Six years ago, I bought my first road bike — a 2015 Giant Defy. I jumped on, pedalled off into the countryside, and honestly thought I was living the dream.
The only problem? The bike was too big.
I didn’t know that, of course. Who would? I just assumed that a sore neck, numb hands, and constant saddle discomfort were part of the experience. I figured cycling was supposed to feel like that — a mix of fun, speed, and a dash of physical suffering.
Three years later, I finally had a professional bike fit. Same bike, but suddenly everything clicked. My position was way off. My thinking? Also off. But hey — at least my saddle was high enough to see over small vans, so there’s that.
That bike fit changed everything. I dropped a frame size, adjusted my contact points, and instantly felt more stable, more powerful, and — crucially — less like I was folding myself into a yoga pose every time I hit the drops.
Now, I’m not a bike fitter. I’m not pretending to be one. But I’ve made a lot of mistakes — eight big ones, in fact — and I want to share them so you don’t end up like me. Or like Dave, who just bought his first road bike and is currently two rides away from either a breakthrough or a physio appointment.
In this post, I’ll walk you through the key things I learned, the major changes I made to my setup, and how my riding has improved since. I’ll also show how my measurements and riding position evolved — from that oversized first bike to my current setup.
If even one person reading this gains something useful and improves their position, it’ll have been worth it.
Mistake 1: Buying the Wrong Size Bike
This is probably the most common mistake new road cyclists make — and yes, I made it too. My first proper road bike was a Giant Defy in a size Medium, and I just assumed that meant it would fit me. I didn’t overthink it. After all, a medium is a medium… like in T-shirts, right?
Except bike sizing doesn’t work like that. At all.
Unlike clothing, there’s no industry standard for bike sizes. A “54cm” frame from one brand might fit completely differently than a 54cm from another. And when you throw in terms like “Small,” “Medium,” or “Large,” it only gets more confusing.
Every manufacturer has its own geometry, sizing charts, and intended fit. Two bikes labelled the same size can feel completely different on the road.
Take my situation: I thought my Medium Giant Defy was roughly equivalent to, say, a size 54 Cannondale SuperSix EVO. But when you actually compare the geometry:
The Cannondale had a 7mm longer reach
A 35mm taller seat tube
And a completely different shape and ride feel
Those aren’t minor differences — they can drastically change how the bike handles, how you sit on it, and how much pain you’re in after 90 minutes.
That’s why I now never rely on size labels alone. Instead, I use tools like Bike Insights — a brilliant site that shows you the real geometry behind each bike. You can overlay models, compare stack and reach, and get a true understanding of how frames differ beyond just the label.
So if you’re thinking about buying a new bike — especially second-hand, or switching brands — do yourself a favour and look at the numbers, not just the size.
Because starting off on a bike that doesn’t fit is like learning to run in shoes two sizes too big. You can do it, but it won’t be pretty.
Mistake 2: Riding a Bike That Was Too Big (For Three Years)
Because I bought the wrong size bike, I made the next logical mistake: I rode it for three years.
At the time, I had no idea anything was wrong. But looking back at riding footage now… it’s painfully obvious.
The first thing you notice? I’d basically lost my neck. The reach was too long, my shoulders were hunched forward, and from the side, it looked like I was trying to impersonate a turtle. If I exaggerate it now, it looks funny — but that was genuinely how I rode.
Another dead giveaway? I was constantly reaching for the hoods. Like, really reaching. If you feel like you’re stretching to grab your brake levers, it’s a strong sign your cockpit is too long. But again, I just assumed that’s how road cycling was meant to feel — a little awkward and a bit uncomfortable.
Then there were my arms: completely locked out, with no bend in the elbows. Instead of being relaxed and responsive, I was just stiff — like I was bracing for impact on every ride. Classic signs of an ill-fitting bike, but unless you’ve seen yourself from the side, it’s hard to spot. Most of us don’t ride with side-on video angles unless we’re filming or being fitted.
And from the rear? My hips were rocking from side to side. Why? My saddle was too high, and I was overreaching for the pedals. It was like I was trying to squeeze out extra power, but the trade-off was total instability. Not ideal for comfort or efficiency.
All of this got fixed during my first professional bike fit. My reach was adjusted, saddle height corrected, and I was finally put into a position that didn’t feel like a constant battle with the bike. The difference? Immediate — and we’ll get into those specific changes shortly.
