Week 1 — “The Takeoff”
I’d been thinking about this test the way you think about a flight you booked months ago, something distant at first, until suddenly it’s right in front of you.
The morning comes and, like most departures, it doesn’t feel perfect. I’m a bit underprepared, a bit off rhythm, still carrying the fatigue from a half marathon a few days ago and that slightly foggy feeling from a late night out with friends. And there’s a small part of me that wonders if this is really how I should be starting this, or if I should wait for a cleaner version of myself to show up before I begin.
But I know that version of me doesn’t really exist, at least not in any way that actually helps, and if I keep waiting for things to be perfect then I’m not really starting anything—I’m just putting off the moment where I have to deal with what’s actually in front of me.
So I start it anyway, easing into the test like a plane rolling down the runway, slow and steady at first, everything building in this controlled way that almost feels like takeoff.
As the power builds—200, then 220, then 230—I can feel that familiar momentum starting to come in. But then the effort catches up. I try to hold onto it a bit longer, push it through 250, squeeze out another minute, stay in that smoother rhythm I had just a moment ago, but it’s already slipping away. And just as quickly as it built, it falls apart.
182 watts.
Lower than before, not by a dramatic margin but enough to make it clear that this is not a continuation of where I left off, but a start of a whole new journey.
That number feels like arriving at your destination. Like stepping off the plane into a new place and realizing this is it—you’re here now. There’s no going back. Everything moves forward, whether you’re ready for it or not.
Week 2 – Familiar Ground
Once I have that starting point, my attention shifts to what comes next and what the next few weeks actually look like.
As I ride, I’m starting to shape what this training block actually looks like.
The goal is pretty simple: slowly extend my long rides each week so my body gets used to being on the bike for up to 5 hours, build up my threshold work so holding a steady effort starts to feel bearable, and keep the VO2 max sessions consistent so I’m improving without burning myself out.
At the end of each monthly block, I’ll do another FTP test as a check-in. I want it to show where I’m actually at. I’m not expecting big jumps every time, but maybe a small sign that things are moving in the right direction.
That’s the plan, but what am I even training for?
In about five months, I’ve got a 100-kilometer charity ride for MS, and a few weeks after that, the Vancouver T100 triathlon. Those are the dates on the calendar and everything I’m doing right now is about showing up ready.
Swimming and running are still part of the plan, but more in the background for now—just one swim and one run each week. That’s enough to stay balanced without taking focus away from the bike.
I find myself getting back on the bike naturally. The route helps with that too. Riding through Stanley Park again, passing the same stretches of road. Even the occasional detour feels both familiar and new at the same time, like returning to a place that hasn’t stayed exactly the same, but still recognizable.
For now, I’m honestly just excited to get back into a routine.
Having something I can come back to every day, something I can control, something I can actually do and feel finished at the end of it. Because a lot of things in life don’t really work like that. You put time in, but it’s not always clear what you’ve actually accomplished.
This is different.
I ride, I train, I log it, and I can see it. I can feel it. It gives the day some structure, like dropping a penny into a jar for every ride, every kilometer, every small effort, each one barely noticeable on its own, but slowly adding up over time.
I like the idea that by the end of this, I can look back and see how full it’s become—something I’ve slowly saved up over time, ready to be spent on whatever comes next.
Week 3 — Crossing Paths
I’ve been trying to keep this pretty solo, and I don’t mind it—it’s easier this way, and sometimes it’s nice when things are easy like that. You just go out and ride and let it be what it is. That’s a big part of why I’m doing this in the first place, those long rides where it feels like meditation, and there’s something really grounding about that.
But it’s nice to involve others in the journey too. It makes things more memorable. And as far as the training has gone so far, this weekend was a good memory.
My wife has been deep in her own marathon training, and this week she’s running a half marathon as part of that build. Petey and I went out to support her, moving between sections of the course, and then hiking the trails.
Somewhere in the middle of that day, I dropped my GoPro. I was trying to film Petey and it fell off a bench.
I need my camera. I can’t rely solely on just my memories. I am documenting this whole project. Luckily none of the functions were effected. Just cosmetic damage. And it’s probably not waterproof anymore.
The next day, I went for a ride with my buddy Racman. We caught up, rode across the Burrard Bridge, and looped around Stanley Park. I’m still early in this training block, so everything feels a bit more relaxed right now, and it’s nice being able to share parts of it like that, even if it’s just for a ride.
It reminds me a bit of a party—you might start it on your own, but once people show up, it takes on a life of its own. This training block kind of feels like that. It’s its own thing now, slowly evolving, growing. And I’m figuring it out as I go.
