On Rule #9: Love the Work
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.
Hear, hear! Back in my racing days I used to train in some pretty shitty conditions. Cold, wet and windy. I used to console myself that my competitors were likely staying home in the dry and warm. My results were often pretty good – especially in the early season – as those miles paid off before everyone else caught up.
As the long-deceased Shug Donald of the Regent CC used to say with regard to bad weather and appropriate gear, “the only thing that keeps you dry’s the hoose!” (There may have been an expletive or two thrown in there too.)
Finally, damn, Fignon was stylish. Just look at the adherence to the three point system and that even in abysmal conditions, he still looks magnificently Pro.
I’ve said it before but I actually like riding in the “off” season more than in the sun and dry roads of summer. Being kitted up and out on the road when all the pussies are warm and cozy gives me a sense of “sanctification” i.e. being set apart for greater things. Yesterday I was getting kitted up and my wife asked why there was bare skin showing between the warmers and the socks. I explained (once again) the concept of the “pro look” and that the warmers should stop right at the widest part of the calf. In the past she use to roll her eye but now she’s coming around and she gives a knowing smile when I explain the ways of the Velominati.
T-minus 8 days until the V-Gillet. Then my life will be complete.
Well said, bro. And I love this picture of the Professor. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it. I’ve just started “We Were Young and Carefree” so this is timed well.
Wholeheartedly agree with this – there is nothing as good as being the one dishing out the pain and if you choose to ride through the winter rain and grit your reward is a depth of suffering that lesser competitors can’t understand.
That said – the best bit about not racing anymore is not training in sleet and snow for 5 hours with just an energy bar for company.
If only it wasn’t so fucking dangerous. Suffering need not include sliding on wet pave to one’s doom under the wheels of a bus.
“It dawns on me that there is but like 2 square centimeters of rubber connecting me to the gound, and this tiny little helmet. I just don’t want to die out there today. But nobody said being a cyclist was going to be easy…” -Jens
This is something I need to work hard on, especially with my commitment to not lose fitness over the winter like I did last year. The trainer is OK during the week, but I told myself I need to do at least one good weekend ride out on the road every week this winter, no matter what.
Riding in the rain can be fun and exhilarating for me if it starts while I’m already out, but starting a ride while it’s raining takes a bit more mental fortitude on my part. Hopefully I can HTFU and not back out of these weekend rides as the weather turns sour, as I’d only be cheating myself – with the results being delayed suffering to get back into ‘form’ (I don’t know if I’d call my fitness level ‘form’) in the spring, which is what a dearly want to avoid.
Thanks to a century and the Whidbey cogal, I did more kms and more vertical meters than any other months so far this year, so I’m off to a good start for winter. Hopefully I can keep it up…
@eightzero
But that is half the fun when people are like, “Isn’t that dangerous?” Yes, yes it is, but it is one of the most enjoyable things I do.
I wrote this for The Ride Journal some times ago, hope you enjoy.
In Autumn club rides are fantastic for 3 reasons:
first the weather conditions are less extreme than in August or July when the hot temperature and high humidity are a constant.
Then, since days are becoming shorter and shorter and in a few weeks we’ll be in the dark, we try to enjoy every meter of the ride.
Moreover, the countryside in the Southern outskirts of the city under the low sun of the 18:00 o’clock succeeds in persuading us that we are not living in a big and polluted city in the industrialized Northern Italy, Milano.
Our is actually not a club ride … I mean it is not the ride of one club, it is the biggest gathering of all the amatorial squadre of Milano.
To be a bit epic, it’s someting that could resemble the summit of all the gangs in ‘The Warriors’ film, as the group easly reach the 100 units every Tuesday and Thursday during the Summer season.
Now the name: we are quite famous in Milano, you have to ask for the Giro dei Manetta that could be translated in ‘the ride at full throttle’, and there’s no need of further explanations.
This is actually an unregulated race on open road with the same curse since many years. And since my first attempts to complete the loop in the ’80’s, I’ve really changed the way I’m part of it. I’ve started enjoying the adrenaline of the competition, the roller coaster course, the high speed and all the macho-muscular-boaster poses that I thought a racer should have. Now, even if apparently nothing has changed, – or maybe thanks to a better training which allows us to go faster – I’m really enjoying what cycling is all about: not the adrenaline that you can find in almost every sport, but the act of pedalling, the speed, the behaviour of the bike at 50km/h, the mental process to find the right moment to jump. In a nutshell, now I’m more appasionated because I can enjoy every aspect of the ride, I enjoy the ride itself.
