7 Reasons Why Riding on a Trainer Sucks (It’s Not Just You)

I get on the trainer. I clip in. I start pedaling. Ten minutes later, I hate everything.

I can ride outside for hours. I can go 60, 80, hell, even 100 miles and come back grinning like a lunatic. But on the trainer? I want to quit before my coffee has even cooled down.

It’s not just me. It’s not just you. It’s the trainer. It sucks. And here’s why.

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1. It’s Boring as Hell

Outside, things happen. Squirrels dart into the road, a car honks, some guy in a neon vest yells at you because you’re “in the way” (on a bike lane). There’s movement. Life.

Inside? It’s you, your bike, a screen, and the slow march of time. You pedal and stare at the same damn wall. Even with Zwift or Rouvy, it’s still a cartoon world that never changes. The same digital road. The same fake trees. The same soulless virtual cyclists who never wave back.

No one honks at you. No one yells at you. No one almost kills you. What kind of cycling experience is that?

2. Time Slows Down to a Crawl

Outside, three hours fly by. On a trainer, five minutes feel like five lifetimes. You check your timer—17 minutes in. You check again, sure it’s been at least another 10—18 minutes in.

The worst part? You start negotiating with yourself. “I’ll just do 30 minutes today.” Then, at 25 minutes, you say, “Eh, maybe 28 is fine.” Then you get off at 27:32, muttering about how time is a flat circle and you hate everything.

3. It’s a Sweat Fest

Outside, you’ve got wind. Sweet, beautiful wind that cools you down and stops you from becoming a human waterfall.

Inside? You are the Niagara Falls of human suffering. Even with a fan on full blast, you’re still drowning in your own sweat. It drips onto the floor. The bike. Your soul. Your socks turn into sponges. Your shoes are little pools of regret.

And no, getting one of those fancy “smart” fans that simulates wind speed based on your pace doesn’t fix it. You’re still pedaling in a sauna of your own making.

4. There’s No Coasting

Outside, you climb a hill, you suffer, you crest the top, and then—sweet relief. You coast. You let the bike glide. You take a deep breath. You feel alive.

On a trainer? No coasting. No free miles. You stop pedaling, and the bike stops moving. It’s just an endless grind of constant effort, like being on a treadmill, but somehow worse because at least runners can step off and pretend they’re stretching.

5. The Setup is a Pain

Riding outside: Put on your kit, grab your bike, roll out the door.

Riding on a trainer:

1. Set up the bike.
2. Adjust the resistance.
3. Connect the sensors.
4. Start Zwift (or whatever training app you use).
5. Realize Bluetooth isn’t working.
6. Reconnect Bluetooth.
7. Adjust your fan.
8. Find your towel.
9. Open Netflix but remember you need subtitles because you can’t hear over the trainer.
10. Finally start pedaling.

By the time you actually begin, you already want to quit.

6. It Feels Like a Chore, Not a Ride

Cycling outside is freedom. The wind in your face, the changing scenery, the feeling that you could just keep going and end up in another town, another city, another state.

Cycling on a trainer is… a workout. A gym session. A task to be checked off. It’s not an adventure. It’s a responsibility. Like brushing your teeth or paying your taxes.

Sure, you can make it better with a movie or a podcast. But at the end of the day, you’re still staring at a screen, counting the seconds, trying to convince yourself this is fun.

7. You’re Still Inside

At the heart of it, that’s the real reason trainers suck. You’re indoors. In a room. Probably in your basement, garage, or whatever tiny space you managed to carve out.

Outside, the sun hits your face, the wind rushes past, and the world stretches endlessly in all directions. Inside, you’re trapped between four walls, spinning in place like a hamster on a wheel.

No matter how high-tech your setup is, it’s still just that—a setup. Not a ride.

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The Trainer Experience: A Summary

Reason	Why It Sucks
Boring	No scenery, no random events, just you and a screen.
Time Warps	Five minutes feel like five years.
So. Much. Sweat.	You become a human puddle.
No Coasting	Every second is effort. No breaks, no relief.
Setup is a Nightmare	It takes forever just to start.
Feels Like a Chore	It’s a workout, not a ride.
You’re Still Inside	No fresh air, no open roads, just walls.

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Conclusion: The Existential Crisis of the Indoor Cyclist

Riding on a trainer is like drinking decaf coffee or eating sugar-free chocolate. It’s a sad imitation of the real thing. It keeps you going, but deep down, you know something is missing.

But we do it anyway. We sweat. We suffer. We stare at the wall. Because when spring comes, when the roads are dry and the sun is out, we’ll be ready.

And that’s the real joke, isn’t it? We ride trainers because we love riding outside. We hate it, but we do it anyway.

So go ahead. Suffer. Sweat. Stare at that screen.

Just don’t forget—spring is coming.