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.
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Very nice description of the Man with the Hammer.
When he comes to call he demands all you have, then takes whats left. Forward movement to your destination is animated and in slow motion. But he does not abandon you until you have nothing left to give and nowhere left to go.
Thanks Frank. I feel reassured. I am about to embark on my longest competitive ride this weekend. Ive been anxious about it, but having had brief interloudes with thou that you speak of, I look forward to embracing said man, whole heartedly. I will ride and i shall complete the course.
I'll peak in two months, but in the meantime my V-locus, shall be my focus.
A-Merckx.
Gorgeous, Frank. Climbers refer to something similar as "commitment." For some old Roman or other it was crossing the Rubicon. But whatever you call it, when you go there there's no going back, just through it and on. There are life lessons there.
The VMH and I are riding Hurricane Ridge from the house tomorrow--it's my 150km birthday present. (We'd planned it for the weekend before the Cogal, but got screwed out of it.) I'll be taking food with me, but I'll still be inspired by your meditation here.
The Man with the Hammer and I had a long, wet bonding experience this weekend. Threat of rule #9 weather meant the uninitiated ride leader called off the food stop with 60km to go. (didn't pack any food, as a stop was scheduled.) We got on a very personal level with 20km to go, as most of the group heads home downhill to the east, I turn westward where copious amounts of rule #5 were needed to make it up the 1.6km 12% that stands in my way on the way home.
There is also a flat route around the mountain, that i normally take when i'm gassed, but the Man with the Hammer promised 750ml of 8% post ride Muskoka. What a gentleman.
I met The Man yesterday on a three pass ride. On the third climb I blew up, bonked...took the hammer up side the head. I rallied twice, but ended up with my first DNF of the season. I was so wrecked that the VMH treated me to a post ride massage. Days like this call out for redemption, so I went out and communed with the Benevolent Spirit this morning. We rode 150 Km with a 1500 climb at the end. Redemption doesn't come from cancelling the next day's ride. During the fast descent down the backside it all came together. Tomorrow I'll take my rest day.
Rule #12 applies to reading/editing as well - the correct number to edit an article is n+1. The last paragraph makes sense now. Maybe. I'll confirm after the next time I read it.
Beautiful! Thanks Frank. I am inspired. I have been afraid of that man since some heart issues a few years ago but, the cardiologists says I am good to go so I'll be out looking for him in the rain tomorrow.
Whilst I've felt the presence of the companion a couple of times over the last couple of weeks back on the bike I'm yet to suffer his strike (mainly because the rides haven't been long enough). Planned 100+k for Saturday morning should have us properly reacquianted I suspect.
@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 ...