The illusion of transparency is perhaps the most important tool the Velominatus has in their toolbox, apart from having some measure of competence, being Casually Deliberate at all times, Looking Fantastic, and being able to dish out and endure heaping helpings of The V.
Cycling is suffering, and one of the most crucial lessons we have to learn is that we are rarely the only one who hurts. When the pressure is on or the group is heading uphill, every rider in the bunch is dying a thousand silent deaths. The rider on the front, while doing the most work, does enjoy a slight psychological advantage of being responsible for the pain disbursements, but they are suffering perhaps more than anyone else. Because everyone is momentarily cohabiting in the hurt locker, those riders who are best able to give the impression that they are in fact at ease maintain a distinct advantage over the others; there is nothing more demoralizing than feeling like a pig on a spit while the rider next to you is smiling and talking about the amazing view.
It turns out that as a species, we are really bad at judging other people’s emotions by their facial expressions, and generally over-estimate how good we are at it. In other words, everyone has a poker face and everyone sucks at reading them them. This plays into our advantage as Cyclists because it means it’s not all that hard to hide your suffering from other riders or, in fact, make them believe you’re suffering even when you’re not.
The most common tactic in this area is to keep your facial expression neutral and your pedaling smooth and relaxed despite how hard you’re pushing yourself. This takes lots of practice, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes second nature. Another tactic is to look about the bunch casually, take in the scenery, or futz about with your kit; this builds the impression that you are so completely at ease that you are distracted from the heavy work at hand.
My favorite approach is to engage in casual conversation during the hardest parts of a climb. There is a real art to this, because all that talking will get in the way of the most important element of climbing: your breathing. But you can work around that problem by being the one driving the conversation; you can choose your words to make sure they are short so you can continue to breath even as you’re speaking. The best thing to do is to fake an interest in the rider personally and ask them loads of questions. Seduced by the opportunity to talk about themselves, their ego will step in and force them to answer your questions at length, sending them into a spiral of accelerated hypoxic fatigue. It’s all bollocks, of course – you could give two shits about where they went to school or what their view is on the protests in Kiev – but they won’t catch on because they suck at reading your facial expressions while you carefully regulate your breathing and prepare to drop them. At which point you feign surprise that the pace was high enough to cause any damage.
Its gotten to the point where I don’t even realize I’m doing it. The more I’m suffering, the more likely I’ll be to strike up a conversation. And, should my Too Fat To Climb ass be successful in somehow dropping my companions, I’ll gulp in air like a rabid monkey at the top to make sure I’ve fully caught my breath by the time they catch back up so I can make idle conversation about how nice that climb is and how much I love that road and its so amazing that when I moved here I thought that was a tough climb but now I hardly even notice it and I’ll probably install a 42T because the 39T just feels so small.
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One of the more satisfying moments during my Italian trip last year was being politely asked to "Stop fucking talking" as the gradient started to bite.
I imagine if you still have it in the big ring and are braking for the hairpins, any further demonstration of capability is considered ostentatious.
@Optimiste
True, some people are especially keen on telling you all about themselves, so a few brief, well place questions to get them started is a quite the craft I'm must learn.
The other part of this is how to pass people on climbs when you aren't riding with them. Obviously once you pass someone you must actually die and fall off the bike before you let them pass them again.
Part one of this is how you pass them. Either you sit back, get your HR down, then fly past and get a gap, or you pass them slowly, with a cheerful "how's it going" as you go past.
Once you are past, then you need to look relaxed and calm. This is where the smooth pedalling comes in. Short of a heart attack one must keep that smooth pedalling going.
The biggest problem is looking back. Clearly actually looking over your shoulder is a sign of weakness (unless maybe you do it COHO style). I'm pretty sure this is why hairpins were invented - that way you can casually glance over and see how your vanquished (?) opponent is going as you go around.
I got dropped by a guy in cutoff jeans riding a fixie last week. My only consolation was that we passed a lot of other cyclists before I blew up. Full credit to him - he might have broken every Rule, but the V was strong in him.
It's my "indoctrination into hating people experience" that people generally only listen to one thing while your talking to them, or someone near them. They are listening for you to take a breath, because they have already composed their next thought, and are only listening for you to breathe or pause so they can take over. They have no interest in adding depth or complexity to your conversation, they just want to be the one talking instead of you.
I am going to go out today and practice my enabling....
@VeloSix
Damn stupid phone and autocorrect!!
@The Grande Fondue
There is balance in the world. While in Austin, TX (how the hell did Austin become part of Texas?) I saw all hipsters and only one cyclist.
I watched as a fully decked out in his hippie best, get off his fixie to push it up the small hill downtown going under an overpass. One would think you could carry enough speed coming down the other side to at least coast halfway up the next side.
Nope, I'm a fucking pussy, I will push this up the other side. Or maybe he didn't want to mess up his 50's rock-a-billy hair style....
A couple of seasons ago I thought I'd ramp up my casually deliberate coolness quotient. While passing another rider on a 14% grade I quipped, pain is only temporary. [I know...not even clever, never mind original] I blew up 200 meters further up the road. When he passed me he didn't say a word. The silence was deafening. Since then, I keep my pie hole shut unless I have something to say.
@gregorio
Schadenfreude... finest word in the English language.