Trying to avoid being me
I’m not entirely sure where to start with this.
2025 felt transformative, remember The Rebrand. A new version of me finally starting to take shape. There was a calmness I hadn’t felt in a long time, something steady, something grounded. Stability had crept back in. From the outside, it probably looked like things were falling into place.
Behind the scenes though, it wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows (Jim Clarkson™️). But I was coping. And for me, that counted as progress.
Then we got the news that my youngest, my mini me had Osteosarcoma. I can’t even begin to explain how proud of her I am. The way she’s handled everything has been nothing short of inspirational. Months of hospital visits, treatments, uncertainty… then the operation to remove the cancerous tissue. And just before Christmas, the news we’d been holding out for: she was all clear. The relief was unreal.
I’d always worried she might inherit too many of my traits, but she’s shown a strength of character and resilience I’ve never had. A way of dealing with things I honestly don’t think I could replicate.
A few months passed. Winter settled in and, if I’m honest, I struggled. Motivation dipped. Riding took a back seat. Everything just felt a bit… mleh. Normally I’m pretty good in winter, Zwift sessions, longer rides through November and December but I just couldn’t be arsed. And forcing it never works. Maybe I’m just getting older. I don’t really suffer from FOMO anymore, and the only comparison that frustrates me is the rider I used to be. Realistically, I’ll never get that back and I shouldn’t care, but I kinda do. Anyway, spring was coming. And with it, a bit of hope.
Then mid-February hit.
A routine hospital check-up for mini me, except it wasn’t routine. She’d been in constant pain. The specialist reviewed the scans and decided the bone needed to come out completely and be replaced. Cancerous cells had been found again. Another operation. Another round. FFS. I genuinely thought we were through it. And yet again, she’s dealing with it in a way I can only admire from the sidelines.
Around the same time, I was doing my usual visits, cycling over to see my parents, spending time with the girls and the dogs. Normal weekends. Lunch. Trying (and failing) to get everyone off their phones, even though I’m no better myself, to be fair. My stepdad had a number of illnesses, but he seemed like himself. Maybe a bit frailer, but still him. He even went out walking Dexter, the German Shepherd with an ASBO for being aggressive to other dogs (fucking legend). Everything felt normal.
Then a couple of days later, my mum called. He’d passed away.
It hit everyone hard. He was one of the kindest, most generous, loving people you could ever hope to grow up with. Just like that, gone. At that point, the year was already starting to feel like a complete clusterfuck. It knocked me for six. That, on top of everything with mini me, plus feeling completely lost at work with no clear direction… old habits and old feelings started creeping back in. Anger. A fuse that was basically non-existent.
I struggled at home. I really tried to hold things in and keep it together, but I had moments of just being a c#*t. I took frustrations out on Oriana. At work, I just wanted to disappear. My way of trying to protect the people I love from me is to isolate. Bottle things up. So that’s what I did. Pulled back. Avoided people wherever I could.
All the while, Oriana was dealing with her own situation, flying back and forth to Milan almost weekly to look after her mum, who was unwell. And despite everything, she’s been incredibly supportive. She’s really tried with me, even when I’ve made it difficult. I know she’s the one, because even at my worst, I try not to take it out on her.
Then Karen and Spencer reached out. They said if I needed a break, I could head down to theirs in Provence. Not the first time they’ve thrown me a lifeline like that. My manager signed me off work, I added a few days of holiday, and decided to take it.
Time to step away. Reset. Get myself back on track.
I borrowed a friend’s van, loaded up the bikes, and hit the road. #vanlife I had a break from the podcast. I just wasn’t in the right headspace to host or be positive about much. It felt like the right call, even though it was frustrating, because I’d been on a roll and genuinely enjoying it with some great guests lined up.
A few days on the bike. Sunshine. A place that always seems to straighten me out a bit. Winter hadn’t been kind… or maybe more accurately, I hadn’t been kind to myself. Drinking too much. Diet gone to shit. A few extra kilos. Barely riding. Here we go again, I didn’t like myself very much. But after a couple of days riding, something started to shift. The beginning of a comeback, maybe. My head felt lighter. Not fixed. Not suddenly perfect. But better. Like I was at least moving in the right direction again.
Then 2026 decided it wasn’t done yet.
A call from Oriana. Her mum had passed away. She flew back to Milan, and I made plans to drive over—to be with her, to support her. We’re both in our 50s now, and I guess this is part of it. Losing people. Dealing with things you can’t control. The last few days have helped, though. Now it’s my turn to be there for her.It’s not even April. And if I’m being honest, there have been moments where I’ve felt dangerously close to how I did at my worst. The difference now is that I’m more aware. I talk. I let people know. I know what I should be doing.
But even with that… sometimes it’s just fucking hard. Sometimes I just want to explode. Or run away. The old version of me would’ve vented, thrown a few grenades, tested people’s limits and spiralled. Probably made things worse. That hasn’t happened. Not yet. And hopefully not at all. Right now, my focus has to be the people around me, Oriana, my mum, and my kids.
This could easily have been a very different kind of journal entry. Vintage Nick. Classic ASCND. But maybe I have changed. Maybe there has been progress even with everything the last few months have thrown at me, at us.
Respair is about the return of hope. I can’t say I’m really feeling that right now.
But let’s see what the next few weeks bring.
Fuck this year.