How Riding a Bicycle Changed My Life
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I didn’t start riding a bicycle to reinvent myself. I started because it was simple, honest movement — and for a while, it was the only thing that made me feel like myself again.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that the bicycle wasn’t just giving me exercise. It was quietly giving me time.
The Warning I Didn’t Ignore
When I weighed 275 pounds, a doctor sat me down and told me something that stuck.
He said, plainly, that if I didn’t do something — anything — to become more active and lose weight, I likely wouldn’t make it to 40 years of age.
There was no drama in the delivery. No scare tactics. Just a statement of fact.
I didn’t run a marathon. I didn’t join a gym. I didn’t suddenly “get motivated.”
I got on a bicycle.
That 275 pounds is now a painful, distant memory — and one I will never experience again. I’m 70 years old, still riding real roads, and very much still here.
From the Couch to Real Roads
Back then, my days were mostly sedentary. Too much sitting. Too little movement. I wasn’t broken — but I was drifting in the wrong direction.
Cycling changed that without asking me to become someone else.
No mirrors. No numbers chasing me around. Just riding.
At first, it wasn’t impressive. Short rides. Slow rides. Rides where I wondered if this would actually matter.
It did.
Slowly, my body responded the way bodies are supposed to when you treat them with respect. I rode farther. I rode more often. The weight came off gradually — the right way. My legs strengthened. My energy stabilized. My confidence returned.
I stopped feeling fragile.
What the Bicycle Teaches You — If You Let It
Cycling is an honest teacher.
- There’s no shortcut up a hill.
- No arguing with headwinds.
- No pretending effort doesn’t matter.
Early on, I fought discomfort — burning legs, fatigue, the urge to turn back. Over time, I learned something more useful:
You don’t fight discomfort. You ride through it.
That lesson didn’t stay on the bike.
It followed me into the rest of my life. When something got difficult, I already knew the answer:
You’ve been uncomfortable before. You didn’t quit then.
That’s a powerful thing to carry — especially as you get older, when people quietly expect you to slow down, sit out, or “be careful.”
Riding Alone — Without Being Alone
Most of my miles have been solo miles.
And yet, cycling has connected me to more people than almost anything else I’ve done.
There’s a shared understanding among cyclists. A nod. A wave. A few words at a stop sign or gas station that turn into real conversations. Even riding alone, I’ve never felt isolated.
On a bike, I feel part of a larger group of people choosing movement over stagnation and effort over excuses.
What Cycling Gave Me That I Didn’t Expect
Cycling didn’t just make me fitter. It made me steadier.
- Steadier under stress.
- Steadier in discomfort.
- Steadier in my confidence that I can keep going.
At 70 years old, with over 155,000 miles on real roads, I don’t ride to prove anything. I ride because the bicycle keeps giving back — physically, mentally, emotionally.
It reminds me that consistency beats intensity, motion matters more than perfection, and small effort — repeated — changes everything.
If You’re Wondering Whether It’s “Too Late”
It isn’t.
You don’t need speed. You don’t need expensive gear. You don’t need to look like a cyclist.
You just need to ride — and keep riding.
The bicycle doesn’t care how old you are. It only responds to effort.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.
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