A technique crafted in the wheel of Le Professeur

A friend recently asked my advice for how to prepare for the longest ride he’d ever done. My approach is somewhat unorthodox when it comes to this sort of thing; I like to train to ride a lot farther than the event itself, and whenever possible, throw in a handful of sessions with my old friend, The Man with the Hammer. I suggested he do the same, just to make sure he understands the alchemy of combining total exhaustion with the reality of still having a long way to ride. Based on his response suggesting the idea somehow contained a bad taste, I assume he didn’t take my advice.

I didn’t invent this technique. De Vlaeminck was known for his marathon training sessions involving a diabolical mixture of V:00 am starts and distances of 400km in preparation for his favorite race, Paris-Roubaix. Fignon was known to head out for day-long rides with little or no food in his pockets with the express intent of meeting the Man with the Hammer.

The Man with the Hammer holds a special place in the mythology of Cycling; ruthless and unpredictable, he lurks about in the shadows, ready to strike at any time. Most fear him, but I have been bopped on the head by him so many times, I start to feel lonely for his visits after a few months. I sense him in the nape of my neck long before he draws his hammer down with his judgement. On long solo rides, when the mind retreats into The Tunnel, I often find myself carrying silent conversations. Perhaps it is he to whom I speak in those dark hours.

His presence as a constant companion may not be as insane as it sounds. Explorers have often spoken of feeling that another presence was traveling with them; the early teams who attempted to scale Mount Everest had difficulty reconciling the numbers in their party due to the convincing sensation that another had been with them. All three men in Shackleton’s party who crossed the island of South Georgia independently confided in their captain that they believed a fourth to be traveling with them. This, I am certain, is the great spirit of the Man with the Hammer. We must not fear him; though he may be ready to strike, he is a benevolent spirit.

There is something purifying in being completely depleted and still having to carry on; it flushes your transgressions from you in a cleansing flood. Don’t avoid this; seek it out; every rider should endeavor to experience his visits at least a few times per year. They remind you that you can push beyond your limits, that the only thing bridging the chasm to a goal is having the will to act.

Whenever I find myself weighed down and questioning myself, I head out on my bicycle with no food in the pockets and with the express intent of meeting my old friend, the Man with the Hammer.

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

  • Frank, @all, great read and the comments are spot on. I can only add that I like to debate with the Man but not to argue... if I can help it.

  • How can we have this discussion without the classic Monstrous Mountains of the TdF 1950 illustration from Pellos?

  • @GT

    @gregorio So - to get a post ride massage from the VMH, one has to meet the Man and DNF. Presumably aided via a call to pick me up. How has this not been well communicated before? I've been trying to get the massage for 20 years. It now seems so simple ...

    Actually she paid for my massage. Simple? Only if you consider months of preparation evaporating and leaving one humbled! Moral of the story: Always travel with the debit card.

  • @Chris S

    I am relatively new to 'proper' cycling, so I wonder if any of you can confirm if some of my recent experiences constitute genuine meetings with The Man with the Hammer.

    Is it him when all the power in my legs seems to palpably evaporate? When my speed drops by a factor of four, but the exertion feels the same? When my body suddenly becomes hypersensitive to every bump in the road as if the rubber on my tyres has been replaced with strips of metal? When I'm totally consumed by the mental effort required for every pedal rotation?

    Is that The Man with the Hammer, because it'd be good to put a name to the pain.

    Probably. I think it's a different experience for different people. Early July I set out on a big leg burner with no intention of meeting TMWTH. It was hot, (31C), hilly and long: http://www.strava.com/activities/67152193

    Near the top of McKenzie Pass, I had been out of water for 20K, and it would be another 40K before I'd have someplace to get some. After finally refilling the bidon's and heading back for camp, I was doing the last big climb and the Mrs, little scaler and a friend were driving to a hike in the opposite direction. They stopped to say "hi" and I didn't even see them for a bit as they drove next to me. Every pedal turn, while bringing me closer to camp (a cold river and beer), was soul crushing. One pedal revolution for every smash to the skull.

  • @Gianni

    Fuck that. I've met the Man mit Hammer and after he hit the soft spot on my skull it took me forty-five minutes to ride the last three miles home. I don't like him, his people nor care to meet him again. He is an A-Hole.

    My Festum Prophetae tradition of a long solo ride is consistent in having the Hammering Man along for company toward the end.  For this tradition only, I would feel cheated if he didn't show.  The rest of the time, he is like a friend that accidentally breaks stuff when he visits your home - you are surprised by the damage, try and continue to enjoy the visit in spite of this, and deal with the aftermath as best as possible.

  • @itburns

    @Gianni

    Fuck that. I've met the Man mit Hammer and after he hit the soft spot on my skull it took me forty-five minutes to ride the last three miles home. I don't like him, his people nor care to meet him again. He is an A-Hole.

    My Festum Prophetae tradition of a long solo ride is consistent in having the Hammering Man along for company toward the end. For this tradition only, I would feel cheated if he didn't show. The rest of the time, he is like a friend that accidentally breaks stuff when he visits your home - you are surprised by the damage, try and continue to enjoy the visit in spite of this, and deal with the aftermath as best as possible.

    I'm with Gianni here.  I do my best to keep the door barred and that bastard at bay.

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