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.
Nice one Fränk, you deserved the rest! The tailwind/ headwind dichotomy is also the litmus of rested/fatigued BFG’s.
Nice one, I’m smack bang in the middle of an enforced break from the bike thanks to some bike fit/baby lugging neck issues. Physio guided bike fitting session is booked in for Thursday week, by which point it’ll be upwards of 3 weeks since last turning a pedal in anger. Combine that with quite limited riding since Sebastian arrived at the start of May & I’ll have quite a slope to climb before any semblance of fitness is attained, but the best part about is that it only comes from more riding.
Oh, the inevitable (dreaded?) Wind Peaking, where you feel you’re having a great day until you head for home and realize the wind had been ushering you along the whole time and that no, you don’t normally cruise at 40kph+ down the road. Sometimes after starting a ride into a headwind, I convince myself there’s not a tailwind and I regularly ride 40+. Somehow, it is mentally relieving after slogging into a nasty wind.
To hear an orchestra in a headwind. One more way in which the practice of cycling asks us to be here now, to practice mindfulness and accept what’s happening in this moment now. I say this in real humility and cop to my habitual deep irritation at being caught out in the rain today. Again. I hate the rain. And my hatred of it is the second arrow.
Cycling loves paradoxes. The interplay of polarities form a whole: left/right, push/pull, up/down, inhale/exhale, exertion/rest. Mysteriously, they do not negate each other. They are interlocked. Cooperative. Inward polarities unify pain and healing. Outward polarities build on solitude and community. And upward polarities turn suffering to glory.
@freddy
Which is why even those of us who are too fat to climb learn to love to climb.
Had really strong headwinds on parts of the ride today. I think of them as Dutch Hills and then don’t mind the added effort.
I’m glad one of us is inspired getting back on the bike. I did a 3-day / 5 stage race the first weekend of the month, which marked the end of the season for me. I forced myself to take a week off the bike, which I hated, then did a couple of social rides with mates as wind downs when I felt as strong as an ox. The weather’s come in, the trainer’s come out, and it’s only really in the last four or five days I’ve got back in the saddle and wrestled again with the building up a base / not peaking too soon / not riding too soft and letting all me strength from the stage race turn to noodles conundrum. My neck hurts, the bike feels like it belongs to someone else, and I’m as weak as a kitten. Better start enjoying it again soon…
Did a 100km ride on Sunday (I am but a neophyte). Terrain around here can well be described as “dutch”- flat, with rivers higher than the fields. Even one of the two noticeable rises (too small to be called a hill by any reasonable person) contributed by being a wall. Should be pretty easy though, nice fast riding on flatish straight roads in a group.
Mother nature of course had other ideas, with a howling wind on the front for at least 2/3 of the distance that splintered the group. Attempting to work with others was futile. Did the only thing I could do. Dug deep and went for it.
I like the term “dutch hills”. The strong wind on flat terrain is a particular form of pain bringer that doesn’t get enough respect. It is hard to plan for. Sometimes even forecasts can’t quite prepare you for what you’ll face.
A common factor for most rides; it’s blowing one way or other. I find the headwind to be the hardest part of cycling. Relentless and usually there’s no way to avoid it. One can’t suddenly change direction, especially in a race. Give me a hill/mountain to climb anyday over a headwind. At least you know the hill will finish at some stage. I can’t recall riding into a headwind up a mountain though…….may be I was too knackered to notice?
Praises be to Merckx! When you click on a link, it opens in another tab as God and Tim Berners-Lee intended! None of that silly window in a window in a window Inception business.
Solid work, Frank!
Yes “Dutch Hills” just about sums up my feelings of head winds on the flat. I had a conversation with my riding partner this morning about how I now prefer climbing a hill than being out in the wind. I am examining my postion on the bike and how it can be tweaked to improve my aerodynamics.
Maybe I just need to embrace the wind, ignore the Second Arrow that I share with @PeakInTwoYears, and meditate on Rule V.
@Al__S
Sounds like you live in Cambridgeshire.
@frank Headwinds are a variation on Rule #10 – You may go slower but you will get stronger.
@Chris and the stronger you become the faster you can go and time with a tailwind necessarily becomes LESS and time with a headwind becomes greater. If I knew what a dichotomy was, that’s what I’d call it.
Loving “Dutch Hills”. I can deal with headwinds, but it’s when they come with rain that my life gets miserable. Applying Rule #9 is a given when you live in the UK, but it can be grim at times. Great piece Frank.
