On Friday mornings, I am a literacy volunteer tutor. I spend two hours with my student, Mohamed, a refugee from Eritrea who has been in the United States for five years and has his green card. He was able to bring his wife and daughter over a few years ago and his wife gave birth to their second child just weeks after we started working together.

He wants to learn English to get a better job and to pass his U.S. citizenship test. He works two jobs right now, six days a week, with no time off and no health care. He works hard, loves his family, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to start over from scratch in a country where you not only have to learn a new language but a new alphabet.

This is where I feel Mohamed is helping me more than I am helping him. Because in the three months we have been working together, he has taught me so many things. I’ve learned about his culture and religion. As a tutor, I’ve had to learn ways to explain English words and understand my native tongue better so that I can simplify it for him. But most importantly I’ve learned a lesson in perspective.

Which is what leads me to Saturday’s cycling adventure with Scott along the Canadian side of the Niagara River.

See, as with most people on the planet, there’s a lot going on in my own personal universe, some of it which could best be described as “soul sucking.” My default position in these situations is to whine and wait.

This sucks! I mean this really sucks!  I can’t want for things to change. When (insert desired result here) happens THEN I will be able to be happy, free, live my best life.

Yeah, I’m here to tell you what already know — that’s a philosophy that is bound to give you the exact opposite. It’s a recipe for living small and missing everything that already is available. And there’s so much available, right in front of me, that I miss in a sea of first-world problem wallowing.

This is where working with Mohamed has been a lesson in perspective shifting for me. See, it’s not about ignoring the life situations which are slowly sucking the life out of me. Because even first-world problems are very real to the people experiencing them. Rather, it’s about choosing what I focus on. What can I do to change my situation? Let me focus on that. And whining, while briefly providing a release, is not a practical life plan.

So instead of whining, what if I took that energy and made the most of the free time and opportunities I do have?

Which brought me to the bike path at Ft. Erie on Saturday morning.

The original plan was to spend my day off with Scott hiking in Allegany State Park, but the weather forecast was looking dicey with thunderstorms. We shifted to bike riding in Canada, driving over the Peace Bridge and finding a parking spot in Ft. Erie right next to the Niagara River Recreation Trail. Scott was along the ride, literally and figuratively, letting me plan our adventure. Only I didn’t really have a plan. I figured we’d get on our bikes in Ft. Erie, ride until we got tired, turn around and return. There was no real destination in my mind. Only a journey. Heck I didn’t even plan lunch out. And for me not to map out food, well, this is new territory, indeed.

So we just went with the flow, riding along the Niagara River toward Niagara Falls. It took us a bit to realize that the bike path merged in and out with service roads on the left hand side, but soon enough we were out of traffic, peddling along easily and happily. The morning was beautiful and our scenery never got old between the spectacular views of the trees and the river on one side and the amazing homes on the other. (Some of which were ridiculous. Does the Queen summer here?)

Feeling good, we continued to Niagara Falls, hitting the Table Rock area just as the tourist buses were unloading. It was lunch time, and I convinced Scott to head to a sit-down restaurant so we could relax and eat something good to fuel us for the ride back. We started our return, which felt faster than the ride out.

We ended up biking nearly 40 miles at a very leisurely pace. It was lovely. I know that sounds antiquated or like an undersell, but truly, it was lovely. It felt as if we were on vacation, just us engaging with what the world put in front of us as we peddled along.

Both of us have recommitted to fitness routines over the past month for this very reason — to put ourselves in a position where we can do the things we enjoy. Racing plays a key role in my life, but over the last 10 years I’ve learned what really fuels me as an athlete are these adventures which have nothing to do with pace or medals or finish lines and everything to do with living to my fullest. See, being an athlete to me is about all kinds of moments — from pushing myself to see what I can do to enjoying a long outdoor adventure with people I love.

This is what I choose to put my focus on — the things I love with the people I love. How that plays out in my life, well, that’s more in my control than my whining self would lead me to believe.