The Janus of Suffering

Time for a different kind of suffering.

I came strongly into the Fall, stronger than in other years thanks to a late-season objective to do well at my first Heck of the North gravel classic in Minnesota. I was light and I had built good power and endurance by riding the steep gravel roads that pepper the North Cascades and suffering through brutal interval sessions on the windswept stretch of road along Shilshole Bay. I was good at hurting myself.

With the race behind me and the first of the next season’s objectives many months away, I entered into what in many ways is my favorite time of year to ride: Winter. The months between objectives at that time of year provides a kind of serenity on the bike that is hard to find when goals are looming. Focus shifts away from building a sharpness in the muscles and towards putting in long base kilometers at steady speeds. There is no need to push hard on the climbs, just slip into a nice tempo and explore the beautiful quiet of a steady rhythm.

With that serenity comes a different kind of suffering; not so acute but where the cold winds and rains harden the mind against the long hours of discomfort and somatic pain. Simply staying on the bike all day, riding from sun up to sun down, is suffering in itself. The willpower and discipline needed to hold the course and do the Work is itself an entirely different but very real kind of suffering – even if the suffering is not intense at any given moment.

But as Winter slowly loosens it grip and the days grow longer, so too do the objectives for the coming season loom nearer. It is time to pull myself out of steady rhythms and once again build towards the sharp sensations of a hard effort. I find I’ve nearly forgotten how to do it; my body resists the signals coming from the mind; its first impulse is to employ the Scotty Principle, I’m givin’ ‘er all she’s got captain! It seems my mind has forgotten that whenever it gets that message, there is always another 10 or 20 percent left to to be taken from the body.

Janus is the Roman god of beginnings and transitions; he has two faces – one looking to the past and one to the future. I’m transitioning from one kind of suffering into another; the work I did yesterday will make tomorrow’s ride a little bit better. My mind navigates through the mixed signals it receives, and the body responds and adapts. To transition is to explore the boundary between two seemingly separate entities. Science explores the boundary between ignorance and knowledge; art explores the boundary between reality and imagination; Cycling explores the boundary between the mind and body.

We are Cyclists. The rest of the world merely rides a bike.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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View Comments

Ron says:

Mar 18 2014 at 10:00 am

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...
Optimiste says:

Mar 18 2014 at 10:06 am

@Rob

@Fozzy Osbourne

...
All nice days are the same, but each shitty day is shitty in its own way. Rule #9 isn't an injunction for needless self-flagellation. Rule #9 is a reminder that the more extreme the conditions, the more rare, or even unique opportunities you'll have that day to learn new and better ways to ride hard. Rules pertaining to etiquette and aesthetic are important and awesome, but to me, Rule #9 and others like it are the ones that truly make us cyclists.

Go with Gaul

Fozzy, this has to be the best first post ever! You have put into words the feelings and experiences that I have had winter riding and that transition back to the warm. Especially the pure gold in that last paragraph! I look forward to those discussions about Cancellara's bid. Thanks and welcome.

+1! Rules #5, #9, and #10 are the Trifecta of Awesomeness. @Fozzy Osbourne You sound a little crazy. Welcome to the asylum.
VeloSix says:

Mar 18 2014 at 10:35 am

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!
cyclebrarian says:

Mar 18 2014 at 12:04 pm

@VeloSix

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!

The VMH usually just points to the laundry room when I come home.
Teocalli says:

Mar 18 2014 at 12:18 pm

@cyclebrarian

@VeloSix

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!

The VMH usually just points to the laundry room when I come home.

I know it's been a good V and 9 when I get home and the VMW says "Get in the shower and don't bother getting undressed first"
frank says:

Mar 18 2014 at 12:57 pm

@Xyverz

I'm slowly, but surely getting my legs back. Eventually, I'm sure my strength, endurance, and stamina shall return too. I have faith in Merckx on this.

Dude, you are the unluckiest ever. Shitty. But yeah, your fitness will come back - more quickly than you think. Your body remembers how to do this stuff, all you have to do is put in the work and the rest will do itself.

@brett

Normally at this time of year I'm in top shape... Keepers Tour looming, a summer of frequent long, hard rides behind me, tan lines crisp as a packet of Doritos.

You and me both, except the tan. Not too tan this end of the world yet. I'm glad the guns at least stay covered mostly for the time being; don't want to cause traffic accidents.

@Fozzy Osbourne

I made an account just to comment. This is a great, great article.

I work in Minneapolis as a messenger, and we feel it year round (because we ride all year, and if you're not feeling it, why ride?), but the utterly different nature of winter's physical and mental demands from those of summer isn't always easy for me to describe. Minneapolis and St. Paul had exactly 50 days below 0F this winter, and I rode most of them. Often, it was a lot of fun, but every day I was exhausted, having only ridden at 2/3 speed about 1/2 as far as I usually ride in the summer.

I've biked through winters before, but this one was rough, and at first, I was mentally unprepared to put those sorts of temperatures plus wind out of my mind and address the increasingly dubious road conditions (there were weeks on end where even the main roads seemed to have been zambonied). I'd never been robbed of my speed, then punished for not raising my heart-rate before. I also never really noticed how much my handling suffered when I was out of my comfort zone. Now, I have some sprint-practice and mild muscle rebuilding to do this spring on account of my pace reduction, but I see the last few months as an extended pain cave designed to make absolute focus an instinct rather than an effort.

