Introduction
I didn’t look like the riders around me at the start line. Their bikes gleamed, their kits matched, and their confidence seemed effortless. Less than a year ago, I hadn’t even trained seriously on gravel. But there I was in Emporia, Kansas, lining up for the Unbound 50.
If you’ve ever wondered whether you belong, questioned your strength, or feared you were in over your head, then you know exactly what I felt that morning.
This is the story of how I went from a rider still learning to shift on gravel roads to a finisher in one of the hardest races in endurance cycling.
Background
I started riding because I was searching for a healthier life and a stronger community. Three years earlier, I’d undergone weight-loss surgery, and while that helped transform my health, I still needed something to rebuild strength, joy, and identity. Gravel riding quickly became that outlet.
At first, I was completely lost. On my first group ride, I was dropped by mile three. I didn’t even know what a bike computer was, let alone that I needed one to find my way back. I remember nervously asking another rider, “Do I need one of those things?”
Then I saw the Unbound riders: ordinary people doing extraordinary miles on Kansas dirt roads. I grew up in a rural farm community, so grit, mud, and dust weren’t strangers to me. I even knew how to “call the cows” on my rides. For the first time, I thought — maybe I belonged here, too.
Gravel wasn’t just exercise. It became my way of connecting health, heritage, and community.
The Big Story
The first 10 miles of the Unbound 50 felt effortless. The course was flat, the energy electric. My mind told me, This is a piece of cake. I can do this kind of gravel all day. I even passed a few riders, my confidence soaring.
But by mile 20, reality arrived. The sun pressed down, the rolling hills hit hard, and my water was running low. Each climb felt longer than the last. My quads burned, my breathing grew ragged, and doubt crept in.
At mile 30, I cracked. I stepped off my bike, legs shaking. Pride told me not to walk, but survival demanded it. That’s when gravel community showed up. I recognized another rider I’d met at a previous race, and we instantly commiserated about how the 50 was closer to 55 miles. Misery had company, and suddenly I didn’t feel so alone.
To keep moving, I used what I call “chunking.” I stopped thinking about the finish line and started counting the gravel mounds one by one. Later, up the steep hill into Emporia, I focused on the sidewalk lines under my feet. Each one brought me closer.
By then, the course had thrown everything at me: heat, hills, cramps, and doubt. But with every small chunk, I pushed forward.
As I neared the finish chute, I heard my family cheering: “I’m so proud of you. You can do this.” I crossed the line not with perfect form or a podium place but with the quiet knowledge that I had proven something to myself.
Gravel wasn’t asking me to be flawless. It was asking me to keep going. And in that moment, I knew the truth: walking is not weakness, chunking is survival, and we’re all doing hard things — but we’re doing them together.
Closing Takeaway
The Unbound 50 didn’t make me faster or stronger overnight. What it gave me was belonging. In less than a year of training, I learned that gravel is less about watts or wins and more about persistence and people.
I’m not a pro. I’m a healthcare tech professional, a mom, and someone who still feels new to the sport. But gravel doesn’t care who you are — it just demands that you show up and keep going.
And that’s why I’ll keep riding. Because in gravel, the road doesn’t measure perfection. It measures grit.
Author Bio
Amanda Duling is a gravel cyclist and Unbound 50 finisher who began training on gravel less than a year before tackling the Flint Hills. By day, she works in healthcare technology; by dawn and dusk, she’s on the dirt roads of Kansas. Amanda brings an honest voice to endurance riding, showing that everyday athletes balancing career and life belong on gravel just as much as anyone chasing podiums.
My son and I both rode our first Unbound Gravel (50). I’d done a lot of gravel bike events the past 6 years, he was a newbie. Late last Fall, he said, I want to ride Unbound Gravel next year and I said, you don’t ride your bike in years and don’t even own a gravel bike. But he was pretty adamant about it and I said, ok I’ll buy you the gravel bike but you are going to ride it, enter Unbound 50 and finish it. He said yup he would. He lives in Kansas and bought a Tacx indoor trainer and rode it every morning for about an hour before work. He found a gravel section near his home, 38 mi r/t and rode it, no realizing that 1. you need to carry extra water, 2. you need to eat on the bike and 3. if you you don’t drink and eat, you’re going to bonk…which he did 5 mi from home and said it was all he could do to get home. I schooled him in drinking (even put alerts on his Garmin Edge for drinking and eating. I drove to Olathe on Wed before Unbound and he said, I want to finish and I don’t want to be last. I rode along with him, of course he went out way too fast, exhuberant to the limit and at the 15 mi aid station, he wanted water refill then go. I said, just chill, drink something, and eat something here. We left, hit that mud section, he carried his bike, me at 77, I walked it through. I was so damn proud of him as he didn’t walk a single hill or climb in the entire 50+ miles and we finished in just under 5 hrs. ride time. He’s committed to riding Unbound 50 again next year but “I want to ride it faster next year”.
I needed to read this! Thank you.