How cycling changed my life

It all started three years ago. I had always been into exercise – predominately going to the gym two to three times a week. During a tough time personally I decided I needed something different, something to upset the monotony of riding an exercise bike three days a week.


I decided to get an (actual) bike. I never thought it would have the effect it has on me. I started off with a (relatively) cheap mountain bike. My first ride on it – probably the first time I had ridden a bike for 10 years – was exhilarating.


I felt a burst of excitement I hadn’t felt since riding across the grass of my local park aged six, my Nan in pursuit as I pedalled harder, always on the edge of losing control and falling off; it was the first time I had taken the stabilizers off. I still cherish (and long for) the rush of excitement I had that day. My new mountain bike had offered a tantalising glimpse.


Years later, mountain bike in tow, first childish ride out of the way, I threw myself into my new hobby doing early morning rides at weekends. I went out in all conditions – rain, frost, sun. I loved it.


My passion grew – and with it my ability to spend money on kit. From starting out riding around in a fleece from Primark (true) I was now buying superlight cycling clothing and not balking at the pricetag. I was hooked.


Thanks largely to a generous cycle scheme at work I bought a road bike last year. The transition from Primark-wearing, mountain bike rider was complete.


I even rode my first sportive late last year – 100 miles around the same Surrey hills that the professionals will tackle this year at the Olympic road race. It was tough – I am not your typical cyclist at 6’ 5” – but I got there. As one rider with a bovine physique not dissimilar to mine commented on the closing stretch: ‘thank fuck that’s over’. Quite.


But I still love cycling. At a time when I felt a mess, it offered me the opportunity to clear my head and focus on something new. I enjoy the solitude and independence of it. It gives me clarity. Indeed, it is rare that I get back from a ride and don’t feel better for it; even if it is wet, windy or cold – or, indeed, all three at the same time.


It has changed my life. I ran the London Marathon in April this year and I honestly think I would never have done that without taking up cycling three years ago. Instead of music magazines I now read about running, cycling or endurance sport; the science of it is fascinating. I’m even known to buy that bastion of male narcissism, Men’s Health, on occasion.


A psychologist would probably argue that buying that mountain bike was a way of turning my back; the embodiment of running (or cycling) away from my problems. They would probably be right, but I don’t care. Re-discovering cycling took me back to that sun-kissed day in the park with my Nan.


And for that alone, it’s the best purchase I’ve ever made.