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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View Comments

Ubermonkey says:

Dec 13 2016 at 6:58 pm

@KlamSoss

I see you, "Klam". Raising a non-ABI beverage in Buddy's honor tonight, and sending happy beams from Houston,
Brian Kelly says:

Dec 13 2016 at 7:06 pm

@universo

A cyclist and a Lego enthusiast, you're the best sort of person.
DCR says:

Dec 13 2016 at 9:57 pm

I recently took time away from the bike as I moved from New Mexico to southern California for my job. It took two months out of what had been a great year of riding for me. From July to September I stared at boxes of cardboard, always putting off the inevitable reassembly after a long move. I do have to say that after two great days in the hills and mountains around northern Los Angeles in the middle of December those two months are not so sad a loss. I still cannot understand riding in December with nothing more than arm warmers and a forecast of 60 degree days and sunshine. I don't think "winter base miles" exists here.
KogaLover says:

Dec 13 2016 at 11:58 pm

@KlamSoss

Another guest contributor in the making!
KogaLover says:

Dec 14 2016 at 1:27 am

@Frank must have spilled some espresso or ale on this picture from Pellos? You can still get them for 20 GBP, get your clean copy here: http://galibier.cc/product/revenge-mountain-fine-screen-print/
Joe Bloggs says:

Dec 14 2016 at 2:15 am

@DCR

Arm warmers, in the 60's? (BTW can't we go continental on temps too?) Round these parts that would be short sleeves, and guns out probably getting a Flemish Tan!
RobSandy says:

Dec 14 2016 at 2:31 am

Patience, yes. Patience is key. Preparing for the early season races I know I must be patiently training in accordance with my plan. I'm not racing yet, so performance doesn't matter, just the intensity of effort. High when needed, low when planned.

However, the regular base miles to and from work and the efforts at the velodrome are starting to pay off; I can feel it. I can feel that my legs have the capacity to ramp up the power, and kick...and kick again. A couple more months of effort and, with patience, full form will come.
fignons barber says:

Dec 14 2016 at 5:47 am

@Frank,

Not to worry. Indurain never did a thing except eat and nap from his season ending race until December 1. On that day he would ride 50km, at a pedestrian pace. That would kick off his methodical build to Le Tour. That is patience. You have hope, Dusseldorf is still 7 months away.
Ron says:

Dec 14 2016 at 7:38 am

Holy cannoli, I needed that! Just last weekend, after doing some cross riding and realizing I'm horribly out of shape, I found myself wondering if I'd lost my love of cycling. Will it come back? What is wrong with me? Will I ever enjoy 3 hour road rides again? What in the hell am I going to do with all these damn bikes and clothes and lights and helmets and shoes and tools?

I sincerely mean it that it's comforting to know other Followers & Founders are going through, or have gone through, these spells. Considering that cycling has given a lot of meaning, fun, focus, fitness, mindfulness, and happiness to my life in the last 14 years, which is when I began avidly riding, I absolutely cannot imagine my life without it. And, to be honest, I really felt an inner sense of fear when I started questioning if I'd lost the love.

I haven't had the time to ride lately, not with a 7 month old in our hands. My form is awful, so it makes riding that much less fun. It's harder, when it used to be easy. Then I took five weeks off from twice-weekly soccer to let an injury heal. Losing both forms of movement crippled my fitness level.

I'm at a new place in my life, both with a newborn and a career transition. Patience is a virtue I lack, but I think now is a time in my life to really work on finding this.

Thank you Frank & others for the inspiring words. I don't feel as alone, as fearful, or as desperate. I already feel the cloud of questioning lifting.
Ron says:

Dec 14 2016 at 7:44 am

@ChrisO

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

Just in the last few months I've started to feel old. Maybe it's having our first child and that feeling/reality of more responsibility and living not just for yourself anymore. But, beyond the mental change, I'm definitely noticing changes in my body and athletic ability. I can no longer drink and eat without much consideration and then go tap out a century or run for 90 minutes.

Oh well, it's high time to take better care of myself and be a bit more mindful.