Most of the work is still done alone, but as long as I’m out there, I’m part of everything around me. I’m riding past people, crossing paths, sharing space, whether I want to or not. So I remind myself, even when I’m technically on my own, I’m not really separate from it all.
Week 4 — Expanding the Map
This week came with a couple small upgrades, both ordered off Amazon, which is always a bit of a gamble.
The new bike seat worked out. I went with one that has a cutout in the middle for a bit more relief on longer indoor rides, and it’s made a noticeable difference.
The electric air pump… not so much.
I tried to save a bit and I pay for it. It’s hard to unscrew, leaks air every time I use it, and honestly feels like it’s messing up my tires. This is not a product I would even give away.
Week four feels like the first real expansion of the map during this training block. Up until now, most of my rides have been loops I already know. But this week, I wanted to go somewhere new.
Richmond isn’t far, not really. But as someone from Vancouver, crossing a bridge always feels like more of a commitment than it should.
It’s not just the distance. It’s figuring out the route, dealing with bike paths that don’t always connect cleanly, the chance of detours or having to double back—and when something doesn’t go right, it costs you time and energy.
It’s funny because a lot of the time, getting around the city on a bike actually feels easier than driving. But as soon as a bridge is involved, that changes. It’s never as simple as just going straight there. So even though it’s close, once I cross, it feels like I’ve unlocked the next level and suddenly there’s more to explore.
There are still detours, missed turns, moments where I have to slow down and figure things out. But over time, they just become part of riding a new route.
And I start to notice that same pattern in other parts of the training too.
Indoor riding has been a big part of this block, and it’s a different kind of challenge. Forty-five minutes inside can feel longer than a much bigger ride outside, because there’s nowhere to go. No bridge to cross. No new routes to discover. I’ve been using MyWhoosh, and it’s good for what it is, I’ve ridden Belgium, Japan, and Arabia more times than I can count, but it’s not the same as being out there on the real roads.
Still, I’m doing a lot of it, about 3 to 4 indoor rides a week, and in a weird way it feels like its own version of leveling up. At the start of this training block, I’m at level 27. I’m interested in seeing where I end up when this is all over.
Sometimes it’s about exploring—taking a new route, trying a different way home, or riding a loop in reverse. Other times it’s just about staying on the bike a bit longer, finishing the session, logging it, and moving on. And over time, it all adds up, slowly building into something bigger than where I started.
Week 5 — Time Flies
Week five kind of crept up on me. Just suddenly realizing it’s already been a month. This weekend really brought that home. I rode out to UBC with my buddy, Racman, which felt important because that’s where I’ll be racing the Vancouver T100.
There’s that hill I’ll have to climb four times, so actually riding it now was good practice. And that’s what it’s all about. The more I do it, the more familiar I’ll be. So while exploration is important, I will soon need to prioritize riding my race routes.
Riding’s become a big part of my weekends now.
It’s the thing I look forward to all week. It’s starting to feel like a routine. My version of church, or just time to reset. And we’ve been lucky with the weather too. Still a bit cold, but no rain, which honestly is a blessing.
Part of me wishes every day of the week could feel like the weekend. Wouldn’t it be great if I didn’t have to work and I can just ride my bike for a few hours a day. The sun is starting to set later in the night now, so soon I can choose to ride after work, but I find it so exhausting just to get prepared to go for a bike ride sometimes. And when I go after work, it’s rush hour and it get so busy with commuters, pedestrian, cyclist, and cars. So, for now, putting the bulk of my rides on the weekend makes the most sense.
The only thing is, I definitely feel it after. I come home pretty spent, and I know that’s only going to get more intense as the rides get longer. Right now, my longest is about two and a half hours. Eventually that’ll be closer to five.
I’m excited for that, but I also know my body. I’ve burned out before, so I’m trying to stay aware of that. Figure out how to push without overdoing it.
And through all of it, I’m still tracking everything. Not because it’s new—I’ve always done that—but now it feels more like I’m trying to hold onto the time a bit. Because it moves fast. One week turns into five before you really notice.
Then on Sunday, I went out to Strathcona and up to Hillcrest. Different route, same idea. Just getting out there, adding another hour of practice, seeing something familiar but on a different day.
I won’t remember every indoor ride or every session, but I think I’ll remember the feeling of it building. The short rides getting longer. The number of activities on my Strava adding up. And now I’m heading into the next part.
Another FTP test. Another check-in.
Let’s see where I’m at. How will I do? Have I improved? Can I beat 182w?
For more writing ideas and original stories, please sign up for my mailing list. You won’t receive emails from me often, but when you do, they’ll only include my proudest works.
Join my YouTube community for insights on writing, the creative process, and the endurance needed to tackle big projects. Subscribe Now!
Elliot Chan 