A funny thing is that some Manettas say that for them having a good result in these rides is as satisfying as in a real races, no difference at all.
Even if there’s no reward for the winner, everyone really fights to obtain success because in that case he gains respect from the group, which is an important thing in the non written law of cycling.
Be competitive is very difficult and just to complete the loop is a good result because, a part from the high speed, dirty tricks are common, playing with traffic lights is mandatory, taking short cuts could be a way to slow down the heartbeats and then attack when into the group again… it’s really a carousel and, lucky to say, accidents are very rare and, thanks God, so far never serious.
Very rapidly we’ll be in Winter and the usual evening ride will be performend in Milano in a sort of closed course with virtually no crossing and a short flyover to simulate a slope. The number of partecipants will be in an inverse relation with the temperature and I know that at one point (usually when we reach 0 degrees C) I’ll be alone… but it’s in that precise moment that I start thinking and dreaming about how it’ll be exhilarating when it is Spring again and the ‘ride calendar’ will be full again of dates marked in red: those of the Giro dei Manetta.
Ah, and this is the flyover…
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
Anyone reading this would think we are all barking (including me until a year ago)…… but it is soooo true
I often wonder, given the fact the Sunday morning run seems to be the toughest and best attended of our club runs (well, non-novice anyway), if this is actually some sort of religion?
Riding in rain, if it’s like last weekend over here, is shit after a while, but a little bit of rain and a strong tailwind certainly does bring you right down to a small moving cube of existence, which is a bizarrely peaceful and beautiful place – that said, group riding suddenly removes the joy as you eat roadshit off the guy’s wheel in front
It’s odd, but I’ve taken to riding more and more by myself – maybe that’s an off season thing??
I am really looking foward to getting those arm warmers for my early morning Saturday rides. And since life does get in the way(even though it will pay off in the end) I really need to get my indoor training regiment on.
@Dr C
Any experience with race blades?
@mcsqueak
Yeah I can see the fun of being out and it starts to rain. The problem down here is that drivers panic the minute it starts. Add to that the oil baked roads and you get a cluster fuck for accidents.
Now if I could just get over this damn cough I’d be back in the rain.
I’ve always found that heading out in the cold rain is one of the hardest things to mentally prepare for, but once out on the road, that first bead of water falling down the face, tasting the sweat, road grime, and water on your lips, that is the most motivating force on the planet. At that moment I know that I am unstoppable, and I can’t help but lift the pace. Either the suffering gets easier or I am more willing to endure it, either way i find some of my most productive riding comes in the rain.
@DerHoggz
Not used them myself, I just have the ugly sticky out plastic fender suspended in an ugly fashion of my beautiful carbon seatpost with an ugly twist in it due to manufacturing ugliness
Aesthetically the blades look much more the part, and indeed they keep the rain off the arse of the guy in front, whilst most of the road shit has left the tyre already, on a trajectory directly in line with the poor sod’s open mouth behind, so to that effect they are not much better for the guy behind than nothing at all, IMHO
@DerHoggz
I have something very similar. Planet Bike’s version I think. I like them and they go on and off in a flash. They keep your ass dry and most of the gunk/wet off your feet. I got caught by an unexpected heavy shower last weekend sans guards and my feet were very quickly cold and wet. The seat pad in my knicks started getting pretty sodden and unpleasant. Fortunately I was only 24kms from home . . .
When the weather’s crap, it really is too easy to skip the ride and deny Rule #5. These guards make riding in the pish a lot more bearable. Also, they look kinda sporty so they aren’t aesthetically unpleasant – always a consideration for Velominati.
@DerHoggz
I use RoadRacer MkII’s
Works lika a charm, and doesn’t look like ass!
http://www.crudproducts.com/products/roadracer/
@mcsqueak
Dude, You need to Rule #5/9 it this winter and you’ll be killin’ it in the spring. I used to live in Vancouver, WA and was a bike messenger in Portland. Nothing like spending 8 hours a day in the cold and wet and then having a 1 hour ride home in the same waiting for you. The flip side was that I was in awesome shape – too bad it was wasted on BMX racing huh Frank.
