Finding the Spark Again
Words by: Kelsey Timpany
When the Pivot team and I mapped out this year’s blog topics,
“Finding the Spark Again” stood out as something I could speak to deeply and honestly. Yet, ironically, it’s the piece I’ve resisted the most, drafting, deleting, and circling back. The truth? I’m still in the thick of it, and that’s okay. But I’m also finding small ways back, and I want to share what’s helping me reignite that spark, both on and off the bike.
When Life Sneaks Up
Someone once told me I was like a thousand candles with how I lived my life. It was a compliment that I played down and brushed off, but truth be told I stashed it away in my heart as something to live by.
Years later after some serious slog, change and life, I started to realise that these candles were quietly being blown out, without even realising it.
It didn’t happen with one big event. It was slow. A career pivot here, a move there, love found then lost then found again. Friends scattering across the map. Who and how I identified as an athlete. Freelancing pressure. Trying to create work you’re proud of only to watch it tank online. Life kept rolling and I just kept pedalling because that’s what you do, until one day I wasn’t.
The Drift
Burnout taught me what running on empty feels like.
But this was different: less fire, more fog. Yes I was riding my bike, attending races, showing face at events – but I was going through the motions. Something just always felt off.
I battled with procrastination like you wouldn’t believe. Simple tasks such as posting on social media became a mental battle, going for rides and training became a drag. Days where I had all the time in the world to hit tasks, I was doing bare minimum.
Opportunities started to come and go. I scrolled instead of planned. I would “go with the flow” for events, even when it was something I was not interested in and my gut would be screaming – “Kels, this just isn’t you”.
The Gut Check
The turning point came when,
for the second year in a row, I couldn’t get a big bike packing trip off the ground in Alaska, a huge personal and professional goal. The “old me” would have forced it into existence, no matter the sponsorship pull-outs, injuries, or logistical nightmares.
So what was stopping me now? Life’s curveballs? Turning my passion into a job?
Or had I simply lost my spark?
That thought scared the crap out of me. I’d forgotten who I was and my WHY: the person who plans wild, ambitious trips because she loves them. The girl who rides her bike purely for the love of it. When did it start to feel like a chore instead of a dream?
Honest conversations with the people who know me best stung a little, but they cracked something open and forced me to sit down with myself and do a life audit.
The Anchor: My Bike
When everything else felt unstable and slightly dull, my bike stayed constant. Solo rides became my haven, quiet climbs, breath syncing with pedal strokes, fresh air clearing brain fog. I revisited old trails that took me back to why I love riding – purely for the fun of it, no Strava or pressure to take iPhone clips.
Then I found my way back to group rides. Laughing, jokes, banter and good old competitiveness. Followed by post ride socials, hugs and check ins. Instant mood lifter.
A step back into the mountain bike community, who inspire, challenge, laugh and hold me accountable was one of the best moves to reignite that flame. They helped me reconnect with my why and who I am underneath the life that ran away. It almost felt like a full circle moment where I couldn’t wait to explore other corners of the globe, meet new people, but really it’s the roots that bought it all back.
Things I Reached For (Not Advice. Just Real.)
- Pedaled alone until my head went quiet and I could start thinking clearly
- Texted a buddy “ride?” even when I didn’t feel like it
- Turned off Instagram for a bit (didn’t fix everything but helped)
- Rode trails I know and love, zero proving anything just FUN
- Let small wins count (sent one email, cooked a meal, paid a bill)
If You’re In the Fog
I see you.
If you’ve lost your spark, know this, it’s not gone, just buried. Life blows candles out; we can relight them, slowly and awkwardly if we have to. One ride, one breath, one brave conversation at a time. For me, the bike is still where I remember who I am every climb whispering you’re stronger than you think, every laugh with mates reminding me you’re still here.
If you’re reading this mid-fog, start small. Ride. Reach out. Protect what’s left of your flame until it grows again. Light one candle today and as always, do it for the love of it!