Mistake 3: Not Fitting the Bike to My Needs
This one crept up on me slowly — because it didn’t feel like a mistake at first.
Mistake number three was trying to fit myself to the bike, rather than fitting the bike to my actual needs. Like many cyclists, I was watching a lot of racing content: Tour de France riders, crit racers, and pros riding at 60kph while folded in half like origami. And when that’s all you see, it starts to feel like that’s the benchmark.
It gets into your head — that if you’re not practically chewing your stem, you’re doing it wrong.
That’s why I really rate Bike Fit James. He regularly reminds us that unless you’re being paid to ride a bike, you don’t need a position designed for someone who is. Your setup should reflect your own goals, your body, and the kind of riding you actually do.
I even tried the whole “slam the stem” thing for a video. Dropped it right down, looked fast… and instantly regretted it. The bars were lower, sure — but so was the enjoyment. What these aggressive positions often forget to mention is the one thing that actually matters for most of us: comfort.
Let’s break it down:
If you’re comfortable, you’ll ride longer.
If you’re comfortable, you’ll ride more often.
If you’re comfortable, you’re far less likely to get injured.
So it’s a false economy. Looking aero but coming home with a glowing undercarriage and shoulder pain isn’t a win. The rider who’s less aero but can go out and ride for four hours without issue? That’s the rider winning at life. That’s who Dave, or any average cyclist, should aim to be.
Now — if you’re racing crits and going full gas for an hour? Sure, your position will need to be more aggressive. But if you’re just trying to enjoy your weekend rides and not spend Monday Googling “numb hands cycling,” then comfort is king. Every time.
Mistake 4: Thinking Small Changes Don’t Matter
Mistake number four was a classic case of underestimation: I assumed that small changes wouldn’t make a big difference.
When I first started thinking about bike fit, I figured I’d need to make big, bold adjustments to feel anything — like dropping my saddle by a full centimetre, or swapping out my 100mm stem for something drastically shorter. I thought small changes, like a 3mm tweak, would be completely pointless.
Turns out, I was wrong.
During my bike fit, Romain — who was absolutely brilliant, by the way — walked me through a process where we adjusted my saddle height in 3mm increments. Just 3mm. And even on the very first adjustment, I could feel a difference. Not huge, but enough to notice — and enough to build from.
We continued to fine-tune: up and down, small changes each time. What this did was help me feel the extremes, which in turn helped me understand what right felt like. Once you know what too high and too low feel like, you start to hone in on that sweet spot in between.
We applied the same logic to reach, cleat position, and crank length, and again — the effect of these micro-adjustments was surprisingly big. What really blew my mind was how they compound. A 5mm drop in saddle height plus a 5mm shorter reach doesn’t sound like much on paper, but together, it completely changes how the bike feels underneath you.
The result? Better comfort, smoother pedalling, improved power delivery — all from changes that, before the fit, I would’ve written off as negligible.
So, the lesson here is simple: millimetres matter. A small adjustment in the right direction can have a huge effect on how your body interacts with the bike. Ignore the numbers at your own peril — or, like me, learn the hard way and then sing their praises later.
Mistake 5: Thinking One Change Doesn’t Affect Anything Else
This one’s a biggie — and something I hadn’t considered at all when I started tinkering with my position.
Mistake number five was assuming that you can change one thing on the bike and it won’t affect anything else. Spoiler: it absolutely does.
Take saddle height, for example. Say you drop your saddle by 2cm to fix your overextension. Great. But what you might not realise is that the saddle doesn’t just move up or down — because of the angle of the seat tube, it also moves forwards or backwards as it goes.
Here’s a simple way to picture it: imagine two angled lines forming a triangle. When the saddle goes higher, it also moves further away from the handlebars. Lower it, and it comes closer. So if you drop your saddle height by just 1cm, your saddle might move forward by 3–4mm — and as we covered earlier, those small changes can add up quickly.
Suddenly your reach feels different, your hip angle changes, and your weight shifts — all from what looked like a basic saddle adjustment.
It’s all connected. Your saddle height affects your reach. Your reach affects your hand and shoulder position. Your cleat angle affects knee tracking. Adjusting one variable creates a ripple effect through the whole setup.
It’s why a good bike fit doesn’t just look at one issue in isolation — it looks at the entire picture. Everything works together, and sometimes fixing one thing means re-checking everything else.
