That One Time I Thought I Was a Pro Cyclist (Spoiler: I Was Not)

It all started like every great adventure…

With overconfidence.

I had just watched a few Tour de France highlights on YouTube. Suddenly, I was inspired. I told myself, “You know what? You’ve got the heart of a champion… and probably the legs too.”

Narrator: He did not have the legs.


The Big Ride Plan

My brilliant idea? Bike to the next town over — about 20 kilometers away.

In my head: → Smooth roads
→ Cool breeze
→ People cheering me on like I’m in a race

Reality: → Potholes
→ Angry dogs
→ My own legs betraying me after 5 km


The Struggle Was Real

First 2 km: “This is amazing. I should bike every day.”

5 km: “Hmm… a little tired but still good.”

8 km: “Is that a cramp or is this how champions feel?”

10 km: Google Maps says I’m only halfway??”

13 km: Questioning all my life choices.

15 km: Started bargaining with the universe.

17 km: Considered calling a tricycle to tow me.

20 km: Arrived at my destination looking like I fought a bear and lost.


The Aftermath

I sat at a roadside store, drinking the coldest soda of my life, feeling like I just survived an episode of Man vs. Wild: Biker Edition.

Best part? I still had to bike back home.

Worst part? My legs refused to cooperate.

So yes… I learned my lesson that day:
→ I am not a Tour de France cyclist.
→ Always bring extra water.
→ Never underestimate a long ride.
→ And most importantly… enjoy the ride, even if it destroys you a little.

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