The best way to kick an addiction problem is to replace it with another.

I was an avid cyclist when I was young, but moved away from the sport when I began driving, and while I was in the military. I didn't return to cycling until I was in my 20's, working a hectic job, putting in more than 20 hours of overtime each week.

At that time, I had gotten out of shape, and had a lot of stress at work. I at lots of junk food, drank only cola, and was physically sliding downhill. I couldn't wake up in the mornings, always staying in bed until the last possible moment. After a 12 hour or longer day at work, I would lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. And when I did sleep, I tossed and turned all night.

A bicycle turned my life around. One day, on a whim, I bought a used road bike, some cheap shorts, a jersey, and shoes. I puttered around on the bike on my day off (I worked 6 days each week), getting myself used to the saddle, and back into the rhythm of riding.

One morning I set my alarm for an hour earlier, and with a great amount of willpower, dragged myself out of bed, dressed up, and got on my bike for a one-hour ride. It was still dark, and I didn't have lights, but I rode anyway. I did this every morning, and though I only rode for an hour, before long I could ride much further in an hour.

On my day off, I went for rides of 100km or so. The repetitive pedaling, the sound of the chain whirring through the gears, and the tires on the road was relaxing to me. After months of this, I lost weight, was sleeping better, and feeling better at work.

Then I got a new bike. My old bike had clips and straps, and friction shifters, I got a newer bike with clipless pedals, and integrated shifting. I was now commuting to work on my my bike, 40km each way, and on Saturdays, doing at least 100km, and once a month, 100 miles. The owner of the bike shop from which I bought my gear invited me to take part in their weekend group ride, and I decided to give it a try.

My first group ride went well enough, I got to meet a few people, most were talkative and friendly. About 20 minutes into the ride, the pace picked up, and after another 15 or so minutes, the ride broke into two groups, the faster riders peeling away, and leaving the slower riders (including myself) in their dust. Being left behind didn't sit well with me. When the faster riders broke away, I tried to jump up and join them, but they were too fast for me.

In group rides, I learned to ride straight, how to work in a pace line, to keep my eyes open, to hear people pointing out things in the road ahead, or pointing them out myself when I was in the front. It was a lot of fun, and the speed was much faster than riding alone. A solo century is a grueling test, a century in a group almost flies by. I rode every week, rain or shine, and made some really good friends.

In time, I was riding with the faster group, and got to the point that I was always one of the first finishers. The faster riders were very competitive, there was a lot of jockeying around, and the sprints were a blast. One of the guys I rode with, an Italian, invited to ride with a faster group which took place in another area. These guys were truly fast and crazy, and were a lot of fun to ride with. During the ride there could be yells and curses, but after the ride, everyone became friends again.

I found that I had become addicted to cycling. I was riding some 500km per week, I had lost almost every bit of fat on my body. I could no longer get my legs into the jeans I had once slipped into easily. My resting pulse dropped into the 40's. I could as much of anything as I wanted, as often as I wanted, and never gain weight. No matter how long the ride, how tiring, or how difficult, I felt good afterwards, and looked forward again to riding the next day. I was hooked.

I left my job, and did something which earned less money, but where I only had to work 40 hours a week. I began competing in local criteriums, and doing well. A friend of mine said an amateur team had a couple openings, and recommended me. I took a leave of absence at work, and spent a season competing around the region. I was a good sprinter, and though I somehow never managed to win any events, I made it to the podium a few times. The next season I was training in Mallorca in the spring, and then competing on a Spanish team in Southern Europe that summer.

20-odd years later, cycling still remains a passion of mine. It keeps me fit, and keeps me sane.