Rebuilding fitness after 50: Lionel’s journey from 2.0 w/kg to ultra-distance racing

Ten years ago, Lionel received the kind of phone call that alters something profoundly. His father had suffered a heart attack, and in that moment, performance metrics and training ambitions faded into the background. What followed was not just a family medical emergency, but the beginning of a gradual, deeply personal transformation.

At the time, Lionel was overweight, unfit, and struggling with even basic cardiovascular demands. Today, he trains more than 12 hours per week, has increased his FTP by nearly 100 watts, and has completed a 1,300 km ultra-distance MTB event as one of the strongest riders in the field. The change did not happen quickly, and it did not happen in a straight line, but it was built patiently through structured indoor training, consistency, and a willingness to adapt when progress felt slow.

This is his story, shared in his own words.

The trigger: a phone call no one wants

For Lionel, improved performance was never the original goal. The motivation ran much deeper, rooted in something far more sobering than watts or race times.

“A few years ago, I received a phone call that no one wants to get: ‘Dad’s had a heart attack. It’s serious.’

Beyond the obvious fear for his survival, what shocked me most was who it had happened to. My father had cycled to work for over 30 years and still went to the gym two or three times a week. He wasn’t sedentary, careless, or obviously unhealthy. Yet there he was, undergoing a twelve-hour quintuple bypass, followed by another four hours of emergency surgery due to complications.

The next morning, speaking to his cardiothoracic surgeon, I understood something that stuck with me. His underlying fitness, and his stubborn refusal to give up, had probably played a role in his survival in ways ‘medical science couldn’t fully explain’.”

That conversation stayed long after the hospital stay ended and forced Lionel to consider his own path.

The low point: unfit, overweight, and unsure where to start

The reality he confronted was uncomfortable to face, but impossible to ignore. Fitness had dropped gradually, almost unnoticed, until everyday tasks felt harder than they should have.

“At the time, I was more than a few kilograms overweight. I got a bit of heartburn. I couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs without breaking into a sweat and sending my heart rate into orbit.

After my partner pointed out, only half joking, that I was a far nicer person when I spent more time out of the house, I had to admit I’d completely neglected my own health.

The problem was: I had no idea where to start.”

The gym environment felt intimidating and impersonal, and online workout plans seemed unsustainable. Cycling, however, felt familiar enough to try again, even if it meant beginning from scratch.

Finding cycling and a necessary dose of humility

Returning to the bike offered hope, but it also presented a humbling education.

“I remembered I’d been reasonably good at cycling as a school kid. I watched the Tour de France every year. Cycling felt familiar. So I bought a mountain bike. Indexed shifting and hydraulic disc brakes were revelations. I joined a local cycling club and was promptly schooled by riders twenty years older than me.

I wasn’t just bad. I was properly bad.

I could barely keep up with the slowest group, crashed a few times, and even after riding every weekend for a year, I struggled to make it past 75 km before bonking or cramping.”

For someone naturally competitive, those early months felt discouraging rather than motivating. A weekend training camp was meant to help improve, yet it only highlighted the gap between effort and ability.

“On the final night, sitting by the fire, wondering how to sell a used mountain bike, one of the ride leaders joined me for a beer. I admitted how embarrassed I felt. He laughed gently and pointed out that comparing myself to elite riders, after twenty years behind a desk, might be a touch ambitious. Before I gave up entirely, he suggested I speak to a coach.”

That advice marked the beginning of something more structured and sustainable.

The first structure: FTP testing and indoor commitment

The introduction to coached training began with numbers, and they were not flattering.

“My first coaching session was an FTP test. A rather brutal introduction. The result? A spectacularly uninspiring 2 W/kg. Being about 20 kg overweight didn’t help.”

Still, the value of structure became apparent almost immediately. Lionel committed to five hours of training per week, with two structured weekday sessions and a longer weekend ride. Because of work demands and safety concerns, the weekday sessions had to be indoors, so he invested in a basic turbo trainer and focused on consistency.

