Humor & Insight from a Collegiate Cyclist

Five Signs You’re Overthinking Your Cadence

Cadence is one of those cycling numbers that looks wonderfully precise. A display might show 87 revolutions per minute, while your training plan recommends 95 and the rider beside you appears perfectly comfortable at 103. Suddenly, a relaxed ride becomes a rolling mathematics lesson. You start wondering whether every change in rhythm is a technical flaw, a fitness problem, or evidence that your bottom bracket has personally lost faith in you.

The useful truth is that cadence is a tool, not a moral score. It can help you manage effort, understand fatigue, and prepare for a race, but it cannot tell the whole story of a ride. Your terrain, wind, gearing, conditioning, bike fit, and purpose all matter. These signs can help you recognise when cadence awareness has crossed into unhelpful obsession, particularly on the varied roads and shared paths found across Australia.

The Number Starts Running Your Ride

A clear warning sign appears when the number on your cycling computer becomes more important than how the ride feels. You may be cruising along comfortably, then shift twice because the display has dropped from 90 to 86 rpm. The road has not changed, your breathing has not changed, and your pace has not changed. Only the number has moved.

That reaction turns a normal variation into a problem. Cadence naturally rises and falls with gradient, traffic, corners, wind, and the small decisions required to ride safely. On a busy route through inner Melbourne, for example, slowing for parked cars, tram tracks, intersections, and pedestrians will disrupt any perfectly smooth cadence target. A rider staring down at the screen to correct every fluctuation is giving up attention that belongs on the road.

A sensible cadence range can be useful, particularly during structured intervals. It should provide a broad zone rather than a command that must be obeyed at every moment. If you are producing steady power and remain balanced on the bike, a few revolutions either side of an arbitrary target are rarely meaningful.

You Change Gears Every Few Seconds

Frequent shifting is another sign that cadence has become a source of anxiety. You crest a rise, see the number dip, and immediately select an easier gear. A short downhill follows, the number rises, and you shift again. The drivetrain is busy, your hands are constantly moving, and the ride feels like an examination in mechanical reaction time.

Gears exist to help you respond to the road, not to keep your legs locked to one exact rhythm. On a Sydney route with repeated short climbs, it is perfectly normal for cadence to fall briefly as the gradient changes. If you are riding a group loop around Brisbane in humid conditions, preserving a comfortable effort may be more valuable than forcing a rapid cadence through every rise.

Excessive shifting can also make your pedalling less fluid. The most suitable gear is usually the one that lets you keep control, breathe steadily, and produce the required effort without straining. Shift before a climb when you know the road is about to tilt, but do not panic over every small change once you are already moving well.

Your Legs Feel Fine But Your Head Does Not

Overthinking often shows up mentally before it shows up physically. Your legs feel loose, your breathing is manageable, and you are enjoying the ride, yet your attention remains trapped by cadence. You keep checking the screen, comparing the current figure with yesterday’s ride, and trying to diagnose a problem that your body is not reporting.

This can turn an easy spin into a low-level stress test. Recovery rides are meant to restore freshness, but a rider who spends the entire session policing cadence may create unnecessary mental load. The same issue can affect recreational riders joining a weekend bunch in Adelaide or Perth. Instead of listening to conversation, watching the road surface, and holding a safe position, they are trying to match an imagined ideal.

A useful check is to hide cadence for part of a ride and pay attention to breathing, muscular tension, and smoothness. If you feel comfortable and your effort matches the purpose of the session, the missing number may be less important than you assumed. Data should clarify your experience, not replace it.

You Ignore Terrain, Wind, And Purpose

There is no universal cadence that suits every road or every kind of riding. A moderate rhythm on flat asphalt may feel efficient, while a lower rhythm can be entirely appropriate on a steep climb. A tailwind may encourage a faster gear, whereas a headwind can make a slightly easier gear the smarter choice. Terrain and conditions are part of the calculation.

Australian riding makes this especially obvious. A winter morning in Canberra can leave your legs stiff before the sun reaches the road, while a summer ride outside Newcastle may involve heat, wind, and exposed stretches that alter your effort. On a gravel route, loose corners and uneven surfaces may require a slower, more controlled rhythm. Treating all these situations as if they were the same indoor trainer session creates false precision.

The purpose of the ride should set the priority. A sprint session may involve deliberately high cadence. A strength-focused climb might use a lower rhythm for short periods. A social ride is primarily about staying safe, keeping the group together, and enjoying the route. Your cadence target should support that goal rather than compete with it.

