Health

There is quite a bit to get used to when you first take a road bike into traffic. Looking behind without drifting, knowing where to wait at a junction and leaving room beside parked cars all take practice. Good bike safety habits give you more time to react and help other road users understand where you are going. Here are ten practical bike safety tips, along with advice on riding in traffic, choosing useful safety gear and preparing for mountain roads.

You're a few hours into a long ride or trainer session when you start to notice something you'd rather not. Things have gone numb 'down there'. Maybe you stand on the pedals a bit, shift around and the feeling starts to come back. But if it keeps happening, you might be dealing with cyclist syndrome.

You've felt it before, haven't you? You had a bad week, a rough day at work and you really didn't feel like going on that ride. But afterwards, you were so glad you did. Your head is quieter, your soul is at peace and you feel better than you have in days.

Heading into the mountains on your road bike? From preparing for long climbs to managing fast descents and changing weather, these safety tips will help you make smart decisions on the road.

I thought running would make me fitter. So I laced up my sneaks, hopped on the treadmill, and took off. This should be easy – I'm a cyclist in good shape, right? Wrong. My heart rate soared, I was more winded than I've ever been in my life, and the shin splints had me hobbling for days.

“How do I get thighs like that?” I asked my cycling friend, referring to a woman on Instagram with amazingly thick, sculpted thighs. Her answer both amused and disappointed me: “Heavier squats,” she laughed. “Much heavier squats.” I was hoping she would say just keep cycling.

Cycling isn't supposed to hurt. Yet for many riders, discomfort creeps in sooner or later. Maybe it's a nagging knee on climbs, tingling fingers halfway through a ride, or a sore back that lingers long after you've unclipped. Sometimes it builds quietly over weeks. Other times, it happens all at once in a split-second crash.

We lined up on the rail, ready to leave it all on the track in a team sprint race. The whistle blew, and we dove down the track, wheel to wheel, cadences high and our determination even higher. We gave it everything we had – until our lungs burned and our legs gave out into wobbly, noodly messes. Yet the final sprint was photo-finish close.

“You just didn’t drink enough,” he said, as he handed me a bottle of Gatorade and an ice pack for my throbbing head. And he was right. I was so taken by the thrill of the ride and the glorious country views that I forgot to sip regularly. Dehydration got the best of me.