If I were a pessimist, or a realist for that matter, I wonder if I might have started any of the various activities which have brought me the most pleasure and satisfaction. Though I have Cycling in my mind when I make that statement, this principle expands beyond the vast and il-defined borders of La Vie Velominatus: everything worth doing takes time, work, and commitment in equal measure, and that fact can be daunting and intimidating.
Invariably, it is my poor estimation of effort combined with my vague memory of pain and discomfort which affords me the greatest character trait I possess: optimism. In the face of all reasonable likelihood of failure, in spite of the hopeless amount of work something might prove to be, I invariably believe that success is not only possible, but inevitable. (This trait might also be classified as arrogance or stupidity, but I don’t like the sounds of those as much because they would require more introspection, and that sounds like work.)
It is with this frame of mind that I cheerfully tackle most any activity, in my life and on the bicycle. While I haven’t conducted a poll of any kind, I have informally received sufficient unsolicited and often shouted feedback to allow me to surmise that this approach is not always as liberating for those participating in the activity as it is for me. Be that as it may, and as has oft been observed in these archives, our chosen sport is one rife with suffering afforded by long days in the saddle which allow us to suffer more intensely and for longer days in the saddle in the future. Every element of this sport revolves about axes of sacrifice, dedication, and patience. Training, certainly. Diet and weight loss as well. Even learning the subtleties of maintaining our equipment properly takes years in the tutelage of a Cycling Sensei. These are long journeys that build on small gains over time; there is no magic potion that one can imbibe to be transformed from portly oaf into elite cyclist – much less so a Velominatus.
If, on a winter morning, I had the slightest appreciation of the intensity of the cold I would feel eight or ten hours into the ride, I might never set out on it; it is my optimism that I will enjoy the ride that allows me to experience the insular nothingness of The Tunnel.
If, as I point my bicycle towards the hills instead of the plains, I had a clear memory of the suffering it caused me previously, I might never become a better climber; it is my optimism that I can overcome my size and weight to master the terrain I love the most and am comprehensively il-suited to travel.
If, at eight years old, I’d had the slightest idea that I would be almost 30 years into my journey and only just beginning to develop some of the most rudimentary elements of experience, strength, knowledge and passion that Cycling delivers to us, I would perhaps never had started. Yet it was my optimism that these things would come that has allowed me to experience this wonderful journey.
Optimism is what allows the mortal to start down the path laid by the immortal. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@Chris 'Competing' with others who just happen to be out riding certainly reveals nothing about one's own fitness, for the reasons you give. After my recent exploits at the Cougar Mountain Time Trial my thoughts have turned to how I might improve on my 6th place in next year's event. It occurred to me that my Campa Scirrocco wheels weigh at least 500 grams more than the hoops many other riders seemed to be running, and that this was actually quite a disadvantage to me. If I maintained the same level of fitness next year, the competition stayed roughly the same, and I shelled out $1-2k on the lightest possible wheels, could I stand a chance of winning the event? Who knows, because I don't have that sort of money lying around, and if I did, I'd probably buy a cross bike instead. The point I realized, and perhaps it's the same for others, is that as much as I love equipment (I have a Look 595 with Campa Chorus 11 speed, after all) the fun of competing in an event like a time trial year after year is to see how much you can improve, through hard work, frozen hands on longer winter rides and searing quads after grueling hill repeats. If I could skip all that and get the same time next year simply by purchasing new wheels, where would the fun be in that?
While, despite my near-admission in my last post, I'm still trying to puzzle out exactly what is "fun" about swimming, riding and running during the same event (from recent firsthand experience, it seems an activity designed in the seventh circle of hell), I'll admit that I enjoy running quite a bit as a standalone activity. I ran CC in high school, and do enjoy getting after it. I'm sure one day I'll switch solely to riding to ease the aching joints, but I've been luck enough to avoid any such problems, even after 25 years of running.
Swimming, on the other hand, I can do without. God gave us legs to run with and turn the cranks on a machine born of sheer human intellect. God did not give us fins or gills.
