Posted On April 11, 2026
The Joy of Pedaling In My 70s: Why I Choose My Analog Bicycle Over High-Tech Rides.
There was a time—not all that long ago, depending on how charitable you feel about the passage of time—when a “quick ride” meant 50 miles. Twice a week. No apps, no firmware updates, no battery anxiety. Just legs, lungs, and a reasonably cooperative saddle.
Fast forward about a decade, and my wife and I now happily ride 20–25 miles at a time. The distance has changed. The joy hasn’t. In fact, in some ways, it’s gotten better.
And along the way, I’ve made a deliberate choice: I ride an analog bicycle. No motor. No boost. No quiet little voice saying, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Because, frankly, I still like having to have it.
The Honest Conversation Between You and the Bike
An analog bike is brutally honest. It doesn’t flatter you. It doesn’t compensate for that second helping of dessert or the missed ride last week. If there’s a hill, you climb it. Slowly, perhaps. Creatively, definitely. But you climb it.
That honesty is part of the appeal. At this stage of life, I’m less interested in pretending something is easy and more interested in actually doing it—whatever “it” happens to be today.
There’s a quiet satisfaction in knowing that when you reach the top of a hill, it was all you. No assist. No algorithm. Just persistence and maybe a bit of stubbornness.
Adjusting Expectations Without Lowering Standards
Embracing The Joy of Pedaling In My 70s:
Yes, the rides are shorter now. And yes, the pace is… let’s call it “thoughtful.” But the experience is richer.
When we were riding 50 miles, the goal was often the mileage itself. Now, at 20–25 miles, we notice more. The light changes. The breeze matters. A good stretch of road feels like a gift instead of just another segment to tick off.
Cycling in your 70s isn’t about chasing numbers—it’s about sustaining the habit. And an analog bike encourages exactly that. It keeps the effort real, but manageable. It reminds you that you’re still capable, even if “capable” looks a little different than it did ten years ago.
Why Not Go High-Tech?
Electric bikes are everywhere now, and for good reason. They open cycling to more people and make longer rides accessible. For many riders, they’re a fantastic option.
But for me, they remove something I still value: the direct connection between effort and movement.
When I push the pedals, the bike moves. When I stop pushing, it doesn’t. It’s a simple relationship, and I’ve grown fond of its simplicity.
Also, there’s a certain pride in knowing that if I’m moving forward, it’s because I’m making it happen—not because a battery is quietly doing the heavy lifting while I take the credit.
Riding Together Matters More Than Ever
One of the best parts of scaling back the distance is that my wife and I are perfectly matched for these rides. We’re not chasing separate goals anymore—we’re sharing the same one.
We ride at a pace where conversation is possible. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we don’t. Both are equally good.
There’s something deeply satisfying about finishing a ride together, knowing that the miles we covered were earned, not assisted, and that we enjoyed them side by side.
A Bit of Humor Helps
Of course, there are moments. Hills that seem steeper than they used to be. Winds that clearly weren’t this strong ten years ago. Saddles that have developed opinions.
And then there’s the occasional electric bike that glides past effortlessly, its rider looking suspiciously fresh.
I just remind myself: I may be slower, but I’m getting more exercise per mile. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
The Bottom Line
Choosing an analog bicycle in your 70s isn’t about resisting technology. It’s about choosing the experience you want.
For me, that experience includes:
- Feeling the work in my legs
- Earning every mile
- Riding at a pace that lets me enjoy the moment
- Sharing the ride with my wife
- Finishing tired, but satisfied
The distances may be shorter now, but the rides feel fuller. And as long as I can still turn the pedals and move forward under my own power, that’s more than enough.
Besides, 25 miles still counts. Even if it takes a little longer—and comes with better snacks at the end.