Zone 2 Training and the Slow, Agonizing Beauty of Incremental Progress

There’s this moment about 25 minutes into a Zone 2 ride where your brain starts whispering, What are we even doing here? You’re not going hard enough to feel fast. You’re not going slow enough to feel like you’re recovering. You’re just…there. Spinning. Watching your power meter hover in a range that feels more like a suggestion than a workout. 

And that’s where the real work begins. 

As I’ve gotten a little older and shifted my focus away from racing, I got a little more honest about what my goals are. Not trying to win anything, I was training to keep myself strong, focused, and functional while juggling work, parenting, and grad school. Riding outside used to be like a form or therapy for me. Now? I need a plan. I need to fit it in between a Zoom meeting and my kid’s bedtime story. And I need it to work.

Zone 2 fits, even if it doesn’t feel particularly inspiring in the moment. That’s sort of the point. 

The problem is, incremental progress doesn’t make great social media content. No one’s posting sweaty selfies with the caption, “Held 185 watts for 65 minutes and didn’t feel like quitting once.” But if you’re training with your purpose, especially as someone whose FTP or iLevels are no longer the center of your identity, those kinds of wins actually matter more than PRs. 

Zone 2 training is a long game. It’s a test of patience, ego management, and consistency. You don’t feel like a superhero when you’re doing it, but two months later, when your heart rate drops ten beats at the same effort, you realize something shifted. You got better. Quietly. Methodically. Without fanfare. 

And here’s where that ties into leadership. 

A lot of the work that actually makes you a better leader feels just as thankless. You read the books on communication. You rewrite your team’s onboarding plan. You sit through another one-on-one that feels like a therapy session held next to a forklift. None of that stuff gets you a standing ovation. But when you zoom out, it’s the stuff that keeps your team up when things start to get shaky. 

Leaders who only invest big moments miss the point Progress lives in small reps. It shows up in how you listen, how you show up on a bad day, and how you choose to support someone even when they’re driving you up the wall. Leadership and Zone 2 both reward people who can keep going when there’s no immediate payoff. 

I haven’t ridden outside in years. Not because I don’t want to, but because training indoors fits my life better. It’s consistent. It’s predictable. It’s efficient. And in this season of life, those things matter more than fresh air and KOMs. 

So yeah, I’m a Level 2 cycling coach who trains on a smart trainer in my basement while listening to D&D podcasts and sipping electrolyte mix out of a Sponge Bob cup because my kid borrowed all the real bottles. Not exactly what I pictured when I got into this sport. But it works. 

And in a weird way, that’s the beauty of it. When you let go of the flashy stuff and lean into the slow, intentional work, you start to notice the progress actually sticks. 

Whether you’re leading, or just trying to be a little less of a mess than you were last week, the secret isn’t doing more. 
It’s doing it on purpose.