Cycling sucks. Well it used to for me – it was a self-destructive obsession.
I started cycling during a low point in my mental and physical health. I was underweight and had a hip stress fracture due to obsessive over training for an ultra-marathon. I couldn’t run, so I started cycling as an alternative way to beast myself to work off that imaginary fat that was piling on after every small meal – and to temporarily quieten the self-hatred dialogue that continuously looped in my brain. I didn’t enjoy cycling – it wasn’t for pleasure it was purely used as a tool.
I ended up racing in multi-sport events. Gradually my body got weaker and more injured as I tried harder and harder to push it as far as I could. I could feel myself heading for burnout but was too scared to stop the activity that I can come to rely on. I hated it and needed it in equal amounts.
Eventually it came to a head.
Racing across Scotland in sub-11 hours I was the 4th fastest woman, but something happened along the way… I stopped for a moment and looked up.
I saw the most amazing views and something clicked. I literally crossed the finish line and told my husband that I was hanging up my racing shoes for good. I wanted to be out there but be still and truly see the…
