This morning, I went on my very first group cycling ride — something that I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time, but hadn’t ever acted on. As someone fascinated with this sport, but totally lost on how to “enter” the community, I’d been resorting to cycling alone. I love cycling as a sport, and I love to ride alone, but my poor sense of direction and lack of deep knowledge of this biking subculture kept pushing me in the direction of finding a community within the biking world. Besides, community makes everything a whole lot better.
But… starting is hard. The excuses kept rolling in week after week. I didn’t have the right equipment. So, I did my research and finally invested in equipment. But… How do I even join a group ride? I went to my local bike store and asked for pointers, and they told me that there are group rides every Sunday at 9am. Got it. And then I didn’t do anything about it. I missed the group ride a few weeks in a row — slept in, made other plans, had better things to do… there was always something.
Fast forward to this morning, when I finally took the leap: I was sitting on my couch, 8:54am, geared up and ready to go, looking for routes that I could take. It was 8:55 when I realized that it was actually Sunday, and the local bike shop ride would be leaving any minute now. 8:56 when I decided, in that moment, that I could not miss this opportunity yet again; when I filled 2 water bottles, shoved a few snacks in my pockets, got my shoes on and headed out. 8:58 when I got on my bike and raced to the center of town to get to the bike shop. And 9:00 exactly when I arrived at the gathering.
There was a good handful of riders already there. Even though I was running in right at the last moment, luckily nothing had started yet. (Yes, I took this picture standing alone, awkwardly away from the group and very unsure of what to do.)
To be honest, when I arrived and took this photo, I also contemplated slowly turning around like I had entered the wrong parking lot and leaving. Everyone there looked more experienced than me, no one was my age, there were only 2 or 3 other girls that I could pick out in the crowd, and I felt totally out of place.
I finally worked up the courage to ask another person if they had been here before, and to my surprise, it was also their first ride here, which calmed my nerves, but not their first group ride (they’d been cycling for 15 years!). When people began splitting into groups, the majority chose to stick with the A or B group. I thought about just acting like I’d done this before and trying to look like I fit in by scooting into the back of the B group.
But at the end of the day, this was in fact my very first group ride. I wondered what would actually bring me the most value out of this experience: being a beginner and tagging along blindly with the more experienced riders, or being a beginner and starting in the beginner’s group.
And so, when the organizer asked who was looking for a “slow ride,” I timidly raised my hand, looked around the crowd to see only a few other hands half-raised, and for a moment wanted to melt into the pavement, but reminded myself there is nothing embarrassing about being new to something. So I peeled off from the big group to gather on the side with all two of the other beginners.
Spoiler alert: I had an AMAZING first group ride. Our group panned out to be only 3 people of varying skills (me, the group leader, and one more), but I was able to ride at a comfortable, conversational pace and ask the group leader for all of his tips and tricks he’d gained from over 20 years of experience. He taught me about group riding etiquette, talked me through shifting and positioning, clipping in and out of pedals (yes, I almost fell once, still getting used to these things), and so much more. Even though it wasn’t the fastest or longest ride I have been on, I can definitely say that I learned the most, and can also happily say that I feel so much more confident about coming back next week.
The first thing I learned from today: it’s easier to start when you don’t overthink it. It’s not that deep. Get your shoes on and go, you’ll figure out the rest through the journey. And the second: It’s okay to be a beginner, feel out of place, and have no idea what you’re doing. Do it anyway, because there’s only one way to learn; there’s only one way to make your place.
So, next time you feel like doing something but you’re afraid of looking like a fool, I can’t promise that you won’t embarrass yourself (you probably will), but I would encourage you to do it anyway. Dare to try, dare to fail, and for lack of a better cliché, everyone starts somewhere!!!
Love,
Leah
leave a comment!