The chiselled guns of a Cyclist
Being away from the bike is agony. Even for the day, while I’m at work, my mind swims about, thinking about my next ride. I worry that I won’t be home early enough to get the ride in that I’d planned – or worse yet – ride at all. I agonize over my decision not to ride in the morning, or to work, hoping one missed day doesn’t turn into two doesn’t turn into a week.
I wonder at which bike I’ll choose; I can visualize them hanging there, in the workshop, quietly waiting to be set free from their prison – a bike is only free when it’s being ridden. I imagine they discuss among themselves which is entitled to be ridden next; they might even place wagers on which will be the lucky one. I’m not sure with what bicycles might place wagers, perhaps a bit of grease for a creaking quick-release that I haven’t noticed yet.
All day, I evaluate how my body feels. Sitting folded up at a desk is a horrible place to judge one’s weight; I’ll lean against the desk’s edge and wonder if there was less of me touching it yesterday. I’ll feel the muscles in my thighs as I cross my legs in a conference room, and judge whether they feel stronger than the day before. Sometimes I’ll feel for the fibers in my muscles with my fingertips and then realize that the other people in the room with me probably find it odd that I’m rubbing my legs absentmindedly. To be fair, I find it odd that they don’t know what it feels like to be in shape.
It is a mystery whether I’ll be strong on the bike today or not. At the office, there is no way to know how I will feel; I won’t really know until I put in a real effort, which usually happens on the first climb of the day. Strength is a strange thing; the other day I felt blocked during my warmup but hit the top corner of the first climb so fast I almost lost my front wheel. Almost losing your front wheel in a corner on a climb is a special feeling.
Tim Krabbé wrote, “Non-riders. The emptiness of those lives shocks me.” Indeed; we are Cyclists, the rest of the world merely rides a bike.
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’ll feel the muscles in my thighs as I cross my legs in a conference room, and judge whether they feel stronger than the day before."
Me: "are my trousers around my calves and thighs tighter than before?"
I've decided to Train Properly to be in as good a shape as I can be for next Springs TT's and crits, so have made a concerted effort to fit in a ride on my way to work more often. This entails arriving in bibshorts. I realise I no longer care. Last week, I got wolf whistled as I walked in. Sadly, it was by a man.
I put in a hard effort for nearly 4 hours on Monday and I can feel a few niggles. I did an exercise/weights/stretching/rolling session last night and am debating whether to get on the turbo tonight for a speed/spinning session. Will I be in pain if I do it? Will I feel guilty if I don't?
The constant equation of gaining or losing fitness and form.
Actually Krabbè regrets to "non-racers", I remember because I'm "just" a rider.
@RobSandy
I broke my jaw a couple of years ago and had to wait for clearance from my insurance before I remounted my steed. I had to learn to love the trainer. In summer. While still healing. God I hate that thing...
@Phillip Mercer
I did the same after a shoulder op. It is a means to an end.
I also try and keep my sessions really short and intense so there isn't time to get bored. 45 minutes max, 30 minutes ideal.
I'm also not keen on the wear it seems to be putting on my tyres.
@frank
I wouldn't know what to do with all of the mirrors I've had installed. Hung exactly horizontally, of course!
Pretty much the perfect post. Frank, you are a mind reader and never let it be said you don't know your community. The sentiments are particularly apt right now as the evenings shorten incrementally each night to cries (here in WI) on "Oh no, it's only 7:30, it can't be dark already!" This of course, means getting out of work as soon as possible to ride.
My biggest guilt trip is if it's a nice day or evening and I don't ride (for whatever reason).
I wore shorts to a weekend event at work the other week. I'm usually a fairly dapper dresser. The shorts and legs freaked people out. I cared not a jot!
Work. What an absolute bugger. Few of us could afford to afford the bikes we do or even ride at all if it wasn't for work yet it's the single biggest thing that stands between riding as much as we would like or need to.
To make matters worse, the word itself has double meaning, not just the job, but also riding itself; many of us will praise a ride or effort with the commendation "strong work" and whilst cycling is a sport, none of use would ever consider that we play cycling as others might play rugby, soccer, football, tennis or darts and snooker (for the Scots out there).
Oh god...I've felt me belly pressing against my desk edge lately as well & found myself wondering. Not fun.
For a few weeks now I've been riding my road or cross bikes for my commute to work. Got bored on the commuter bikes. Pretty awesome to start the day pulling on the bibs, look at the bike throughout the day, then finish the day with a fast ride home. Been a great change of pace.
Chris - the New Yorker just had a piece on Ronnie O'Sullivan. Wow, talk about a character!