Diary of a New Cyclist Pt 8 — Getting Back on the Bike
By: Sarah Berry
Tags: Cycling, Transport, Wellbeing

A few months back I had a bad ride.

I wasn’t injured or abused. I didn’t crash, fall off, or get an ill-timed puncture. It just felt…bad. It was one of those rides where it felt like every single car was trying to intimidate me as they passed. As if that was their one moment to make their feelings known — “you don’t belong,” they were saying “get out of my space.” Every close pass felt like a punishment for some wrongdoing I had committed just by existing.

I had a bad ride, but that’s not what this entry is about (though if you want to read about it, you can do so here). This is about what happened next.

What happened next is that I stopped riding my bike.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. I didn’t lock the bike shed that afternoon safe in the knowledge that my love affair with cycling was over once and for all. The thought “I won’t be doing that again,” never crossed my mind. But the next time the opportunity came to ride my bike, I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. I figured if I just walked to the library instead then I wouldn’t have to steel myself for the journey. And then I kept making that decision over, and over, and over again until I realised it had been more than a month since I’d been for a ride. And at that point, getting back on it all of a sudden seemed like A Big Deal.

This experience, like most of the ones I’ve had on my bike, isn’t unique to me. Since I’ve started talking about cycling I’ve heard countless stories from folks who gave it a go for a while but gave up after one-too-many near misses. In a Guardian story highlighting the 10 things that stop people from cycling, seven of the reasons were related to the roads being too dangerous — either because of drivers or design. I wasn’t alone, but this wasn’t a comfort either. I didn’t want to be part of the churn — one of many would-be cyclists bullied off the roads by possessive drivers. I wanted to get back on my bike.

So I asked for help.

As I’ve come to expect from the cycling community, people were extremely helpful and generous with their time and responses. I was overwhelmed with offers from potential cycling companions willing to come out and join me for my first time back on the bike. The advice they gave was kind and smart and consistent. Here’s what the experts had to say:

Give it time

This was the one, perhaps for obvious reasons, that I was most drawn to. It’s Winter, it’s rainy, it’s cold, it’s lockdown — I have nowhere I need to be. The incentives to cycle are few and far between, and that’s okay. Those suggesting this approach reminded me that I was under no obligation to cycle, and that one day, when the sun is shining and I have somewhere I want to be, I’ll get on my bike and head out without thinking.

Take it slow

By far this was the most common piece of advice. To go for a slow, leisurely ride somewhere quiet and beautiful — away from cars, from people and from any sense of danger. This gives you the opportunity to remember what’s so great about cycling in the first place — the freedom, the connection to nature, the opportunity for spontaneity.

Entice yourself

Those who know me well know I’m a big fan of temptation bundling — the act of motivating yourself by combining something you really want with something you really don’t want to do — like saying you can watch the season finale of the Queen’s Gambit once and only once you’ve hoovered the flat. Well, the same can work to get you back on your bike. Think of something you really love — like a particular park, cinema, coffee shop, whatever it is — and tell yourself you can only go there by bike. Soon enough, the temptation will be stronger than the fear.