This post originally marked my return to writing and the beginning of a much bigger cycling challenge.
In May 2017, after starting a new role, I joined the Cycle2Work Scheme. The practical attraction was obvious: the scheme made a better bike and equipment more affordable for commuting. What I did not anticipate was how much the commute itself would change things.
Learning to enjoy the commute
City riding introduced a different kind of problem-solving. There was traffic, weather, route planning, hills, clothing, nutrition and the daily negotiation with motivation. No two journeys felt quite the same.
At first, an hour and roughly eight miles in a week felt meaningful. Gradually, the distance and time increased. By the time of the original post, I had ridden 1,134 miles—about 1,824 km—and was regularly pushing beyond 13 miles and three hours of riding in a week.
The numbers were satisfying, but the bigger change was mental. Riding created a clear boundary around the working day. It required enough attention to quieten everything else, while the physical progress offered evidence that difficult things could become normal through repetition.
My fitness improved, but so did my ability to focus and my confidence in taking on something that initially looked too large.
Choosing a challenge that felt uncomfortable
The next target was the Maserati Tour de Yorkshire long-route sportive: 129 km, or roughly 80 miles, on many of the same roads used by the professional race and finishing on the Tour de Yorkshire finish line.
That distance was well outside my normal riding at the time. It was supposed to be.
A useful challenge needs enough uncertainty to demand preparation. If success is guaranteed, it is only a longer version of the routine. The sportive gave the training a purpose and created a date around which smaller decisions could be organised.
My early target was five hours and 45 minutes of moving time, based on Strava’s estimate. The exact number mattered less than having something concrete enough to plan against.
Riding for something beyond the finish line
I chose to raise money for Candlelighters, the charity supporting children and families affected by cancer in Yorkshire. It was also my employer’s chosen charity that year, but the reason for supporting it was personal and simple: children should never have to face something so aggressive, and families deserve practical help while they do.
The fundraising changed the nature of the ride. On a difficult training day, stopping no longer affected only my own goal. Other people had chosen to support the effort, and that commitment created a useful kind of accountability.
The training system behind the motivation
Motivation is unreliable. A plan has to work on the days when enthusiasm is missing.
The approach that emerged was straightforward:
- increase distance gradually rather than proving fitness in one heroic ride;
- make consistency the target before speed;
- learn food and hydration during training, not on event day;
- use Garmin and Strava as feedback, not as a judgement;
- break the route into sections that feel finishable;
- treat recovery as part of the training rather than an interruption to it.
That last point became increasingly important. More effort is not always more progress. Fatigue can hide inside determination, and the discipline to recover is sometimes harder than the discipline to train.
Looking back from 2026
Cycling did not remain a single event. It became a durable part of my life: longer rides, club riding, helping other cyclists as a ride leader and eventually another deeply personal charity challenge.
In June 2026, I completed the British Heart Foundation London to Brighton Bike Ride after a long break from consistent riding. The scale was different and the circumstances were very different, but I recognised the same mental model from 2018: do not ride the entire distance in your head. Ride to the next point, reassess and continue.
The connection between the two rides is not a neat story of constant progress. There were interruptions, setbacks and times when previous fitness felt very far away. That is precisely why the older post still matters.
Progress is not invalidated because it has to be rebuilt.
What the road taught me
The lasting lesson was not that every challenge can be defeated through force of will. It was almost the opposite.
Large outcomes are normally built from a system of smaller actions: a route, the next training session, enough food, an honest recovery day, somebody to ride with and a reason strong enough to return after a setback.
The finish line makes the photograph. The repeatable system is what gets you there.