Pedaling with a Purpose Embraces Both Joy and Pain on the Bike

How balancing joy and pain gives deeper meaning to a bike ride.

May 16, 2025

Author touring the Great Allegheny Passage

This past weekend, I returned from the Miami Valley Cycling Summit, where I had the privilege of presenting. The summit’s highlight was the keynote by Erick Cedeño, widely known as the Bicycle Nomad. He views cycling as more than recreation or transportation. For him, it’s a powerful form of storytelling, a means to explore history, and a path to self-discovery.

Erick’s keynote was engaging and profoundly insightful. The most compelling story he shared was the often-overlooked journey of the Buffalo Soldiers of the 25th Infantry Regiment Bicycle Corps. In 1897, this group of Black soldiers undertook an incredible 1,900-mile expedition from Fort Missoula, Montana, to St. Louis, Missouri, to test the bicycle’s viability in military operations. It was a time when the world moved at the pace of a bicycle wheel.

Erick’s bicycle was merely the vehicle for his deeper purpose of retracing their route. He was honoring the legacy of the Buffalo Soldiers. Through extensive research and immersion in their journals, he sought to understand their struggles and triumphs firsthand. Retracing their route, he stepped into their boots and onto their bicycles to experience the roads, trails, and campsites they traversed over a century ago.

For 41 days, Erick cycled through mountain passes, desert stretches, and small towns, enduring physical and mental hardships that echoed those faced by the soldiers. Every mile under his wheels became an opportunity to reflect on the immense challenges of their journey on heavy, overloaded single-speed bikes. Each encounter offered a moment to contemplate the racism they endured, a prejudice that sadly lingers for some today. He rode through heat, cold, rain, and sun, bearing the weight of their stories.

Enjoyed meeting Erick Cedeño (the Bicycle Nomad) at the Miami Valley Cycling Summit.

Finding My Purpose on the Bike

Erick’s journey struck a personal chord with me. He wasn’t just cycling to complete a route. He was riding to connect with history and honor the Buffalo Soldiers’ lives. Every mile was a lesson in resilience: physical, mental, and spiritual.

His story prompted me to reflect on my return to cycling later in life. I had a powerful motivation to improve my mental and physical well-being. The countless days spent on my Huffy bike as a kid were reborn with a deeper, more significant purpose.

Initially, my purpose in rediscovering cycling was simple: to get healthier and fitter. This clear goal was what I needed after a heart attack and triple coronary bypass surgery at 52. I started cycling regularly on trails, eventually forming a trail cycling meetup with friends. The camaraderie, shared goals, and mutual encouragement made me fitter and happier.

As I matured as a cyclist, so did my motivation. I began riding to support meaningful causes, raising funds for the Multiple Sclerosis Society and pancreatic cancer research. I often found myself among a community of cyclists who rode in honor of those who couldn’t. The reward was no longer personal achievement but being part of something greater than myself.

When a friend suggested a week-long cycling tour, I hesitated and eventually jumped at the chance. Despite being newcomers to bicycle touring, we set off on a self-supported adventure. Each day was a lesson in self-reliance, immersing in nature, and embracing the unknown. I connected with people and places in ways I hadn’t anticipated, finding joy, pain, and a new sense of purpose with every mile.

Solo tours followed. The first was daunting. It was just me, my bike, and the miles ahead. Without a companion to share the journey, every hill, the wind, and muddy rainy miles felt twice as challenging. Yet, the nights alone offered the unique joy in the silence. I reflected on the day, savoring the memories of people met, landscapes passed, and the rewards of overcoming challenges.

I learned that pain in bicycle touring isn’t just something to endure. It’s a teacher who cuts through the noise and brings you face-to-face with yourself.

My Purpose Shifts with the Ride

Erick’s Buffalo Soldiers journey reinforced my belief that purpose extends beyond the miles and the finish line. As he neared the end of his trek, pedaling through the busy urban streets of St. Louis, he understood cycling every mile wasn’t the point of his expedition. He had already fulfilled the mission to bring the stories of the Buffalo Soldiers back to life.

Opting to end his ride a few miles short of the Buffalo Soldiers’ historic destination, he prioritized his safety and the essence of his journey over the compulsion to cycle every mile. He understood that missing a few miles didn’t diminish the significance of two thousand miles.

That lesson resonated deeply. For years, I drove myself to conquer every mile, hill, and challenge, seeing the finish line as the primary objective. I learned that the true purpose of cycling isn’t always about reaching the end. It means being attentive to my feelings by finding joy in cycling, inspired by the stories I encounter along the way.

The message Erick spoke to me was clear. His true goal wasn’t only finishing the ride but finding meaning in every mile. It was honoring a forgotten history, raising awareness of the Buffalo Soldiers’ legacy, and connecting with their journey on a physical and spiritual level.

These days, my cycling serves a range of intentions. Sometimes it’s about testing the limits and embracing the pain to remind me of the growth that it brings. Other times, it’s about slowing down, savoring the world around me, and being fulfilled by the ride.

Balancing these intentions allows me to enjoy my time on the bike and welcome challenges when they bring a greater sense of joy. Cycling, from a short day ride to a long tour, isn’t only about the miles. It’s about everything that happens between the beginning and the end: the stories seen and heard, the lessons learned, and the balance of joy, pain, and purpose

Next time you ride, ask yourself: What’s my purpose today? It may well be not about the miles, speed, or time. What matters is that you’re moving forward in whatever direction brings you joy and meaning.

A Valuable Lesson in Purpose

Half the World Away is a book chronicling Ian Lacey’s epic cycling journey from the northernmost to the southernmost points of the Americas. Lacey faced many challenges driven by a singular goal to pedal every mile.

In Central America, he was approaching a heavily loaded bike moving slowly. As he caught up, he met an older man with a lifetime of long-distance cycling adventures behind him. They rode together for a while, exchanging stories.

Lacey proudly recounted how he had cycled every mile and was determined to continue overcoming all the obstacles ahead. The man responded, "Your problem is that you're part of the EFI club."

Confused, Lacey asked what that meant. The man explained that EFI stands for “Every F***ing Inch”. It’s the relentless drive to cycle every mile and allow it to define the journey. He admitted he once was a member but realized that stepping off the bike now and then didn't detract from his purpose.

Lacey rejected this notion and was determined to cycle every mile. As his journey progressed, the miles and hours on the bike began to reveal the truth in the old man’s words. I won’t be a spoiler for those interested in reading the book. Suffice it to say, Lacey discovered that his purpose went beyond merely claiming he cycled every mile.

Reading this passage years ago remains in my mind and affirms my belief that finding joy in the ride matters more than earning a medal for pedaling every f***ing inch, especially the miles that offer pain with no gain.