Learning to ride a bike can be your first taste of freedom. Suddenly, the world beyond your front door opens up, ready to be explored on two wheels.

　　But for Marley Blonsky it wasn’t that simple. Back when she was eight years old, trying to ride with her older sister and her friends, she was told she was too slow. “I always wanted to be part of the club,” she says. “It felt like something I was constantly striving for and not really accomplishing.”

　　As an adult, Blonsky, 38, faced similar barriers—and some new ones she hadn’t anticipated. She found that the weight limits on most road bikes were too low for her; her rides were hampered by broken spokes and cracked saddle rails. Most cycling-apparel brands had limited sizing, so she struggled to find comfortable jerseys and bibs. On group rides, she felt that familiar sensation of being left behind.

　　So she did something about it. In 2021, along with Kailey Kornhauser, Blonsky founded All Bodies on Bikes, a club that welcomes riders regardless of their size, gender, race, or ability. Over the past three years, the group has expanded to ten chapters, with plans to add nearly 30 more by 2027. Each chapter is encouraged to organize rides, collaborate with other bike-advocacy organizations in its area, and host events like gear swaps and fix-a-flat clinics. “We don’t care why you’re riding a bike,” she says. “We just want to empower you to do it joyfully.”

　　In 2024, All Bodies on Bikes led several bike-camping trips (the one hosted by the Kansas City chapter had 50 riders) and cohosted the biggest finish-line party in gravel cycling: the DFL party (for Dead Fucking Last) at MidSouth Gravel. Looking forward, the organization’s strategic plan includes establishing industry standards for weight limits on bikes and components, pushing brands to represent a greater range of sizes in their advertising, and creating a retail certification for bike shops to let would-be clients know that “this shop is knowledgeable in working with customers of size and will treat you with dignity and respect,” Blonsky says.

　　By creating a cycling community that embraces people of all shapes and sizes, Blonsky has made what can be an intimidating sport more approachable for new riders. She regularly receives messages from people about how meaningful it is to see a diversity of bodies represented in cycling. After years of feeling excluded, the self-identified fat cyclist has found power in throwing open the gates.

　　“It doesn’t feel like what we’re doing is that radical,” she says. “To slow down a little bit, to see folks and meet them where they’re at, it shouldn’t be that incredible of a thing. But it is.”