Today is a good day to ride.
I’ve been doing fasting rides on the weekend, before breakfast and maybe also before lunch, depending on how long the ride is. The longer the ride, the lower the intensity. Also the more likely I am to meet my old friend, the Man with the Hammer. I might bring an Emergency Gel, in its glass tube, but I never use it, no matter how enthusiastic his visit is.
I love the hollow feeling you get just before his visits; it sharpens your senses and brings out an awareness that is hard to achieve with a sated belly. I’ve read that mountaineers experience euphoric hallucinations when they are on the verge of collapse, high up on some Merckx-forsaken snowy mountaintop. Similarly, La Volupté seems to make her appearances just prior to our own collapse, like a siren calling our ship to the rocks where her lover lies in wait with hammer lifted high.
The impulse is strong to avoid the dreaded bonk; we feel weak and if we’re riding in a group we will be unable to hold the wheel in front of us. It is not a pleasant experience. But when we continue riding in this state, the body will eventually adjust and find a way to carry on, albeit at a lower pace. Where prior to the collapse we felt a special awareness, afterwards there is a special numbness; a cloudy haze clings to us, insulating us from external stimuli. There is only us, the bike, and the road before us.
In these moments, the body becomes an automaton; the mind still works but its connection to the legs has been severed. The hands push the shifters and pull on the brakes as needed almost without influence from the head. This is for the simple reason that thinking is the least valuable thing one can do at times like this. Thinking will only lead one to become aware of the suffering. Thinking will only lead to wondering why we are putting ourselves through this. Thinking will only lead us to consider making a phone call to be collected in a heap at the roadside.
None of those thoughts will make us a better Cyclist.
I have had my espresso this morning; I am ready to ride. I look out the window and see the rain drawing its shifting patterns on the street outside my house. My phone tells me what the temperature is, but it does not tell me how cold it is. Only the ride will tell me how cold it is.
Today, I set out to meet my old friend once again; the rain will make his visit all the more brutal. Today is a good day to ride.
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@Buck Rogers
Great photo! Really drives the point home that my affinity for climbing and my fear of heights are at odds. If that were me, my ride side would be scratched to bits from trying to cling to the wall...
There's "E", and then there's "out of gas", usually there is quite a few miles in between. We as individual cyclist must know the difference and distance between the two. Setting out to meet the Man with the Hammer occasionally is just good training. Great read Frank.
@Buck Rogers
Stage 14 of the Giro d"italia on Sunday, June 5th,1988: Chiesa Valmalenco - Bormio, 120 km. At the end of Stage 13, Franco Chioccioli (Del Tongo) was in pink leading Urs Zimmerman by 33 seconds. Andy Hampsten was 5th overall at 1:18.
Stage 14 was the now legendary Gavia stage won by Erik Breukink by 7 seconds from Hampsten. By day's end, Hampsten was in pink, Chioccioli was 3rd at 3:54! Hampsten was the beneficiary of smart planning by his coach who anticipated the weather and made sure his riders were as well dressed as possible with gloves and hats. No so for poor Franco whose DS had no hat, gloves or warm jersey for his rider. Result? an almost 5 minute loss on the stage and his Giro hopes destroyed.
Great piece. Now that spring seems to be making an occasional appearance in WI, good rides are keenly anticipated (rather than the "I just need to get out and do something other than ride my trainer, no matter how cold it is.") Saturday's looking good for I'd say at least 80-90kms. We'll see how far we can go on water . . .
I've been working weekends for months now, so no long rides have been had.
Last weekend rode for 3 hours total, 2 with my riding pal. There is nothing better than rising early, riding for a few hours, and being back home while half of the dummies in the neighborhood are sitting around in pajamas scratching their bed heads.
Life is too short to sleep in!
I commute on an empty stomach, but once I hit 2 hours of saddle time, I need intake or else I'm doomed.
I find that when riding on the rivet, no matter how well trained or how well I think I am fueling my body, I exit the bike in a slight haze. There is no way that I can train in a fasted state (with my hypoglycemia) and have any resemblance of a quality effort. But, for those that are able to train while fasted, most do experience a marginal benefit. Recently, at their training camp, team Sky did a morning mountain climb while fasted.
A key for me and my weak will power would be to follow a route devoid of cafés and déppaneurs, otherwise I fear I would cave. This fasting ride thing may appeal to @theEngine though, with his coach ordered 200+ km weekend training rides.
@wiscot
(inspiring to me) Franco Chioccioli finishes the Giro d'Italia 5th overall that year 1988. 1989 finished 5th overall again. 1990 finished 6th overall. Finally in 1991 he finishes 1st – over all.
Giro d'Italia, tappa 14, 1988 was a good day to ride.
Making plans to meet Chioccioli at the Giro d’Italia 100˚ next year.
Planning to ride Passo di Gavia in my lifetime, so why not 2017. Hoping to have pedale forchetta with me and all others willing to go.