Those things in life that are worth having are those things which are difficult to come by; perseverance is made more rewarding by the volume of messages ignored by the mind as we work towards a goal.
Fatigue comes in many forms and is normally framed in negative connotations; weariness, exhaustion – both things to avoid. For a Cyclist, it can carry a range of meanings. We may become weary of riding in the rain, as I normally am at this time of year; stuffing my shoes with yesterday’s newspaper post-ride in the hope that the dry accounting of our current events will somehow render my shoes less soggy the next day. We may become weary as we approach the big climb of the day when we know what suffering lies around the bend. To push on during an effort despite an overwhelming exhaustion that lays bare our spirit and threatens to stop our legs from turning.
But fatigue can be a beautiful thing. The fatigue that registers as a result of the post-ride status check is the gauge by which we measure satisfaction in our work. Even during the ride, we find that fatigue may not always be the sentinel of the Man with the Hammer; even as the wave of exhaustion washes over us, we learn through practice that we can continue or even lift our effort.
My favorite fatigue is the kind that sets in during a long ride; when the body has acquiesced to the mind and the signals of discomfort and pain have stopped being sent. The legs at this point take on an almost anesthetic quality to them, they don’t hurt but they don’t feel either; they have a thickness that, while they lack the punch they have when fresh, allows us to continue to push on the pedals for hours on end.
This happened to me during my most recent long ride. It was a cold, rainy day – cold enough that snow fell at the tops of the two major climbs of the day. The last big climb came at 160km and, while there is no such thing as a flat route in the Seattle area, the roads home lacked the steep grades that characterize our urban streets. The descent from Cougar Mountain froze me to my core. Starting in the snow and ending in the pouring rain, I arrived at the first of the minor climbs on the way home and pushed the button on my left shifter to slip into the little ring. Instead of making contact, my frozen hand slipped limply along the lever and did little more than jiggle the button.
This presented an unusual problem. At this point I was tired after having a piled a load of kilometers in my legs. I was also becoming just the slightest bit annoyed at how cold I was. I swerved dangerously as I experimented with bashing different parts of my hands and arms against the disappointingly stubborn shifter to try to get it to budge. Inanimate objects and I have an uneasy history, and I soon found myself giving it the customary inputs involving profanity and questioning the pureness of its mother.
Having that unpleasant business out of the way, I resigned myself to riding home in the big ring feeling fortunate that my right hand was still capable of shifting so at least I wasn’t riding a glorified single speed. And then it hit me: it was actually quite easy to carry on this way, riding in the big ring. The legs still managed to turn over and I hardly felt a thing as I pushed harder on them whenever the road pointed up. Even a few of the hills on which I struggle to stay in the big ring during my usual training rides seemed to pass under my wheels without giving undue notice.
That sensation of power combined with the heavy fatigue I carried with me distinguishes itself as one that comes only during my longest rides on those days when my form is good enough that the effort hasn’t cracked me entirely. Wholly unlike the seduction of La Volupte, it does bear a vague similarity in its rarity. Powerful fatigue; vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@ChrisO
and you can marvel at the large elipse of shin I removed Saturday whilst losing interest in the #33 compliance task - nothing like a couple of sharp blades and an endless bleeder to focus the mind...
You'll be fine in a gilet and kneekers BTW
@Dan_R
Or a pallet of stone pavers.
@Dr C
Indeed he should, but failing that I'm at ohearnc @ gmail . Ping me and I'll give you my arrival times etc. I've ordered a Golf and will pick up from the airport so with just two of us there should be plenty of space for a bike.
I'm staying at the Hostellerie Kemmelberg and hoping I don't turn up and find there are seventeen villages called Kemmel and I'm at a totally different one.
The family plan went awry as our eldest had to attend CCF camp and so they wouldn't be able to get over until the end of the weekend and we decided it wasn't worthwhile.
Don't tell the Velomissus but the way I see it is that I get the brownie points for having had a plan to include the family, avoid the disapproval of going off cycling for the weekend, but yet I am still free to do everything with you guys. Result.
