There was a time long ago in human history when life was easy: you were born, you scraped by for a few years, then you died. But if you’re a westerner in the 21st century your existence is exponentially more difficult than it was for your coddled ancestors. Tribulations you may now face on a daily basis include your food being too delicious, your sources of entertainment being too abundant, and most challenging of all, your leisure activity of choice being too exhausting:
Consider the author, who had to endure falling off his bike and then intentionally baking himself in his own bathroom:
Two days after Christmas 2022, I woke up covered in bandages. The day before, I’d had a mechanical issue mid-sprint during a training ride and went over my handlebars at 52kph (32mph). I’d gone to A&E but spent only about five minutes there before deciding I would manage the injuries at home – possibly a mistake. What hurt most was that I had just begun a training de-load after three months of intense build-up to the Australian National Championships elite road race, which was only two weeks away.
Four days later, on New Year’s Eve, I was in my bathroom with the tumble dryer on, no fan, in the middle of the Australian summer, completing my heat acclimatisation training.
Of course a young athlete dependent on a sport for his livelihood is under tremendous pressure and may even resort to extreme measures in order to succeed. This can be tragic. But if you’re a 37 year-old clinical psychologist, that’s something else:
I was 37 at the time, a decent-level amateur cyclist, and working full-time as a clinical psychologist.
By the way, what is going on in Australia? How is someone who intentionally suffocates himself in a closed room employed to help other people with their mental problems? Is there no screening process in place for these positions? I too was once a 37 year-old amateur cyclist (though unlike the author I was several rungs below “decent”), and as such I can assure you that this is a huge flamme rouge that should immediately disqualify someone from any job that involves giving people any kind of advice, just like sex offenders can’t be hired as teachers.
But yes, there’s no question that modern life can be complicated. Ideally you’d find your career and your family nothing but rewarding, but despite your best efforts crises can and do arise, and the correct course of action is not always clear. Fortunately, fewer things are more straightforward than what to do when the stuff you do for fun isn’t fun anymore. Sunburned after lying on the beach? Best to stay out of the sun. Hung over after a night on the town? Couldn’t hurt to cut back on the drinking. Spending the holidays mummified in blood-soaked bandages and sweating your ass off in an Antipodean restroom only to get dropped at Nationals? Maybe ease up on the cycling…or JBARA:
Instead, the author launches a deep intellectual probe into the nature of burnout:
In cycling, burnout can show up as declining performance, joyless racing, loss of motivation, poor sleep, flat mood, irritability, and wanting to stop altogether. However, stepping away from cycling doesn’t always mean burnout. Some riders walk away for safety, lifestyle or identity reasons, and the line between choice and collapse isn’t always clear. I was keen to find out if burnout affected professional, development and amateur riders in the same way – and whether it’s a growing trend?
And while, in all fairness to the author, understanding the dangers of burnout is certainly worthwhile for professional teams who have lots of money on the line, and who are responsible for the physical and mental well-being of developing riders, when it comes to amateur cyclists…who the hell cares?
Amateurs also at risk
Burnout isn’t limited to the professionals. In fact, many cases occur in the amateur ranks, though they receive little attention. They may be riding purely for the love of it, but that love can be curtailed. Sometimes amateur riders push themselves harder than pros: 20-plus-hour weeks on top of a full-time job, chasing race results that only their immediate rivals notice. For some, it’s meaningful. For others, it becomes a grind – especially when life gets in the way. However, for many amateurs, stepping back can feel like failure. If your identity has over many years become wrapped up in being the ‘fit one’ or the ‘first-cat racer’, it’s hard to admit when you’re struggling. Social media magnifies this. With so many people posting ride data online, it can feel difficult to break the cycle.
In fact, while I’m no psychologist, I’d argue that for amateurs there’s really no such thing as “burnout” at all. If anything, amateur bike racing fits virtually all the criteria for “delusional disorder:”
What is it?
Delusional disorder is characterized as having one or more false beliefs based on an incorrect interpretation of reality lasting at least one month. Other than the delusions, the person usually appears to function normally. Delusions can occur as part of many different psychiatric disorders. But the term delusional disorder is used when delusions are the most prominent symptom.
Let’s break it down:
- …having one or more false beliefs based on an incorrect interpretation of reality lasting at least one month = not realizing that you suck when you demonstrably do indeed suck
- Other than the delusions, the person usually appears to function normally… = shows up to work at the investment bank or tech startup, can afford the S-Works
- …the term delusional disorder is used when delusions are the most prominent symptom = this is perhaps the most apt description of the social media accounts, YouTube channels, magazines, websites, and blogs that comprise the “cycling media” I’ve ever read
With regard to that last bullet, consider one cycling writer describing his luxurious (and free!) Swiss cycling vacation in a “Bicycling” magazine article:
Wednesday’s ride over the Nufenen Pass—one of the highest paved roads in Switzerland at over 8,000 feet—dwarfs them both. The Nufenen Pass is very possibly the most difficult physical challenge I’ve ever endured […] and when I finally emerge from the thick fog that shrouds the upper reaches of the mountain and arrive at its barren, windswept summit, I feel drained and yet capable of anything. It’s a sense of accomplishment so powerful that I can almost see it in front of me.
Holy crap, you rode a bike up a hill, ate a lavish meal, and then spent the night in a luxury hotel. Get a grip! This is everything wrong with the cycling media, cycling, and the entire world.
As for the JBARA solution, that’s not foolproof either, and as the owner of several Rivendae I can assure you we’re not immune. Sure, one day you’re riding along at a reasonable pace, upright and comfy, and then the next you’re trying and failing to wrap your handlebars with Newbaum’s and sobbing the shower as you go all “Silkwood” on yourself with a bar of pine tar soap in an attempt to get the shellac out of your hair.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.