“For three months, I followed the indoor training plan religiously: two one-hour workouts during the week and a three-to-four-hour weekend ride, structured in three-week build blocks followed by a recovery week.

When we retested my FTP, I’d gained just over 30 watts.”

The progress was measurable, even if modest, and it offered reassurance that consistency mattered. What remained challenging was the monotony of indoor riding itself.

Where indoor riding and ROUVY changed the experience

Staying consistent indoors is often less about discipline and more about engagement. For Lionel, upgrading his equipment was the first step, but finding the right platform was what made indoor training sustainable over the long term.

“The non-smart turbo trainer was mind-numbingly boring. Fortunately, I upgraded to a Wahoo KICKR Core smart trainer. Suddenly, resistance adjusted automatically, and power was measured accurately.

After some searching, I landed on the ROUVY indoor training app, and that’s where things clicked.

After about six months, my FTP was up to roughly 2.6 W/kg. I had lost weight. My average heart rate continued to drop. Outdoors, I stopped bonking and began keeping up with some of the faster groups.”

Indoor training gradually stopped feeling like a compromise and instead became the steady foundation supporting everything else. Training volume increased to seven or eight hours per week, and although progress slowed to small incremental gains, the underlying fitness continued to build.

The plateau: when the numbers appear to stall

Not every phase of training feels rewarding, and this was the period that tested patience the most.

“At the start of COVID lockdowns, I trained indoors, working with my coach remotely and using ROUVY to stay sane. My FTP had stagnated, with little change monthly. Worse, my absolute power numbers stopped improving. Any dreams I might have had of becoming a sprinter had evaporated.”

However, beneath the surface, quieter improvements were unfolding.

“My average heart rate kept dropping. Since that first FTP test, it had decreased by more than 40 BPM.

Even Garmin started telling me I was in the top 5% for training volume and activity, just not power. But I learned not to focus solely on what wasn’t improving.”

Progress did not always produce dramatic wattage increases, but it was evident in endurance, recovery, and resilience.

The breakthrough: from following to leading

When outdoor riding resumed after lockdowns, the accumulated consistency translated into something tangible.

“My outdoor riding improved dramatically. I was leading weekend groups and helping weaker riders.

That confidence pushed me into my first MTB stage race. To my surprise, I performed far better than expected, beating riders who had routinely schooled me before.

That led to a 1,300 km ultra-distance MTB event. After ten months of focused training, I finished as one of the strongest riders, recording the second-fastest time overall.”

Today, Lionel averages more than 12 hours of structured training per week, covering over 300 km and 4,500 metres of climbing. His FTP has increased by nearly 100 watts since that first 2 W/kg test, and his body composition, endurance, and confidence have changed in ways that extend far beyond a single metric.

“I’ve lost fat, gained muscle, and more importantly, I’ve learned how to adapt when progress stalls. We’re not all born Pogacars, and no amount of training will change that, especially when you are past fifty. But improvement is possible from a low base, whether you measure it in watts, heart rate, speed, confidence, or simply not suffering at the back of the group.

For me, the trigger was my father’s heart attack. Sustaining the change required finding enjoyment, support from family and friends, and the motivation to keep riding, even when key numbers appeared static.

If you suspect you’re stagnating, change something. And start today.”

What Lionel’s story shows about indoor training and long-term performance

Lionel’s journey is not a story of rapid transformation or dramatic reinvention. It is a story of gradual, sustained improvement built through structured indoor training using ROUVY measurable consistency, and the willingness to adjust expectations when progress slows.

ROUVY did not create overnight gains, nor did it replace the need for discipline. What it provided was an environment that made indoor training engaging and enjoyable enough to maintain consistency. In that consistency, real change accumulated steadily, in watts, in heart rate, in endurance, and perhaps most importantly, in confidence.

For riders wondering whether indoor training can genuinely support long-term performance, Lionel’s experience offers a sensible answer.