Deer In Headlines II

By Gery Deer

I took up long-distance tour cycling in 2017 to give some direction to my fitness routine. I am definitely no gym rat, but I needed to improve my health, and exercise for its own sake was, at least to me, mind-numbing. Preparing for long bicycle tours provided a tangible goal and kept me more engaged.

Growing up in the middle of nowhere, a bike was the only way I could get around, especially when the nearest neighbor kid was a couple of miles away. But this was a different challenge. With higher speeds, longer distances, and greater safety risks, I had a great deal to learn. 

I took the time to learn everything I could about endurance cycling, from choosing the right equipment to managing my food. The first year, I rode about 5 days a week, covering anywhere between six and 12 miles per day, while also maintaining my core and strength exercises.  

With practice, study, and the right workout regimen, my speed, distance, and endurance all improved. That first summer, I completed two, 100-mile, or “century,” rides. Since then, I’ve done six more, averaging two per year. 

I’d never been so driven to accomplish something that physical. I basically became an athlete, and that was never on my radar. Plus, it was as much mental as physical, maybe more. My friends and family probably thought I’d lost it. At 49 years old, I was in the best health of my life and broke physical barriers put in place from the day I was born. It required careful planning, long hours in the saddle, conditioning, and determination.

Any challenging goal always has prerequisites. Maybe you call them milestones or baby steps, whatever. The point is that these smaller goals help measure your progress and keep your eye on the prize. There are no “hacks” to anything worth doing and, if you find one, it’s probably going to rob you of valuable lessons and potentially derail the whole effort. 

The problem with most long-term goals is that people sometimes try to jump to the end, skipping vital steps. People who quit smoking cold turkey, for example, often fail because there are no step-downs to help eliminate, not just the addiction, but the habits that feed it. With cycling, you have to learn to ride 5 miles before you tackle 10, which leads to 20, and so on. More importantly, it might take time and practice to recognize each stage of achievement and what it means to your overall success.

For instance, my average training ride is around 20 miles, but even now, I struggle a bit in the first 6-8. I feel awkward, uncomfortable, and unfocused. It can be discouraging, sometimes even painful. But, as I push ahead, everything starts to smooth out around the 10-mile mark. My body settles into the bike, my cadence has a rhythm, my speed and efficiency improvements, and I become more mentally focused. 

My typical goal is generally far more than 10 miles, but I’ve learned to value that milestone because of its significance to my final goal. When you understand which smaller steps have the greatest impact on your final goal, each subsequent step becomes easier and more valuable. 

Recently I participated in the shortest organized cycling event I’ve ever ridden – 21 miles. There is no fanfare for a ride like this, just people who want to ride in a supported event with fellow cyclists. As expected, the first half of the ride was a little slow and clunky. 

I didn’t have the speed or rhythm I wanted, and the distance didn’t give me much time to “get into it.” But I pressed on, and, just like always, around the 10-mile mark, everything shook out and I even managed to set a speed record for myself. But I learned something different from the experience.

My “first 10 miles” could also be a metaphor for recognizing our strengths or shortcomings as we work toward any goal. Manageable, short-term accomplishments make the overall effort more rewarding. Hopefully, moving forward we learn and adjust, keeping a clear vision of the finish line. Before too long you’ve met your goal and your obstacles are in the rear-view mirror.