You Chase Someone Else’s Ideal

Cycling advice often arrives in tidy numbers: high cadence is efficient, low cadence builds strength, 90 rpm is classic, and a particular professional rider apparently spins at a magical rate. These statements can be useful starting points, but they are poor reasons to copy another cyclist exactly. Riders differ in leg length, muscle fibre profile, flexibility, experience, bike position, power, and personal preference.

Professional racing also distorts expectations. A WorldTour rider has years of conditioning, a carefully fitted bike, race-specific equipment, and a highly controlled training environment. Watching a climber float up a mountain at 100 rpm does not mean every amateur should mimic that rhythm on a local rise after a full day of work. The same applies when a powerful sprinter appears comfortable grinding a large gear.

The local bike market can reinforce this comparison. Australian shops and online retailers offer compact cranksets, wide-range cassettes, smart trainers, power meters, and computers with increasingly detailed metrics. The equipment is useful, but it can encourage riders to believe that a new component or a more exact number will solve a problem that is really about pacing or confidence.

Your Data Has Become The Workout

Cadence is most helpful when it is connected to another meaningful measure, such as power, heart rate, speed, perceived exertion, or time. Trouble begins when cadence becomes the workout by itself. You finish a ride proud that you averaged 94 rpm, even though the session had no clear purpose, or disappointed by 82 rpm despite completing the planned effort strongly.

An average cadence can be particularly misleading. It blends climbs, descents, coasting, traffic interruptions, corners, and different levels of effort into one figure. Two rides with the same average may feel completely different. A low average could reflect a hilly route rather than poor technique; a high average could come from frequent soft-pedalling rather than better performance.

The same caution applies to indoor training. Smart trainers make it easy to hold a cadence target in a stable environment, but outdoor riding is not a laboratory. If a screen encourages you to pedal awkwardly, bounce in the saddle, or ignore rising fatigue, the metric has stopped serving you. Training data should help answer a question, such as whether you can hold a steady effort, rather than generate endless questions of its own.

Your Body Keeps Giving You The Same Message

The strongest evidence that you are overthinking cadence is often physical. You may be lifting your knees unnaturally, gripping the bars tightly, rocking your hips, or forcing a rapid spin that makes your feet feel disconnected from the pedals. In an attempt to achieve an ideal number, you have lost the smoothness that cadence was supposed to describe.

A comfortable pedalling rhythm usually has a quiet upper body and a consistent sense of pressure through the stroke. That does not mean every revolution will look identical. Fatigue, hills, headwinds, and changes in speed will alter the feeling. Persistent knee pain, numbness, unusual hip tension, or back discomfort should not be dismissed as a cadence issue, however. Those symptoms may relate to bike fit, cleat position, saddle height, training load, or another problem requiring qualified assessment.

It is also worth remembering that Australian road rules and riding environments place demands on more than your pedal stroke. You may need to brake for a vehicle turning across your path, give way at an intersection, or slow on a shared path. E-bike riders also need to follow applicable state and territory rules, including the common 25 km/h motor-assistance limit for compliant pedal-assist bicycles. Safe control matters more than preserving a cadence figure through every interruption.

Practical Ways To Make Cadence Useful Again

The goal is not to ignore cadence completely. It is to put the metric back in its proper place and create enough flexibility for your body to find a natural rhythm. A short experiment can reveal whether your preferred range is genuinely comfortable or simply inherited from a training article, a club mate, or a professional race broadcast.

Try these adjustments across several rides rather than judging yourself from one session:

A simple outdoor test is to ride a familiar stretch at three comfortable rhythms: slightly slower, natural, and slightly faster. Keep the effort similar and notice which version produces the least tension. Repeat the test on a flat road and a gentle climb. This gives you personal information that is more relevant than copying a generic target.

Group riding can provide another useful reference. A platform such as LetsRide.co can help you find local rides and cycling events, allowing you to experience different paces and terrain without turning every session into a solo data audit. A well-run bunch will teach you how to respond to changes in speed, gaps, corners, and hills—skills that a cadence display cannot teach on its own.

Cadence is valuable when it helps you pedal smoothly, manage effort, and understand your training. It becomes counterproductive when every fluctuation feels like failure. Let the number inform your decisions, then return your attention to the road, your breathing, and the reason you went riding in the first place.

Put these signs to work on your next ride: hide the display for ten minutes, choose a comfortable gear, and notice how your body responds. Then find a local group through LetsRide.co, share the road safely, and let your cadence settle into the ride rather than trying to force the ride around it.