No Excuses: Get on Your Bike and Enjoy Life!
Ready for a Change? National Bike Month is Your Perfect Starting Point.

“Completing the ride was a reminder, which I hope has influenced loved ones and friends, that it is good once in a while to push the envelope, if only a little bit—to be willing to break away from the ordinary and try to do something that, in one way or another, puts you to a test.” — Don Petterson
That quote comes from Old Man on a Bicycle: A Ride Across America and How to Realize a More Enjoyable Old Age. According to Goodreads, I’ve read 42 books about bicycle touring. This book has remained in my mind six years later.
I rate my touring reads based on the challenge, purpose, and adventure of the ride, and the author’s ability to tell a good story. Petterson’s book earned 3.97 out of 5 stars from me. It was worth the time and an enjoyable read. His storytelling, while adequate, kept the book just shy of my coveted “Tom’s 5 Stars” rating.
But it wasn’t the writing. It was the story that made it stick with me. Petterson was 72 when he set out to ride across the United States. He hadn’t been on a bike since his mid-twenties. That’s almost 50 years out of the saddle before deciding to pedal thousands of miles to the West Coast. His journey was bound to be full of challenges and surprises.
His purpose? To do something monumental for his age—something remarkable. I won’t spoil the book for those who may read it, but I’ll say it had everything that makes a great bicycle touring story.
National Bike Month Challenge
The calendar just turned to May. In my northern climate, bikes are coming out of garages, getting tuned up, and hitting the trails and roads. The landscape is bursting into spring with wildflowers and crabapple trees in bloom. The air is thick with the fresh scent of new beginnings.
I’m writing to challenge anyone hesitant to rediscover the joy of cycling. Make no mistake: the bike is still there, waiting for you to experience the freedom and thrill of being outdoors. Don Petterson did it after years away from cycling.
Life happens. I know that personally. At age 52, I needed a major change. My life had become a cycle of work, TV, and laziness with a full schedule that left me unfulfilled. Then came a heart attack and cardiac surgery. That was my wake-up call. The message couldn’t have been clearer: change your life or die.
I hope you haven’t reached the same level of poor health and inactivity that I did. But “life happens” means something different to each of us. Our busy, modern lives make it easy to prioritize comfort and the familiar over health. Diet and exercise are often the first to suffer.
Now is the perfect time to shift your priorities. May is officially National Bike Month in the U.S. It’s a time to ride to work, market, or just for fun. It’s a time to reconnect with the outdoors and break from the routine of nothingness.
My invitation is open to all my readers, wherever you live. When you commit to cycling, you invest in your physical and mental health. Change is hard, but when it involves something fun and adventurous, it is more natural and sustainable.
In 2009, I prioritized my health over the time-wasters that once dominated my day. I pulled my dusty 1970s mountain bike from the garage ceiling and went for a trail ride. That ride changed my life. The couch and TV had robbed me of my time (actually, I let them). Today, streaming services and the internet would do the same if I let them.
Overnight Tour de France cyclist? Highly unlikely. That doesn’t matter. Just ride at your own pace, your distance. That first pedal stroke is the first step toward changing your life.
Tom’s Health Scorecard (2005–2016)
For years after my heart attack, I kept a personal scorecard. I revisited it annually to measure my progress. It was a concrete, trackable way to hold myself accountable.
☑ I’m exercising regularly.
☑ I’m losing or maintaining my weight.
☑ I’m eating healthier.
☑ My life is less stressful.
☑ I’m a happier person.
☑ I’m more sociable and outgoing.
☑ I’m living with passion and purpose.
☑ I see myself as a better person.
I rated each item on a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being failure and 5 being success. Over the years, my score steadily rose. I retired the scorecard at retirement. It had done its job. I found my path forward.
I encourage you to build your scorecard. Choose what matters most to you. Looking back, it’s clear. The bike became the vehicle, literally and figuratively, that drove my transformation. I was exercising, keeping my weight in check, connecting with a new cycling community, and discovering a love for touring.
Push the Envelope.
This is the month and the moment to get on your bike and "push the envelope." I borrowed that phrase from Don Petterson’s book because it resonated deeply. Pushing the envelope has helped me become the person I once only dreamed of being.
“Sometimes I recall an incident of my across-America journey, and I say to myself, ‘That was hard, and, doggone it, I did it.’ A moment of honest pride never hurt anyone.” — Don Petterson
“That was hard, and, doggone it, I did it.” Those words from Petterson’s closing remarks say it all. Change is hard. But when you do it, there’s pride, and pride fuels more change. Celebrate even the smallest victories.
Get on your bike!
Yes, I’ve said it more than once. I believe the bike has the power to transform. It brings freedom, fun, and fitness. It can connect families, foster friendships, and open the door to new passions and directions in life.
Get on your bike!
Hey Tom, great article. I don't have a problem getting on my bike and riding. My Ride with GPS recap for April says I rode 810 miles, but actually it was about 54 miles less because I used my Garmin to record the Magic School Bus route one day.
Without going into the details of what that was about, I'll just say I know my problem is breaking out of orbit...I ride in circles from home when I really want to break away and go on a lateral trajectory with a remote destination, but I am so bound to my community with responsibilities in various organizations I volunteer with.
I set out on a long journey once and crashed on day four--literally went over the handlebars and have no recollection of it--it had something to do with the overloaded bike and hills. Another time I fell off a trail at 5 mph with serious injury and resulting in hardware in my leg.
Later this month I will head out on a week long trip to a camp spot only 30 miles from home, but totally remote, and hope to do a couple century rides from my base camp.
I find I don't like the tediousness of setting up/breaking camp every day, plus all the other administrative duties, finding food, finding places to camp at 40 to 60 mile distances, etc. But hope that gets less burdensome with experience.
I've entertained finding a touring partner...or up to 3 others...but that also introduces complications. And then there's the obligations.... I'll go out and do my 25 miles or so today, but then I have to get two newsletters underway, plus work on plans for a fundraising bike ride that I organize.
Trying to learn to work smarter and say NO more often, but I doubt I will ever get on the open road. I've given in to just feeling satisfied with what I do for my community.
Karen, saying no is the key to a beneficial life. I was a yes-sayer for so many years. Breaking out of a routine is hard but it sounds like you have a good routine. In terms of touring partners, I've ventured down that path for the last 14 years. Choosing carefully is basically what I would say. One bad actor turns a tour sour. There is joy in solo touring but I also do it with others. I have learned to say no many times when choosing partners. Anyway, the miles you clocked in are amazing.