@Dr C
Doc - probably the best part about it, speaking from years of personal experience with marathons, (gasp) triathlon and ultracycling shenanigans, is knowing that it's an easy day, then using the HRM to keep you there. It's too easy to go hard every day, then never get a decent recovery.
While it takes a huge well of determination to attain Mach V every day, you'll slowly degrade. It takes just as much determination to keep tooling along at 60% when everyone around you blows past, training hard to be the Spring Huevo.
Especially for those of us who are not getting any younger, the recovery is just as, if not more, important than the work.
We'll have a week to talk about it, if you'd like. Especially about the dangers of getting fixated on the numbers and ignoring the feel.
Found the perfect article for this thread. From Smithsonian magazine, no less. Mentions Fränk's nemesis, Haleakala, as well as Ventoux.
Excerpt:
Climbing such roads on a bicycle delivers endorphins to the brain, strengthens muscles and calms the mind. It works like yoga, asking concentration while allowing meditation. Big climbs mean health, nourishment and prolonged youth. We thrive on them ...
Chapeau, Frank. Now that the first point of Aries is behind us, I am coming out of my gloom to make plans for the coming months. I have already signed up from (imperial) centuries out through September (and one special event in that month I have sent you email about.) Anticipation of the Suffering is often part of the fun.
@ChrisO
don t worry, there is only one town called Kemmel and there is a hill - Kemmelberg (up to 23% on cobbles), which is visible from a distance. if you are landing in Brussels, follow E40 motorway towards Gent, E17 towards Kortrijk, then A19 towards Ieper. then you ll see signs Heuvelland or Kemmel. the roads over there are a bit narrow and criss cross, but there are enough signs to find your way... it will be a 2 hour ride or something, if there are no traffic jams or road works. and, please drive on the right side of the road...
very nice region to cycle by the way. for some reason, riding along those fields makes me silent and thinking about what happened some 100 years ago. the Westhoek still bears the scars of WWI...
@ChrisO
I am also staying at the Hostellerie Kemmelberg. I'll land in Brussels at 11:25 AM and have a car reserved. Just staying through to Monday as family obligations for the rest of "Semana Santa" prevent participating in the full week. If anybody else is coming in near that time, I'm happy to offer a ride.
I've been following your recent activity on Strava and one thing I'm sure of is that if the ride breaks into multiple groups, your group will certainly be ahead of mine!
@Dr C, Hoping for some company back in the grupetto.
Looking forward to meeting you guys.
@Dr C
f-ckin oath it does work - but only if you do it properly. If you want to do it, you need to work out your max HR before anything else and then you need to structure your training so you do the right riding at the right times. Getting mates to tell you that "today you should be in zone 2" is useless.
Don't bother with it unless you are going to do a proper program - heaps of internet resources to use but if you are serious about it, get a coach. My suggestion would be to find a target ride/race in say 8-12 weeks time (or maybe 8-12 weeks after the Keepers tour) get a structured training program and use it.
Sticking to a structured program without a specific goal at the end can be hard.
Try searching around cyclingtips.com for a few good general articles.
If done properly, it will make your hard rides harder and your easy riders easier. And you will get better.
I had the duality of fatigue and La Volupte recently. Saturday started with a dose of 230kms @ 32.5kph. I worked Monday 9am-Tuesday 5am, slept on a table for a couple hours and then resumed working until 3:30pm. After that binge, I thought, "Damn, it's 80. It's Michigan. It's March. I gotta ride!" Upon hitting the road, I discovered my legs weren't there. The more I pushed, the faster I went, but the legs just said, "Try me!". So I knocked 10 minutes off one of my usual 70km routes in euphoric fashion. The ride became a game of "Can I go harder?" with the answer always an emphatic "Yes!". The VMH came over for dinner after my ride, and I was giddy with the high from La Volupte (or perhaps the 2 hours of crap sleep started catching up). Perhaps my whole body was purging the endless hours in the Linux kernel network stack from the last few days. Please let that be so.