So if you’re experimenting with your position (and you should!), always zoom out and consider how each adjustment affects the rest of your setup. Because while it might feel like you’re just tweaking one number, you could be shifting your entire position without realising it.
Mistake 6: Not Finding the Right Cleat Position
For such small components, cleats can cause a lot of problems if they’re not set up properly — and I learned that the hard way.
Mistake number six was assuming my cleats were fine just because I bolted them on, didn’t fall over, and everything felt okay. I focused on the basics — fore and aft position (how far forward or back the cleat sits under the shoe) — and called it a day.
But it turns out, there’s more to it. A lot more.
The part I neglected for far too long was cleat angle — the way the cleat aligns your foot on the pedal. Most of us don’t have perfectly symmetrical feet. I definitely don’t. I broke my tibia and fibula years ago, which means my right foot naturally flares out more than my left. If your cleats don’t match how your feet naturally want to sit, your knees, hips, and even your back can start complaining.
And this isn’t just about injury prevention. When your feet are aligned properly, your entire pedal stroke becomes more efficient. You apply power better, feel more stable, and remove a lot of the unconscious tension that builds up when your body’s compensating for poor alignment.
The tricky part? Your feet don’t always feel wrong at first. You can ride for weeks or months before something starts to ache — and by then, it’s harder to trace the issue back to a few degrees of misalignment under your shoes.
Getting this right took trial and error, plus some guidance during my bike fit. And the result was huge: more comfort, better balance on the bike, and fewer weird niggles after long rides.
So if you haven’t already dialled in your cleat setup — especially the angle — it’s well worth checking. And remember: both feet are different. Treat them that way.
Mistake 7: Having a Reach That Was Too Long
If I had to pick the one thing that caused me the most discomfort over the years, it would be this: my reach was too long.
For a long time, I didn’t realise it. I thought the shoulder tension and neck pain were just part of the road cycling experience — something you had to “ride through” as you got stronger. But in reality, I was just overstretched. The position looked fast… but felt awful.
From the side, it was clear as day: my neck had completely vanished. My shoulders were hunched, and I was in a constant shrug, trying to hold onto the bars. Over the course of an hour or two, that position would build up into full-blown neck ache. And if you’ve ever tried to look over your shoulder in traffic with a stiff neck, you’ll know that’s not ideal.
My arms were also nearly locked out. Instead of having a relaxed bend in the elbows, they were straight and rigid — which not only made the handling twitchier, but also transferred every bump and vibration straight into my shoulders and spine.
Again, these things aren’t always obvious until you see yourself on video, or feel what a proper setup is supposed to feel like. But once I shortened my reach — through a combination of stem length, bar reach, and frame geometry — everything changed.
My upper body relaxed. My neck reappeared. My handling improved. And most importantly, I could ride longer without constantly shifting around, trying to “fix” something that was never going to feel right.
So if your reach is too long, don’t ignore it. It’s not just about comfort — it affects your power delivery, handling, and long-term enjoyment of riding. And no, looking “aero” isn’t worth it if you’re bracing yourself for dear life every time you hit a bump.
Mistake 8: Setting the Saddle Height Too High
Out of all the mistakes I made, this was probably the most impactful: my saddle was way too high — for three full years.
It’s such a common issue among new cyclists, and I totally understand why. A high saddle looks efficient. You see pros with long legs and low bars and think, “That’s what fast looks like.” But what it actually felt like for me was knee pain, hip rocking, and constantly shifting around on the saddle to find some relief.
And yes — there are loads of videos out there on how to find the right saddle height (Bike Fit James and Cade Media have excellent guides). But here are five practical signs I now use to sniff out when my saddle height is wrong:
1. Knee Pain
Too low, and your knee angle becomes compressed, sometimes causing hip impingement. Too high, and your knees overextend, pulling at the back of the joint. Either way, your legs will let you know — no protractor required.
2. Uneven Pedal Stroke
When your saddle height is off, your pedal stroke won’t feel smooth or circular. I sometimes describe it as “rugby ball power delivery” — strong in parts, but inconsistent. A smooth stroke allows higher cadence and better efficiency. A choppy one makes everything harder.
3. Rocking Hips
If your hips are swaying side to side as you ride, you’re likely reaching for the pedals at the bottom of the stroke. It wastes energy, makes you unstable, and often leads to discomfort (or worse, saddle sores).
