Words and images by Stephen Shelesky
Equal parts joy, escapism, and self-therapy, I’ve found a lot of reasons to gravitate towards ultra-cycling. Since entering the sport less than two years ago, riding ultra has led me through one of my largest life transitions to date and increased my self confidence tenfold.
Ultra takes many forms, bikepacking races being one of them. One of the pinnacle events, the Silk Road Mountain Race (SRMR) is as intimidating as it is alluring; a daunting route of over 1,100 miles with 100,000’ of elevation gain, but as reward it promises an immersion in Kyrgyzstan’s most stunning natural landscapes. This year’s route took us from Karakol to Cholpon Ata, winding through and beyond the Tian Shan range.
The experience was more powerful than I could have ever imagined; the challenge even larger, but not insurmountable. In there lies the beauty of overcoming and resilience. I got to meet every version of myself until I reached just a brittle shell. I smiled, I screamed, I cried, I completely wept, I thought about quitting, I felt on top of the world, and I ~of course~ got food poisoning too. But it was all so beautiful, magnificent really, and it transcended all expectations.
Within all of the times I questioned my belonging at the start line of the SRMR, I also gained personal clarity through a deeper understanding of the life events that led me there. I spent a majority of my life as a closeted gay man, coming out at age 26, unleashing feelings of relief but also further confusion.
I think that coming out is often falsely perceived as the finish line; this magic step towards total contentment. But my lived reality has been different and since coming out, every piece of my identity has been deconstructed and scrutinized. Which parts are real? Which parts were there to protect me? Which parts were to conform with societal heteronormative standards? It’s a lot to think about and it’s equivocally scary and exciting, but most importantly it’s an opportunity for growth into a new identity if nurtured properly.
For me, ultra is exactly that. It’s become the bridge between my most inauthentic self and my new, true self. It counters feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness by showing me I’m capable, strong, and resilient when confronted with adversity. It brings me joy, awe, and wonder; a showcase of the most powerful core human emotions. It also gives me belonging and community, but an all-new one where I can show up fully as I am.
Most importantly, it’s an interest where my decision to participate is all mine: influenced by no one, no expectation, and not as a measure to self-protect. The spirit of the SRMR embodies what I was looking for so perfectly: a grand adventure that lends plenty of time to introspect. During those 12 days I felt the constricts loosen their grip. Ultra is freedom.