@frank
I used to dabble at standing up sailing but things weren't much different back then and I was either too talent-less or too fat to waterstart. A slight overestimation of my skills in general when I purchased my board meant that when the wind was up or there was any sort of waves about my just floaty board became a marginal sinker rapidly and I spent more time than I liked swimming around worrying about jelly fish and big nibbly fish.
Being at boarding school in Scotland meant that there was only about six to eight weeks in the year that I could hone those skills and once I moved to university, lack of transport to the coast killed the whole thing off pretty quickly.
without optimism, I would have been dead a long time ago. The art of turning the negative into a positive is a secret to success. Call it stupidity, arrogance what have you, I call it survival and growth and conditioning for life.
Suffering on the bike as well as other athletic endeavors has given me both the physical and metal fortitude to know I can and will withstand any and all of life's cruelties that are thrown my way.
If I count the times I have ridden/trained and even raced in bad conditions I would be considered stupid by the average non athletic human being. Little do they know how powerful that suffering becomes when you need to dig deep and deal with emotional pain.
Ride on.....
@frank
Thanks for this tip, a few weeks too late unfortunately - recent group ride - all was good and speedy, as we hit the bottom of the hurt locker climb of the day (all things are relative) - struggling with the knowledge of how less fat those were who shot off up the hill ahead of me, I involuntarily decided to start flailing around, puffing shallow breathes like a man with a collapsed lung
A very nice retired policeman in our paceline, some 10 years older than me, pulled along side and says "would you for fuck's sake breathe properly!!"
I pondered for a moment, and changed to the slow steady breaths he proposed, and lo, I realised I was neither out of breath, nor going very quickly - what a tit!
Newly revitalised, I promptly dropped him, confirming what a complete tit I can be at times
Somedays, one is cool - others, one is a tit - it seems this is not always in one's control ....
People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. But they're wrong. You feel your strength in the experience of pain.
-Jim Morrison
I don't know why I have had such a hard time joining into discussions on this site. Most other forums I have joined I have been trash talking in no time. The problem I have with remaining optimistic is that I have so many injuries and get damn tired of starting from scratch. Lost most of last summer to knee and foot injuries. Just lost over a month to sciatica. It takes a few rides to get back to the point where I don't dread the loss of fitness that I'll be experiencing. But after that I don't want to get off again and I look forward to the suffering. It helps if I have a target to work towards. A century ride or some other such goal, then I know what I have to do and keep my momentum.
@mcsqueak
Indeed. In fact, in every endurance sport, if all you do is endurance, at some point the gains vs leanness will cancel each other out - strength training helps, massively, and by strength training I don't mean climbing in the big ring. If you do more than 50 reps, it's no longer weight training.
The issue with old-aged runners is that at some point, these joints start hurting from the load they have to bear, regardless of fitness. Folks in their 70s and 80s often have troubles just walking down a flight of stairs. Running, by it's nature, requires more strength to keep moving than cycling does, and at some point the muscles are too weak to cope (plus, when you're runner slower than the chick in flip-flops walking by, that's kinda off-putting). Young runners with muscles that can't cope injure themselves, too (overtraining), but unlike them, the old folks don't actually build up more muscle-mass over time - rather the opposite. A runner with good form places almost all of the stress on his muscles, and when the muscles can't do their job, then the joints suffer. Most running injuries, in the end, are overuse injuries - ITBS, Achilles, hip tendon and the like.
@tessar Weight bearing activity is integral for keeping bone mass and you are correct, cycling does not offer that. I am a strength and conditioning specialist with 23 years under my belt. I am an adovcate of (off season) periodized strength training including specific exercises for cycling. I am a storng advocate of keeping some sort of core training all year long. Too many cyclists have weak backs/tight IT bands and even under developed glutes.
Muscle mass can increase with correct overload at ANY age if done correctly and coupled with good nutrition. I have worked with geriatric folks and have witnessed increases in strength, flexibility and most important balance..
@frank
You know that saying about being chased by a bear - you don't need to outrun the bear - just the guy next to you? You better only go camping with fat fuckers because people who hate running are invariably shitrunners.
And I thought XC skiing was for people who want to run but live in shit places. Is that correct?
@scaler911
That would be poking the badger. Or is that what he caught you doing?