I’m Going To Do Something Scary - Wish Me Luck

This year I turned 40. I'm not old, by any means (aside from the fact that I don't have TikTok), I feel young, healthy, and fit. But turning 40 still did something to me. It made me want to put myself out there and rack up as many experiences as I can while I'm still able to actually use the fitness I've built up over my youth, twenties, and thirties.

So naturally, I signed up for a 350km bike race.

Part of this was genuine ambition (I wanted to bike more). Part of it was not fully grasping what I was getting myself into, and part of it was falling victim to the fact that I have my credit card number memorized (thank you, modern digital consumerism, for removing every last shred of friction from a bad decision). It had been a while since I'd done something that genuinely scared me. Well, mission accomplished. I now have something that scares me a lot.

The challenge

The race is called Race Across Quebec. It’s part of a series of ultra-endurance cycling events held across Europe, with the RAQ as the only North American stop. My goal isn't to win, or even to place in my age category. I want to do something organized, epic, and hard. Something that challenges me on purpose.

And here's the kicker: 350km is, somehow, the second shortest distance on offer. The options are 200, 300 (they marketed as 300 but it’s ACTUALLY 350), 500, 1000, and 2500 kilometers. Yes, 2500. People do that. On bikes. Voluntarily. For fun. 

Two things struck me almost immediately. First, the sheer scale of commitment amateur endurance athletes bring to their sport is honestly kind of stunning. The more I dabble in this world, the more in awe I am of people who do this for fun. Second, 350km isn't something you casually decide to do on a whim, even with a solid fitness base. I'm respecting the challenge, though I'm intentionally not diving into a rigid structured training plan. I know myself well enough to know I tend to drop off the wagon when things get too regimented ever since I retired from competitive CrossFit.

As for training, I'm keeping it simple: every weekend I'm adding a bit more mileage to my long bike rides, and building in more elevation too. The goal isn't to peak too early or overtrain, it's to gradually feel out my volume and, just as importantly, dial in my equipment before race day. Twelve-plus hours in the saddle is not the time to discover your seat post hates you.

Speaking of which, I'm scared sh*tless of being on a bike for what will likely be 12 to 15 hours straight. But the more time I spend riding, the more my perspective on all of it has shifted. So here's what I'm learning as I get ready (emphasis on learning, I am very much still figuring this out). If your goal is to sign up for something new, exciting, and long, fitness will only take you so far. Here's what else matters.

Learn the sport, not just the training plan

Fitness gets you in the door, but it doesn't teach you the sport. If you're jumping into an Ironman, you should be reading up on the rules, the transitions, the equipment, the nutrition, all of it. Being generally fit doesn't exempt you from doing your homework. When you're stepping into something sport-specific, take notes from the people who've been doing it for years. Learn from them, and stay open-minded about how much you don't know yet. 

Equipment matters more than you think

Every endurance sport has its own gear cult for a reason (remember the high socks and Converse look circa 2011? No? Lucky you, you must be on tik tok). If you're training for a marathon, you need to actually test your shoes, your clothing, etc. There's a real, physical difference between running a 5K in trainers and running 42km in them. My race will likely last 12+ hours, which means I can't just show up with a bike and good intentions. I need to be self-sufficient and comfortable for that entire stretch, which means investing real thought into clothing, carrier bags, and anything else keeping me upright and sane out there.

This is where training helps a lot also, as I’m ramping up my volume, I’m realizing that my bib shorts (cycling shorts with a butt cushion) are not nearly as comfortable as I thought they would be. I learned this the hard way. I also learned that there are some really great anti-shaffing creams out there which I will be partaking in. There’s nothing worse than a small gash on your skin that hurts every single time you move your leg…especially if you’re only 80km in.  

Nutrition isn't optional, it's the event

This is the part I dread most, but you cannot skip it. Endurance sports run on fuel, and one of the biggest limiters on performance isn't fitness, it's your body's ability to actually absorb what you're eating while you're out there working. And nutrition isn't something you figure out on race day. You have to train it, the same way you train your legs.

Gut training is ACTUALLY a thing. 

Actually read the athlete package

If you're coming from a sport like CrossFit and don't have much experience in longer duration sports, this one's for you: in most endurance events, the rules, start times, mandatory gear, and everything else you need to know is written down for you to find on websites, FAQ & athlete packets. Nobody's giving you a friendly athlete briefing that spells it all out right before your race. Read the package. Twice.

Endurance and ultra-endurance events are incredible if you're looking to shake things up and see what your body is actually capable of. As nervous as I am about the hours ahead, what I'm most excited for is the scenery, the people I'll meet along the way, and figuring out how I handle the inevitable ups and downs.

I'm not treating this as a race. I'm treating it as a challenge, something I never would have done had I not clicked to register and paid the entry fee. But this fear of the unknown is making me feel alive, and I've explored more on my bike this year than ever before. That alone feels like a win.

Happy exploring!