Vlaams Orkest: Tegenwind
Any return from time off the bike is always met with a peculiar mixture of anticipation and apprehension. I will be excited to return to the bike, but on some level I’ve become accustomed to not getting on my bike every day. Not riding is easy, and we are creatures of inertia – once the rhythm of the daily ride is broken, it takes a push to slip back into the current that carries us to fitness.
I will be apprehensive to discover how much of my form has left me; I was strong before the break, and some of that strength will have left me. I can always hurt my legs, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I still can. But pain feels different depending on which side of it you’re standing; in fitness, suffering feels farther removed, as if we somehow control the pain. When fitness has deserted us, however, we are at its mercy; we are in a hole from which the only escape lies through withstanding the suffering being heaped down upon us in shovel loads from above.
After a week off the bike to rest a knee annoyance incurred during my Festum Prophetae Hour ride, I found myself riding in the early morning rain. This was a wispy rain rain of lukewarm water, the kind of rain we normally find in a Seattle summer. I chose a route with few climbs, so I might not force my legs. The route started with a dozen or so kilometers of gradually rising road before dropping into a valley where the road pitches steeply upward for a short while before continuing on its way down to the seaside. My legs felt magical on the climb; I could push on them and the bike would go. This is why I love Cycling; how can something so rich and complex be so elemental – all we need do is push on the pedals.
I fell into a beautiful rhythm as I rode easily along the twisting road, unusually aware of how good I felt. There must be a tailwind, I thought to myself, as I rose out of the saddle to push over a small rise in the road. Not long after, I reached the turn-around point and found unequivocally that indeed there had been a tailwind. I lowered my chin in resignation to the work that lay ahead to return home. It occurred to me that this, a headwind, is the only kind of wind they have in Flanders.
On most days, I would fixate on the speed that this headwind was wringing from my machine; the most frustrating thing about a headwind is the small return in speed for the amount of pressure in the legs and lungs. But today, I had no designs on speed. I had no designs on returning home at a certain time, for that matter. There was only me and the bike. It is only on rides like these that we may truly appreciate the gifts of dimension that La Vie Velominatus can provide when we are willing to receive them.
Riding into a headwind, with the air swirling about your head and rustling the nearby forest and meadows, forms a lovely orchestra of woods, reeds, and winds. If it wasn’t normally so frustrating, it might be my favorite kind of riding.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
a picture of said Lobey Dosser in the background with Cav on his way to the Champs jersey on sunday
@Cyclops
The cruel taskmaster. This has been an early season of wind, cold and rain N Minnesota. It hit 80 yesterday, and I thought I was going to melt. The locals and I are scratching our heads – because the winds this year really mess with the cyclist. Pushy, grabby, and affliction from almost every direction. 170 Km ride on the south shore of Lake Superior on Saturday: 48 degrees, fog, spitting rain…and the infernal wind forced my pace to a mediocre 27 Kph. Rule #5, Rule #6 and Rule #9 in one great big helping. But days like this go into the bank…they accumulate with interest. The pay off is reaching deep and actually finding something there later in the season. That’s when we find something special and give thanks for all the hard days in the bank.
@halfwheel
Thanks for posting! I think from now on, Cav should be known as wee Lobey. Small, cheeky, and comes through at the end. Cav’s the Wee Boy!
I remember a few years ago during a ride across northern france heading for Paris having a headwind for a whole days riding. It was consistent and steady and bizarrely I lost myself in my own reverie, the wind faded in my mind and I undertook The Work with something akin to peace in my soul. A day that started with perceived misery, turned in to one of the most rewarding rides I have ever had…
@halfwheel
The guns are looking mean there…
I’m always amazed at how even a short time off the bike allows fear to creep in – “Do I even know how to ride a bike anymore? I guess. But can I do it well? What about sitting in a paceline, I must have forgotten that?”
Yup, it’s usually good to take breaks once and awhile. If timed well I jump back on and the legs feel great, with just the ability to snap them into high tempos diminished. Nothing that can’t be recovered in a short window of a few solid rides. I’ve been doing mostly short rides lately, just to get out and enjoy a cruise, as I’m focussed on other matters. I rode solo Friday and Saturday, then with two mates on Sunday and the pace was high. Monday night I did some CX riding and when I stood I realized my legs were pretty sore. What’s that? Oh, I guess hard riding will do that, eh.
For as much as I’d like to still have a few hours a day to ride, I’m still constantly appreciative that I can ride frequently, still have decent form, live close to lots of great riding, also have trails for CX riding down the block, and oh yeah, have a bunch o’ nice bikes to choose from on any day. Not much to be upset about.
Nice one, Frank!
@Deakus
That’s fantastic stuff, mate. Those moments, when you find them, are some of the most amazing in life. And they never come without first fighting through some kind of adversity.
@Ron
A rest at the right time can actually strengthen the guns. If you’re getting that soreness after a few days, take two off and try again on the third. You’ll crush it!
@halfwheel
Boy, Cav is a short little sport, isn’t he? And thick. He looks like a bratwurst with bratwurst legs. Much like my little pit puppy.
@frank much like the pup, he’s not averse to throwing a headbutt or two either…