CYCLING

My Bike Is Everything to Me

Bill Walton got it. The Hall of Famer, the Deadhead, the commentator who made every broadcast feel like a cosmic ride, understood what so many of us who live on two wheels know deep in our bones: a bicycle is more than just a mode of transportation. It’s freedom. It’s movement when nothing else moves. It’s life itself.

Walton, who passed away at 71, lived most of his years in pain. Basketball was both his blessing and his curse, bringing him fame and championships but also leaving his body broken. He couldn’t walk for pleasure, but he could ride his bike. And that meant everything to him.

“My bike is my gym, my church, and my wheelchair. My bike is everything that I believe in going on in the Biosphere … My bike is the most important and valuable thing that I have.”

That’s not just a love for cycling, it’s reverence. It’s understanding that the bicycle is one of humanity’s greatest inventions, a simple yet profound tool that allows us to go farther, faster, and freer than we ever could on foot. It’s the closest thing to flying without leaving the ground.

The Machine That Defies Time

I had the privilege of working with Bill Walton while he was supporting the Challenged Athletes Foundation, an organization that helps adaptive athletes push past physical limitations and achieve incredible things. Walton’s passion for cycling wasn’t just personal, it was part of his larger-than-life generosity. He saw the bike as a tool for empowerment, for movement when movement seemed impossible.

As someone who has competed in multiple Ironman triathlons, I truly understand that passion. I don’t just ride, I love cycling. The long hours in the saddle, the rhythm of the road, the meditative solitude of a solo ride, and the camaraderie of a peloton all make the sport a central part of my life. My bike is my freedom, my challenge, my connection to the world around me.

There’s a reason we cling to the feeling of riding. It’s not just about efficiency, though the numbers are astounding. A person on a bike can travel three to four times faster than a pedestrian while using five times less energy. But more than that, it’s about a feeling. That childlike joy, the wind in your face, the effortless glide down an open road.

Somewhere along the way, many of us lose that feeling. Life gets complicated. Responsibilities pile up. The joy of riding turns into something utilitarian, a way to get from point A to point B, or worse, a chore wrapped up in fitness goals and performance metrics.

But Walton never lost it. He saw the bicycle for what it truly is: a gateway to joy, a way to stay connected to the world, even when the body fails.

Why My Bike Is Everything

I get it. My bike is my escape, my meditation, my daily rebellion against a world that moves too fast and thinks too little. When I ride, I am in control. I set the pace. I decide where the road takes me.

For some, a bike is just a thing, a frame, two wheels, some gears. But for those of us who understand, a bike is everything. It’s independence. It’s health. It’s adventure. It’s a reminder that even when life throws obstacles in our path, we can still pedal forward.

Walton rode his bike because it was the one thing his body still allowed him to do. But I like to think he rode it because, in those moments, he was free, just a guy, on two wheels, moving forward under his own power.

That’s what a bike gives you. That’s why it matters.

Tailwinds and Smooth Asphalt Forever

Bill Walton may be gone, but his spirit rides on. If you’ve got a bike, take it out today. Ride for the sheer joy of it. Ride like you did when you were a kid, when the world was big, and the possibilities endless.

Because they still are.

Because your bike is everything.

Enjoy the ride!