Fitness. The rhythm, the feeling of precision in our movement, the sensations of The Ride. The temptation of knowing we might in some way control our suffering even as we push harder in spite of the searing pain in our legs and lungs. The notion that through suffering, we might learn something rudimentary about ourselves – that we might find a kind of salvation.
Cycling, like Art, is based on the elementary notion that through focussed study, we might better understand ourselves. But to describe Cycling as a an Art does it an injustice. An artist, they say, suffers because they must. A Cyclist, I suggest, suffers because we choose to.
This element of choice, what psychologists refer to as the locus of control, is part of what allows us to feel pleasure through suffering. Through this choice unfolds an avenue of personal discovery by which we uncover the very nature of ourselves. Like Michelangelo wielding his hammer to chip away fragments of stone that obscure a great sculpture, we turn our pedals to chip away at our form, eventually revealing our true selves as a manifestation of hard work, determination, and dedication to our craft.
Having chosen this path, we quickly find that riding a bicycle on warm, dry roads through sunny boulevards is the realm of the recreational cyclist. As winter approaches, the days get shorter and the weather worse. Form tempts us to greater things, but leaves us quickly despite our best intentions. Its taste lingers long upon the tongue and urges us to gain more. Even as life gets in the way, we cannot afford many days away from our craft before we find ourselves struggling to reclaim lost fitness.
To find form in the first place, and to maintain it in the second, is a simple matter of riding your bicycle a lot. This simple task asks of us, however, a year-round commitment to throwing our leg over a toptube in heat, cold, wind, rain, or sleet, lest we spend months fighting to reclaim last year’s lost condition.
But with riding in bad weather is revealed a hidden secret. It is in the rain and the cold, when all the seductive elements of riding a bicycle have vanished, that we are truly able to ensconce ourselves in the elemental qualities of riding a bicycle. Good weather and beautiful scenery, after all, are distractions from the work. Without them, we have only those elements that we ourselves bring to The Ride: the rhythm, harmony between rider and machine, our suffering, and our thoughts. As the rain pours down and all but the most devoted stay indoors, we pull on extra clothing and submit into the deluge.
We are the Few, we are the Committed. We are those who understand that riding in bad weather means you’re a badass, period.
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@scaler911
A few years back my little brother got a snow day cause there was ice on a bridge. That's falling apart. Lol.
@Nate
Oli told me I had to change it.
Good post Frank, and good timing.
We went on a group ride yesterday, which was in windy/stormy conditions. When I got to our start location, I saw a couple of the other guys walking up and down 'testing' the weather. I could tell they were ready to cancel the ride. One came up to me and said "...there's a crosswind and with all the rain it might be dangerous to ride."
I just shook my head in the affirmative, said 'yup', and began unloading the bike, getting it ready for the ride. Ten minutes later we were on the road, riding. In the end it wasn't as bad as we thought.
It wasn't a perfect ride, but I felt all the better for finishing what we set out to do.
Here in Melbourne (Aust) the sunny weather lasts for arguably four months of the year. The rest is usually cold, wet and gloomy.
I'm still a newbie, but I commute regularly, except when the forecast is for thuderstorms. And everytime I don't ride, I regret it because as Frank mentioned, I rarely get La Volupte during a sunny ride. The harder the ride, the greater the La Volupte.
Rain or hail, with the right kit, it's all sorted!
@DeltaMngo You've got those tram tracks in Melbourne too - they must be especially fun in the wet.
On the other hand the overhead cables are more likely to be struck by lighting than you so what's with No Thunderstorms... HTFU old chap.
@Frank As for La Volupte I like to think it can come to us anytime if we are worthy. Look at Itburns post the other day about riding after his bikefit - the glorious gorgeousness of the day clearly added to his awesomeness.
I also have one of those clear mental images of a particularly enjoyable ride last year when I was back in London from Abu Dhabi. I rode down on my usual route to Box Hill and as I was feeling strong I went a bit beyond into some lovely small lanes with a few nice little climbs.
Unless you've seen the home counties on a glorious spring day you're just not going to completely get what I mean, but we're talking deep blue skies, lush green fields, spring lambs frolicking, (really... there were lots of lambs) and an honour-guard of trees and hedgerows along the traffic-free roads.
It was just one of those perfect moments when I was so glad to be out on the bike and felt I could ride all day - alone, quiet, strong. Tranquilissimo.
@Dr C
While I enjoy riding in a group, I find that I'm focusing on completely different things, such as not causing a massive pile up, how to get up the same hill as everyone else or where to blow my snot! There isn't time or mental capacity available to drop into that state where cadence, stroke, breathing and position become one and the outside world, including the weather, becomes secondary apart from the occasional glance up the road for obstacles. Alone, that might not happen but it can.
@Chris
very true - you do actually miss a lot when in a group, especially when the tunnel vision associated with being hung out to dry on the front until well past one's expiry date occurs!
Was thinking some more about the bad weather thing - sounds arrogant, but not intended, but I kind of feel like it is the ultimate FU/ tongs/ the bird, to all those who have been granted the most amazing machine (healthy body), and chose to sit at home and watch the telly eating chips....give's one a really feeling of transcending from the masses
That sounds really bad, but I get so frustrated as a GP with all those couch potatoes who moan endlessly at me for not keeping them slim and happy - RULE V the lot of you!!!!! Grrrrr
@Dr C
Hear, hear, good doctor. Shame there isn't an offence of wasting a GPs time similar to that of wasting the time of a police officer! Prescribe them all a course of V to be taken twice a day, outdoors, regardless of weather. If they fail to complete the course, send them off for hard labour!
But hey, why bother with reality when you can watch it on the box!
@ChrisO
Lush English fields after the sandpit; I know what you mean. We spent the first week here in Singapore marveling at the green, my god, the green.
I've been in England in April and it was glorious.
@Blah
often wonder how glorious it would be to live in a sunny country and ride every day in blue skies and short sleeves - but then any time I have spent in such climes, the thing I noticed most was the beauty of the patchwork green fields of Ireland as the plane brings you home - the lower angle of the light and the colours that eschew from that, and then after three subsequent weeks of pishing rain, how glorious it is when the sun finally comes out again.....
variety is the spice of life
@Dr C
Indeed it is. I got my weather variety over 30km on the way home from work this afternoon. Left school with huge thunder clouds in the near distance, but was pretty sure the wind was pushing them away. Oh well, head out, away from home, which is pretty close, for a longer loop. For the whole ride it was just on the edge of raining. Big, heavy drops would fall, then nothing. I rode through parts of town that were damp, others dry and a couple that had obviously been dumped on, with rim deep torrents washing over the road still. I stayed dry and even got to watch fork lightning go nuts in a storm that never hit.
So... Rode home. Didn't rain. True story.