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The 5 Rules of The Post-Christmas Ride

By Martin Atanasov

Since you gained about 20,000 calories over the three days of Christmas, you may fancy a quick ride to remind your body that there are other things besides sitting in front of the table or the TV. Now, this post-Christmas ride is a bit tricky, considering the coordinated, multi-day gluttony campaign that was masked as celebrating the birthday of Jesus. I’m sure He was all about overeating and slothing, but still, just as He entered Jerusalem on a donkey, you may exit this aggressive biblical feast with the donkey’s 21st-century equivalent, namely your bike.

So, after Boxing Day, it’s time to go out for a spin. This year, mercifully, the 27th lands on a Saturday, which makes it perfect. Enough distance from Christmas to justify moving again, close enough to still smell like leftovers. That’s when the post-Christmas ride happens. Not as a training session, not as redemption, but as a collective agreement that it’s time to roll out, see familiar faces, and pretend we’re easing back into normal life before New Year’s Eve slaps us back to the table.

Still, let’s not forget that we’ve been overeating for the past few weeks, thanks to office parties, Christmas markets, and everywhere else where Mariah Carey poisoned our ears. So, there are a few things to consider when organizing and executing your post-Christmas ride.

1. Make it social

Christmas is a social event. You eat with family, drink with friends, and sit around tables long enough for the sofa cushions to immortalize your magnificent behind. So when it comes to the post-Christmas ride, keep the flame of togetherness burning and make this one a social affair.

Forget about burning everything you ate. You can’t. You’d have to start Everesting at dawn and finish somewhere around the New Year. Instead, invite a few mates for a nice, easy ride where you can talk, laugh, and pretend this is your regular group outing. Show up with a Santa beard, a Christmas hat over your helmet, and that cycling jersey someone gifted you, genuinely believing it was a great present for a cyclist.

This isn’t the moment for headphones, silent suffering, or staring at numbers. It’s about shared movement after shared excess. A group ride that feels more like a continuation of the holidays than a break from them. The joy of riding matters more than how far or how fast you go, and the only real mistake here is treating it like a normal day on the bike.

Ride together, keep it light, and remember that if you disappear off the front, all you’ve really proven is that you didn’t understand the assignment.

Winter cycling
Since you gained about 20,000 calories over the three days of Christmas, you may fancy a quick ride to remind your body that there are other things besides sitting in front of the table or the TV. © Profimedia

2. Zone 2. No, really! Zone 2.

You’re feeling great, and that’s outstanding. It shows you had some restraint during the holiday feasts. How Christian of you. Still, being a devout Christian also means putting others’ needs above your own. So even though you can certainly rush that mountain pass for a PR, don’t. Nobody needs a reminder that you still know how to push. This is not a race. It’s not even proper training. So at least this time, let Zone 2 mean Zone 2.

This way, you’ll have much more fun. You’ll actually be able to talk without sounding like an asthmatic Darth Vader. More importantly, keep your heart rate in Zone 2 or 3. Averaging 180 bpm will truly bring you closer to God, but not in the spiritual sense. It will quite literally bring you to the Gates of Saint Peter. After such an eating fest, pushing yourself to the limit is a great way to end the ride with a heart attack.

Plus, attacking on climbs, chasing imaginary breakaways, or sprinting road signs is deeply unsporting. Some of your friends are still hungover, and others left the table just this morning. Show some mercy and let Zone 2 be Zone 2. Just this one time.

3. The weather has a vote

It’s winter. Real winter. Not the Instagram kind with blue skies and a tasteful dusting of snow, but the version where the air hurts your face, and the road surface actively resents you being there. Pretending otherwise won’t change a thing.

If the forecast involves blizzards, black ice, or visibility that requires faith rather than eyesight, maybe don’t force the ride. The post-Christmas spin is meant to ease you back into movement, not generate paperwork for emergency services. Nobody needs a heroic story that starts with “we thought it would be fine” and ends with a phone call nobody wanted to make.

Cold is fine. Grey is fine. A bit of snow that crunches politely under your tyres is even charming. But once the weather turns openly hostile, postponing the ride stops being laziness and starts being common sense.

So don’t ruin Christmas for the good folks in rescue squads and emergency rooms. They already have enough on their plate.

4. Know where you’re stopping

The mid-ride stop is not a suggestion. It’s a structural element. After Christmas, your body does not appreciate surprises, especially the kind that involve standing still in the cold, slowly realizing the place you were counting on is closed.

Before you roll out, make sure the bakery, hut, café, or whatever you’re calling a stop actually exists, is open, and contains heat. Warmth matters. Hot drinks matter even more. Eating a sandwich in freezing temperatures while your sweat debates whether to freeze to your skin or your clothes is not festive. It’s a poor life choice.

This ride is already happening in winter. You don’t need to make it harder by improvising hospitality. A warm stop keeps spirits high, fingers functional, and conversations coherent. Skip it, and the mood turns quiet very quickly, for reasons nobody wants to spell out.

5. End it properly

This is still a celebration. You rode, you behaved yourself, and you successfully reminded your body that movement exists. That doesn’t mean the Christmas spirit gets canceled at the finish line.

Stick around. Sit down. Have a drink. Mulled wine, tea with rum, something warm and reassuring. Or, if you’re feeling bold and your judgment is still on holiday, an ice-cold beer. Not the smartest decision you’ll make this week, but far from the worst.

The post-Christmas ride isn’t complete until the helmets come off and the conversation slows down. Calories were burned, yes, but more importantly, the ritual was observed. Ending the ride without a shared drink feels abrupt, almost rude, like leaving Christmas dinner before dessert because you checked your watch.

Have one. Enjoy it. You’ve earned the right to pretend that balance has been restored, at least until New Year’s Eve reminds you otherwise.