The Art of the Draft

The Art of the Draft

In the spring of 2025, I took up fitness as a way of life—not just a new hobby. I genuinely wanted to live better. I didn’t want to feel like I might die after climbing three flights of stairs. And I wanted to spend more time with my husband, who spent a lot of time riding his bicycle and running.

If I’m being totally honest, it was more the latter at first.

Maybe I was a little jealous that he spent so much time doing things with other groups of people. I knew it was my choice to either sit on the sidelines and watch or jump in. So I decided to get off the couch and try something new. Once I realized the true benefits of physical activity at my age, I was all in.

The bicycle I had was a commuter bike. I knew as little about cycling as a person could know—other than how to ride a bike, which I had done plenty of as a child. I didn’t know the rules, and I knew even less about cycling etiquette. And yes… that is very much a thing.

When I first started, I rode my pretty, mint-green commuter bike—a Cannondale Quick something-or-other that I had ordered online from REI using points, so it didn’t cost me much. I hated the way my helmet looked on me, but I knew the importance of wearing one, so I did.

My husband, on the other hand, had a fancy bike (at least to me), and he had the kit—padded shorts and a cycling jersey—so he certainly looked the part. After a few short rides around the neighborhood, I ordered my own pair of padded cycling shorts, because those tiny seats can be hard on the booty.

And once you have the shorts, of course you need a cycling jersey too. So I scrolled through Amazon and picked something I thought was cool. (I’ve always believed you should dress the part—no matter what the part is!)

My husband took me out for my first road ride, and I pedaled with all my might. I could barely keep up with him. Actually, I couldn’t keep up with him—he kept slowing down so I could catch up. He had a bike computer, so he knew exactly how fast (or slow) we were going.

I think I topped out at eleven miles an hour. I was exhausted.

But I didn’t give up.

I kept trying.

He was patient and kept teaching me the language of cycling—how to call out debris in the road to protect the riders behind you, how to signal when you’re slowing down or stopping, and how important it is to keep your head on a swivel at all times.

A couple of months in, he bought me my own “fancy” bike. I didn’t know enough about bicycles to know what to want or even what to appreciate in a good one. I just knew it was a lovely shade of lavender.

Next came clipless pedals and cycling shoes… then gloves, lights, a saddle bag, a flat kit, water bottles, and cages. The list is endless, as any cyclist will tell you.

One of the most important things I learned was how to draft.

(Well—second most. The most important thing was learning how to unclip from the pedals… but that’s a story for another day.)

Drafting is how you conserve energy. You tuck in behind the rider ahead of you and stay close, riding in their draft to reduce wind resistance. It’s much easier than riding in the lead—or “pulling,” as it’s called.

My riding has improved tremendously over the past six months. The fear of falling over has eased a bit. But I’m still working on drafting, because it requires a certain amount of trust in the rider ahead of you.

You trust that they’ll alert you to debris in the road.

You trust that they’ll signal if they’re slowing down or stopping.

You trust them not to make sudden, unexpected moves.

So when I ride with people I don’t know well—or haven’t ridden with before—I tend to hang back a bit. It’s a trust issue.

As I was thinking about this one day, the Holy Spirit showed me how much this applies spiritually.

The easiest way to get through life is drafting off of Him.

Get close.

Stay close.

Trust fully.

When it comes to cycling, I’m still learning. I’ve fallen more than once, and I have the scars to prove it.

In life, I’m still learning too. I’ve definitely fallen more than once—and I have scars from that as well.

So take it from a road-weary traveler:

Get in the draft.

Stay close.

Trust fully.

You’ll be glad you did.

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, He said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows Me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’”

John 8:12 (NIV)

Lord, help us to follow You closely, to trust You fully, and to rest in the draft of Your unfailing love.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Where are you being invited to stay close instead of pushing alone?

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