Rober Millar goes deep into the Pain Cave.

No words survive here, only echoes. Echoes of our hopes, of our plans, of our failures. What we thought we might do when we came here is little more than a shadow; it flickers on the walls for a moment and when we turn to look, it is gone. Doubts swell up and bounce off the walls until they become so loud they can no longer be heard.

Once we’ve entered, we can not return the way we came; the only way out is to descend into the darkness and through to the other side. When we emerge, we will breathe a new life, one where we are able to push a bit harder, and suffer a bit more. It is a better world, one with opportunity. One where we can make things happen because we have discovered a new limit of our will.

Pushing deeper into The Cave is learned over time. When we first enter, we will find ourselves in a small cavern with no apparent exit. As we train and explore its darkest corners, we discover a passage. We gather our courage and slip into a larger, darker cavern to explore. Beyond that, there lies another. Each holds its own unique strain of suffering, but with it comes also a degree of control; the choice to enter is ours and ours alone.

When I’m strong, my mind yearns for the cleansing qualities of The Cave. I feel almost the master of my pain, that I command its ebbs and flows. Even on days that don’t require it, I will hurt myself just to prove I can. When I’m chasing my fitness, however, I approach it with the same reluctance I had as a child when made to eat my vegetables. The suffering flows over me in waves and I am at the mercy of its current.

My training this summer has been erratic and unstructured. I’ve had some great periods, and just as I’ve neared a goal, either illness or travel unexpectedly reared up before me and interrupted my progress. A week away from the bike means another two weeks before I find myself back to where I was. Two weeks of drifting like a leaf in the current. Two weeks of knowing what lies beyond, unable to reach it.

Then the breakthrough, and into the next cavern. It is only through contemplating the darkest corners of The Cave that we discover its deepest passages and it is within the deepest passages that we may discover our purest selves.

Have courage and follow the path into The Cave. Vive la Vie Velominatus.

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.

View Comments

  • @wiscot

    @Chris

    @unversio

    @frank

    This guy is in a dark place, with no flashlight. Via our mate at BigRingRiding.

    This guy makes me suspect that Angus Young used to road race.

    Gary Busey was another batshit fast tester.

    That's Ian Cammish riding for the mighty Manchester Wheelers, probably around 1988. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Cammish Note the drilled, tape-less bars. This is worth a read and look at the personal best stats, utterly astounding.http://www.veloveritas.co.uk/2012/12/19/ian-cammish-interview/ Gary Busey, is, his one role as Buddy Holly aside, a fucking pathetic waster.

    Ian is a legend. He won 9 Best British Amateur titles in the 80's - an average speed compiled from your seasons best 25 mile, 50 mile and 12 hour times. 100 miles in 3.38:39 in 1981 - 45kph on a drop bar bike? His website has some interesting titbits especiallly his crack at Obree's amateur hour record and his trip to LA  for the Olympics.

    He's still ridiculously fast.

    Ian coached me for the best part of 18 months. I had to give it up because I couldn't put the time in to make it worthwhile. I had to cancel too many training rides as a result of work. Every ride with him hurt, a lot.

  • @Chris Thanks for the link! That's going to be a trip down memory lane for sure. I was never crazy enough to do a 12 hour TT. They only held a few in Scotland every year.

    LOVE the picture of Wells. Fag-paper clearances on a fastback frame, single big ring, bar end shifter. No socks, just leather shoes. Straight-through block. 2/3 tape job on the bars with cloth tape. Those are probably silk tubs too. Pure stripped-down speed - for 12 friggin hours!

  • I sure wish the Grand Tours would stop being so climber-oriented. Bring back the 100 + km time trials of yesteryear I say! That'll sort out the standings good and proper.

  • @Buck Rogers

    When was this photo taken? I did not think that Merlin's were that old. This looks like an OLD pic.

    I'm guessing there was a UK Merlin brand distinct from the well known US titanium brand.

  • I feel as though I have just entered the Cave. I started riding hard a couple weeks ago. I have only just begun to explore to deeper depths. The possibilities of the cave are endless. The different trails that we choose to follow determine what becomes of our future. Some may enter and loop around to find the exit again. Others shall follow in the Prophets sacred path and find true meaning. It is the way we go and the changes we endure that determine who we are.

  • Are seriously going to discuss "the cave" without posting this glorious (over posted) image?

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