One question. What brand of fender is the Prof using in the picture? Exactly.
@Cyclops… When? I rode for Transerv in Stumptown thru the winter of ’90. (Yeah, I’m an old fart.) Went out climbing after a long layoff and was stunned by what just riding 8 hrs a day did for my finger strength.
@Cyclops
Yeah, I don’t have any excuse not to besides my own mental softness – when it’s raining it’s usually not freezing, and when it’s freezing cold it’s usually not snowing, so besides just being soaking wet for a few hours it isn’t so bad (I tell myself, from my warm office).
Oh, and in the spirit of the season:
What do cyclist zombies go after?
CHAAAAAAAAINSSS!
@Semilog
I rode for Transerv for a few months and ’89 or ’90 sounds about right. But I mostly rode for Cascade Blueprinting. I was one of the long haired punks on the BMX bikes and the big Schwinn truck bikes. Nothing like bombing down S.W. 6th with about 80 lbs. of blueprints in the basket of the truck bike and laying on the coaster brakes. You’d lay a skid mark about a half block long and everybody’s attention.
Roll on the cold weather and the 200k rides “just getting the miles in” i think i enjoy December January and February more than the racing season. Especially the last 40k on Sunday when we’re on the rivet in the cold and if its starting to sleet and its a headwind all the better.
Again, that pic of le Prof is so fucking rad. It transfixes me (just like this one does) and embodies the sentiments of this article perfectly.
And in honor of northern hemisphere cross season, the spirit of Rule #9, and le Prof:
Than man never didn’t look PRO.
@northern hardman
Tomorrow morning: 220k solo ride planned (this will get me to my stated goal for the year). Temperature might top out at 4 above. The anticipation even spills into this evening. What to wear?
@Marko
PRO and classy””not always synonyms. I’ve never seen a picture of le Professeur I didn’t like. And note, of course, that his moniker starts with an important three letters.
@Dr C
Interesting observation because we have the same phenomenon around here, you might be on to something here…….
@Steampunk
220km of winter solo hardness to rack up the 500Km target, chapeau! Have an awesomely wet and cold day!
As for what to wear I’m rather liking my Rapha merino wool beany for under the helmet warmth. Wish I’d gone for that over the cycling hat on Saturday!
@itburns
I hear ya, but then again, Le Prof had someone else to clean his bike and do his laundry . . .
@Steampunk
I’ve about 600 kms to do to reach my 10k target by the end of the year. Saturday’s ride (120kms) started in the low single digits but was increasingly enjoyable as the temp went up by about 10 degrees or so. 220kms at this time of year in one go is seriously hardcore. I think my summer max was 200. Good luck and good weather!
@wiscot
Yeah, we break the rules, but we’re out there.
Winter Solstice 200K
@Chris
Thanks. V-kit is the only way to go. The real question boils down to what to put on my hands. Bit warm for the lobster claws, but chilly enough that the full-fingered gloves might make for cold digits. I think I might be establishing a need for an in-between pair of gloves…
@Pedale.Forchetta
Very nice, thanks Pedale. For some reason I remember rides in terrible weather better than the nice ones, mostly because the best riders in town are desperate to find someone to ride with (everything’s coming up Millhouse…) and I slink in. They’re not fraught because you’re riding with some very good bike handlers who ride an even tempo, they don’t mind the rain or being wet, and I’m often in awe of how well they handle the conditions. In New Zealand our overseas pros come home late in winter here, and they’re a good shot of encouragement to get us back on the road.
@Steampunk
Defeet has some great full-fingered black wool gloves with textured bits on the underside so you can shift without worrying about your fingers slipping. Not waterproof, but warm enough for cool days and not bulky (also no palm padding).
Question – do trainer kilometers count? Counting time on the trainer I’m over 6k so far – if I keep at it I might hit 7500km for the year.
@Cyclops
Nope. Only kilometers logged on the road bike. I’ve probably done another 1000km commuting and MTB. Trainer last winter is a haze””no idea how much I rode, but probably not a great deal.
@razmaspaz
Exactly. Completely agree; the weather wraps you in a little blanket. I don’t think I’ve ever found La Volupte in good weather; always when riding through a cloudbank or through the rain. Something about those elements just amplifies all those things that are great about cycling.
