Strava Told Me I Suck
A comeback story
Today’s newsletter is short, but (hopefully) sweet. I’ve been talking a lot lately about vulnerability and the importance of being honest about what we find hard. So, it only felt right to dedicate today’s piece to my somewhat dramatic decline in fitness and the very real struggle of getting back on track. Spoiler alert: it involves cheese, a floppy bottom, and Strava giving me a (brutal) reality check.
If anyone has ever believed me to be superhuman, I invite you to observe exhibit A.
Yes, that’s Strava letting me know that, over the past three months, my fitness has taken a complete nosedive - from a respectable 128 down to a sorry-looking 10. Apparently, this is what happens when you completely abandon your bike for two months and avoid anything even slightly resembling exercise.
I can’t say that I’m surprised. Since neglecting my bike I’ve noticed the telltale signs; my leg muscles a little less defined, my backside a little less firm. I’ve noticed other things too, like the shortness of breath while climbing the three flights of stairs up to my apartment, or the alarmingly high heart rate when attempting what should have been an “easy” run.
I guess this is what happens when you let exercise take a backseat, allow yourself to get swept up in the routine of life, and overindulge in everything festive (mainly cheese, if we’re being honest).
So, when I cautiously launched Zwift one evening last week and battled through my first workout since September, is it any wonder that everything felt hard?
I could paint you a picture of the event using many colourful, self-deprecating words, but I’ll spare you the pitiful details. Instead, I’ll say this: it didn’t feel as though I’d only recently ridden 4,000km to the end of the world. In fact, it didn’t feel as though I’d ever ridden a bike at all.
But where I would have previously cursed my failed efforts and spiralled into a pit of criticism and self-doubt, I instead did something I’ve never done before. I shrugged it off.
Has my recent disregard for exercise meant that I’ve lost fitness? Absolutely. But does it mean that I’ll never get it back? Hell no.
I think that sometimes (basically always) we can be our own worst enemy, telling ourselves little lies to justify avoiding the hard thing. “It's Christmas”, “I deserve a break”, “One more slice of cheese never hurt”. But, whilst there’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking a break or indulging now and then, we need to make sure we’re not using those moments as an excuse to give up on ourselves entirely.
And it’s true - feeling bad at something totally sucks. Knowing how much effort it’s going to take to stop it from feeling hard is even worse. And comparing ourselves to the version of us we once were is worse still. That’s the version that lingers in our heads, whispering reminders of how strong, fast, or capable we used to be. And instead of motivating us, those whispers can hold us back.
This is where we usually stop and throw in the proverbial towel, sinking back into routines, Netflix marathons, and avoidance. At first, it feels like relief - permission to pause, to escape the discomfort. But soon enough, it’s not fun anymore. It’s laced with “should haves,” “could haves,” and “would haves,” and the guilt starts to seep into everything we do (or don’t do). Rest becomes unease, and indulgence becomes regret.
But, guess what?
This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been here before - exactly three years ago, to be precise, when I was celebrating my first 100km ride. Back then, finishing 100km felt like I’d just conquered Everest on a tricycle. And then only six short months later, I was out there conquering double-centuries before breakfast.
I’ve done it before, and I know I can do it again. The difference this time is that I have the experience and perspective to know that these kind of setbacks don’t define me. Just because I’m at square one doesn’t mean I’m permanently stuck here.
Which means I’m not at all embarrassed to admit that my previous 3.5w/kg FTP now resembles something much closer to 2.7, or that I had to decrease the Zwift bias to 80% just to finish the workout. Because that’s totally fine, and normal, and ok.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that losing fitness isn’t the catastrophic event we sometimes imagine it to be. Taking a break, or recovering from injury, or enjoying an extra slice of cheese (or five) doesn’t automatically sentence us to a life of cycling mediocrity.
The pressure to always be at our peak can be overwhelming, but sometimes the best thing we can do is slow down, let go of the guilt, and just embrace where we are. These pauses don’t erase the progress we've made - they’re part of the journey.
So, while I may not be setting any new FTP records any time soon, I’m perfectly content with where I am. Honestly, I’m just excited that I found the motivation to get back on the bike at all. Starting again feels like an achievement in its own right.
I’ve got some pretty big races lined up for next year (coming soon to a newsletter near you), so I know I’ll need to get into a more consistent training routine at some point. But for now, I’m just letting myself enjoy the process, knowing that when the time comes to ramp things up, I’ll be ready.
It doesn’t need to take a heroic effort or be some kind of grand comeback. And I don’t need to be the fittest version of myself right now. I just need to be the version that shows up. One ride, one run, one step at a time. It doesn’t have to be pretty, it doesn’t have to be fast, and it sure as hell doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be done.
And bit by bit, I’ll rebuild my strength, and find myself stronger than I ever was before.
P.S if you’ve enjoyed my writing so far and think others might quite like it too, it would mean the world to me if you could spread the word 💜