4. Unusual Cadence
This one surprised me. I never realised how much saddle height can affect cadence. Too high, and I’d be grinding — struggling to hold 150 watts at 80 RPM. But when the height was right, I could spin at 90–95 RPM with the same effort. It turns out, improving cadence isn’t always about pedalling faster — sometimes it’s about getting the setup right first.
5. Saddle Sores
No one wants them, but if your hips are moving excessively or you’re constantly repositioning, friction increases and saddle sores can follow. While shape and padding matter too, height plays a major role.
There are other signs — tight hips, lower back pain, weird tension — but these are the clearest indicators I look for now.
The key lesson? You don’t need to guess. There’s science and structure behind getting your saddle height right — and it can completely change your riding experience. For me, lowering the saddle by just 21mm made a world of difference.
From Endurance to Race Geometry: What Actually Changed?
After all the mistakes, adjustments, and learnings, I eventually moved from my original Giant Defy to a much racier setup — the Elves Vanyar. And while the Vanyar might look more aggressive on paper, the key difference is this: I’m actually more comfortable on it — because it fits me properly.
Here’s a breakdown of how the two bikes compare in terms of fit and geometry:
Measurement
Giant Defy
Elves Vanyar
Difference
Saddle Height (BB to ALM)
776mm
755mm
-21mm
Lever Reach
837mm
802mm
-35mm
Bar Reach
699mm
668mm
-31mm
Bar Drop
69mm
115mm
+46mm
Handlebar Width
40cm
38cm
-2cm
Crank Length
172.5mm
170mm
-2.5mm
Saddle X (horizontal)
242mm
212mm
-30mm
Saddle Y (vertical)
737mm
720mm
-17mm
Handlebar Y (vertical)
650mm
595mm
-55mm
Even though the Vanyar has a more race-oriented frame, I was able to make it work by adjusting the finer details — shorter crank arms, reduced reach, narrower bars, and a more compact overall fit. The result? More comfort, more control, and more confidence on the bike.
The most dramatic shift was the bar drop — from 69mm on the Defy to 115mm on the Vanyar. On paper, that’s a much lower front end. But because everything else was properly dialled in — reach, saddle position, bar width — the aggressive setup actually feels better, not worse.
The Big Takeaway:
You can ride a fast bike and still be comfortable — if your fit supports it. Chasing pro geometry without the right adjustments will only lead to discomfort. But when your setup is tailored to you, the whole riding experience transforms.
How a Proper Bike Fit Transformed My Ride (And Why It Matters More Than You Think)
Six years ago, I bought my first road bike — a 2015 Giant Defy. I jumped on, pedalled off into the countryside, and honestly thought I was living the dream.
The only problem? The bike was too big.
I didn’t know that, of course. Who would? I just assumed that a sore neck, numb hands, and constant saddle discomfort were part of the experience. I figured cycling was supposed to feel like that — a mix of fun, speed, and a dash of physical suffering.
Three years later, I finally had a professional bike fit. Same bike, but suddenly everything clicked. My position was way off. My thinking? Also off. But hey — at least my saddle was high enough to see over small vans, so there’s that.
That bike fit changed everything. I dropped a frame size, adjusted my contact points, and instantly felt more stable, more powerful, and — crucially — less like I was folding myself into a yoga pose every time I hit the drops.
Now, I’m not a bike fitter. I’m not pretending to be one. But I’ve made a lot of mistakes — eight big ones, in fact — and I want to share them so you don’t end up like me. Or like Dave, who just bought his first road bike and is currently two rides away from either a breakthrough or a physio appointment.
In this post, I’ll walk you through the key things I learned, the major changes I made to my setup, and how my riding has improved since. I’ll also show how my measurements and riding position evolved — from that oversized first bike to my current setup.
If even one person reading this gains something useful and improves their position, it’ll have been worth it.
Mistake 1: Buying the Wrong Size Bike
This is probably the most common mistake new road cyclists make — and yes, I made it too. My first proper road bike was a Giant Defy in a size Medium, and I just assumed that meant it would fit me. I didn’t overthink it. After all, a medium is a medium… like in T-shirts, right?
Except bike sizing doesn’t work like that. At all.
Unlike clothing, there’s no industry standard for bike sizes. A “54cm” frame from one brand might fit completely differently than a 54cm from another. And when you throw in terms like “Small,” “Medium,” or “Large,” it only gets more confusing.
