Why Moving Your Cleats Back Often Works Better Than You’ve Been Told

Most cyclists who’ve had a bike fit have heard some version of the same rule: Place the cleat so the pedal axle sits under the ball of the foot.

It sounds anatomical. It sounds intuitive. And it sounds “correct” because it borrows from how humans walk. The problem is that cycling is not walking. And treating it as such creates unnecessary work—especially for the calves, the ankle, and the entire posterior chain.

Crank length and joint loading

The Walking Model That Refuses to Die

The idea of aligning the pedal axle with the metatarsal heads comes from gait analysis in biomechanics laboratories. Actually, it mostly comes from an Italian shoe manufacturer when clipless pedals were introduced, but I digress. In walking and running, the forefoot acts as a lever. The ankle plantarflexes, the calf complex generates propulsion, and force is driven into the ground. The foot rolls forward over the toes, and connective tissue tension within the foot–ankle complex reinforces rigidity to support push-off as the body moves over a fixed surface.

That model makes sense when the foot is repeatedly leaving the ground and the objective is to propel the body forward by reacting against it. Cycling is fundamentally different.

In cycling, the foot is constrained to the pedal and never leaves it. Force is not being pushed into the ground; it is being directed into a rotating crank. The task is not merely to generate propulsion through ankle, knee and hip extension, but to transmit force as effectively as possible into the drivetrain while minimizing unnecessary muscular work. Rather than a closed-chain push-off in walking, cycling is an open-chain, cyclic force application problem where stability and force direction matter more than distal leverage. And before anybody gets bent out of shape, gait is often considered both open and closed-chain, depending on the phase within the gait cycle - I merely offer a reasonable explanation to establish an understanding for most readers.

When we apply a walking-based model to a constrained task like pedaling, we ask the wrong tissues to do the wrong job—and we pay for it in fatigue, inefficiency, and unnecessary load at the ankle and calf. And potentially the nervous system.

Position as a whole-system problem

What Actually Changes When Cleats Move Rearward

Moving the cleat rearward shortens the lever arm between the pedal axle and the ankle joint. That single change quietly reshapes the entire task. From a mechanical perspective, it reduces the ankle moment required to transmit the same pedal force. From a biological perspective, it changes who is doing the work.

In my master’s research, we found that rearward cleat placement reduced the demand on the soleus and gastrocnemius—not by eliminating their contribution, but by changing it. Instead of acting primarily as force generators, the calf complex shifted toward a stabilizing and force-directing role. More of the work was carried proximally by the knee and hip extensors (including, importantly, increased contributions of the hamstrings), where larger muscles are better suited to sustained force production.

Riders often describe this shift intuitively before they can name it: less calf fatigue, smoother pressure through the stroke, and a greater sense that power is coming from “higher up” the leg. They’re not imagining it.

Why This Matters for Real Riders, Not Just Models

When cleats are placed far forward, the ankle is asked to manage higher moments throughout the pedal cycle. Over time, that increases demand on the plantarflexors, raises local fatigue, and often encourages excessive ankle motion as the nervous system searches for relief. As an exercise, approach a set of stairs and put one foot on the edge of the stair underneath the first metatarsal head. Put the other foot on the stair just behind the 5th metatarsal. Now do a ⅓ squat and feel where the force is required to support yourself. You can make it more obvious by doing the same thing, one leg at a time.  The farther forward the pressure is located, the more force is directed through the knee and ankle. The farther rearward, the more the force is transferred through the hip. 

Moving the cleats rearward reduces that demand. The ankle becomes quieter. Force application becomes less sensitive to small timing errors. And the entire system becomes more tolerant of fatigue.

A longtime fit “friend” and colleague of mine, Steve Hogg, has been arguing this point for years, noting that rearward cleat placement allows the calves to contribute more effectively in concert with the hamstrings during leg extension, rather than being overworked trying to control the ankle independently. We both explored this topic around 2006. And I was able to quantify this rationale in a lab at the University of Georgia in 2009. 

This isn’t about pedaling “circles” or fixing technique. It’s about distributing work to tissues that are structurally and metabolically better suited for it.

Resisting hip flexor dominance

Why So Many Fitters Resist Moving Cleats Back

Part of the resistance is tradition. Part of it is fear of deviating from what looks anatomically or aesthetically neat. And part of it is practical: many shoes simply don’t allow enough rearward adjustment to explore this space properly.

There’s also a persistent misconception that rearward cleats reduce leverage and therefore reduce power. In practice, average power is rarely compromised and most often, improves it. What changes is cost—the internal effort required to sustain that power.

As with crank length, the lab may show neutrality in output. The rider feels the difference in fatigue, comfort, and repeatability.

Cycling Is Not a Calf-Dominant Task

The calf muscles are brilliant at elastic energy storage and rapid force modulation. They are not ideal primary engines for sustained, repetitive power production.

Rearward cleat placement acknowledges this reality. It doesn’t eliminate ankle function; it puts it in its proper role. The result is often a pedal stroke that feels calmer, more stable, and less fragile under fatigue.

For many riders—especially those prone to calf tightness, Achilles irritation, or foot numbness—this single change can be more transformative than any exotic shoe, pedal, or insole.

Closing

Cleat placement based on the ball of the foot is a walking solution applied to a cycling problem. When we stop pretending those tasks are the same, better options emerge. Moving cleats rearward doesn’t make cyclists weaker. It often makes them more economical, more durable, and easier to fit. Like many effective changes in cycling, it isn’t flashy. It just works—quietly, consistently, and for reasons the body understands even when tradition does not.

So when we tell you (read: ask) we’re about to Dremel your shoes for a more rearward cleat location, fear not…we’ve done it countless times before. Seriously, we would never permanently alter someones beautiful shoes….without approval ;)