All nice days are the same, but each shitty day is shitty in its own way. Rule #9 isn't an injunction for needless self-flagellation. Rule #9 is a reminder that the more extreme the conditions, the more rare, or even unique opportunities you'll have that day to learn new and better ways to ride hard. Rules pertaining to etiquette and aesthetic are important and awesome, but to me, Rule #9 and others like it are the ones that truly make us cyclists.

Go with Gaul

Quite an entry - welcome!

Minneapolis has a very cool Bike Messenger community; going back to Gene O and beyond.

I completely agree with your last sentiment; you really hit the nail on the head and expressed it better than I've possibly ever seen it expressed. Top marks!
frank says:

Mar 18 2014 at 1:00 pm

@revchuck

@frank, the feeling of going from base to race is a whole 'nuther ball game. In the South, we're already into race season. It's the first time I've done a real base effort - two months of 16-18 hour weeks - and that part of the motor is working well. Taking it off cruise control and flooring it at my first crit of the season showed there's a lot of work to be done on the top end. I'm currently enjoying the top end work - "If I live through these intervals, I'll be faster" - and it's all good.

Scratch that. It's all awesome.

I think you really have to love the process, otherwise you'll risk frustration. I love seeing the small changes. I'm working harder now and I love the way my lungs feel after a hard interval ride. Then even walking the stairs and feeling that my legs are harder and somehow feeling more sharp.

You have to delight in the process and find the motivation that way.

@Mike_P

@frank

Top marks, mate. Top marks.

An addendum though....why is it that now we are entering Spring, I'm finding my motivation to train on the slide? Having put in all the effort over the winter I just want to ride, not stick to the plan, which will lead to a backslide. Time to reflect on Rule #10 maybe.

Its not uncommon - I think we call this burnout but also you're in a rhythm; just riding is fun and easy while sticking to a plan take discipline. I think the best advise I have is what @revchuck and I are saying.

Stick to it mate.
cyclebrarian says:

Mar 18 2014 at 1:02 pm

@Teocalli

@cyclebrarian

@VeloSix

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!

The VMH usually just points to the laundry room when I come home.

I know it's been a good V and 9 when I get home and the VMW says "Get in the shower and don't bother getting undressed first"

I needed that laugh today, Teocalli! I rode the other day and decided to wear my 2mm kayaking gloves. When I got home, I could (literally) wring the sweat out of them. The VMH said 'I can smell those nasty things from over here...washer, now!' I think I subconsciously do those sorts of things just to get that kind of reaction.
frank says:

Mar 18 2014 at 1:04 pm

@Steve-o

@Doug We cyclists seek to suffer in order to overcome the suffering. Non-cyclists don't get it. It's what puts us above the rest.

This.

@VeloSix

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!

I keep forgetting to pull it all out of the washing machine. Then she heads down there to wash some stuff and she's like, "EVERY FUCKING TIME, YOU LEAVE THAT SHIT IN THERE!"

...of course, half of the kit is hers, but still.

@Teocalli

@cyclebrarian

@VeloSix

@Ron

By the end of the winter I also get tired of looking for places to hang wet cycling gear, especially in spots that won't upset the VMH.

Wet oversocks dripping on the hardwood floors can really put a damper on evenin' romance...

Ditto!

The VMH usually just points to the laundry room when I come home.

I know it's been a good V and 9 when I get home and the VMW says "Get in the shower and don't bother getting undressed first"

...or opening the garage door with the implication that there shall be no walking through the house in that state!
wiscot says:

Mar 18 2014 at 1:27 pm

@Fozzy Osbourne

I made an account just to comment. This is a great, great article.

I work in Minneapolis as a messenger, and we feel it year round (because we ride all year, and if you're not feeling it, why ride?), but the utterly different nature of winter's physical and mental demands from those of summer isn't always easy for me to describe. Minneapolis and St. Paul had exactly 50 days below 0F this winter, and I rode most of them. Often, it was a lot of fun, but every day I was exhausted, having only ridden at 2/3 speed about 1/2 as far as I usually ride in the summer.

I've biked through winters before, but this one was rough, and at first, I was mentally unprepared to put those sorts of temperatures plus wind out of my mind and address the increasingly dubious road conditions (there were weeks on end where even the main roads seemed to have been zambonied). I'd never been robbed of my speed, then punished for not raising my heart-rate before. I also never really noticed how much my handling suffered when I was out of my comfort zone. Now, I have some sprint-practice and mild muscle rebuilding to do this spring on account of my pace reduction, but I see the last few months as an extended pain cave designed to make absolute focus an instinct rather than an effort.

All nice days are the same, but each shitty day is shitty in its own way. Rule #9 isn't an injunction for needless self-flagellation. Rule #9 is a reminder that the more extreme the conditions, the more rare, or even unique opportunities you'll have that day to learn new and better ways to ride hard. Rules pertaining to etiquette and aesthetic are important and awesome, but to me, Rule #9 and others like it are the ones that truly make us cyclists.

Go with Gaul

Chapeau to you sir! In in WI and it's been brutal down here - I know you've had it worse. At least I get to choose when I ride - you do it for a living. I can't imagine the shitty days you've had to ride in. Merckx knows I've done a few rides this year where drivers have easily questioned my sanity (as have I), but you're right, it's the extreme rides we do that we remember. Incidents aside, who remembers those nice rides on 70 degree days? It's the 25 degrees with extra wind chill or 105 degrees with humidity that stick in the memory.