Athletes, Mindset, and the Path of Personal Development

My dad was a big-time road cyclist. I grew up watching the Tour de France. I remember waiting for hours for my dad to come home from his weekend rides. My brother caught the bug. My ex-husband eventually did too.

Bikes were okay, but I mostly saw them as a mode of transportation. Road bikes seemed dangerous. And riding for no reason, or for exercise, just didn't seem fun. Eventually I was raising two kids, working full time, and dealing with some traumatic home-life issues. I couldn't even find time for a thirty-minute walk, let alone a several-hour bike ride.

But three years ago, following an identity collapse and the mental health crisis that came with it, I found my way to a gym. I started lifting heavy on the daily. I started running. Eventually I started training for a triathlon and bought my first road bike.

Soon enough I finally understood what road cycling was all about — the rush, the quiet alone time, the silencing of the mind, the discipline. I threw myself into it, bravely joining the hard, male-dominated group rides, getting a coach, and dropping triathlons altogether.

At first I was riding hard on every single ride. Eventually I learned about pacing, training, controlling my efforts, staying present even on the easy days. I learned the hard way about bike nutrition, about recovery, about the impact of my efforts on my nervous system.

I am now decidedly a professional amateur athlete (haha). I spend 10-12 hours a week riding, plus another six either preparing for or cleaning up from a ride, and a couple more hours lifting.

What I've learned about myself through this process is that I'm a very disciplined person. I like to be put in uncomfortable situations. I like to be challenged. I like the point of no return. And I'm willing to put in the time and work it takes to become the best I can be at 50 years old. That means good nutrition, good sleep, consistency, prioritization, disciplined practice, hard work, determination, patience and commitment to the long game.

It's made me realize that athletes are, in a lot of ways, already halfway trained for personal development work. Not because they're tougher or more special than anyone else, but because they've already practiced the exact muscle this work asks for: showing up when it's uncomfortable, trusting a process before you can see the results, setting a goal and doing the unglamorous daily work to get there.

While this muscle doesn’t belong only to athletes, my training has given me a language for something I now recognize everywhere.

So if you've spent years training your body for something hard, here's what I want you to know: you already have what this work requires. You already know how to pace yourself instead of burning out in the first mile. You already know that the breakthroughs come after the boring, consistent reps, not instead of them. You already know how to sit with discomfort without needing it to be over.

Personal development work asks for the same discipline, it's just pointed inward instead of at a finish line.

Growing up, I watched my dad disappear for hours at a time on his bike and always wondered what he was chasing. It took my own identity falling apart before I found out for myself. I don't think you should have to wait for a collapse to go looking. If you already know what it feels like to commit to something hard and stay with it, I'd love to help you point that same discipline toward the parts of your life that don't come with a training plan or a finish line, but that are just as worth showing up for.