Finding the rythm again, one climb at a time
There is a moment every cyclist knows. The one where you're clipping in, the morning air still cool on your face, and everything else in life temporarily disappears. Riding feels effortless, you're not gasping for breath the second you push a little harder, and you can slip into a flow state. That feeling is what we're chasing, but getting there isn't straightforward, and it takes real effort.
Finding the motivation to ride#
Let's be honest: motivation is a liar. It shows up when you don't need it, while you're watching a race on TV, on rest days, or mid-conversation at a dinner party, and it vanishes the moment the alarm goes off at 6am and it's rainy outside.
The truth is that motivation follows action, not the other way around. You don't wait to feel like riding, you just go for a ride and then you feel it.
One great way to not only rely on motivation is to build systems. Think of yourself as a robot executing a pre-programmed sequence: wake up, eat, kit up, roll out. No decisions, no negotiations with yourself, no "maybe I'll go tomorrow."
The goal is to eliminate as many friction points as possible the night before by preparing all the stuff you will need so that when you wake up or come back from a day of work, your only job is to execute. No thinking required, you've already made every decision. This is how many riders do it, not through some superhuman willpower, but through preparation the evening before.
The early morning ride is a different religion. The roads are empty, the light is golden, and you're back before the day has even begun. It feels like you've stolen something from time. Every cyclist knows how better it is when roads are almost empty of cars.
The post-work ride is often the easiest one to skeep. You're tired, your brain is full from a day of work, and the sofa is right there. The key here is commitment, change into your kit the moment you get home. Once you're in bib shorts, you're committed. Nobody sits back down on the sofa in bib shorts.
Gym work: the underrated foundation#
Before your legs are ready for hard efforts on the bike, the gym can do a lot of the groundwork.
Cyclists often neglect strength training, which is a mistake, especially when returning from a break. If you are a tall guy like me and plan to go for some climbs, prepare your muscle before going for it. Talking from experience, when the gravity pulls you back so hard and your muscles struggle with the gradient, it's not a good feeling.
Two sessions a week in the first month will pay dividends the rest of the season. You'll get back to full fitness faster, and you'll be more robust when you do start pushing harder.
Riding with friends#
Even though I'm not personally a huge fan of group rides, because I like to have only wind in front of me and find my own rythm, pushing pedals at my own pace, I have to admit that they are a great way to stay motivated and to discover new places.
There is no better motivator than a group ride on the calendar. You won't bail, people are expecting you to show up.
But beyond accountability, riding with others is something else entirely. It's a few hours where conversation flows easily (at the right pace), where the kilometers disappear, and where you see the world from a vantage point most people never get to.
Solo, you tend to stick to what you know. With friends, the route becomes a negotiation, a discovery, an adventure. Someone always knows a road you've never ridden, a climb you'd never have found on your own or a descent that makes you grin for the rest of the day.
I'm writing this from Grasse, in the hills above the Côte d'Azur, where I've spent the last few days riding with friends. And I'll be honest — I never would have come here alone. I might have prefered the Alpes, the Pyrenees or going back to my family near the Cevennes, some places I already know a bit.
Grasse is a perfect start for the season with shorter climbs, beautiful landscapes and the possibility to go to the coast to enjoy the view of the sea. Even though I don't fall into the light climber category, I quite enjoy it as long as the gradient does not go above 12%.
The rides have been hard enough to remind me why I started cycling in the first place. And every evening, there's the ritual of the group dinner, the replaying of the day's kilometers, the planning of tomorrow's route.
This is what riding with friends gives you: not just kilometres, but memories attached to those kilometres. Landscapes you'll associate with a conversation, a climb, a shared struggle or a moment of unexpected beauty after a turn.
Currently riding in Grasse, France. Not coming back before next week.
