Dropped, Not Defeated
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Dropped, Not Defeated
I remember a ride where I got dropped so clearly, it still sticks with me.
It was a big, organized event. The annual Strawberry Festival Ride. One of those days where your regular group shows up together and takes on something bigger than your usual ride with hundreds of other riders.
It was a very windy spring day.
The kind where the wind isn’t just there—it’s a factor in every decision you make.
I rode with my group like I normally would. Paying attention. Taking my (short) turns on the front. Managing my effort. For the first 25 miles or so, everything felt right. That was about our normal ride distance, and I was right where I belonged.
But this ride wasn’t 25 miles.
It was more than double that.
And eventually, that started to matter.
We had been fighting a crosswind for what felt like forever. Holding position. Echeloned across country roads. Working harder than it looked. And then we made a right turn.
Straight into the wind.
The group didn’t hesitate.
They just kept going.
And I didn’t.
It wasn’t dramatic. No explosion. No big moment.
I was just… done.
I watched as they rode away.
And I remember feeling a mix of things all at once.
I was a little disappointed that I couldn’t keep up.
A deep respect for the riders I had just been with.
And a quiet realization that I wanted to be able to ride like that someday.
Most of them were my parents’ age or older, and I watched in awe as they made it look effortless and controlled.
The Ride After
The rest of the ride wasn’t inspiring.
It was exhausting.
Physically and mentally.
I settled into a hard, steady rhythm—something I thought I could hold all the way to the finish. It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t smooth. And it definitely wasn’t pretty. It was just sustainable enough to keep going.
And I did.
Slowly, I started catching and passing riders. Individuals. Small groups. Not fast, not aggressively—but steadily.
And I’ll admit, that mattered.
It gave me something to hold onto. A small sense of validation that I was still moving forward, even if I wasn’t with that group anymore.
At the time, I thought maybe I had made a mistake.
Maybe I was positioned wrong in the wind.
Maybe I missed something tactically.
Maybe I just didn’t read the moment well enough.
And sure—those things can matter.
But looking back now, I see it clearly.
I just didn’t have the conditioning to ride at that effort for that distance.
That’s it.
No mystery.
No failure.
Just reality.
What Getting Dropped Actually Means
There’s a moment when you get dropped where it’s easy to make it mean something bigger than it is.
That you don’t belong.
That you’re not strong enough.
That you’re not cut out for that kind of ride.
But most of the time, that’s not true.
Most of the time, it’s much simpler.
You’re just not there yet.
And that’s very different from not belonging.
Because if you misunderstand the moment, you’ll respond to it the wrong way.
The Biggest Mistake
The biggest mistake I see riders make after getting dropped is letting it keep them from coming back.
They avoid the group.
They step away from the challenge.
They decide it’s not for them.
But that moment—the one where the group rides away—isn’t the end of anything.
It’s the beginning of understanding what it takes to get there.
What I’d Say Now
If someone came up to me after a ride like that and said,
“I don’t think I’m cut out for that group,”
I wouldn’t try to convince them they’re wrong.
I’d ask them a different question.
What’s your goal?
If their goal is to become a stronger, faster, better rider—then that group is exactly where they need to be.
Because one of the best pieces of advice I was ever given is this:
The best way to become a faster, better rider is to ride with faster, better riders.
It won’t happen overnight.
It won’t feel good every time.
But if you keep showing up, you will get better.
You will adapt.
You will last longer.
You will eventually stop watching them ride away.
If, however, your goal is something different—more social, more relaxed—then maybe that group isn’t the right fit right now.
And that’s okay too.
The Real Win
Getting dropped doesn’t mean you failed.
It means you found the edge of where you are right now.
And that’s a valuable place to be.
Because now you know what’s required.
Now you have something to work toward.
Now the path forward is clearer than it was before.
Getting dropped is part of the process.
Not the end of it.