Every manufacturer has its own geometry, sizing charts, and intended fit. Two bikes labelled the same size can feel completely different on the road.
Take my situation: I thought my Medium Giant Defy was roughly equivalent to, say, a size 54 Cannondale SuperSix EVO. But when you actually compare the geometry:
The Cannondale had a 7mm longer reach
A 35mm taller seat tube
And a completely different shape and ride feel
Those aren’t minor differences — they can drastically change how the bike handles, how you sit on it, and how much pain you’re in after 90 minutes.
That’s why I now never rely on size labels alone. Instead, I use tools like Bike Insights — a brilliant site that shows you the real geometry behind each bike. You can overlay models, compare stack and reach, and get a true understanding of how frames differ beyond just the label.
So if you’re thinking about buying a new bike — especially second-hand, or switching brands — do yourself a favour and look at the numbers, not just the size.
Because starting off on a bike that doesn’t fit is like learning to run in shoes two sizes too big. You can do it, but it won’t be pretty.
Mistake 2: Riding a Bike That Was Too Big (For Three Years)
Because I bought the wrong size bike, I made the next logical mistake: I rode it for three years.
At the time, I had no idea anything was wrong. But looking back at riding footage now… it’s painfully obvious.
The first thing you notice? I’d basically lost my neck. The reach was too long, my shoulders were hunched forward, and from the side, it looked like I was trying to impersonate a turtle. If I exaggerate it now, it looks funny — but that was genuinely how I rode.
Another dead giveaway? I was constantly reaching for the hoods. Like, really reaching. If you feel like you’re stretching to grab your brake levers, it’s a strong sign your cockpit is too long. But again, I just assumed that’s how road cycling was meant to feel — a little awkward and a bit uncomfortable.
Then there were my arms: completely locked out, with no bend in the elbows. Instead of being relaxed and responsive, I was just stiff — like I was bracing for impact on every ride. Classic signs of an ill-fitting bike, but unless you’ve seen yourself from the side, it’s hard to spot. Most of us don’t ride with side-on video angles unless we’re filming or being fitted.
And from the rear? My hips were rocking from side to side. Why? My saddle was too high, and I was overreaching for the pedals. It was like I was trying to squeeze out extra power, but the trade-off was total instability. Not ideal for comfort or efficiency.
All of this got fixed during my first professional bike fit. My reach was adjusted, saddle height corrected, and I was finally put into a position that didn’t feel like a constant battle with the bike. The difference? Immediate — and we’ll get into those specific changes shortly.
Mistake 3: Not Fitting the Bike to My Needs
This one crept up on me slowly — because it didn’t feel like a mistake at first.
Mistake number three was trying to fit myself to the bike, rather than fitting the bike to my actual needs. Like many cyclists, I was watching a lot of racing content: Tour de France riders, crit racers, and pros riding at 60kph while folded in half like origami. And when that’s all you see, it starts to feel like that’s the benchmark.
It gets into your head — that if you’re not practically chewing your stem, you’re doing it wrong.
That’s why I really rate Bike Fit James. He regularly reminds us that unless you’re being paid to ride a bike, you don’t need a position designed for someone who is. Your setup should reflect your own goals, your body, and the kind of riding you actually do.
I even tried the whole “slam the stem” thing for a video. Dropped it right down, looked fast… and instantly regretted it. The bars were lower, sure — but so was the enjoyment. What these aggressive positions often forget to mention is the one thing that actually matters for most of us: comfort.
Let’s break it down:
If you’re comfortable, you’ll ride longer.
If you’re comfortable, you’ll ride more often.
If you’re comfortable, you’re far less likely to get injured.
So it’s a false economy. Looking aero but coming home with a glowing undercarriage and shoulder pain isn’t a win. The rider who’s less aero but can go out and ride for four hours without issue? That’s the rider winning at life. That’s who Dave, or any average cyclist, should aim to be.
Now — if you’re racing crits and going full gas for an hour? Sure, your position will need to be more aggressive. But if you’re just trying to enjoy your weekend rides and not spend Monday Googling “numb hands cycling,” then comfort is king. Every time.
Mistake 4: Thinking Small Changes Don’t Matter
Mistake number four was a classic case of underestimation: I assumed that small changes wouldn’t make a big difference.
