I went on my first group ride, and it's changed how I feel about cycling

As a Cycling Weekly writer, it might surprise you to hear that I had – until yesterday –never been on a group ride. I’m an A to B kind of girl. I love the satisfaction of a long ride followed by a camping trip, or a long lunch with friends. For that reason, I tend to ride solo. But, emboldened by the opportunity to go on a lunchtime ride with my colleagues, I took the plunge, and realised that the whole business of group riding is more complicated than I could ever have imagined.

The group ride started long before we mounted our bikes outside the Cycling Weekly office. I changed out of my clothes and into some cycling shorts, a baggy top and a jumper, only to find my colleagues transformed into streamlined cycling creatures, cleats clipping, heart monitors ticking.

Undeterred (slightly deterred) I followed the guys as we trickled out of the office and onto the road. Fellow writers Tom and Adam hung back as I adjusted to the blinding speeds we were clocking up (relative to the constant conversational speed I usually measure my rides by), while Jamie (the face of Cycling Weekly’s video content) and Aaron, our newest tech writer, and semi-pro rider, led out ahead. Eek.

Meg Elliot

From the Welsh-English borderlands, Meg's first taste of cycling was downhill - she's now learning to love the up, and swapping her full-sus for gravel (for the most part!). She is slowly embarking on a road riding journey.

I found a happy middle ground between Adam and Tom, Jamie and Aaron, listening to what trickle of conversation wasn’t whisked away by the wind and roaring cars. Happily eavesdropping, I could concentrate on keeping my speed up, as I pushed full-pelt on the pedals, heart racing.

Adam had, throughout the ride, been hanging his arm off the handlebars at intervals throughout the ride, hand waving slightly to his left. I thought it was a subtle way of showing off his gorgeous blue nails, but it turned out to be a warning – watch out for potholes. The message rippled through our small peloton to the rider at the back. This was good news for me, as I continued to operate on half a brain cell as my body fought to keep up with the group.

At 8 kilometres in, I cursed my lack of pockets - without a phone, I had no way to navigate back to the office alone. I was exhausted, and I wanted out. Then came the first downhill, and against all odds, I found my stride.

My breakthrough was aided absolutely by Adam and Tom, who dropped back to keep me company every so often, pointing out a cloud of crows taking flight from the orange field to our left, or to stare lovingly at the hill ahead (someone explain to me this love of hill climbing?), peeling my eyes from the constant drum of the road and into the day.

One horrendous (but fortunately, brief) hill later, and we were back in Reading’s winding roundabouts, on the homeward straight and heading for a delicious lunchtime spread courtesy of our magazine editor, Simon.

It took a while for my body to readjust back to office-pace after our ride, but the gentle endorphin release after an hour of max-capacity riding carried me through the rest of the day. I’m someone who struggles to push past “monkey brain” - that voice in your head saying, chill! Take a break! But riding with Adam and Tom, Aaron and Jamie forced me to push myself, and realise just how capable I am.

It would certainly have been a totally different story had I been riding with people intent on riding fast – I’ve been there before, and it’s horrendous, and indescribably off-putting. But I was made to feel welcome, and celebrated, and capable. I’m now set on finding a riding group local to me, and embracing the art of riding for the sake of it - as long as there's a coffee stop along the way.