Patience

The mountain does not wait for your form to return.

It’s been about a month since I’ve last been on the bike; I can’t recall the last time I went for such a dry spell. The reasons don’t matter; life and work have been hectic, I moved, the bikes were just out of order and inaccessible enough to make it easy to find an excuse not to kit up and head out onto the roads. And, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t really want to ride.

It happens every so often, this strange desire not to ride. It’s different from the usual one where you don’t really want to go out on any particular day; this is has more to do with burnout than laziness. I’ve learned to wait it out; the desire always comes back, organically and strongly. And come back it did, although it did take a bit longer than I expected.

With coming back to the bike after a while off always looms a long shadow of dread. My legs are soft; I feel it in every step I take. Running up the stairs, my body doesn’t feel as springy and I know that springiness will translate to lethargy on the bike. Out on the bike, I labor with the gradient; the ease with which I once scaled the local climbs hangs in my memory like a dream whose details vanish the more you try to call them into focussed thought.

To prepare myself mentally for the first ride back, I did what every sensible person does: I poured myself a beer, tidied up the bike room, and set about meticulously cleaning my bikes in order to preemptively remove any opportunity for those being an excuse. The bike itself needs to be in perfect working order lest my mind should fixate on the slightest malfunction or noise and descend into a Millarcopter-inducing fit of rage.

Patience will be my mantra for the coming months, patience. I will not push myself too much, I will let the joy of the ride envelop me. Within a few weeks, a shadow of something resembling strength will take shape in my muscles, and it will spur me on to ride more. Eventually, the power will return and the memories of this drought will take their place in the catacombs of my mind.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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RobSandy says:

Dec 15 2016 at 1:46 am

@RobSandy

Holy shit what's wrong with my writing today?
Randy C says:

Dec 15 2016 at 6:15 am

@ChrisO

As I get older I fear that if I stop for long it will be too hard to start again.

Precisely what can happen. I can speak of that experience this year. BUT, that's when interest in race directing and coaching increases! Cheers
Ron says:

Dec 15 2016 at 8:59 am

@Teocalli

@Ron

Sonny, you plain ain’t old ! (Insert optional random punctuation keys here).

The benefit I have of losing some of whatever Summer fitness I had is that I found at the weekend that my main riding buddy is in even worse shape.

Ha, I know! One upside of having a newborn is you're too crazed, busy, and sleep-deprived to reflect on any existential matters.
Buck Rogers says:

Dec 15 2016 at 9:44 am

Holy Shit, Batman! That lead photo seems so Nazi to me (maybe it is the local German influence???) but damn that is great. Is it a Rouleur image?

As for "Running up the stairs, my body doesn’t feel as springy and I know that springiness will translate to lethargy on the bike", I am the opposite. If I feel springy on the stairs, I know that I have not been riding hard enough lately as normally my legs are dead and a bit burny when climbing stairs but if I have not been riding, they feel fresh on the stairs.

(and welcome back, Mate! You've been missed!)
BacklashJack says:

Dec 15 2016 at 9:58 am

So, I'm not alone in being crazy busy in December and neglecting my form? Woo hoo!
ChrisO says:

Dec 15 2016 at 2:59 pm

@BacklashJack

So, I’m not alone in being crazy busy in December and neglecting my form? Woo hoo!

Funnily enough I've just been thinking I need to build in a bit of neglect.

My PMC has been going along nicely but I need a bit of a dip now and then or it isn't sustainable.
RobSandy says:

Dec 16 2016 at 1:23 am

@Ron

@Teocalli

@Ron

Sonny, you plain ain’t old ! (Insert optional random punctuation keys here).

The benefit I have of losing some of whatever Summer fitness I had is that I found at the weekend that my main riding buddy is in even worse shape.

Ha, I know! One upside of having a newborn is you’re too crazed, busy, and sleep-deprived to reflect on any existential matters.

I think the plea for patience applies to your situation equally as well, Ron. They don't stay tiny very long in the scheme of things, and you'll find your way back to 'normal' pretty quick. Of course it'll be a different 'normal' than before, inevitably with less time for yourself.