@trenchfoot This is getting confusing, first we had @frank’s moving clock/stationary clock timeslip bollocks, his thoughts on time zone quantum mathematics and @chrisO on multi dimensional warp travel, now when we get stronger and therefore faster it take us longer to ride home into a head wind.
I do know that my cycling sensei told me to start a ride into a headwind as that might give you a chance of finishing with a tailwind.
Me and a riding buddy decided that must be the origin of the term “second wind” that moment when you turn round and suddenly it’s so eeeeeeeasy…. Those of us in Perth know, it’s always a headwind. And it’s amazing how it swings round to face you all the time…
One of my own personal rules: When there is a wind available one must always start the ride with it at your back. Races are never easy at the end, and neither should your training rides be.
Lovely article. I did a recovery ride last night and resolved something afterwards: when I do such a ride I’m going to tape over the speed reading on my computer. Those damn numbers just tease you and encourage you to push it and therefore defeat the purpose of the ride.
This story strikes me on two fronts: I’m a couple of years past the half century mark and complacence this past winter pushed me a couple of pounds over the tenth of a ton mark. In an effort to get back down to fighting weight (I’m down 7kg) and regain the lost fitness I’ve been putting in lots of base miles. Doing what I call “daily doubles” – an hour ride before work in the morning and 60-90 minutes after work at least three days a week. While not super high intensity the high volume (for me) recently caught up with me and I decided a proper rest was in order. I took an entire week off the bike. The first ride after the rest was a casual 65k. The ride into work the next morning brought heavy legs again. A day off. And then magic. All the miles, all the hanging on for dear life at the Wednesday Night Worlds, finally kicked in. Pushing the usual headwind in the morning is now a little less daunting. Now the fight is against the discipline of staying in (self)prescribed cadence/HR zones when the legs are saying “we can go faster”.
The second front that Frank’s story touched on is what I recently called (on Strava) the “Glorious Tailwind”. Friday past, the VMH and I spent the night with some friends that live in town that is 90km upwind from us. Looking at the forecast winds for Saturday morning I decided to take Bike #1 with me and head out first thing in the morning for home. I must say that it was pretty rewarding to ride 90k solo and finish up with a 35kph+ average speed. Glorious Tailwind, O’ How I Love Thee. It seems that in his great wisdom Merckx is a cruel taskmaster that forces us to put our nose into the wind much more often than not. Thankfully, he consoles us with the notion that it makes us stronger (Rule #10). But he is also gracious and Merckxiful and every once in a while he peels back the curtain to give us a glimpse of what riding in heaven will be like.
I’ve been off the bike for 8 days now due to a nagging, swollen achilles tendon from my wont of crushing anything that goes uphill. Apparently 45 years of abuse from cycling, climbing and to a lesser extent, skiing have taken their toll.
That said, it’s feeling a bit better, so tomorrow back at it. It is the middle of “the season” after all, and winter is when you’re supposed to heal.
I look forward to riding into the “wind tunnel” that is the Columbia River Gorge once more. If you time it just right, you can get a solid headwind in both directions of the out n back, tho I like going out fast with the wind at my back, and cursing Merckx every last K on the way home.
@PeakInTwoYears
Keepers Tour was into a block headwind for 9 days, on cobbles and bergs. You learn to find the good in something or you go crazy.
But headwinds infuriate me for the most part; its the one thing in Cycling that I really don’t enjoy doing. But, as some have already pointed out, could be thought of as a long climb, so maybe I just need to listen for the orchestra more.
@freddy
Beautiful. You must have been the perfectly hydrated when you wrote that.
@itburns
There’s a reason the Dutch are good climbers.
I’m in a kinda messy situation as well. Since a week I’ve been pestered by cough. It isn’t just an ordinary cough though. It’s a cough so deep you could think your chest starts where your ass ends! Because of that I couldn’t train for 3 days and because of my business trip I won’t be able to train another eight…
I have heard of these magical winds that push you from behind, where do I find these winds? They do not exist on on Maui. It has always been headwind out and headwind back. I have named these winds the ” Invisible Hill “.
@il ciclista medio
Try riding Haleakala. Headwind in both directions near the top because it swirls around up there. That, and all along the shoulder on the way up you have a strong headwind. So much wind, in fact, that I think a 30-40mm rim would be advantageous over a low-profile climbing wheel.
