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I have struggled with my weight my entire adult life. Dwelling among cubicles for two decades, my sedentary existence saw my weight climb to nearly 300 lbs. The number is irrelevant, but the discomfort, desperation, and despair I lived with were all very real.
Fast forward to the COVID-19 global pandemic, I came to a crossroads where I realized I could choose which “95” I wanted to be—eat, drink, and laze my way to 395 lbs., or battle the isolation and anxiety by getting on my bike and pedaling toward 195 lbs. I chose the latter.
Almost three years later, I have logged more than 50,000 kilometers on my bike. I am not a slick, spandexed cyclist practicing his art in pelotons.
I am a lone, obsessed hobbyist.
