The end of the year is traditionally a time to look back at the previous 365 days and evaluate their worth or even worse, come up with a "best of" list of some sort. I have the gift of a poor memory when it comes to my pretend bike racing—it what allows me to continue to pretend bike race—so the odds of coming up with any sort of list recapping my achievemenst of the previous year are quite slim.

What I do have to look back upon is, of course, my obsessively collected Strava data. I am unashamed to say that I enjoy logging rides. I like coming home and plugging in my Garmin to my computer and downloading the data. It satisfies the part of me that enjoys filling out crossword puzzles, typing for free on the internet or writing code (yes, I do that, but I do it slowly and only when necessary—hire someone else if you want it done quickly) that actually does what I want it to do. Logging my rides and adding onto the pile of data that is already out there gives me a momentary sense of accomplishment, and I will admit that I do occasionally go back and stare at my "mile pile" and get a warm feeling inside. I am fully aware of how pathetic that is, and I don’t care.

Looking back on this year’s data tells me that I rode my bike 306 times for approximately 483 hours totaling 8,471.4 miles. Because I cannot get speed or distance from my Lemond trainer sessions, I fudge my trainer miles by manually adding the miles myself. I take the average speed of the last outdoor ride and multiply that by the time spent on my trainer to get the estimated mileage during the trainer session. This is desperately sad also, but again I realize that. Feel free to judge me.

I post my numbers for the year not to doosh brag (although if you want to praise me, go right ahead), but to illustrate the effort it take to be an average pretend bike racer. I’ve always felt that I am right in the middle of the curve when it comes to talent and workload. If you can beat me, you are a pretty good bike racer. If I beat you, I get to take possession of all your bike equipment. That’s just the way things are, and I don’t usually enact that provision, because you are riding some terribly un-confiscate-able equipment.

My training efforts proudly stand as the benchmark of mediocrity. Many ride more, and many ride less. I ride as much as I can get away with, as I’m sure is the case with the majority of pretend bike racers. I try to evaluate my bike activities according to the joy and satisfaction that they bring—and as far as I know—Strava has yet to come up with a metric that can quantify that.