@Chris
The Portland Cogal went up the Hood river valley into a block headwind. We were sprinting on the front doing something like 20kph. On the way back, we were spinning out our top gear. It was like legal EPO.
@Chris Jennings
I like this.
@wiscot
I was having a chat about this yesterday; Strava has so many cool aspects to it, but the segments etc make it hard to stick to a training plan.
I’ve been riding with a V-Meter since the fall and love it. I go back and forth on having a computer and it comes and goes – numbers are fun and data-based training can be super helpful. But invariably, I wind up having more fun without a computer.
If you know your body, it makes it easier to stick to your training plans without the numbers teasing you all the time.
@frank Yeah, I don’t “train” as I don’t race, but I do get a bit fixated on distance and average speed. I don’t do strava as I’m not that bothered by that level of detail and I’m a complete dunce with computers. I think a bit of black tape over the speed read-out will do me just fine. I did about 45 kms last night and it was just enough to hit the spot without going overboard.
@frank Nice, headwind or tailwind, it doesn’t make much difference in terms of the vvatts that you’re laying down but there’s something special about burying yourself at high speed. That feeling of being just a little bit closer to doing it like the pros. It doesn’t seems to happen often at all but it’s a guilty pleasure to be savoured
There are only two ways in and out of our village so I tend to finish from the same direction which often leaves me struggling against something between a crosswind and a headwind until a t junction that turns back on itself slightly kilometre out at which point it’ll be a tailwind home. When it’s windy (all year so far) it’s like easing a close hauled racing yacht on to a broad reach, there’s a sudden silence as the wind stops whistling past your ears, your balance changes and then you’re off.
@frank
Yep, that is the video that inspired the term.
This may not be ‘Dutch Hills’ but…was out for my regular training ride when after about 10k I really felt like the effort increased. I thought maybe I was just tired and kept going. All the while thinking, “Is this it? Has my fitness left for good?'” I continued on and eventually came to a downhill at which point my bike started to make a noise. I pulled over and discovered that my back brake had been rubbing!! After adjusting I surged up a hill like a new man. Duh!
Well, that’s that then, now i’ll have to get back on the bike then, going to be hard, 5 weeks off now, lots of which was spent lying down or sleeping. Better take it easy!
on the headwind issue it depends on my mood, if I’m feeling keen I go for headwind on the way home. But if you have a tail wind you should just go as hard at it anyway.
@the-farmer
glad to hear you are back in the saddle again, perhaps we can arrange a mini cogal to make up for the Desparate Dan event.
@frank
This is rather good.
@The Pressure
I think Pharmstrong was so doped in 2003 that he rode all of l’Alpe with a rubbing brakepad. And Luz Ardiden with a broken chainstay.
Moron.
Not you. Pharmy.
@strathlubnaig
par c’que c’est quoi? That sounds golden.
@frank
@the-farmer sadly missed out on the Dundee McCogal II recently due to a wee health issue, so we will try to get a few lads together to make up the lost km. Desperate Dan …. see pic below…his statue is in Dundee.
Time off the bike? What have you been doing, writing a book?
@strathlubnaig
Mmm – cow pie…
@PeakInTwoYears
yes, very good….in mute though
@frank
I hadn’t considered (nor experienced) being totally exposed at the top! So the deeper rim would provide a sail like effect or more stability?
@strathlubnaig
Damn, we were in Dundee and didn’t stop at the statue for a photo op? I bet it was just round the corner from the espresso stop too. Here on the coast it’s usually quite breezy and the prevailing winds mean that most rides start with an uphill headwind but the homeward run can make you feel like Indurain.
The wind is a reason why I don’t do Strava, unless the segment is a loop then surely you just wait for a gale force tailwind and give it your all. Met Office EPO.
@strathlubnaig
Is that the Engine? Or are most Scots built that way?
@frank
I don’t usually wear spurs…
For the record Mr Dan is considered a bit of a climbing Guru being blessed with such a svelte Scottish physic. Being from the East there are few hills, he has to journey over here to the West to ply his gift.
@il ciclista medio
It feels like a headwind in every direction, especially on the way up the shoulder to the exposed section up the top. Seems a semi-deep rim would give an aero benefit. But who knows!
@strathlubnaig
That’s cool to get a statue of Desperate Dan. I know there’s a Lobey Dosser wan in Glasgow tae. In Milwaukee they got a bronze Fonz FFS