When I first started thinking about bike fit, I figured I’d need to make big, bold adjustments to feel anything — like dropping my saddle by a full centimetre, or swapping out my 100mm stem for something drastically shorter. I thought small changes, like a 3mm tweak, would be completely pointless.
Turns out, I was wrong.
During my bike fit, Romain — who was absolutely brilliant, by the way — walked me through a process where we adjusted my saddle height in 3mm increments. Just 3mm. And even on the very first adjustment, I could feel a difference. Not huge, but enough to notice — and enough to build from.
We continued to fine-tune: up and down, small changes each time. What this did was help me feel the extremes, which in turn helped me understand what right felt like. Once you know what too high and too low feel like, you start to hone in on that sweet spot in between.
We applied the same logic to reach, cleat position, and crank length, and again — the effect of these micro-adjustments was surprisingly big. What really blew my mind was how they compound. A 5mm drop in saddle height plus a 5mm shorter reach doesn’t sound like much on paper, but together, it completely changes how the bike feels underneath you.
The result? Better comfort, smoother pedalling, improved power delivery — all from changes that, before the fit, I would’ve written off as negligible.
So, the lesson here is simple: millimetres matter. A small adjustment in the right direction can have a huge effect on how your body interacts with the bike. Ignore the numbers at your own peril — or, like me, learn the hard way and then sing their praises later.
Mistake 5: Thinking One Change Doesn’t Affect Anything Else
This one’s a biggie — and something I hadn’t considered at all when I started tinkering with my position.
Mistake number five was assuming that you can change one thing on the bike and it won’t affect anything else. Spoiler: it absolutely does.
Take saddle height, for example. Say you drop your saddle by 2cm to fix your overextension. Great. But what you might not realise is that the saddle doesn’t just move up or down — because of the angle of the seat tube, it also moves forwards or backwards as it goes.
Here’s a simple way to picture it: imagine two angled lines forming a triangle. When the saddle goes higher, it also moves further away from the handlebars. Lower it, and it comes closer. So if you drop your saddle height by just 1cm, your saddle might move forward by 3–4mm — and as we covered earlier, those small changes can add up quickly.
Suddenly your reach feels different, your hip angle changes, and your weight shifts — all from what looked like a basic saddle adjustment.
It’s all connected. Your saddle height affects your reach. Your reach affects your hand and shoulder position. Your cleat angle affects knee tracking. Adjusting one variable creates a ripple effect through the whole setup.
It’s why a good bike fit doesn’t just look at one issue in isolation — it looks at the entire picture. Everything works together, and sometimes fixing one thing means re-checking everything else.
So if you’re experimenting with your position (and you should!), always zoom out and consider how each adjustment affects the rest of your setup. Because while it might feel like you’re just tweaking one number, you could be shifting your entire position without realising it.
Mistake 6: Not Finding the Right Cleat Position
For such small components, cleats can cause a lot of problems if they’re not set up properly — and I learned that the hard way.
Mistake number six was assuming my cleats were fine just because I bolted them on, didn’t fall over, and everything felt okay. I focused on the basics — fore and aft position (how far forward or back the cleat sits under the shoe) — and called it a day.
But it turns out, there’s more to it. A lot more.
The part I neglected for far too long was cleat angle — the way the cleat aligns your foot on the pedal. Most of us don’t have perfectly symmetrical feet. I definitely don’t. I broke my tibia and fibula years ago, which means my right foot naturally flares out more than my left. If your cleats don’t match how your feet naturally want to sit, your knees, hips, and even your back can start complaining.
And this isn’t just about injury prevention. When your feet are aligned properly, your entire pedal stroke becomes more efficient. You apply power better, feel more stable, and remove a lot of the unconscious tension that builds up when your body’s compensating for poor alignment.
The tricky part? Your feet don’t always feel wrong at first. You can ride for weeks or months before something starts to ache — and by then, it’s harder to trace the issue back to a few degrees of misalignment under your shoes.
Getting this right took trial and error, plus some guidance during my bike fit. And the result was huge: more comfort, better balance on the bike, and fewer weird niggles after long rides.
So if you haven’t already dialled in your cleat setup — especially the angle — it’s well worth checking. And remember: both feet are different. Treat them that way.
Mistake 7: Having a Reach That Was Too Long
If I had to pick the one thing that caused me the most discomfort over the years, it would be this: my reach was too long.
