There was a time, however, when I would have seen nothing. When I would have looked down at my Wahoo<\/a> and at my heart rate and would have worked hard not to drop below 30km\/h. My thighs would ache and I would look at the road ahead of me and that was it.<\/p>\n You may like<\/p>\n Sean Russell writes about cycling for The Times and Sunday Times. He has\u00a0a particular love for Strade Bianche, the monuments and the Giro d\u2019Italia. He once spent the day in the neutral service car at Amstel Gold and rode up Alpe d\u2019Huez the day before Tom Pidcock won there at the Tour de France.\u00a0Russell was just 40 minutes slower\u2026<\/p>\n There was a time when I would see another rider up ahead and they would become a target, so I would stomp on the pedals to catch them and to pass them and then continue on my way. There was a time when I would care more about the Strava segments<\/a> and personal bests, and posting long winding routes with high average speeds and low average heart rates.<\/p>\n I would ignore the deer and the birds and the little churches. I would ride until I was empty and my legs were jelly. At some point, however, that stopped. I fell out of love with it and for a couple of years I barely rode at all.<\/p>\n Why do any of us start cycling<\/a>? First, perhaps, comes necessity. I first rode my bike to get around, to go to my friends\u2019 houses, to do my paper round and eventually to commute<\/a>. But why do we take that next step and plot a route among the countryside with no other purpose than to pedal in one great loop?<\/p>\n For me, it was because I enjoyed being out on those lanes and seeing the things I saw along the way and stopping in the little villages for a coffee and a cake. I bought my first road bike, a B\u2019Twin Triban 540 with Shimano 105<\/a>, for about \u00a3700 with one real intention: to ride Britain\u2019s narrow winding roads<\/a> with my brother who had, by that point, been riding for years.<\/p>\n My first proper ride was with him in Northamptonshire. I took a train up and we did a 50km loop he knew well and it was the furthest I\u2019d ever ridden. I wore a loose-fitting running T-shirt and shorts and trainers, a cheap helmet<\/a> and a pair of safety goggles. I said to my brother: \u201cI want to ride, but I don\u2019t want to be a Lycra wanker<\/a> like you.\u201d<\/p>\n Northamptonshire is mostly flat with some rolling hills. It is often windy but I enjoyed the ride, and we stopped for coffee and passed the fields and the woodlands and churches of England. Under the great Welland Viaduct we went and, oh how much of a place you can see while riding and how you can feel every metre of the land in your legs and I thought, then, that it was a very fine way to spend a weekend.<\/p>\n Within weeks I bought some ill-fitting Lycra and realised Lycra with trainers looked ridiculous and so bought some Shimano SPD-SL pedals <\/a>and shoes and the transformation was almost complete. I\u2019ve never been one for navigating by foot, car or bike and so I also invested in a Wahoo Elemnt Bolt <\/a>\u2014 purely so I could plot routes and follow them. That was when I became obsessed.<\/p>\n The 31-year-old Belgian pro, Tiesj Benoot, who joins Decathlon from Visma-Lease a Bike<\/a> next year, has recently lamented cycling\u2019s serious, data-led culture and blamed it for young riders quitting early, disillusioned with racing bicycles.<\/p>\n \u201cYou see talents quitting at 21 or 22 years old,\u201d he said on the Thomas Guenter Podcast. \u201cThey started cycling as a hobby but through all these small details they lose the joy completely and get mental problems<\/a>\u2026 young riders can see everything a professional does, for example, photos of people weighing their food. And I do not think that is a good trend.\u201d<\/p>\n While I never had any intention or desire to race professionally, this trend Benoot speaks of is not just at the competitive level but widespread among cycling culture. As I became increasingly obsessed with data and segments and FTP<\/a> and intervals<\/a> I began to imitate the professionals. I watched what I ate despite having no need to.<\/p>\n It\u2019s good to stay in shape, but my \u201cpeak\u201d weight was 63kg and I\u2019m 180cm tall, this was close to underweight<\/a>. I weighed myself every morning and night, and I stopped going out on Friday and Saturday nights with friends so I could ride early in the mornings. I became increasingly lonely. Those extra watts don\u2019t keep you company and I forgot why I started cycling to begin with.<\/p>\n One Sunday morning about three years ago I woke up at 6am and I hated the idea of riding<\/a>. I didn\u2019t want to get out of bed and push myself, I just wanted to sleep and go for a roast dinner and a pint and not worry about it. I wanted to stop weighing myself and fretting over every fluctuation and obsessing about my data and average speed.<\/p>\n When you spend most of your ride thinking about the Strava<\/a> file and what it will look like and what name you\u2019ll give it, something\u2019s wrong. More than anything, cycling felt an obligation and one I no longer wanted to get out of bed for, the joy was gone. Perhaps this was burnout<\/a>.<\/p>\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/9dmYazyjDi6YLiucYVXkpY.jpg\")
<\/p>\n