The Empty Chair at Thanksgiving: A Surprising Source of Strength and Inspiration

I recently shared a post about the empty seat at our Thanksgiving table, but little did I know that an empty chair could hold so much more than just a memory. On Thanksgiving morning, I found myself facing a challenge I wasn't sure I could conquer, but a glance at an empty bike seat at my local CycleBar studio changed everything.

I had signed up for the Thanksgiving 75-minute Ride, a tough endeavor by any measure. To add to the challenge, I was asked to trade my comfortable back-row bike for the infamous "front side bike" to help out a fellow cyclist. Last year, I had tackled this very ride from the same side bike, but I was in a different place mentally and physically. My emotional and mental health had taken a hit, just like my overall muscle strength when I was intensely training for competition last year. I contemplated canceling, especially since there was a long waitlist. However, a few words of encouragement from the CycleStar instructor spurred me to take on the challenge.

As I pedaled, wanting to throw in the (sweaty) towel, I happened to look to the far corner of the room. There it was—an empty seat, an empty bike seat. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the person who couldn't make it that day. I unexpectedly found myself filled with hope and even shed a tear. That empty seat, the one I would have never noticed had I not taken the front seat, became a source of inspiration.

In that moment, I envisioned the immense energy of my Dad riding that very bike. That empty seat didn't bring me pain; it brought me peace at a time when I was tempted to give up. Just when I needed it most, the CycleStars came in, offering more water, more towels, and treats to help us push through the final leg of the class. It was as if my Dad's spirit had joined forces with the legendary Tina Turner, as the superstar instructor's favorite song, "You're Simply the Best," rocked us to the end.

As we approach the holiday season and the new year, many of us will miss someone at the family table. If you find yourself in a new situation, facing a fresh beginning, and grappling with feelings of loneliness or despair, remember the power of the empty chair. It can bring anxiety and sorrow, but perhaps, just perhaps, it can also bring peace, encouragement, and the motivation you need to keep going.

So, to my Dad, I want to say thank you. I saw you in that empty seat, and the sticker I earned for completing the 75-minute Thanksgiving ride will proudly go in your Visit Box. The question now is, where will you visit next?