One of the great dichotomies of being a Cyclist is that of our commitment to suffering paired against our fastidious attention to our appearance. We sacrifice endlessly for the sake of our craft, suffering hours on end in horrendous weather and diverting any money saved on depriving ourselves of food into maintaining and improving our equipment. At the same time, our morale hangs in the balance, governed by the silence of the machine we ride, the precision and coordination of our kit, or the state of our handlebar tape.
It has long fascinated me, the control that morale holds over our condition as riders. Training is obviously a fundamental component to our performance, but the edge of our form is sharpened or blunted by our mental state. Bad weather is a major lever for me personally; the more rubbish the weather, the better I feel about myself just for being out there and thus the better I ride. Which brings to light the underlying principle: it isn’t about vanity as much as it is about genuinely feeling good about ourselves, an idea concisely captured by Fournel’s Theorem: to look good is already to go fast.
It should come as no surprise to anyone that I take great pride and put a tremendous amount of energy into my appearance, both on the bike and off. Don Walker, who built my Hour track bike, remarked that if I spent half as much time training as I did worrying about the paint job, I’d stand half a chance at beating the record. (That’s two halves, are they additive or multiplicative?) The notion is nonsense, of course, although the observation does have a certain logical resonance. But what he is missing is the amount of Awesome I’ll feel climbing aboard the bike with matching VLVV skin suit; enough Awesome to power ten morons, plus two. You can’t train against that kind of Awesome, you have to fabricate it.
When out training, I shamelessly peer into every plate glass window I encounter, taking in how Fantastic I Look. In fleeting observations more akin to stop-action motion than live-film, I study my position, my weight, my stroke, and how my kit looks and fits. I’ll repeat this: shamelessly. And I’m willing to bet you do, too, even if you’re not willing to admit to it as flagrantly as I am. We never get to see ourselves busily at work at our craft; who doesn’t like a serendipitous acknowledgement of the fruits of our labor?
If you’re not window shopping, you’re doing it wrong. Or you’re lying.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@PeakInTwoYears
Ah, of course! I should always remember that whenever I attempt to correct I get correctly corrected...
Apropos of shopping; perhaps add six of these to the list for this weekend?
http://inrng.com/2016/03/kwaremont-beer-review/#more-27839
Guilty as fuck. At it's best on the last sections of a long ride, where you're eking the last energy from your legs into burst of flat out speed, deep in the drops or Beligian-style, back flat as a pancake...
@litvi
The above mentioned Fournel's Theorem: to look good is already to go fast, can be supplanted by Fournel's False Theorem: To believe one looks good is already to feel fast.
If you are going to operate on that basis, I'd suggest avoiding any reflections whilst on the bike as your riding position is worst in terms of suspending disbelief. You might be able to maintain the illusion walking past the cafe window or in front of your bedroom mirror* when you can pull it all in but not on the bike and certainly not in the drops.
*it's important to practice ordering your double espresso in front of the bedroom mirror without actually breathing.
I do exactly this. Im not ashamed to admit it, either.
Great article.
@PeakInTwoYears
I saw that in the bit below the picture, the um.... article, that's it, and assumed Frank was intelligent enough to know the difference.
A joke, for all intensive porpoises.
This just went into the number 1 spot on the queue, as soon as I have reason to fit it into a conversation.
I couldn't agree more, looking good is essential to cycling (and most other things in life). I could run to break a sweat and get a workout and maybe even meet a very angry Man with the Hammer wondering where the hell my bike is. But moving my appendages wildly in some aggravated attempt at a workout while not actually doing it to save life or limb just sounds like a complete waste of time. Not to mention that pretty much no one looks Fantastic running.
@Barracuda
Oh yeah, that's it right there! There's only one hill for me that I can get that kind of shadow on - usually heading for home on fall rides. I do seek it out.
As for windows, not many around my way, but coming home through Kewaskum offers several big glass storefronts. It's eyes right heading home, eyes left heading out.
@ChrisO
I assumed so, too, at first, but the harder I thought about it* the less "vagrantly" made sense as a joke. Still, a nice article and one that resonates with any Cyclist. "Ten morons plus two" made me smile.
*This was probably my error.
"Is my back flat?" "How's my leg extension?" "Heels down?"
Not a fan of using the term "moron" however ....