Here’s a bold statement: cycling can completely transform your life—physically, mentally, and emotionally. But here’s where it gets controversial: you don’t need to be a seasoned pro or even own a fancy bike to call yourself a cyclist. Let me explain.
At the start of 2023, I was stuck in a rut. Juggling the demands of emergency nursing, erratic shift work, and a relationship that no longer served me, I felt lost. My mental and physical health were suffering, and I knew something had to change. After countless failed attempts to get back into the gym, I decided to try something different—indoor cycling. With a modest goal of going three times a week, I discovered a passion I didn’t know I had. My competitive nature and ADHD-driven focus finally worked in my favor, and I was hooked.
But here’s the part most people miss: the journey from beginner to confident cyclist is messy, awkward, and often humbling. I bought a second-hand road bike with zero experience, knowing no one in the cycling world. My first ride ended with ripped lycra, bloodied legs, and a steep learning curve. Shimano? What’s that? Yet, I kept going. Why? Because I felt a pull—a sense of belonging to something bigger than myself.
During this ‘in-between’ phase, I questioned everything. Was I even a cyclist? I felt like an imposter, but the cycling community proved me wrong. Their generosity, kindness, and openness were overwhelming. Each ride became less daunting, and soon I was chasing milestones, fueled by post-ride coffees and newfound friendships. And this is where it gets emotional: crossing the finish line of the Bowral Classic—150km of grueling elevation—wasn’t just a physical achievement. It was a moment of self-belief, a proof that I belonged. Tears, pain, and all.
Fast forward to September 2025, and I stood atop the Australian National Championships podium, wearing the green and gold jersey as the MAS1 Road Race National Champion. Cycling didn’t just improve my fitness; it reshaped my outlook on life, boosted my self-worth, and introduced me to a diverse, dynamic community. It gave me opportunities, confidence, and a voice I never knew I had.
So, here’s my advice: buy the bike. Start small, start slow, but start. It’s less intimidating than you think, and the rewards are immeasurable. And now, the controversial question: does achieving a national championship title finally qualify me to call myself a cyclist? Or was I one all along, from that very first humbling ride? What do you think? Let’s discuss in the comments—I’m curious to hear your take!
