If you have to choose, choose quality over quantity
My lungs feel my favorite way my lungs can feel. Every breath I take tells me the whereabouts of each alveolus. They feel raw, like they were scraped clean and opened up anew after a period of dormancy. Every breath tells me their exact shape and depth, where my lungs end and where my diaphragm begins. I feel high, as though my freshly cleaned lungs are letting too much oxygen into the system and it’s not quite sure what to do with it other than to make everything feel more Awesome.
Cycling is, unequivocally, without question, a drug.
At my back lies a winter of frustration; my training has been behind all year with me neither having nor making the time to get the hours in that I am used to. I’ve never been a thoroughbred, but this winter I haven’t even been a donkey. I’ve been a mule. It feels good to say it out loud, actually.
“Hi, my name is Frank. I’m a mule.”
“Hi, Frank.”
I’ve always favored the 2 hour ride over one, three hours over two, four over three. The best rides are sun-up to sun-down endeavors that have me crawling into the kitchen or pub for a recovery session. On one notable occasion I got off my bike and sat at the side of the road in the pouring rain, just to contemplate how I might manage to ride up the final steep ramp to get back home. (Spoiler alert: I finally arrived at the conclusion to climb aboard my bike and pedal up the hill, something that seems a lot more obvious in hindsight than it did at the time.)
I’ve become more opportunistic in my training since arriving at some basic condition through getting my head kicked in for nine days at Keepers Tour. Since then, I cherish those small windows in my schedule that allow for a quick ride and jump at the opportunity, even if it’s just for an hour. The shorter the ride, the harder the ride. No mercy. Stop lights? Interval to the next one, like some idiot Cycleway Hero. Climb? Hit it until the lights go out. False flat into the wind? 53×11 and out of the saddle until the legs turn into Jell-O.
Today’s ride was 90 minutes. Full gas, start to finish; I was a Cat 5 on Race Day, born again. If I was stopped at a light, it was a double-down sprint to make up for lost time like a dog let off its leash trying to catch up to where it would have been if it had been loose the whole time. Everything my mind asked for, my body gave. Everything my body needed, The V provided. Today was a reminder that if quantity and quality are on offer, take them both. But if you have to pick one, quality will go a long way to make up for quantity. I’d rather ride a little every day than not ride every day. And a short ride, done right, can put you in the box just the same.
In the immortal words of The Prophet, “Ride as much or as little, or as long or as short as you feel. But ride.”
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@frank
Ah, I see. 2 cm difference. However Fronk, mate you need the new stuff. The improvement in grip shape and shift quality is huge! I've got a set of the old 10 Spd, barely used if anyone is doing a retro build.
First rule of Fight Club? Don't talk about Fight Club.
First Rule of Velominati Club? Don't mention the height of Frank's saddle.
I noticed this thread had a Campy/Deda streak running through it, I thpught I'd add to the mix. Steerer to be cut soon, still trying to dial the fit.
@Tugman
^^Goddamn phone and my fat fingers! Help!
@DeKerr
Lung burn. Yes
@Tugman
I notice there still aren't any cages on there, check your messages son!
Short and Sweet = one hour in the morning on the small ring spinning, with a big ring the last five k's. Fighting winter hibernation here in Melbourne.
Try this for handlebar/hood positions.
http://ruedatropical.com/2009/03/road-drop-bar-geometry/
Note pics show bars with lower drop horizontal. Adjust angle to your liking. My Cycling Sensei taught me rule of thumb, start with lower drop same angle as fork crown.
Short and Sour for me this evening. I was invited to ride with a group of very strong riders today. Full gas pace line route of 61KMs. Averaging 41KM per hour in windy and cool conditions and I started to cramp in the legs and gut. Popped off the back at about 32KM and then they put the hammer down. Never had a chance to get back on and rode cramped and alone the rest of the ride. I ride pretty strong, but these big chaps have some serious power. Time to reevaluate my training to add power. My body is built to climb at 66 Kilos and the wind just pushes me all over the place zapping my strength. Rode back in at 35KM per hour but it was a struggle. Live and learn.
@frank
We don't have any descents around here of the length or 'open-ness' to get to that sort of speed. Plus, riding a compact means I spin out totally above 70km/hr, and is the main reason I'd like to get a mid-compact 52/36 at some point. I feel more in control when I can pedal and drive the bike along, for some reason, and while I don't want my maximum speed much more than 80 I would like to be able to accelerate towards there quickerer.
Went for a ride with a big group of mates last night (unusual for me, I'm a bit of a lone ranger) and I was flying, climbing and descending. I rode some sections without touching the brakes that I normally brake hard on, and climbing I was able to keep up with my annoying skinny grimpeur mate for much longer than usual. Joy.
Racing a crit tonight - certainly short and quite possibly nasty and brutish too.