The Two Cyclists in Me
On why it doesn’t have to be either-or
I can’t quite decide whether I love cycling for the fun and freedom of it, whether I don’t care about the watts, the speed, the distances, or the numbers.
Or if I’m someone who really loves seeing improvement - the kind of person who can willingly spend three hours on an indoor trainer, stuck in a tiny Calgary condo den, not going anywhere but still tracking every watt, just to know I’m getting better.
Maybe I’m both. And maybe that’s what actually makes cycling sustainable for me. It lets me have fun and feel free, but it also gives me structure and a way to measure progress. Not that I’m competitive with other people - just quietly, consistently, with myself.
I guess it doesn’t have to be either/or. It’s fine to be both. Or one. Or neither. And maybe the idea of spending any time on a tiny saddle, pushing down on a 19th-century invention just to deal with your 21st-century mental clutter doesn’t work for you. That’s fine too. Cycling hits different for everyone.
But for me, the last couple of weeks have been kind of perfect for both sides of who I am as a cyclist.
Indoors First
Calgary had a brutal allergy stretch recently - I sneezed something like 300 times (give or take) after one long outdoor ride. So I stayed inside that week. No open roads, no scenery, just me and the Wahoo Kickr Core, doing interval sessions in a small room that heats up faster than you'd think.
And honestly? It was kind of great. I did only structured workouts. Focused on power zones, heart rate, breathing - the technical stuff. I tried to trust that hard intervals are always followed by rest, and then repeat, because that’s how natural terrain works too.
Quiet, repetitive, and kind of meditative.
Then Vancouver
A week later, I drove to Vancouver for the long weekend and Canada Day. Vancouver still feels like home (in Canada, at least). It’s where I got back into cycling as an adult. Where I did my first 55km Fondo. Where I learned to clip in and tipped over, like everyone does at first lol.
I didn’t care about watts or speed - I rode through the Seawall, by the ocean, through parks that somehow still feel far from the city even though they’re right there. It was for joy, not training.
And yet - somehow, without trying, I hit speeds and watts that were well above what I used to do. I know I’m still slow by cycling-world standards. But for me, those gains felt real. And the fact that they showed up on a no-pressure ride? That was kind of the best part.
Also: Teaching?
One of the coolest things on that ride was that I wasn’t solo - I was riding with a buddy who’s just getting into cycling. He’s where I was not too long ago: learning to shift, watching GCN, asking about clipless pedals, and wondering whether lycra is actually necessary.
And somehow I found myself being the one who knew things. Pointing out road hazards. Talking through hand positions during climbs. I even introduced him to Spanish Banks - basically a roadie rite of passage in Vancouver, and home to one of the few globally verified Strava segments. Not that I’m trying to podium there (lol), but it’s still cool to ride it.
I’m still learning - always will be - but it felt good to share what I’ve picked up. That’s how community grows: not necessarily through mastery, but through sharing the ride.
Looking Ahead
I’ve got nine weeks until the RBC Whistler Gran Fondo. I’m excited. A little nervous, sure - but mostly excited.
So I’ll keep learning where I need to, and mentoring where I can. I’ll stay consistent. I’ll keep having fun. I’ll remember that progress doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it just shows up on a casual ride through a familiar city.
This is a sport I’m learning to love more every week. A community I’m grateful to be part of. And something tells me the best is still to come.