In my living room, there’s a bicycle that hasn’t been used for quite some time, and every time I see it, it reminds me of a version of myself I’ve lost touch with—a version I deeply miss. Once upon a time, I was much more engaged with the outdoors than I am today. As a youngster, I was quite the athlete, even dreaming of becoming a professional soccer player. I played flag football as soon as I hit middle school, practiced karate during my elementary years, skateboarded in high school, and loved the exhilarating burn in my lungs after a vigorous run. Beyond sports, I felt like a more complete person with a real sense of community and a strong connection to nature before I became more introverted and wary of others. Consequently, I found comfort at home, either in bed or on the couch, indulging in another passion: video games.

I have no regrets about this. Games have allowed me to experience countless lives, saving mine over and over again. I’ve been legendary heroes, daring adventurers, god-defeating teens, and more. However, my dedication to gaming has always seemed to come at a cost—a sacrifice that wasn’t necessary and has distanced me from the vibrant world I once embraced. While I’m happy with who I’ve become, I can’t help but miss the person I was and the hobbies I used to make time for. Luckily, this year’s fantastic line-up of games has reignited my love for the outdoors, making me realize the importance of reconnecting with that part of my life.

Take Wheel World, for instance. This game, published by Annapurna, centers around biking across a picturesque island, using ramps, racing opponents, and customizing your bike. It feels like catching up with an old friend. The game’s relaxed, open-ended gameplay lets you explore freely, reminiscent of why I fell in love with cycling. As one character aptly says, “The point is the ride! You gotta make it last. Party pace.”

As a child, my bike was one of my most cherished possessions. I loved just riding around the block, and I recall being so smitten with a girl that I would cycle around our neighborhood just hoping to see her, much like chasing a rare shiny Pokemon. The sweat and exhaustion didn’t bother me; in fact, I think I enjoyed it, even if it was mostly futile. Eventually, I ventured further, secretly going beyond my parents’ approved boundaries, which felt like entering a new realm. Every fall, scrape, or tumble over the handlebars was worth the thrill of speeding down a hill and discovering new places.

Wheel World isn’t the only game that has stirred up my dormant outdoor desires. Mario Kart World has sparked an urge to just drive, recalling the intimate road trips I’ve taken. Each journey in the game’s expansive world reminds me of the vastness out there and how enriched I feel after exploring new places. Peak, meanwhile, reminds me of my hiking spirit, making me long for leisurely walks in national parks with my best friends, sharing laughs and enjoying nature’s bounty.

Another game, Despelote, isn’t exactly about playing soccer but about the love and community it fosters. It reminds me how sports first helped me break down my walls and find my initial social circles. On the flip side, Rematch, a highly competitive soccer game, rekindles the intense commitment and drive of my athletic days, pushing me in ways I’ve not felt in a long time.

Each of these games has nudged me to revisit the world that once inspired me. Wheel World especially makes me question why I ever stopped doing something that made me feel so alive. The romantic way the game depicts cycling through scenic landscapes and quaint towns pulls at my heartstrings. It reminds me of favorite scenes like Mae and Gregg cycling at sunset in Night in the Woods, or Connell and Marianne biking through the Italian countryside in Normal People. It’s a reminder of the peace amidst chaos and how I should romanticize my life more. Cycling brings thoughts of the unexplored world, breathtaking landscapes, new people, and undiscovered paths.

Video games have been a refuge from a world that often seems harsh and unfair, but I’ve realized that I may have been hiding from reality for too long, losing sight of my place in it. While I’ve found community and belonging elsewhere, I know deep down that these virtual experiences, as wonderful as they are, cannot replace the real world. I yearn to be touched by the sun and to be worldly while I still have the chance. It seems the first step is to tune up that old bike in my living room, hop back on, and reconnect with the grass and paths I’ve missed. Maybe I’ll meet some of you out there.

Moises Taveras is a games journalist grappling with his career aspirations, currently dreaming of playing as the cow in Mario Kart World. Occasionally, you can catch him sharing his thoughts and humor on Bluesky.