Life in the Bike Lane: It's not just a hobby

For avid cyclists, being off the bike for a protracted period feels like losing a piece of themselves. Cycling isn't just a hobby — it's a routine, a source of joy, a mental reset and often the highlight of the day. One misses the wind in the face, the sun on the back and maybe the satisfaction of cresting a hill once dreaded. Conversations while riding are necessarily short or oft-interrupted (Car back!) but no less missed. And the doughnut shops: both a respite and a reward. The sound of five cyclists "clipping in" when the light turns green is like a drum fill in a favorite rock song. It's a simple pleasure, but little compares to a bike ride. When all of that is taken away due to injury, illness, weather or life obligations, there is an impact. There is a sadness that comes from not being able to ride, even for a short while. Oh, it's not just the lack of exercise — it's missing the rhythm of the pedals, the quiet hum of the tires on new asphalt and the way the vistas open up when on the road. Riding is an escape, a meditation. Without it, there's an emptiness. A restlessness sets in — a sense that something is not quite right. "What do I do now?" The body feels sluggish, the mind less clear. Many riders depend on their regular miles not just for fitness but for peace of mind. Riding clears heads, sorts thoughts. Without it, mental clarity fades and frustration builds. And it's fun. Even when you round that turn on Baxter Grade and you still can't see the top. There's also a strong social component. Group rides, coffee stops and spontaneous conversations at red lights are part of the cycling culture. Not having a few of those moments can feel isolating. Watching friends ride without you — seeing their photos, hearing their stories — can be both heartwarming and gut-wrenching. And then there's the bike itself, sitting in the garage like a loyal dog who doesn't understand why the walks have stopped. Every glance in its direction is a mix of guilt, longing and anticipation. A recent study found avid cyclists form strong emotional bonds to their bikes. Is my bike upset because we haven't been out for a while? Being sidelined — for any reason – leaves the Avid Cyclist restless, maybe prompting a visit to the garage just to check tire pressure even though there won't be a ride before a week from whenever. When photos of past rides scroll by on the computer slide show, each climb and curve in the road on that route is replayed in the mind. Still, most seasoned cyclists know this is part of the deal. Setbacks happen. And when the day finally comes — when the body is ready or the sky clears — the first ride back is pure magic. Legs may be weak, lungs out of shape, but the joy is stronger than ever. The road feels welcoming again. And for those few miles, everything feels right. Remember: This is temporary. The bike is waiting, and the road isn't going anywhere. When the Avid Cyclist rides again, it will feel like coming home.