Bikeboard Festive 50,000 Calories

While others toil away with trainer sessions and FTP zones or even free riding in the cold, we celebrate the only true Festive: culinary loss of control with unrestrained gluttony.

Christmas time is not for catching your breath.
It's a review. A massacre. A welcome excuse to stuff into yourself everything between supermarket shelf and mother-in-law's buffet that isn't nailed down.

And that's why every year we resolve anew to completely derail ourselves between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. Not as a sporting challenge, but as a grotesque reminder that real discipline only begins on January 1st. 2028. Maybe.

1. You subscribe to this thread so you can be reminded daily how deep you'll sink.
2. You buy everything the discount store, the deli shelf and the gas station have to offer. No excuses. No salad leaves.
3. At every family visit you cram into yourself everything that is no longer alive or could still flee. No mercy. No breaks. No cutlery, if necessary.
4. You recognize like-minded people. Not by performance, but by the slight nausea and the yellow in their eyes.
5. You gorge yourselves collectively toward the abyss and share passion, suffering and digestive problems with your community.

Anyone who still burns fat on those eight days hasn’t understood the concept. We don’t count kilometers. We count cookies, calories and trips to the toilet.

If you wake up in the morning and your only impulse is to order pizza and knock back red wine, then you’re on course. If you’re already sweating by the second breakfast — perfect. If on December 31st you fall asleep before midnight sitting on the toilet or with your face over the bowl – congratulations! You’ve pretty much made it.