Ah, winter. That magical season when my cycling adventures primarily consist of staring at my walls while pedaling nowhere on an indoor trainer for 1-4 hours at a time. After a few thousand hours of this riveting entertainment, I can confidently map out every crack in my ceiling. But fear not, dear readers, there’s more to this tale than my intimate relationship with indoor architecture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Remember my epic Copenhagen to Croatia journey? I had high hopes for some life-changing epiphany during those countless kilometers. Spoiler alert: the only revelation was that my buttocks could, indeed, get even more sore. July found me taking an unplanned hiatus, partly due to Denmark’s spectacularly horrible weather (thanks, climate change), but mostly because my legs were staging a quiet rebellion. After three weeks of rest, I crawled back onto the saddle for a modest 200km ride, which, hilariously, matched half my entire July mileage. Quite the drop from June’s 2,200km and the consistent 800-1000km from previous months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
August brought a mix of shorter rides, mostly thanks to my flying lessons. Nothing says “efficient transportation” quite like cycling 60km round-trip to learn how to fall with style in a metal bird, right? The month totaled around 800km, a respectable bounce-back from July’s slump. The unstable weather kept canceling my rides, pushing them into what I hoped would be a more cooperative September.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
September, however, had other plans. As temperatures dropped faster than my cycling enthusiasm, I made one last heroic attempt at a long ride, setting off at the crack of\u2026 well, 9:00 AM (let’s be honest, who really likes those pre-dawn starts?). The first 120km were surprisingly enjoyable, until I managed to perform what I’d like to call an “unexpected barrier inspection.” Picture this: there I was, multitasking like a pro, planning my route on my computer while riding (spoiler: never a good idea), when I missed a curve and performed my first-ever crash. The sight of me struggling to unhook my shoes probably resembled a seal attempting parkour. A kind motorist stopped to check on me, bless their heart, but my pride was far more wounded than my knee. The scratch on my bicycle, though? That felt like a personal betrayal. Unfortunately, my brilliant strategy of “avoiding the direction of home” meant I was stuck between a 30km ride to the nearest train station or a 40km trek home. I chose the latter, limping home at a significantly reduced pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That crash effectively guillotined my enthusiasm for several ambitious plans I had brewing: the 310km ride and the 500km circumnavigation of Sj\u00e6lland will have to wait until next year. Between the chilly mornings and shrinking daylight, it was time to contemplate a better indoor trainer setup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
October brought a new toy: a 10+ year-old road bike that’s somehow both my indoor trainer’s new best friend and my wallet’s worst enemy. Originally intended as my daily rider, it’s found its true calling as my indoor training companion. Because apparently, one can never have too many bikes (sorry, bank account, you’re just a social construct anyway). The month wrapped up with less than 500km, but who’s counting? (I am, obviously.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
November passed in a blur of indoor training sessions and wall-staring championships. The highlight? My “new” vintage bike hit the 1,000km mark without falling apart, a testament to either excellent engineering or my surprisingly gentle riding style (let’s go with the former).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As December rolls in, I’m pushing toward my accidental goal of 10,000km for the year in training, plus about 2,000km of commuting (which I’ve stopped measuring because even my obsession with numbers has limits). That’s roughly 12,000km total, or 1,000km per month, not too shabby for someone who spent a considerable amount of time studying wall textures! While I missed out on registering for an April 2025 race, there’s another one back home in September 2025 that’s calling my name. Because nothing says “I’ve recovered from cycling burnout” quite like signing up for a competitive race, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n