Of course, you are not a professional coach. But you do have internet and probably access to a few AI bots, pretending they know everything. So, one carefully constructed prompt later, you’re the proud owner of a training plan. Now, all you have to do is ride, ride, ride… right? Not quite. AI can be of great help when creating a training plan, but it can’t account for one messy little variable—you are a human. Naturally, Chat GPT doesn’t find this sexy, so it pushes you as if you’re preparing for the inevitable rise of the machines.
Unfortunately, that’s counterproductive, much like several other overtraining mistakes MTB riders often fall prey to. So, to help you build a better, more efficient training plan, let’s talk about the common overtraining mistakes that will ruin your progress.
Hammering every ride like it’s a race
Not every ride has to be a time trial, and not every ride will bring you an Olympic gold medal in XCO. You might be training for that, although let’s be honest, if you created a training plan, you’re more likely training for your local XC race. Still, you get out with a mission in mind. Every segment must be a PR. Or at least a second best if something unexpected happens.
That’s not how it’s done. Sure, high-intensity training has its place. But when every single ride turns into a race against your previous ride, you’re bound to fail. You do remember that you created a specific training plan precisely because you reached a plateau with your performance? So, follow the plan. When it says to stay in zone 2, why on Earth are you barely breathing at VO2 max?
What you’re doing isn’t structured training. It’s just sprinting until you die… hopefully not literally. You’re supposed to have recovery rides. You know, those things where you pedal gently, enjoy the scenery, maybe even breathe through your nose? So, follow the plan and remember that the race is on a specific date. Keep your testosterone outbursts for the right time.
Focusing only on speed and endurance
Speed and endurance are not a training plan, no matter how you try to frame it. It’s simply doing the same old thing again and again, under different names and in different conditions.
“Threshold work”, “aerobic development”, “just trying to beat Jan’s KOM”—same hill, same suffering, slightly different excuses.
Sure, both are great. They are the showstoppers and the main course. But they will shave seconds or minutes at best. If you want to cut time with an axe, you need to focus on the things that actually burn minutes: technical climbs, speedy descents on loose ground, efficient gear use, and cadence.
Skills save time. Strength saves energy. Control saves your collarbones. You don’t need to train more—you need to train better. Because all the VO2 max in the world won’t help when you’re upside down in a bush wondering what the hell just happened on that rock roll.
Snuffing the fun out of riding
You do remember why you started riding a bike. It was fun. It was carefree. It was relaxing. Now, can you make the same claims? If not, you’re not training properly. The fastest way to nuke your progress is to lose interest. And you will lose interest if you snuff all the fun out of cycling and substitute it with some numbers your bike computer so generously spills. It’s a slippery slope. First, you skip the fun trail because “it’s not part of the workout”.
Then you stop riding with friends because “they mess up your intervals”. Then, one day, you’re out in perfect weather on your favourite trail, and you’re… just not enjoying it. You’re checking your stats. Obsessing over zones. Getting mad that your average speed is 0.2 km/h lower than last week. Now you’re like a German Shepherd, all discipline and boredom. And you used to be a carefree, goofy Golden Retriever, happy to splash in muddy puddles and skid just because it’s fun.
So yeah—be the Golden Retriever again. Skid a little. Take the fun trail. Blow off your intervals and chase a butterfly if it makes you laugh. The rides you’ll remember won’t be the ones where you nailed your power zones. They’ll be the ones where you high-fived a friend, ate questionable trail snacks, and cackled like an idiot in a mud puddle.
So go on, you glorious goofball—ride like it’s your first time again. Not your best. Just your favourite.
Not include rest days
God rested on the seventh day. You see where I’m going with this, right? Even the Almighty—the literal architect of the universe—took a day off. So why, in sweet baby Jesus’ name, are you refusing to rest? Are you trying to upstage God now? Is that your goal? Because let me tell you: that’s how you get eternal headwinds. That’s why the climb always feels longer, and your derailleur keeps acting possessed. It’s divine punishment for skipping your rest days.
Here’s the thing: rest isn’t weakness. Rest is where the actual gains happen. You don’t get stronger on the climbs—you get stronger when you stop climbing long enough for your body to rebuild all the stuff you just wrecked. Skipping rest days doesn’t make you hardcore. It makes you slower, crankier, and one step closer to writing a Facebook post about “why I’m taking a break from cycling for a while”.
Pushing yourself regardless of your objective condition
Remember how we said earlier that AI doesn’t understand you’re a human being? Yeah. This is where that really starts to show.
Your training plan was meticulously generated by a bot that assumes you sleep 8.3 hours a night, have zero stress, eat spinach voluntarily, and recover like Wolverine. In reality? You’re a fragile, overcaffeinated, under-rested meat sack juggling deadlines, headaches, and the occasional existential crisis.
Your plan says “Intervals”. Your body says “Migraine”. Take a wild guess who’s going to win that argument. Training plans don’t care that you pulled an all-nighter, that your kid threw up at 2 a.m. or that you drank one beer too many while solving the world’s problems with your riding buddies. But you should care. Because your body remembers—and it holds grudges. Pushing through bad days doesn’t make you a hero, no matter what some overzealous YouTubers may think. It’s reckless behaviour that pushes you a step closer to a serious injury.
So, listen to your body and take its side if it doesn’t completely agree with your training schedule.
Trying to lose weight while bettering your performance
Here’s a tip: Never, ever, ask your gym’s fitness instructor about bike training. They may know how to count calories and shout encouragement over EDM remixes, but when it comes to actual performance on the bike? Let’s just say they’d probably try to fuel an alpine climb with a protein bar and a motivational quote.
Because here’s the thing: you can’t ride on fumes. If you want to get faster, stronger, and survive that climb ahead—the one that makes goats hesitate—you’ll need more than a handful of almonds and self-loathing. You need fuel. Sugary, delicious, performance-charging fuel.
Trying to drop weight while building performance is like trying to ride a technical descent while trying to learn to play the ukulele. It’s not impossible—it’s just deeply stupid. Performance requires carbs. Recovery requires calories. And if your goal is “lose weight + get better”, then your number one priority is making sure you don’t bonk so hard you hallucinate your stem turning into a baguette. So, yeah, maybe hold off on the aesthetic goals. Eat. Train. Recover. And save the calorie cutting for when your FTP isn’t circling the drain like your will to live at the halfway mark of a 12% grade.
Riding yourself into the ground isn’t a training plan
You’re not a robot. You’re not a machine. You’re a tired, hungry, occasionally grumpy human being who just likes mud, rocks, and speeding between trees. You are not trying to be Remco or Tadej. You just want to do better on your local amateur XCO in the hobby category. So, don’t try to follow the pros’ training schedules.
Good results come with consistency and plenty of rest, not from destroying your body every time. Be smart about your training, and don’t forget to have fun.