If it's any encouragement I've got a 5 year old and I've been riding an average of 6-7 hours a week since he was coming up 4. I just fit the hours in unusual times (i.e. long rides on the weekend are out, extended early morning commutes are in). It can be done. And your kids are more important than cycling anyway. Emoticon.
Cary says:

Dec 16 2016 at 4:34 am

@KlamSoss

These short days darken. Relocating darkens. Social and romantic discontent darkens. The impending death of a loyal companion darkens.

Depression is a lot like The Man With The Hammer, for some of us. You can do a lot to stave it off. You can go months without being smashed. You can train yourself into form to avoid being smashed. You can do all of these things, but he and his Hammer will always lurk nearby; and so too does the darkness of depression. When the time comes, the darkness WILL fall, just like The Hammer.

I had a bike a while back, but it wasn’t until I needed an outlet three years ago after a terrible breakup that I fell in love with riding. Seeking The Man With The Hammer became a way of life. Feeling the blow of that Hammer became therapeutic for me, as the pain of utter exhaustion was nearly the only thing that could drown the pain of depression for me. Riding was like cranking a dynamo, feeding the light bulb that was, and is my life. The more and harder I rode, the brighter things got. I met friends. I developed new goals; new dreams. I pedaled through the darkness that comes before the dawn and rode my way into the glorious (if occasionally rainy) day that has been the last 2 years.

And then came the sunset. A sunset as beautiful as could ever be imagined. Painted on the background of a long-needed move, an escape, really, from living somewhere I did not like. The sunset, A masterpiece, highlighted with the vibrant rays of a beautiful but fleeting romance… a romance as brilliant and fleeting as the pinks, purples, azures and oranges that spill across the sky as the sun sinks towards the western horizon. And tinged with the dark knowledge that my best friend and most loyal partner is being consumed by cancer.

The sun’s last rays fade, like that romance has and like Buddy’s life soon will, leaving the cold reality of life shrouded in darkness.

It is night. A dog can never be replaced. A woman may never be forgotten. What was, may never again be. But I know the way towards the light is on the bike. I know that Rule #6 can work in reverse.

So yes, ‘Patience’ will be the mantra for the coming months. I too, will experience a shadow of something resembling strength begin to take shape in my muscles and in my heart, and it will spur me on to ride more. And yes, eventually, the power will return and the memories of this darkness will take their place in the catacombs of my mind as a new day dawns.

this is quite a piece of writing. my best to you in this difficult time. this resonates with me. i lost my little buddy yesterday morning to a brain tumor. he had a great life.
SamV says:

Dec 16 2016 at 5:35 am

@RobSandy

@SamV

How to balance embracing the burnout with the desire to improve though? I’ve got goals for next year.

By accident and the way the racing calendar works, for the past two seasons I’ve planned my first peak to before the first races and TT’s of the season. This has three effects:

1. Base miles are done at the end of the summer and in the autumn when it is pleasant to long rides.

2. Intensity ramps up/volume goes down through the winter meaning that when I’m out on the road I have a distinct goal.

3. The turbo becomes more important in building form and I don’t begrudge the time on it when its dark and the weather is crap (which I would if it were the summer).

After the early season races I plan to ease off for a bit, then build up again for another peak towards the end of the season.

Thanks Rob! Interesting that it's almost the inverse of what I'd expect, but it makes sense if I think about it, especially points 2 and 3. What I'm having a hard time with is just getting motivated to get on the turbo. Broadly, my goal is to do low-volume, high intensity sessions through January, easing off volume slightly in February, bringing it back up in March and starting to mingle in more road rides the closer we get to spring. I'm only planning on doing one race this year (end of July), but I'd like to do it well.

You're welcome to critique my "training plan," but that's not what I'm after. My woe is a tale of two competing desires and the reconciliation thereof: replenishing the depleted wells of discipline and self-control versus finding the fortitude to put in the work to become a faster rider.

@Cary Damn. Sorry for your loss.
Buck Rogers says:

Dec 16 2016 at 5:42 am

@Cary

So sorry for your loss. I hope that you can find peace in the coming weeks. These partings are always so hard and esp so during the Holiday season.