Life After being a ‘Real’ Cyclist
I always wondered when the inevitable would happen and how it would feel when cycling would stop being a major influence in my life. That time has arrived, and it is happening to me. It was not by choice, nor was it sudden, like if there was an accident with irreparable injuries. It is more a process which takes some time to develop, to understand, and to accept.
This article describes what happened to me when circumstances changed, when a medical condition forced a re-evaluation of priorities, and when age started making its presence felt. Let’s start with my identity. Did cycling define who I was? No. Did cycling dominate my life? Maybe, maybe not, depending on who you ask, but it has played a role since I was four years old, and a major role for the last 35 years, during which time I have ridden beyond the moon, more than ten times around the Earth.
In my defence, I always had a significant life outside of cycling. Nevertheless, cycling was a big part of my life. My cycling routine enforced a clean and disciplined lifestyle which has stood me in good stead, and prevented wayward behaviours which could so easily have crept in. I can no longer call myself a cyclist according to my own definition because I can no longer keep up with a bunch, and my life revolves less around cycling. I still ride regularly, three or four times a week, but I can no longer call myself a cyclist. If I were to ride 100 kilometres right now, it would be very slow.
It seems like just the other day I could ride in any bunch, stay in front for hours, and enjoy every minute. That was when I was a ‘real’ cyclist. I had been at the same high level for so many years, riding effortlessly for hour after hour despite the years rolling by. Gradually, even though it seemed sudden to me, the decline in performance became noticeable. At first it caught me by surprise. “I am just having a bad day” I said to myself. After a few weeks the refrain became “I am just having a bad season”. So, I made more effort on club rides. I rode until I thought the end of the ride would never come. I would start out feeling great, but the feeling of exhaustion started coming earlier. And the climbs became harder, longer and longer, until suddenly I could no longer keep up in the bunch. What on earth was going on? I was trashed at the end of every club ride, and I limped around the house for the rest of the day; something I had vowed never to allow. “Am I having a bad season or is something else the matter?” It seemed to me that the decline was faster than the normal ageing process.
I had already made a near-miraculous recovery from stage four cancer ten years ago and had been riding reasonably well. Admittedly, the radiation and chemo treatments had been brutal, and it had taken a couple of years to recover to a good level. Also, one is never exactly like before after the body undergoes so much trauma. But here I was. “Was this a result of the treatment, all these years later?” I asked myself. I changed the club ride to a slower group and that was OK for some time, and then this too became too hard. I changed down again and diminished the distance. Once again it was OK for a time. Then I found myself taking short cuts to get back at the same time as the others. Then I started losing speed inside the first hour. Something was up.
My family and friends blamed my age; told me I was living in denial. “How can you expect to be cycling with people so much younger than you?” they asked. “Well, I expect that of myself. I don’t expect my performance to decline so quickly because of age.”
My wife Inge, a specialist anaesthetist, eventually convinced me to investigate a possible medical reason. After a series of tests and scans from radiology to vascular surgeon, and finally to a cardiologist, we had a result…
I have a developing ‘condition’ (a disease in plain language), over and above the one called age. There are occlusions in my arteries. There is a build-up of plaque which is restricting blood-flow. It is a genetic disease, kindly passed down by my dad, who also suffered from it. This has caught me by surprise as I have pumped massive volumes of blood through my veins and arteries during the years of sporting activity, and I was sure I would never have vascular disease. This diagnosis of atherosclerosis has at least explained the poor performance and the effort required.
I was expecting this sort of decline after the age of 80, at which age I would permit myself to use my advancing years as an excuse. But sacrebleu, it has happened ten years too early. I feel too young, too energetic, too active, too healthy, and too future-looking, to call myself an ex-cyclist. Physiologically, my numbers have diminished. Power ratings are down and my PLE (Perceived Level of Exertion) is high. What was once a comfortable heart rate has become a threshold, and the recovery rate is slow. All of this is forcing a new perspective, and I am trying to find a new routine which balances time, priorities, motivation, and the need to be out there.
And so, to the present. Although I still love riding my bike, it has become harder because of the level of effort required from every ride. I have to measure the effort almost from the first pedal stroke out of the driveway. As I say to myself and to Inge: “If I don’t ride, then what?” I don’t want to abandon a routine which has served me so well over a lifetime. I am fortunate to live on the outskirts of town, with dirt roads and little traffic, so I don’t have to beat the urban traffic by riding through the suburbs at 5AM. For the moment, I have maintained time slots in my diary, mostly for afternoon rides, except for Saturday mornings, which are reserved for a long (and painful) ride.
Being a cyclist has been a long season, and I have great memories. But my world has changed and is evolving. I have realised that I can no longer add value in the cycling environment because no cyclist wants to listen to or take advice from an old man who can’t keep up with any bunch. It is a reality. I am grateful to every cyclist with whom I have ridden, and who has accompanied me on this enjoyable, extraordinary and rewarding journey.
As one season finishes another begins. I have a new career which focuses on adding value to people in their leadership and life journeys. This is enabling me to make full use of the time I have left in this life before meeting my Maker. My career as a cyclist is behind me, but the future remains full of promise to be more impactful and significant because of the urgency of the time-horizon created by the advancing years. As for life expectancy…I’ll just concentrate on having a great quality of life to the end, whenever that is. It’s not my call.
My narrow, binary, elitist definition of a cyclist.
Please see the funny side, especially if you are a mountain biker…
Riding a bike does not qualify you to call yourself a cyclist.
A real cyclist is someone who rides a racing bike on the road, with skinny tyres and drop handlebars, who rides at least five times a week, who adjusts his or her lifestyle, eating and sleeping patterns to accommodate cycling activity, who does not consider any holiday which does not include a bicycle, and who is always thinking about or planning the next ride. He/she is accustomed to sacrificing leisure time so that he/she can have a good ride in the morning. Cyclists spend their lives thinking of ways to reduce the pain, and how to feel stronger on the bike. Real cyclists are always ready and fit enough to ride 100kms in a decent time.
For more clarity and rules of the road, find the tab for ‘Velo Rules’ in the Vélogique website.
Those who also do not qualify to call themselves cyclists are:
- Weekend warriors
- Anyone who rides ‘occasionally’
- Anyone who rides mountain bikes only
- Anyone who cannot ride in a bunch
- Anyone who does not know bunch riding etiquette
- Anyone who rides in baggy clothing
- Anyone who rides with a hydration backpack
- Anyone who rides with a helmet peak
- E-Bikers. What’s that?
PS The lessons learned are:
- We cannot ignore the passage of time or the ageing process that goes with it.
- It is important to recognise the changing of seasons and the change in priorities.
- This is nature’s way of messaging us that it is time for new challenges.
- Gratitude that I have a new role to play in the world.
I am considering having T-shirts printed with ‘I once was a cyclist’ and a cool graphic.
My son suggested a tattoo. I smile. Maybe.
All is as it should be. I have peace.
Please visit www.acceleratedgrowth.co.za for other interesting but more serious topics, and do not hesitate to reach out to me.
