Learning to let it be

Molly Weaver describes how she is regaining her love of cycling following a devastating accident and subsequent mental health issues

Ifirst stepped on a bike at the age of 16, and for the next eight years it became the guiding force in my life. Aside from the usual ups and downs of elite sport, I had a seamless journey through the ranks. I spent a few years in the British peloton, progressing through junior racing and on to the elite scene before scoring my first UCI contract and heading to Europe permanently. Going into my third year on Team Sunweb, I was stronger than ever and so was the team. It was shaping up to be an amazing season, but then last year I was involved in a crash. Everything changed in an instant.

The force of the car hitting me broke my back in five places. It also broke my neck, sternum, shoulder and four ribs. My kidney was torn and I suffered a concussion. Although lifechanging, these injuries were observable, measurable and would soon begin healing; the mental scars would take longer to show themselves.

Initially I felt euphoric at still being alive. The thought of losing everything I’d worked for was alleviated by the simple fact my fitness had saved my life. The sense of pure joy felt like it would last for ever. But being told “you’re so lucky” helped for only so long. Over the remainder of the 2017 season, I had physical challenges to distract me: physio, rehab and training took all my energy. My total focus on a return to racing meant I never fully acknowledged the struggles I was having with my deteriorating mental health. Then the season ended, training began for a new season, and I had nothing but time to be completely overwhelmed by hitherto suppressed emotion.

I could feel a festering depression chipping away at my ability to cope with the downs, whereas once I would take bumps in the road in my stride. All the while I continued to tell the narrative people wanted to hear, and the one I wanted to be my reality. At the start of 2018, it became clear I had to make a choice while I still had one: step away from the pressures of professional cycling and focus on rebuilding my mental health, or risk staying and hope it didn’t destroy me completely. This was a life I’d worked so hard to build, but with the luxury of choice came the responsibility to make the right one.

I decided to take a break, and a few months later I announced my career hiatus — along with all the details of a mental health struggle I’d been conditioned to keep to myself. This was something I never thought would happen to me. It came as a surprise to a lot of people, but I hoped it would start a much-needed dialogue. It turned out the truth really did set me free.

I honestly thought I would never get back in the saddle, but that very same day I got my bike out and fell in love all over again. It was years since I’d ridden just for the joy of it with no target, no training plan, no self-analysis. I spent the next month just riding: no computers, no power meters, no destination in mind. I would explore roads in Catalonia that I’d never ridden before. It didn’t matter where they led.

The purpose of cycling changed for me the moment I made the decision to step away from racing professionally. And I needed to adjust accordingly. After years of the same routines and the same feelings associated with riding a bike, it’s hard to switch that off. Relaxing becomes a challenge.

Not caring about your form is no longer a natural state. Suddenly I was free, and I needed to embrace that freedom.

Riding my bike had become my therapy and quickly started to heal the mental wounds. Pretty soon after, I also started to miss training and racing. Although I wasn’t sure I would ever want to be a professional cyclist again, now I’m reminded now of all the reasons I loved it. I want to be back in the peloton some day, but for now it’s all about trying new things and pursuing challenges away from the road I’d always taken. I’ve hit the reset button and I’m learning from my mistakes.

If any good can come of this, I know I need to step away, to grow as a person and as an athlete, and then go back refreshed and improved. To that end, I’ve decided on a new project: cyclo-cross. It’s something I’ve wanted to try since I first starting cycling, so with new beginnings comes the perfect chance. I’m 24 now, and this is about rediscovering the passion and nourishing the happiness cycling can bring me. Riding a bike can be an incredible way to remedy mental health struggles — if we learn to let it be, rather than making it pressured or complicated. It feels good to be back enjoying the ride.