• Country

Strava or It Didn’t Happen: The Psychology of Digital Bragging for Cyclists

By Martin Atanasov

“Strava or it never happened.” You know that, right? It is what riding a bike has come down to. And to be honest, that’s not inherently bad. Although long gone are the days when you could just go for a ride, and no one cared where you rode, how long it took, and how fast you climbed or ate that cake during the coffee stop.

Yes, Strava is not just a training tool. It’s Facebook for sports people, but especially cyclists. Indeed, our kind was obsessed with stats long before smartphones were ever invented. The only difference was that we shared our records the old-fashioned way – by bragging during coffee breaks or in social gatherings.

Today, we expect kudos to start raining as soon as our metrics are uploaded on the app. No need to create a glorifying story around your effort. No emotions, no connection. Just stats.

But why are we like that? Why do we snuff out part of the joy of being a cyclist to show off some numbers to random people?

The pursuit of validation

At its core, Strava taps into the psychological underpinnings that drive human behaviour: our need for validation, competition, and community. We are social creatures. We love to be part of a group. What we love even more, however, is getting prizes from our friends, family or strangers. This is where Strava capitalises. The platform’s digital gold star, the kudos, feels like a tiny pat on the back, a miniature “well done” from the only people you care about: other cyclists.

Some much smarter people than I found that receiving digital recognition, regardless of who gives it, releases the good stuff. I mean dopamine, of course. What did you think I was talking about? Dopamine is the chemical that makes you feel good.

Unfortunately, just like most chemical substances, the more dopamine you get, the more resistant your body becomes. So, you not only have to keep up the kudos coming but you also need to increase their volume and try receiving a comment or two. There is nothing better than receiving a “wow” comment from a complete stranger. This recognition motivates us to push harder, ride longer, and, yes, occasionally upload a suspiciously impressive manual entry when we forget to hit “record”.

Yet, the desire for validation can create a competitive undercurrent. Cyclists find themselves comparing kudos counts with their peers, quietly wondering why their perfectly executed hill repeats didn’t get as much love as Karen’s “Chill Sunday Ride with Coffee”.

A cyclist with phone
Strava is not just a training tool. © Profimedia

The KOM/QOM mentality

The King or Queen of the Mountain (KOM/QOM) system is Strava’s crown jewel. It allows cyclists to be in a race even when riding alone. Chasing a KOM satisfies our innate drive for achievement – our need to measure ourselves against others.

Social comparison theory suggests that we gauge our abilities by comparing ourselves to others. This has been carved in our psychology ever since we started kindergarten when we actually started playing games. It’s also a basic human instinct as 12,000 years ago, being better meant you would survive.

Well, thankfully, if you get dropped on a climb today, you won’t be eaten by a pack of wolves. Still, you will feel down and even depressed. Strava amplifies this by ranking cyclists on leaderboards, turning every segment into a test of fitness and grit. The leaderboard doesn’t lie: you’re either on top or chasing someone who is.

Unsurprisingly, KOM chasing can become obsessive. If you start planning your rides based on wind directions and optimal conditions, you better step it down a notch. Don’t forget that cycling is fun, and not every ride should be a pursuit.

Chasing segment wins

Segments are Strava’s genius invention, transforming mundane stretches of road into opportunities for glory. Each segment offers a measurable goal, whether it’s beating your personal best or outpacing the mysterious local rider who obviously used an e-bike. Yes, Jacke, we know you can’t climb 2.4 km at an 8% average for 2:50. This taps into goal-setting theory, which states that specific and challenging goals enhance motivation and performance. Segments provide these bite-sized challenges, pushing cyclists to test their limits in pursuit of progress.

However, segments also trigger what psychologists call “achievement addiction”. The thrill of setting a new PR or moving up the leaderboard can overshadow the broader purpose of the ride. Cyclists may skip warm-ups, burn out early or take unnecessary risks – all in the name of shaving a few seconds off a segment.

Moreover, many would simply ignore new routes only to be able to beat that one specific segment. This is not what cycling is all about.

Fear of forgetting to record

On the same note, your ride is not about being recorded. It’s OK if you forget to click start on your computer or watch. You don’t have to go back down a gruelling 15% climb so you can record your time.

More than a few riders will have a tantrum if they forget to record the first 10 minutes of their ride. It’s as if they get paid to do so. This phenomenon is tied to the concept of external validation. Strava has conditioned cyclists to equate the value of their rides with public acknowledgement. An unrecorded ride feels incomplete, like a story untold. To cope, some riders will resort to manual entries with detailed descriptions of their heroics, while others will repeat the ride just to ensure it’s properly documented. Either way, it’s a testament to how deeply Strava has integrated itself into the cycling psyche.

Still, it shouldn’t be like this. Strava should enhance your experience, not drive it. You should be able to stop and enjoy the view. You should be able to talk with your friends during the ride. You should be able to simply stop at a red light. Strava is not everything. Still, many seem to forget that.

Why it matters

Every ride can be a story, no matter if Strava is watching your every pedal stroke. However, with Strava on your side, no one can claim you exaggerated. The first time I descended with 100 kph, no one would have believed it if Strava hadn’t confirmed it. But you can have the same effect if you ride with your buddies. Yeah, they might not say, “…and then he pushed to 1,200 watts and practically beat Jonathan Milan on that sprint segment,” but they will be much more colourful in their depiction of what happened. Numbers are only numbers. They don’t convey emotions. And your emotion is always multiplied when shared with someone else.

It happened

In the end, Strava is just a platform. Sure, it’s a phenomenon reflecting both the best and the worst in human psychology. But at its core, Strava is an artificial social connection targeting cyclists (and other sports people). Though it can mimic the sense of society, it can never replace a nice ride with many friends, ending with a couple of cold ones in the park or pub.

So, go ahead, chase that KOM, upload that ride, and give your friends some well-earned kudos. Just don’t forget why you started cycling in the first place: not for the stats, but for the joy of the ride.