It requires a combination of factors to intersect. You need to have already spent loads of time on a bicycle. Enough so that you have an inherent sense of this odd thing with two wheels; you can make it go quickly or slowly, you can steer it around a corner with ease, you know how the introduction of a layer of moisture between the tires and the tarmac might affect the way it does these things.
There can’t be too clear a boundary between the bicycle and your body; those lines are best when blurred a bit. Hands to bars, feet to pedals, badonkadonk to saddle – these are contact points but they extend into the body to form a cohesive unit of rider and machine.
You need to know the difference between being out of shape, overweight, under-fed or hydrated, or simply being tired; these things have different implications and you must know how to manage them. You need to have met the Man with the Hammer enough times that you can feel him standing alongside you some time before his hammer hits. You need to know which actions bring him near, and you need to know which actions may stave him off.
These are all things that must be learned through many years spent in the saddle and cannot be gleaned from a book; this is a path you must walk yourself.
It also needs to be a long day out on the bike. Long enough that you’re tired with some distance yet to go; past the halfway point in the ride, but not so close to the end that you distract yourself with thoughts of finishing. There can only be the moment, nothing more. The legs need to be heavy from hours of effort but still strong. The pressure in the chest firm as the rhythm of your breathing is contant but not overly labored. The heart has to be pumping hard but not on its limit.
You have to be on the right kind of road to support a sustained, constant effort. Not too twisty, not too undulating. Not too scenic as scenery tends to be a distraction. Perhaps it is misty, humid. The air through which you ride wraps around you like a blanket.
You don’t have to be particularly strong that day, or fast, or in particularly good shape; you just need the right amounts of the right elements. As the legs start to go round, they draw you into a kind of hypnosis. The sight of the front wheel guiding you in the bottom of your periphery adds to the effect. Slowly, your senses turn inward, like falling asleep except that with every turn of the pedals, your focus grows more intense. You see everything and you see nothing. You see the road and you see obstacles, but acknowledgement of these things is reserved for critical items only. Only those things that require attention will be given it; the rest is reserved for turning the pedals.
The blanket you wrapped yourself in gets pulled up over your head, over your ears, nearly to your eyes. Darkness is everywhere except directly in front of you, the tunnel guiding you along. You hear nothing but the whirring of your tires, perhaps the changing of gear. The Man with the Hammer wanders close; you feel him. But La Volupte has graced you as well and she distracts him to stave off his hammer for a bit longer.
His killer blow will come, but not yet.
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This is Jens. Jens just climbed out of The Tunnel. Which he dug for the rest of us. Using only his nose.
@Mark1
Looks like a terrible peak right there near the 180km mark. Ouch.
A Love-Hate relationship: cleaning the drive-train on No.1. But now the Record chain is shiny and resin free. Removed the cassette with a Campy C10 chain whip and will bring the lock ring back to just under 50Nm. But not until every sprocket (and spacer) has been polished with a clean t-shirt. Then a Motorex chain massage. I love this socket.
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@Mark1
Oath! That was a day in the saddle. 3300 meters of up in Wales? Fuck me, I hope you retired to the darkest, dankest, best pub in Wales for your fluid recovery. The man mit hammer hates that.
@scaler911
Ha ha! It always gives me a thrill to take it into the gravel.
At 1km from the finish I tried to take a shortcut and t-bone @snowgeek but I got stopped by a pedestrian on the path and had to settle for bronze.
@Rigid
Nice one. I stragely have never cracked on Hatepe, it's the fast false flat on the other side that runs into Taupo that fucken gets me. I always manage my pace ahead of Hatepe cos I know it's there, and the handbrake comes off going down the other side.
Interestingly, after racing on Saturday, I finished the race and soft pedaled back to the car, feeling fine and getting some blood flowing through my legs again, could have raced another lap. THOUGHT I was fine till I hopped off the bike, felt really light headed and unsteady on my feet, and needed food straight away - interesting. it was then that the exertion whacked me in the face.
Rode the bike 40km into work with backpack, laptop, clothing etc. A bit of a hilly route.
Nothing like carrying 20 or so pounds in a backpack to remind you why we try to lose weight. Climbing, descending, going over bumps...I felt every little bump in the road and my back and ass were aching by the time I got to the office.
No tunnel for me today, holy Merckx.
@minion
The body is so weird and that lag is striking sometimes. On some short grinders, I'll stay in a monster gear and just blast over it, because the effort is so short that your body can't figure out that you just overcooked it before the effort is over. By the time you're over it and on the flat or descent, your body catches up and goes, "Holy fuck what was that?" and you can recover again.
@frank
Nothing I dislike more than wearing my timbuk2 bag while actually cycling to work (sort of ironic, since they're supposed to be for that). I just hate having the extra weight on my back, damn annoying. I try and take everything I need ahead of time...
@frank
The nice thing was my back didn't want to straighten and my hands were a bit sore - not in a bad way, but in a way that indicated I was comfortable while on the bike and fucked off it.
One other time it happened was on the track, my coach ran over and grabbed me after I'd done a warm down lap and I had no fucking idea what he was doing. Turned out after I stopped I couldn't even unclick from my (admittedly tight) pedals. Weak like a little kitten.