MOVE | FORWARD | GO

In August 2022, I was fortunate to live out the dream of attempting the Colorado Trail Race, a 530-mile mountain bike traverse of the Colorado high country. It was my first ultra-endurance race, and it happened in the midst of an active monsoon season.

“Move. Forward. Go.” was my internal mantra for all six-and-a-half terrifyingly exhilarating days of that journey. The speed didn’t matter, nor did the mode. Riding, walking, eating, sleeping, and pausing to breathe were all “go” gears out there on the wild, pointy end of life. Each played a role in confronting the many dangers, doubts, and decisions that come with traversing the Colorado Trail’s high places in potentially deadly weather.

It was a life-changing experience. One that cracked me open, letting in new light and laying bare my shadow. In my post-processing of that journey, I had my first glimpses of the insecurities feeding my lifelong battle with anxiety and depression. Those things were hard to see. I’d spent 48 years habitually ignoring my own needs and fooling myself into believing that was what strong men do. That lie was eating me alive. And I could no longer ignore my truth.

A great violence lives within me. I rage against Father Time and grapple with Mother Nature. I play in ice and fire, laugh with the lightning, and dance through the darkness. I long for those battles. They fill my soul. I wear their scars with pride. Truth be told, I’d much rather Mother Nature rearrange my molecules than continue facing the mass malevolence of this manipulative human existence. More than once, she has offered me that gift. And more than once, I have considered accepting it.

Ultimately, I chose to LIVE… to FIGHT for my life, and for my children. That fight came as change, or rather, a massive soul-shattering transformation.

I shook my tree and the shit fell out - my own shit and other people’s shit projected onto me. Seeing that tangled mess at my feet with all of its hooks still dangling from my psyche made me furious, mostly at myself for self-abandoning in service of so many manipulative masters, but also at the people pulling the strings. For the next year of my life, I went to war against everyone those hooks led back to - consciously driving loved ones away while unconsciously allowing parasitic people in - opportunists whose malignant sense of self stirred chaos and feasted on my pain.

By the time I began to understand that, I’d long since burned my old life to the ground.

It was ugly and chaotic. And my choices and actions were far from perfect. I hurt myself. And I hurt other people. A few arguably “deserved” it. Most did not. I’ve moved through enormous amounts of anger, shame, guilt, and regret related to every person I’ve hurt, regardless of what we’ve done to each other. It took all of that for me to begin rebuilding a life around my own truth rather than meeting other people’s expectations.

I’m doing that now… learning to love and forgive myself. Healing. Rebuilding. Addressing unhealthy behaviors and relationships with the support of truly caring people, and becoming a better man, partner, and father in the process.

“Move. Forward. Go.”

Those words from the trail have continued to motivate me out of many unhelpful thoughts and unsustainable places in this ongoing journey. Even so, I still occasionally get stuck and need help getting back to my feet. I’ve learned who to sit with when I am on fire. And I’ve said goodbye to those who fan the flames. Such life lessons are costly and painful, but with beautiful and rewarding outcomes.

These essays are personal reflections from that journey - my story. I hope my readers may glean something applicable to their own internal dialogue. And since nobody’s rosed-over lies of omission ever helped anyone out of a hole, I promise to share my good with my bad and my ugly, with the belief that it is only through sharing our full truths that we may inspire others to get in touch with their own.

I dream of convening a community of folks who support each other in this endeavor.

Thank you for reading.

I invite you to stay and share.

- Matt Annabel