Lessons on a Gravel Road (Tales from Unbound 2025)
I’m going to see how it all unfolds.”
That’s what I told a few All.Ways cycling team members right before the National Anthem, when one of them asked me about my goal for the race. We were just minutes from the start of Unbound – a 200-mile gravel race in Emporia, Kansas.
Privately, I had set my usual “podium goals” to avoid the all-or-nothing goal-setting process that sets many of us up for disappointment.
- Gold Medal: Finish before sundown (sub-13 hours)
- Silver Medal: Finish before midnight
- Bronze Medal: Just finish
This approach gives us three shots at success because sometimes the most meaningful wins come disguised as plan B or even C.
When Everything Becomes Otherwise
This was my second Unbound. I started fast and strong, slightly ahead of schedule, despite a minor mechanical issue. However, at checkpoint #1, 70 miles in, the warning signs began to appear. Even though I was drinking consistently, I had to force myself to use the porta-potty. It was a yellow flag, perhaps a pun intended.
Seven miles later, I felt the first signs of leg cramps and bonk (cyclist-speak for running out of gas). My nutrition and hydration plan had been working until it wasn’t. As the temps rose, my pace dropped, and other cyclists zipped past me.
For 75 brutal minutes, my mind spiraled. Quit or continue? Should I listen to my inner critic or utilize every mindfulness tool I’ve learned? I worried about what people might think. What if I can’t make the next checkpoint? What if… what if… what the actual…!
My head was loud, and honestly, it wasn’t helpful.
We prepare for some challenges. Others ambush us. And in those darker miles, I clung to a phrase often (mis)attributed to the Buddha: “Everything is becoming otherwise.”
The Power of Impermanence
In endurance racing and life, impermanence is everything. Nothing stays the same. Gravel roads shift from smooth to rutted to mud-caked — weather changes, body sensations change, as does the chatter in our minds.
Eventually, those hard 75 minutes passed. The calories and electrolytes I consumed at checkpoint #1 began to take effect. I found a little rhythm again to get up and over the relentless hills of Kansas. (Spoiler: Kansas isn’t flat. The Flint Hills will humble you faster than you can say Patrick Mahomes.)
Let It Be
By the time I got to checkpoint #2 in Council Grove, every cyclist who passed me was like a wake-up call to my inner critic. But instead of fighting it, I just let it be and ride alongside. I knew the gold medal was gone. Yes, I was disappointed. But I was also still in it. Silver and bronze were within reach, and I sensed something else was unfolding.
With 54 miles to go, I slammed down everything from pickle juice to Coca-Cola and made a key mental shift: chunk it down, Michael. Just ride the next 20. That would leave 34, my typical weekday ride.
When I got there, I knew I could finish.
Finding Gold in the Peaches
As I approached the famous Kohola climb, the sky exploded with shades of peach and lavender. A Kansas sunset took whatever breath I still had away. It transported me to our 2022 cross-country ride. Kansas had taken me six days to cross, and every night, my wife and I would marvel at skies just like this. I know folks like California sunsets, but Kansas might have you beat.
I felt a wave of gratitude. Had I been able to maintain my gold medal pace, I would have missed this moment entirely. No memory. No lesson. No story. And no reminder that our greatest gifts often show up wrapped in struggle…if we’re willing to see them this way.
The Night Shift
After that climb, night fell. The temps cooled. My energy surged. (Three cheers for pickle juice.) Riding through the pitch-dark, with zero light pollution, was an incredible experience. Red taillights from other cyclists blinked in the distance. Crickets, frogs, and other unseen creatures took over the soundscape, and my cramps eased, and energy returned.
I started passing riders. Cowbells rang from the darkness. Invisible volunteers shouted encouragement. At the final climb, a college student handed out hot dogs. I don’t even eat hot dogs. But in that moment? Why not. Absurd joy, chosen!
One mile from the finish line, I shouted into the Kansas night: “You just did it!” (And I’ll be honest. I may have added a salty word in there.)
The Prize
My nutrition plan failed. I still don’t fully know why. But here’s the lesson: even when things don’t go to plan, they can still work out…if you keep pedaling.
After the race, my friend Steve texted me: “Sometimes it’s not about the race. It’s about the experience.” True in cycling. True in life.
Without the cramps and the bonk, I might have reached my gold medal goal. I may have earned a few extra Strava kudos.
But how long do those last? A few hours? A day?
What changes as a result? Not much.
Instead, I rode away with an experience that will last a lifetime and a new chapter in what it means to endure, persevere, and stay resilient. From mile 77 to 200, my inner critic watched me not give in. That’s the lesson. That’s the win.
The Evidence We Need
Modern life can make us soft. Moving walkways replace real walking. Comfort replaces challenge. Distraction replaces awareness.
But when we sign up for the tough stuff, mental or physical, we grow. That whole ride, I listened. No podcasts. No music. No smartphone scrolling.
Just the soundscape, my body, and my thoughts.
In today’s world, that’s rare.
Bored? We reach for our phones.
But each time we do, we atrophy.
We forget how to be human.
These moments build more than muscle.
They give us evidence: I’ve done hard things. I can do them again.
And so can you!
And you don’t need a 200-mile bike race. Sometimes it’s just one step. Then another. And another. Showing up. Being consistent, especially when you don’t feel like it.
Your Challenge This Week
Disconnect. Place your phone down.
Get Pause Breathe Reflect the Microdose EQ to help you because we all need help every now and then.
Listen to the world around you.
Tune into your body.
Your thoughts.
That’s where growth lives.
Notice impermanence.
Watch how each moment flows.
Feel how you cling to the pleasant and resist the uncomfortable.
Here’s the truth: winners know when and why to quit. That takes wisdom.
If I thought I was critically harming my body, I would have stopped. However, what I’ve observed over the years is that we often quit too soon. We listen to that critic. We stop before we’ve even seen what we’re capable of. And the more we quit, the easier it becomes to do it again. Soon, it becomes a habit.
That’s why I sign every one of my books with “Keep pedaling.”
It’s not just about bikes. It’s about life.
Because the only way to fully experience life is to move through it.
When things get hard (and they will)…
When your inner critic gets loud (and it will)…
When quitting feels like the easiest option (and it always will)…
Keep pedaling.
You might just discover that your plan B was your plan A all along. Sometimes, the most beautiful moments only arrive when you’re behind schedule, in the dark, and wondering if you’ll make it.
Until next week, have fun storming the castle.
I’m going to take an Epsom salt bath before I do. 🙂
Michael
p.s., A special thanks to Life Time, Shimano and all the volunteers who made Unbound ’25 possible. And to all my fellow cyclists who discarded your used GU or other gel packs on the roads, Mother Earth saw you. The next flat you get, you can thank karma.
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