Why Bicycling Is My Longevity Sport
Changing My Mindset Was The Hardest Part
December 2016 was the first warning sign. It should have been the only one I needed—but it wasn’t.
Molly and I were in Australia on what was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. As part of the tour, we visited Cape Conway in the Whitsunday Region of Queensland. To reach the beach, there was a fairly mild hike. Nothing extreme.
Halfway through, I was breathing like I was running a marathon at a world-record pace.
That should have scared me. It didn’t.
I chalked it up to being out of shape. At the time I was well over 380 pounds, my diet was terrible, and I knew something had to change—but I “didn’t have time.” I had just been elected to the Board of the California Teachers Association, one of the most powerful unions in the state. Exercise and healthy eating weren’t just low priorities—they weren’t on the list at all.
The Warning Signs Ignored
Not long after that trip, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and put on medication, which I took… inconsistently. Unsurprisingly, a short time later I was told I had congestive heart failure. My heart simply wasn’t pumping efficiently enough. By the end of the day, the line between my calves and my ankles disappeared completely.
By 2020, things had escalated. I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes and began dealing with debilitating sciatic pain. At one point, during a trip to Washington, D.C., I spent most of my time lying on the floor of my hotel room with my feet elevated just to manage the pain. That was the moment it finally hit me: small, incremental changes weren’t going to cut it. I needed real change.
The Wake Up Call I Couldn’t Unsee
Oddly enough, the COVID pandemic helped—at least structurally. CTA cancelled all in-person meetings, and my travel stopped overnight. By May, I dusted off my Peloton and started riding again. I was fairly consistent through August, but then reality set in: I couldn’t return to my old schedule and still expect to get healthy.
The truth was, I didn’t know how to do my job differently. So I changed jobs—returning to my school district as Labor Relations Director—thinking less travel would naturally lead to better habits. It didn’t. I had no plan, and my consistency reflected that.
What truly shifted everything was losing mom.
Over the last five years of her life, I watched a strong, independent woman—someone who had traveled the world—become entirely dependent on others. It was devastating for her, and heartbreaking to witness. When she passed away, I knew with complete clarity that I didn’t want my final years to look like that.
I was 61, and I genuinely felt like my days were numbered—and not by a very large number. The question I couldn’t escape was simple and terrifying: How do I want to live the rest of my life?
Why Longevity Became the Question
I retired early at 62 and finally gave myself the space to think. I started reading and watching everything I could on longevity—from Netflix documentaries on Blue Zones to reading Peter Attia’s Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity.
One message came through loud and clear: health span matters more than lifespan. Living longer means nothing if you can’t live well. I knew that if I wanted a longer and healthier life, I had to act.
Why I Chose Bicycling
To deal with my sciatic pain, I committed to three things: regular chiropractic care, twice-weekly assisted stretching, and—for a short time—acupuncture. But I also knew I needed consistent movement. That’s when I returned to something I loved back in the early 2000s and as a kid: bicycling.
I pulled my bike out of storage and fixed it up.
Why cycling? Part of it was emotional—it was something I had once loved and never stopped following as a fan. But more importantly, cycling checked a lot of longevity boxes. It’s outstanding cardiovascular exercise. It improves balance, which becomes increasingly important with age. It’s completely non-impact on the joints. Walking and jogging weren’t great options for me at my weight—they often led to knee pain and aggravated my sciatica. Cycling removed those barriers.
And beyond the logic, cycling brings me joy in a way few other activities do. It felt less like starting over and more like coming home.
What Cycling Has Already Given Me
After a year of focused work on the bike, the results have been tangible:
Weight: from the 370s to the low 320s
Sciatic pain: nearly nonexistent
FTP: from 115 watts to 144 watts
VO₂ max: from 19.1 to 24.1
I’m still not where I want to be especially in regards to weight and VO2 max. But everything is going in the right direction and you don’t undo decades of damage in a single year.
The Bigger Lesson
Ultimately, this journey isn’t about biking. The bike is simply the vehicle. What I’m really chasing is longevity—and even more importantly, quality of life. Especially in those final years, whenever they arrive. Cycling just happens to be the best tool for me.
I encourage you to think about your own longevity. What do you want to still be doing in your 60s, 70s, 80s, or 90s? What needs to happen now to make that possible later?
One final thought: start where you are. My biggest frustration returning to cycling was realizing I couldn’t ride like I did 15 years ago. Progress took longer than I wanted. If I can save you any frustration, let it be this—meet yourself honestly where you are. Maybe that’s a walk around the block. Maybe it’s playing catch with a grandchild. Maybe it’s training for a 5K.
Whatever your vehicle to longevity is, give yourself time—and grace.
Stay tuned for future posts on training, mindset, and chasing longevity.
Enjoy the ride. 🚴♂️
