thought we saw in the distance dimmed and vanished when a promising job offer evaporated before our eyes, leaving us in a sudden freeze of uncertainty.

Our lives, much like a challenging Zwift course, became a series of unexpected inclines. The continued financial strain meant that luxuries like my beloved Zwift subscription had to be parked at the wayside. I found myself pedaling into new territories, not of scenic virtual landscapes, but of necessity and survival. My time, once joyously spent on cycling escapades, now turned to carving out a lifeline for us.

In the quiet corners of the night, I immersed myself in the glow of my computer screen, not to chase the neon Zwift dream or the thrill of the Tron Bike, but to forge a new path. I ventured into the realms of website creation, art designs, and the enigmatic world of AI. I discovered the world of prompt engineering, as well as crafting custom personas for chatbots, a skill as rare and valuable as a perfect power-up on a steep climb.

Opportunity knocked softly amidst the chaos, and I answered. An author and publisher sought my artwork, a commission that was both a lifeline and a reminder of the beauty that can emerge in the midst of trials. Every stroke of my digital pen, every design, was a step towards hope, a small victory in a much larger battle.

My husband, once a navigator of digital landscapes, traded his keyboard for tools, his office for construction sites far from home. His absence left a silence in our home that I filled with the sounds of solo parenting, managing the fort while battling my own inner turmoil.

The guilt of self-care weighed heavily on me, a burden that made my cycling shoes feel like lead. How could I justify the time spent on myself when every moment, every resource, had to be accounted for? The joy of riding became a distant memory, replaced by the pressing needs of the present.

It's been six months—a half-year cycle of seasons since the stability of our life was shaken. I'm attempting to grind through each day, focusing on the essentials: keeping a roof over our heads, food on the table, and a semblance of normalcy for our children. The path has been rough, the inclines steep, and the descents terrifying. And if I'm honest, it's an incredible struggle even today, and even more so being so vulnerable about it. I've never been the one that asks for help or likes to show weakness. I have always been extremely independent and one that can push past the hardest challenges life has ever thrown at me; but this season...sigh...this season has knocked me on my ass and I'm struggling to find a lifeline.

I share this not for sympathy, but for understanding. To let you know that while I may not be visible as the QOM, I'm still here, still desperately wanting to be part of this community, still Queen Caution at heart. My youngest, my littlest co-rider, demands much of me, and I give it willingly, though it leaves me absolutely drained at the end of each day.

I fell off the face of the planet, not out of choice, but necessity. And in being real with you, my Zwift family, I hope to find a small measure of solace. I miss the camaraderie, the shared goals, the collective push to the summit. But for now, my energies are directed to the very real challenges of my family's journey.

I hope to return, to once again feel the rush of the virtual wind, the camaraderie of our peloton, the shared joy of a sprint well done. Until then, know that I carry the spirit of our rides in my heart, in the quiet moments when I close my eyes and remember the freedom of the ride.

I miss you all so soooo much!

With Love,

♥️
QC