Sometimes you're the joker, sometimes you're the joked.
As Tyler Farrar rode by in the other direction, we gave each other a subtle wave; not the wave between friends, but between brothers of the road. On another day, I might have turned around and chased him down, like the first time I’d seen him riding locally. Not so much to bother him or to ride with him, but just to say I’d chased down Tyler Farrar. Not everyone can say that, you know.
But the legs had been missing for days. Weeks, even. It had already been a dark several weeks and there was no end in sight. It wasn’t the weather that was dark, but the form. They can be such cruel things, The Legs. The Legs tend to tell us within a revolution whether we’ll have a good day or not, and every ride I’d been on lately, they spoke only of toilets. On the rare occasion that I would join the Hedrick group rides, I was relegated to riding the wheels or wallowing at the back. On one occasion, I was even the rider who rolled up after the climb as the others waited. I wait at the top of the climb, not the other way around.
It is a cycle that feeds into itself; I was training a little less than usual, but not significantly. Certainly not enough to justify the lack of form. But the bad form was not motivating me to work any harder than I was and it made it very easy to find excuses not to ride. Not training harder means the form slips a bit more every week and before very long, you’re the guy the other riders are waiting for.
Then four days away to visit my parents; we worked long days on the farm but it was only the last two days that we carved out time to ride and even then it was just an hour of the three of us enjoying the moment and being grateful for the time together on two wheels. When I came home, work was waiting and so was my personal life which was all too tempting to indulge in, which I did.
Then the itch came. It started with small things, like noticing that my legs didn’t feel as supple when I walked to work in the morning. Or that my bounds up the stairs didn’t feel as fluid as they normally did. And then I started to miss it. Seven days I counted, seven days off the bike. For the first time since November, by my loose guesstimation.
But it wasn’t just my legs that felt different; my whole body was suffering and so was my mind. It was Monday when I realized I actually wanted to ride again. But it was impossible; too many balls in the air. Tuesday: the same. Today, I was determined to get out, but I was apprehensive of how it would feel to be back on the bike knowing how it feels to ride when you’ve missed a block.
I’ve rarely felt so good on a bike as I did today. I don’t know whether it was the enthusiasm of feeling that sensation of flight as you hover a meter or so above the ground or the rest my body had probably been begging me to give it, but I couldn’t keep myself from pushing harder on the pedals. In anticipation of a first ride back, I chose an easy route. But then I found myself pushing the pace and pointing my front wheel up the various little “bonus” climbs that lay dotted along the route of almost any ride in Seattle.
I can’t wait to climb back on my bike tomorrow. Can’t. Wait.
Be patient, listen to the signals your body is sending. Learn to distinguish between “good” not wanting to ride and “bad” not wanting to ride. And cherish that feeling of childish enthusiasm that awaits when you climb once again upon the bicycle and feel the freedom that pushing on the pedals gives us.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
I've been there before, not wanting to even look at a bike. Coming home after riding a 1200km Grand Randonee and not unpacking my bike for a couple of weeks.
Another time, following a strange wheel in the midst of a group of regulars but going down hard. Surgery for me and the bike. Over a year before I was comfortable again riding with people I don't know.
But wheels want to roll, and the familiar sensations come back.
They say that time heals all things,
they say you can always forget;
but the smiles and the tears across the years
they twist my heartstrings yet.
-- George Orwell, 1984
@Sparty @Neil
Interesting stuff. I've been suffering from IT band pain for the last 5 weeks. At first it was from running (I was running away from lightning on a mountain top... does that still count as rule breaking?) It started up after a week on the couch with a violent stomach bug, so my glutes essentially went MIA and then the first day I felt okay I went for a 10 hour trail run. The interesting thing that I've been reading up on is that a big part of what your glutes do is keep your pelvis stable. I've been paying more attention to what happens when I'm out of the saddle and my pelvis does rock side to side. I'm trying to see if keeping more stable will help. It's taking a lot of concentration right now, but hopefully it gets easier.
I also notice that I'm hunched over a bit even when out of the saddle. I tried straightening my back and tilting my pelvis forward a bit and it seems to work my glutes more. I'm not sure if any of this is going to help, but it seems to be so far... only time will tell.
As a total noob to this site (first day today) and a general noob in the world of cycling (31, fat, hairy, out of shape) I find myself drawing similarities with this article. I have been riding for two years, and everyday it felt as though I was slower, form was worse and a general hatred to even get on the Steed. Then, within seconds of finishing, I long to be on her, once again. I never feel like I improve but in the last 3 months something has changed. I have become addicted. I fall asleep reading Rouleur. I wake at 4.30am just to hate seeing her. I read these articles, The Rules. I am obsessed. I cant focus on anything but being on my bike. I don't care how slow I am or how fit I am, all I know is that in the last 2 years of pain and suffering it is starting to all make sense to me. I dont notice the change in fitness until I am chasing my kid or running up stairs. I dont notice the joy in my life until I imagine the feeling of fresh air, watching the sun rise while trying my hardest to maintain 30kmh. I have spent all morning reading as much as I can on this site and I now get it, the feeling I have we all have. A small hat tip, a nudge of the fingers when giving it everything, its not about me, or biking or you, its about all of this. I guess what I am trying to say is thank you. Thank you for providing a place where I feel like I belong. Where others inspire and drive to inspire through action and word. Where I can feel completely incapable at something and know that, at some point, everyone here on this site has or currently does feel the same way. Thank you.
@David Moore
What he said.
Welcome, David.
@David Moore
What @RobSandy said.
Plus to add to that you've found this site. You are now completely buggered.
Welcome.