The Struggle is the Point

Your quads are on fire. Lungs feel tight. Sweat beads down your face as another switchback looms ahead. The summit isn’t even in sight yet—just an endless ribbon of trail carving upward through pines. Every fiber of your body whispers, this is too much. And yet, you keep turning the pedals. 

Most people spend their lives avoiding this feeling. They see struggle as something to escape. But in mountain biking, we choose it. We don’t ride in spite of the struggle—we ride because of it.

Choosing Hard Over Easy

Plenty of sports are about efficiency. About minimizing discomfort. About making things faster, lighter, and easier.

Mountain biking? It flips that idea on its head.

The best rides aren’t the short, smooth loops. They’re the epic ones—the 25+ mile slogs with 4,000 feet of vert that make your legs scream and your lungs question your choices. These rides are built to test you. To strip away comfort and force you to meet yourself on the trail.

Because here’s the truth: without struggle, the ride means less. Struggle gives weight. Struggle gives purpose.

The Lessons in the Grind

Every hard climb teaches something.

Patience: Progress is slow. Switchback after switchback reminds you that real growth isn’t instant—it’s earned.

Resilience: You hit walls. You flirt with quitting. And yet, something deep down pushes you to keep going. That’s where toughness is forged.

Humility: No matter how strong you feel, the trail humbles you. There’s always a bigger climb, a sharper descent, a deeper test.

Call it what you want—the burn, the sweat, the doubt—but know this: without them, there’s no breakthrough.

When the Ride Almost Breaks You

Not long ago, I took on a monster: 32 miles, 4,300 feet of elevation. A proper Front Range sufferfest. The first half felt fine—legs strong, lungs working. But by mile 20, I was empty. Every climb felt like a wall. Every pedal stroke was a fight. I thought about bailing more times than I can count.

And then something clicked. I stopped trying to escape the suffering and started owning it. Every crank of the pedals was a small win. Every switchback became a challenge accepted. When I finally rolled back to the trailhead, it wasn’t the view or the downhill that stuck with me—it was that moment on the climb where I refused to quit.

That’s why we ride. That’s why the struggle matters.

The Summit Still Matters (But It’s Not the Point)

The payoff is real. The view that takes your breath away. The wind in your face on the descent. The release of tension as gravity finally gives you a break.

But here’s the thing: none of it would matter without what came before. That moment at the top? It’s a reminder, not the reward. The real reward already happened: every turn of the pedals when your mind said stop. Every climb where you refused to quit.

Why We Ride Beyond Comfort

We could settle for easy rides. Smooth trails. Zero risk. But deep down, we know—that’s not why we ride.

Struggle transforms us. It makes us stronger. Tougher. More alive. Every brutal climb conditions more than your legs—it sharpens your mind. Each hard mile proves the same truth: you’re capable of more than you think.

And that’s the magic of this sport. It doesn’t just take you to summits. It takes you past your limits.

So, Why Do We Do It?

Because mountain biking teaches us something life rarely does: don’t avoid struggle—seek it. Lean into the burn. Embrace the doubt. Because somewhere in the grind, you’ll find something better than comfort: you’ll find yourself.

The struggle isn’t an obstacle. It’s the point.

And when you own that truth, every summit, every descent, every mile becomes something bigger. Something earned—not given.

Justin Alber | GLDN MTN.