The Cyclist Parent: A Delicate Balance of Self and Family
There’s a quote often misattributed to Maya Angelou that goes, ‘You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.’ Personally, I think the same could be said for time—especially when you’re a parent. And yet, here we are, in an era where the expectation to be a ‘good parent’ feels more like a full-time job than ever before. Add cycling to the mix, and you’ve got a recipe for either chaos or clarity. What makes this particularly fascinating is how some parents are not just surviving but thriving by weaving their passion for cycling into the fabric of their family life.
Let’s take Dr. Claire Buky-Webster, for instance. She’s a clinical psychologist, a Cat 3 racer, and a mother of two. What many people don’t realize is that her approach to parenting isn’t about compartmentalizing her life but about integrating her passions. She sees her cycling as symbiotic with her role as a parent, not at odds with it. This raises a deeper question: Could pursuing personal fulfillment actually make us better parents?
From my perspective, the answer is a resounding yes—but with a caveat. Claire’s ability to balance her training with her family life isn’t just about time management; it’s about intentionality. She’s not just disappearing for hours on end; she’s creating a narrative around her cycling that her children can understand and even admire. Her daughters see her train, race, and even crash, learning that resilience and self-care are non-negotiable. This isn’t just parenting; it’s modeling.
But here’s the thing: Claire’s story isn’t universal. Not everyone has a partner like Ben, who actively supports her pursuits without feeling like a ‘cycling widower.’ And not every parent has the flexibility or resources to make this work. What this really suggests is that the balance between cycling and parenting isn’t just about individual effort—it’s about systemic support, cultural norms, and the invisible labor that often falls on mothers.
Take Tom Coke-Smyth, for example. He’s a barrister, a father of three, and a cyclist who trains 8 to 12 hours a week. One thing that immediately stands out is how he and his wife, Ellie, operate a ‘shift-based parenting’ system. It’s structured, communicative, and—most importantly—equitable. But even Tom admits he gets more latitude for his cycling than Ellie might. This isn’t just a personal anecdote; it’s a reflection of broader societal expectations around gender and parenting.
What’s especially interesting is how both Claire and Tom use their cycling to teach their children valuable life lessons. Claire’s crashes become teachable moments about resilience, while Tom’s races offer lessons in handling disappointment. If you take a step back and think about it, these aren’t just hobbies—they’re tools for parenting. But here’s where it gets tricky: Not every parent has the luxury of turning their passions into parenting lessons.
This brings me to a broader point: The pressure to be a ‘good parent’ today is suffocating. As cognitive neuroscientist Rebecca Saxe points out, modern parenting is more intense than ever, with the primary caregiver—usually the mother—bearing the brunt of the labor. In this context, pursuing something like cycling can feel selfish. But in my opinion, that’s exactly why it’s necessary.
The Austrian child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim once urged parents to aim for ‘good enough’ rather than ‘perfect.’ I think the same principle applies to cycling. You don’t have to be a pro to be a good cyclist, just as you don’t have to be flawless to be a good parent. What matters is showing up—for yourself and for your family.
So, can you be a good cyclist and a good parent? Personally, I think the question is flawed. It’s not about either/or; it’s about how these roles intersect and enrich each other. Claire and Tom aren’t just cyclists or parents—they’re both, and that’s what makes their stories so compelling.
If there’s one takeaway here, it’s this: Parenting doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game. Pursuing your passions doesn’t make you a worse parent; it can make you a better one. But it requires intentionality, support, and a willingness to redefine what ‘good’ looks like. After all, as Claire puts it, ‘If I wasn’t happy, challenged, fulfilled, I’d be a worse parent.’ And isn’t that the truth?