For a long time, I didn’t realise it. I thought the shoulder tension and neck pain were just part of the road cycling experience — something you had to “ride through” as you got stronger. But in reality, I was just overstretched. The position looked fast… but felt awful.
From the side, it was clear as day: my neck had completely vanished. My shoulders were hunched, and I was in a constant shrug, trying to hold onto the bars. Over the course of an hour or two, that position would build up into full-blown neck ache. And if you’ve ever tried to look over your shoulder in traffic with a stiff neck, you’ll know that’s not ideal.
My arms were also nearly locked out. Instead of having a relaxed bend in the elbows, they were straight and rigid — which not only made the handling twitchier, but also transferred every bump and vibration straight into my shoulders and spine.
Again, these things aren’t always obvious until you see yourself on video, or feel what a proper setup is supposed to feel like. But once I shortened my reach — through a combination of stem length, bar reach, and frame geometry — everything changed.
My upper body relaxed. My neck reappeared. My handling improved. And most importantly, I could ride longer without constantly shifting around, trying to “fix” something that was never going to feel right.
So if your reach is too long, don’t ignore it. It’s not just about comfort — it affects your power delivery, handling, and long-term enjoyment of riding. And no, looking “aero” isn’t worth it if you’re bracing yourself for dear life every time you hit a bump.
Mistake 8: Setting the Saddle Height Too High
Out of all the mistakes I made, this was probably the most impactful: my saddle was way too high — for three full years.
It’s such a common issue among new cyclists, and I totally understand why. A high saddle looks efficient. You see pros with long legs and low bars and think, “That’s what fast looks like.” But what it actually felt like for me was knee pain, hip rocking, and constantly shifting around on the saddle to find some relief.
And yes — there are loads of videos out there on how to find the right saddle height (Bike Fit James and Cade Media have excellent guides). But here are five practical signs I now use to sniff out when my saddle height is wrong:
1. Knee Pain
Too low, and your knee angle becomes compressed, sometimes causing hip impingement. Too high, and your knees overextend, pulling at the back of the joint. Either way, your legs will let you know — no protractor required.
2. Uneven Pedal Stroke
When your saddle height is off, your pedal stroke won’t feel smooth or circular. I sometimes describe it as “rugby ball power delivery” — strong in parts, but inconsistent. A smooth stroke allows higher cadence and better efficiency. A choppy one makes everything harder.
3. Rocking Hips
If your hips are swaying side to side as you ride, you’re likely reaching for the pedals at the bottom of the stroke. It wastes energy, makes you unstable, and often leads to discomfort (or worse, saddle sores).
4. Unusual Cadence
This one surprised me. I never realised how much saddle height can affect cadence. Too high, and I’d be grinding — struggling to hold 150 watts at 80 RPM. But when the height was right, I could spin at 90–95 RPM with the same effort. It turns out, improving cadence isn’t always about pedalling faster — sometimes it’s about getting the setup right first.
5. Saddle Sores
No one wants them, but if your hips are moving excessively or you’re constantly repositioning, friction increases and saddle sores can follow. While shape and padding matter too, height plays a major role.
There are other signs — tight hips, lower back pain, weird tension — but these are the clearest indicators I look for now.
The key lesson? You don’t need to guess. There’s science and structure behind getting your saddle height right — and it can completely change your riding experience. For me, lowering the saddle by just 21mm made a world of difference.
From Endurance to Race Geometry: What Actually Changed?
After all the mistakes, adjustments, and learnings, I eventually moved from my original Giant Defy to a much racier setup — the Elves Vanyar. And while the Vanyar might look more aggressive on paper, the key difference is this: I’m actually more comfortable on it — because it fits me properly.
Here’s a breakdown of how the two bikes compare in terms of fit and geometry:
Even though the Vanyar has a more race-oriented frame, I was able to make it work by adjusting the finer details — shorter crank arms, reduced reach, narrower bars, and a more compact overall fit. The result? More comfort, more control, and more confidence on the bike.
The most dramatic shift was the bar drop — from 69mm on the Defy to 115mm on the Vanyar. On paper, that’s a much lower front end. But because everything else was properly dialled in — reach, saddle position, bar width — the aggressive setup actually feels better, not worse.
The Big Takeaway:
You can ride a fast bike and still be comfortable — if your fit supports it. Chasing pro geometry without the right adjustments will only lead to discomfort. But when your setup is tailored to you, the whole riding experience transforms.