Though I’ve ridden in the rain so much now, that I look out the window, see the rain pouring down and run for my bike – I actually find it easier to motivate for a ride knowing its raining because I know how good it will feel. Also knowing how it will feel to jump in the shower after a cold rainy ride and how the warm water will feel as I warm up.
Awesomeness.
@Marko
Great book. This pic is from some book; had it scanned for ages waiting for this article to be written. I love it. It also doesn’t seem he’s racing – there is no race number on his bike. The wet jacket, the hairnet. It’s pure class.
I must be 1987, since he’s still on his gitane with Renault colors, but he’s wearing Super-U bibs. Not sure, though.
@Pedale.Forchetta
Beautiful!
@Dr C
I do use the word “committed” a lot in the piece. Stop to think of which meaning of the word I intended?
Well Frank, goes without saying here in the PNW. You want to stay fit, you gotta ride in the shit. ‘Sides, coming home all drenched and covered in road grime is way “harder”.
Sorry so large, but that’s how you look after a road ride in February around these parts.
Great piece frank and as Marko has pointed out, twice, the Professor’s photo is perfectly fitting.
We don’t get the definite seasons down here in Sydney. It gets hot and humid, cold and the last few years has seen an increase in rainfall after a very long drought due to “el Nino and la Nina”.
I had forgotten what it was like to ride in the rain and while it’s not ideal, one does find oneself in a cocoon like environment. Focused entirely on the task at hand, feeling even more as one with the machine.
@Dr C
Totally understand this, i.e. finding yourself doing more solo rides. I’m the same the older I get. While my daughter tells me it’s because I have no friends, as much as I enjoy the camaradrie of a group, it’s the being alone on a bike that I seem to enjoy more at times.
@mcsqueak, @RedRanger, @eightzero
I don’t really agree that it’s much more dangerous, at least not in a tangible way – assuming you’re not out riding in the first rain after a dry spell and you’ve got all the embedded oils from the cars getting released and turning the roads in an ice rink, as RR suggests.
But cycling is dangerous, period. That’s why I choose the least traveled roads; I spend months reconning my routes to find the best ones with the least traffic. Then I ride defensively aggressive.
But you can marginalize many of the risks that come with the rain. I take elementary precautions like lowering tire pressure just a bit and riding cautiously through corners and over bits of road where there might be a bit of slippery shit. The big-leaf maples, for instance, create a real mess here in the fall, as their enormous, rain-soaked leaves are a disaster to ride over.
As far as being visible, I have flashers on the front, a spazmatoid flasher on the back along with a flasher on each handlebar drop and, once it arrives, a Fi’z:k flasher under the saddle. I actually think I’m more visible in the rain that on a sunny day. Not to mention that traffic is generally more alert in bad weather as well.
I can control the bits that make riding in the rain tricky and through a willingness to look like a Christmas Tree, I’m also very visible. Always be careful, alert, and aggressively defensive.
Knock on wood, of course, because now I’ve cursed myself.
@itburns
+1.
@all
They are called mud guards, and they are inherently in violation of Rule #5 and Rule #9. There is not, however, a Rule against them. Best to go clip-on and find something that serves the purpose if you must. But like mirrors and flashing lights, lets keep the discussion of them to a minimum.
@thatsrando
Outstanding. What a great concept and execution. I did a few 200kms AUDAX events in Scotland when I lived there. Couldn’t go too fast or two slow which crimped the style of the by racers. It was a great way to get some base kms in for the season though. My club used to do an annual “midnight run” in late June, but comparatively speaking, that was easy compared to you guys – we only get maybe 3 hours of darkness. A winter solstice run in Scotland would involve about 17 hours of darkness!
@wiscot
I’m not entirely sure that’s true; it looks like he’s training, and back then they warshed their own schizzle, usually in the sink!
@thatsrando
Awesome and welcome. I see you guys around town; one of the best looking kits around. And, if you break a Rule in the night when all you can see is your headlight, does anyone even notice?
@frank
As you say, around here every rain is the first rain in the sense that rain is few and far between. so there is always a ton of oil on the roads, at intersections the most. about 5 minutes into a rain around here and you can hear the emergency sirens. add to that the fact that we dont have top soil but instead clay and roads not built to drain water and we get plenty of flooding. its a clusterfuck. around here Rule #9 revolves around riding in the extreme heat. now if I lived in the PNW where folks are skilled in driving in the rain then I would have no problem.