Here’s a bold statement: Cycling didn’t just change my body—it transformed my entire life. But here’s where it gets controversial: Can you truly call yourself a cyclist before you’ve mastered every gear shift or logged hundreds of miles? Let’s dive in.
At the start of 2023, I was stuck. Not at rock bottom, but close. Juggling emergency nursing, erratic shift work, and a relationship that no longer served me, I felt lost. My mental and physical health were suffering, and I knew something had to change. After countless failed attempts to return to the gym, I decided to try something new. I joined an indoor cycling studio with a simple goal: show up three times a week. Little did I know, my competitive and slightly addictive ADHD personality would finally work in my favor. I found a space I loved, and I leaned in—hard.
One thing led to another, and soon I was the proud owner of a second-hand road bike, clueless about what I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t know a single cyclist, and the learning curve felt impossibly steep. Shimano what? My first ride was… humbling. I ended up on the ground, ripped lycra and bloodied leg to show for it. But quitting wasn’t an option. A few bandages weren’t going to stop me, because I knew this was where I wanted to be—even if I didn’t quite fit in yet.
And this is the part most people miss: the messy, awkward ‘in-between’ phase of change. I no longer belonged where I once stood, but I wasn’t yet where I wanted to go. Relationships ended, new ones began, and my values shifted—both on and off the bike. I remember asking a coworker after just a few rides, ‘Can I even call myself a cyclist yet?’ I felt like an imposter. But here’s the truth: those feelings were all in my head. The cycling community surprised me with their generosity, kindness, and openness. No one cared that I didn’t have a white helmet or proper cycling socks. My circle grew, each ride became less terrifying, and I got hooked on chasing milestones—and post-ride coffee with my new friends.
Growing up in Bowral, the Bowral Classic seemed like the perfect goal. Could I go from 0km to 150km with insane elevation gain in just a few months? I had no idea, but I signed up anyway. What’s the worst that could happen? Crossing that finish line was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The pride was overwhelming—I burst into tears (okay, the physical pain might’ve helped). But it wasn’t just about finishing. I was the second-fastest female. I was in disbelief. That moment gave me the self-belief I’d been missing. I finally felt like I belonged.
Fast forward to September 2025, and there I was, standing atop the Australian National Championships podium, wearing the green and gold jersey as the new MAS1 Road Race National Champion. A few small changes had snowballed into something bigger than I could’ve imagined. Cycling didn’t just improve my physical health—it reshaped my outlook on life, my self-worth, my resilience, and my ability to tackle hard things. It introduced me to an incredible mix of people from all walks of life, something I believe is unique to this sport. It connected me with amazing brands and opportunities, and it gave me the confidence to use my voice online.
So, here’s my advice to you: Buy the bike. It’s not as scary as your mind makes it out to be. Start small, start slow, start wherever you can. I promise, you won’t look back. And now, the question I once asked myself: Do you think I can call myself a cyclist now? Let me know in the comments—and while you’re at it, tell me: At what point does someone truly earn that title? Is it the miles, the gear, or something else entirely?
