Bike Trips and . . . Diets? Changing Habits and Beating Barriers for a Better Life

My husband Kevin and I just returned from our fourth-annual bike trip. We start said bike trip our home and loop through the Midwest, arriving back one week later.

To answer the most frequently asked questions about our bike trip: We stay in motels. Kevin pulls a small trailer. We average 500 miles per bike trip and 70 miles per day (although I did travel 116 miles on one glorious, wind-blown day!). Primarily, we ride on highways throughout our bike trips, looking for wide shoulders and low traffic.

Is it hard?

Well, yeah.

Then why?

Because a bike trip is an almost decision-free vacation, it is very stress-free. We simply decide in the morning which direction we will go, then we get on our bikes and ride—trying our best to coordinate our exhaustion/collapse with the availability of a motel room.

Our bike trips take me out of decision-making mode and into a place of simple observation and reflection, allowing me to tune in to the hundreds of variations of green. I begin changing habits from my hectic life almost immediately—I notice every smell. The clouds are all unique. The houses and their yard trash become anthropological wonders. Everything reminds me of just how wonderful changing habits can be.

The biggest hurdle on any bike trip is actually starting the day. This is the time when changing habits from my regular, non–bike trip life is the most challenging.

I groan myself awake at 6:30 AM, take some Advil, and check the wind direction. (Talk about changing habits!) I eat some fruit or nuts and force myself onto the bike. I feel sorry for myself, especially for the part of me that meets the seat. I tell Kevin that today I probably won’t be able to go as far. (No changing habits here; he hears this nearly every morning of every bike trip.)

As the miles of the bike trip loom before me, I assess and reassess the six outside factors that influence each day’s ride: wind, temperature, surface, shoulder, traffic, and hills. Somewhere around mile 8, I’m able to see that all factors aren’t really against me. (And if they truly are all against me, I should change routes or just shut it down and get a hotel room. No one is making me do this, right?)

I stop worrying about how hard it “might” be or how difficult it “will” be. This allows me to start adjusting to what actually is. I call this changing habits for the better.

When I make it to mile 10, I realize I’ve already ridden half the distance I wanted to accomplish before my morning breakfast break. Just another 10 miles and I can guiltlessly stop for whatever presents itself. That might be a cup of coffee and pancakes, or it might be a granola bar, juice, and a donut while I read the newspaper under a shade tree. This is changing habits for the even better still; I rarely have such time to reflect outside my bike trip.

I start appreciating the blue of the cornflowers (changing habits for the very best!), and I spend a minute fondling a youthful memory of gathering tiger lilies for my mother. My thoughts drift to her current health and appreciating her in my life before I notice a wheat field, and wonder why there are so many less than there used to be; I’m not the only thing changing habits, it seems.

As I follow my thoughts, I’ve now passed a barrier. My breathing evens, and I appreciatively observe the sun on my face.

One morning on our latest bike trip, as I was overcoming that 10-mile habit-changing barrier, I suddenly realized I was actually enjoying the rain that had almost stopped me from leaving the hotel room that morning. All the other factors were in my favor: it was warm, and I was riding on a quiet, flat, wide-shouldered highway with the wind at my back. I thought about how few times in my adult life I had actually been out in the rain. I noticed the rain felt good on my skin. I became acutely aware of my changing habits, and was grateful for them.

I was grateful too that the rain was gentle and that my visor was keeping my glasses clear. Our bike trip was good. Life was good.

Maybe you are on a challenging journey—a “bike trip” of your own. Perhaps you are figuratively groaning yourself awake as you assess how hard changing habits can be.

You need to honestly assess all the factors and realize that everything is not against you. You need to push through mile 8 and change the biggest habit of all—your attitude.

By mile 9, you’ll be approaching the zone. You’ll have changed habits and be ticking off the miles, the pounds, the debt; you’ll be cruising along on your “bike trip,” whatever that may be.

As you push through mile 10, changing habits and move into acceptance, you’ll find pleasure in the things you “can” enjoy and discover that you’ve let go of the obsession on what you “can’t” have.

You may even recognize a “halfway-to-breakfast” landmark approaching. You’ll find that, despite the fact that you occasionally have to turn down a piece of cake or stop eating fast food, there are still plenty of positive things on which to focus.

You’ll find that changing habits is good. You’ll find that life is good.