The only thing worse than being two months from peaking and too fat to climb is being two months past peaking and in the middle of the season of rapid weight gain. At least with the former there is something to look forward to as you measure the incremental gains of your training as the almost daily rides of the season accumulate on your Strava profile. The latter can seem like a long dark tunnel that leads only to fat and slow. For those of us living in the Northern Hemisphere, on the tundra and ice-covered roads, with only 8 1/2 hours of daylight, a proper road ride and last season’s gains can seem like a distant dream. The juxtaposition of climbing well for your weight and expanding into a larger jersey size before your very own eyes is a cross the Velominatus must sometimes have to bear.
2012 was perhaps the best season I’ve ever had on a bike. It actually began on the trainer on New Year’s Day as I started training for the Keepers Tour. After returning from the trip of a lifetime riding the cobbles of Norther France and Belgium I was able to hold momentum at the start of the season at home. Next up was the Almanzo 100 in May, a very hard gravel race in which I was happy with my result. Then, the guys began gathering for our Tuesday group rides. On the whole, the group really got after it this year and we pushed each other to some great levels of fitness. Coupled with my almost daily solo rides, I was seeing progress early and often. Then the season was punctuated in September by a 15th placing in the Heck of the North, another gravel race. I had timed my peaks pretty well for an amateur and as my Strava numbers got bigger La Volupte and I had become closer acquaintances.
Then November happened. I hold about as much appreciation for November as I do for March in this part of the world. That is to say none. November and March are the shoulder seasons and the only time of year when running actually seems like a plausible way to stay fit. In November the Rule #11 chickens start coming home to roost, the roads can turn to shit and aren’t safe to ride, and graveling becomes an exercise in survival as half the month is slotted for deer hunting. Mates that haven’t been seen all summer start to wander into town again for Happy Hour beers at the local micro-brew. Food becomes laden with butter, chocolate, and carbs. This November was exacerbated by the fact that I went down for two solid weeks with a viral infection. I was so fucking sick I shit the bed one night. For Merckx’s Sake it took a lot of the V to recover from that one. Now I know how Thor must have felt about this year’s Spring Classics campaign. The only difference being my spring was better than his and my fall was his spring.
So let me have it. Tell me to Rule #5. Tell me to get out and ride my bike, set up the trainer, stop whinging. I probably deserve it after all this. I’m banking on the fact though that there are others like me out there. Others who have witnessed their own precipitous descension from peak form to shit in the matter of weeks. It really is incredible, the difference in how long it takes to build that form and how quickly it disappears. So please, grant me this one confession. Share your own despair if you like but then let’s move on. Let’s share in the fleeting catharsis that being a little bitch can offer and then begin the long, painful, and awesome slog back to the V together again.
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@strathlubnaig
And self evidently if the Scots had anything to do with it you'd all be spelling properly and learning about Queen Victoria at school.
Marko, what? Did I break character? Or, are ya sayin' that I'd be breaking my own advice about not fucking with strangers?
@Ron
I just never realized you were OG is all.
@Carpy
@Carpy
Hangs head in shame.
I've never understood the propensity for us cyclists to espouse the hardmen, and in the next breath whinge about what we eat, losing weight etc. I reckon, own that shit. If you're putting on, it's because of something we are doing to ourselves.
We all are getting it off our chests, and I get that in a Cleo letters-to-the-editor kinda way, but you know what? The heavier we are when we start back, the more Gravity Assisted Resistance Training we'll be putting ourselves through towing our lard asses up hill...
@Beers
Pur solid fucking gold right there. You sir, just got added to the Lexicon.
Form goes away quick. I started racing in the US during March of this year, placing in the the top ten in races by the time I was ready to move to Japan this summer. In the month of packing, vacationing to our families, and traveling to Japan, I didn't realize how much my weekly mileage dropped. Given than the Army would restrict us on the number of checked bags to take aboard our plane, we had a decision to make, albeit easy. My wife and I brought I bikes with us under the plane. On day two of being in Japan and severely jet lagged, I was wide awake at 430 am. I didn't help that the September sun was already coming up. I donned my kit and headed out for an easy ride. 45 minutes later, I came home gassed. Between the lack of mileage, jet-lag, and moving from flat southeastern VA to foothills of a mountain range in Japan, I was not up to a simple little jaunt such as this. Steadily though, I increased my mileage, fitness...mostly Hardened the Fuck Up, and discovered that I'm actually a decent climber. I've been on the local Cat 2, 3, and 4 climbs in our mountains and have been passing others, who I'm sure are climbing well for their weight, whilst remaining casually deliberate. Say what you want about cross-training and/or time off the bike during the Winter. The only way to maintain a magnificent stroke is to pedal a bike.
@Ron
Getting punched up regularly doesnt ensure complete removal of punkish dickhead tendencies. I have 5 older brothers.
But I think you might need to see someone about that anger Ron. The dark side is strong in you.
@Marko
As for you Marko, you will be displeased to know that my ride started at 5am this morning in short sleeves. Needed sunglasses by 6.
Gotcha, Marko. I am not, in fact. I just thought it was totally out-of-line to harass some dude waiting for his friend outside of a party, minding my own business. He was just being a wiseguy & I was going to call him out on it.
To me it was kind of like a punk yelling at you on the ice or field from the bench. It's easy to be a funny dude from there, but if you are going to be a comedian you're probably going to have to own up for it on the next shift; I don't think this guy had learned this lesson yet. It was a teachable moment!
@Ron
Funny, the guy was thinking about stopping (I think) after my retort, and as I was reaching for the bidon (was gonna unscrew the lid and chuck a whole bottle of Cytomax in like a grenade. But off he went.