TriVeggies

There are many benefits to being an only child, a chief among them being that throughout my life, I’ve had no trouble playing quietly by myself. Growing up, I was my chief playmate, the solitary sibling, and as a result I’ve always been quite comfortable in solitude. Don’t get me wrong: That doesn’t mean I’m shy, quiet, or even much of an introvert. I love hanging out with friends, meeting new people, spending time in groups both large and small. But at the end of the day, being alone doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t unnerve me. And when it comes to triathlon and running, I’ve spent much of my training time working out alone. Not for any reason, really; it just worked out that way.

But now I’ve found my tribe.

I first learned about the bike club (hereafter known as CBG) a couple of years ago, when I saw a group of costume-festooned cyclists ride down my street on Halloween, bikes decorated with hundreds (thousands?) of festive lights. I did some digging and found the group I thought might have been responsible for such a wonderful display, but it was near the end of the outdoor season and by spring, I’d forgotten all about it. This happened for two years running. But this spring I didn’t forget. This spring I signed up for a ride.

I knew immediately I was in the right place when another cyclist came up to me at the meeting spot, where I was standing alone, having arrived 20 minutes early to ensure I had enough time. He introduced himself, started chatting with me, and immediately there was just this ease, this feeling of camaraderie. Slowly, other riders began trickling in, each one coming over to say hello as we all shook off the rust of a long winter indoors, eager to see what we still had in the tank on the trails.

Ninety minutes later, when the ride was over and done with and a group of us were hanging out at dinner, chatting over salads and burgers and fried green tomatoes and, of course, beers, it felt like we’d known each other forever. Of course, much of the group has indeed known each other for years, but though I was a newbie, there was none of that “on the outs” vibe, that small-town, working-yourself-in feeling that so often permeates groups. Sitting there with a beverage hoisted in my right hand, it felt like I’d been there forever.

“I’ve found my tribe!” I exclaimed to my husband (we’ll call him LeeLee for now) when I got home later that night, giddy with the thrill of it all. “The group was wonderful! I had a blast!”

And so began my time in the club, a time which, several months in, still fills me with joy and excitement every time we convene for a ride (or a picnic, or a meal). And the benefits have been surprising.

Far and away, the friendships I’ve developed are better than any other benefits of the group rides. I cannot stress enough: They are, by far, the best part of the whole thing. There’s just nothing better than taking off together on a new (or familiar) route, keeping an eye on each other, chatting when we can safely ride two by two, shaking our heads at unruly pedestrians, chuckling at each other’s jokes, saying “Uh huh” to each other when really we can’t hear anything over the wind in our ears. There’s a wonderful beauty in discovering new sights together, crossing the Mason-Dixon Line together on a beautiful crushed-gravel trail (even though we missed said line on the way out to the turnaround), inspecting one another’s bee stings (or caterpillar bites) and then embellishing the stories over a meal afterward.

Additionally, something strange happened upon my involvement in the group: I’ve gotten faster. By golly, I’ve sped UP! The only thing I’ve done differently this season is riding with other people, riders who are often comfortably a mile or two per hour faster than me. That’s just an attainable enough goal to reach for. It’s achievable, but challenging. Just what the doctor ordered. And it’s a sure example of rising to the level of the company you keep.

There’s a certain safety-in-numbers aspect to group rides, as well; no matter where you are on the route, you know you’ve got people ahead of and behind you that can help be your eyes and ears (and you can do the same for them). There’s quite a bit of unexpected relief in that after having ridden solo for nearly 20 years!

But in the end, it all comes back to the people, to the friendships, to the support and the laughs and the comfort in knowing that there’s a group out there that fits you like a glove. Nearly two decades into my triathlon-training journey, what a wonderful surprise to find this group of new friends hiding in plain sight.

Go find your tribe, y’all. You won’t regret it. The journey is sweeter with friends!