Name: Serena Thomas
Age: 42
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York City
Occupation: Therapist, Cultural Anthropologist
Time Cycling: 2.5 years
Reason for Cycling: To be a seeker of beauty, speed, the unknown, mountains, and endless sky.
I’ve always had this fiery, wild little girl hiding inside of me. The summer of 2020 was the height of the pandemic and the streets of New York City were empty. I was going crazy. I started riding solo, and then later with some crews on my cruiser bike. Very quickly, I craved more. Soon, I heard of this thing called a century. I liked the name, so I thought, “Let me try one.”
I remember the day of my first century so well. It was September 2020 and I was riding the Escape New York route. I woke up at 4 a.m. and was terrified. I was wearing sweatpants, sneakers, had a heavy metal water bottle, and a big black backpack, but I was ready.
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The ride started, and at mile 15, the group disappeared into the distance. I walked up all the hills alone, crying. I accidentally hit and killed a chipmunk. I also rode in only the big ring because I didn’t know how to shift into the small ring. This 10 mph, 100-mile ride took me 16 hours, but the fire was lit and the wild little girl had awoken.
I have since found several cycling crews of color in New York City (Major Taylor Iron Riders, Kings/Queens Rule Together, Century Plus Crew) and have ridden hard in rain, snow, sun, and almost every day. In the summer, 100 mile rides have become a weekly thing. And I’ve enjoyed journeys to cycle through Philadelphia, Montauk, Poughkeepsie, and other places. Wherever we could dream, we went. I think we all desired to feel alive at a time when death was all around us. The cycling crews I found had become family.
Cycling has become my moving therapy. Sometimes, I am upset and I have no words. And all I need is to go flying through the park like a mad woman, and an hour later I’ve emptied myself out, and I’m brand new.
Sadly, my grandma died on my birthday this past August. I was riding with friends when I got the call to say goodbye. They stopped for me so I could sit on a bench by the water to say goodbye. I cried, and they waited for me and hugged me. They let me sit silently. And then we rode again, slowly, over a bridge and water, and we kept riding. I lost and gained family that day. As a therapist, I know that tears, talking, and catharsis heals. And anyone who rides a bike knows that cycling heals, too.
I’m currently trying to ride five to six times a week. I want to see where my body takes me this year. I’m hungry.
This year, I’ve decided to face my enormous fears and race my bike. I’m aiming to head to Central Park races, Mallorca 312, Race Across France, L’Etape du Tour de France, Gran Fondo New York, and Tour of the Catskills. I also have plans for a few overseas bike getaways to Guadeloupe, Puerto Rico, and Nigeria.
My proudest moment to date was a 717-mile riding week in October 2021. With my team, we rode San Francisco to Los Angeles over five days and hit 500 miles. Then, I was back to New York City for a Brooklyn to Montauk double century.
Riding in Jamaica and Cuba last year was also extremely special. Riding there felt like the Tour de France, but in Patois and Spanish. Everyone was excitedly cheering for the riders. In Cuba, “Cuidado, mi amor!” and “Go! Go! Go! Go!” In Jamaica, I remember seeing a little boy run from his porch, pointing at me, yelling “It’s a girl. It’s a girl.” All I could do was giggle and wave.
Cycling has become a definite obsession, but sometimes when things feel right, it’s just because they are right. And cycling brings me peace.
I’ll never forget when a stranger in a bike shop said to me, “You can’t climb with thighs like that.” I thought “Did he just say that? Impossible.” Fantasies of violence shot through me, but I just stared through this man. Silent.
My thighs are thick. This is true. My long thick dreadlocks are also not aero, but all of this is me, and I love it. Instead of letting his words sit inside my heart, I just thought of him all summer long as I climbed in the French Alps (Col du Galibier, Col de Croix de la Fer, Alpe D’Huez), Mallorca, Spain (Sa Calobra), and upstate New York at Devil’s Kitchen, and while doing hill repeats.
Sadly, I am used to such bold comments and eyes that travel along my body, studying it, and trying to understand why my dreams are so big.
I remember Gran Fondo of New York in 2022, a 103-mile, 8,600-elevation ride. At 5 a.m., I was on the George Washington Bridge with 3,000-plus other green jersey-wearing riders.
We waited, froze, and ate sandwiches we had made the night before. Then, 7 a.m., we were off! My heart was in my ears. The 3,000 people from all over the world and thick fog transformed my normal New York City roads into something strange and beautiful: A Colombian, Italian, and French playground and race track.
By mile 97, I had taken a single 34-second break to fill my water bottle, and I was holding a good pace. I passed some guy whose eyes swept over my body. He yelled, “Let’s see you try to keep that same energy on the next hill.” Normally, I choose silence when men speak to me in this way, but I surprised myself and yelled back, “Watch me!” His patronizing gift was exactly what I needed to push through those last six miles.
I’m 42 and it’s just the beginning of my cycling journey. But I’m hungry. I am supposed to be married with kids by now. However, I am out here riding my bike and smiling.
Living in New York City means you can hop on a plane for under $300 and in three hours be on some island with your bike. Let’s see where my wheels take me.
These three tips have made my cycling journey a success:
1. Talk to yourself
I do—regularly! For example, I struggle with descents (which is an interesting fear when in the Alps) and I talk to myself the whole way down. I say: “You got this, Serena. Breathe. Hold your line.” Try to use your own voice to push you through the “give up moments.” Ground yourself and remind yourself of the things that light your fire.
2. Find your motivation
We all have a different “why” we ride. Take the time to find and know what yours is. And remember, others don’t need to understand your why. It’s yours! Ride your ride. Find your joy.
3. Do things that scare you
Every year, I commit to several rides that terrify me. The terror pushes me out of my bed on those cold winter days. One of those events for me this year is the Race Across France, which involves 621 miles and 75,000 feet climbing over five days.
Serena's Must-Have Gear
→ Cafe du Cycliste, Petra Women’s Cycling Jacket: This windproof, water repellent jacket is everything. It’s my favorite and the most used item I own. It is perfect for early morning rides, windy days, or mountain descents. It folds up into a super small square for your back jersey pocket. It’s also super cute.
→ Kings/Queens Rule Together, Long Sleeve Jersey: I swear this jersey makes me faster. But, really though, this beautiful, race-cut jersey is thin, sleek, and comes short- and long- sleeved. It’s also produced by an incredible Black-owned cycling club and apparel brand.
→ NoxGear 39G Wearable Bluetooth Speaker: This small speaker fits in your back jersey pocket and is perfect for that mile 80 of your century ride when your tank is empty, or that extra boost you need after lunch, or for that crazy 20-mile climb ahead. This speaker is the only reason I got up Alpe d’Huez. For real.
→ Merino Headband: It’s always the ears in winter! This thin band is game changing for protecting your neck and ears.
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Emily Shiffer is a freelance health and wellness writer living in Pennsylvania.
