On Rule #5: Not Minding That It Hurts

Lawrence of V-rabia

In my favorite scene from Lawrence of Arabia, T.E. Lawrence, after lighting a colleague’s cigarette, allows the match to burn down to his fingertips before snuffing it out. Having witnessed the stunt, the dim-witted associate attempts it himself, only to blow out the match before it gets anywhere close to burning down. “That damn well hurts!”, he states, barely concealing his amazement. “Certainly it hurts,” replies Lawrence with the cool calm of a man who is at ease with The V. “Well, what’s the trick then?”

“The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.”

The trick to becoming a better Cyclist depends, they say, on one’s capacity to suffer. Riding faster is easy, after all; all you have to do is push harder on those flat things attached to your feet. But that, as many of us have discovered, is the complicated bit.

Our ability to suffer is driven by our willingness to push ourselves, to resist the signals our bodies are sending – whether those signals tell us to stop an effort, to stay inside when the mercury drops, when the rain falls, or dipping into the cellar for a session on the trainer rather than for a bottle of wine. To walk the difficult path of becoming a better cyclist requires, in a word, willpower.

Many of the obstacles along that path require us to eschew the wisdom taught to us by our elders and society. Listen to your body, they tell us, when in fact our bodies are chatty things that have only a few sensible contributions to make. Stay inside when it’s wet, or you’ll catch cold, the folk knowledge claims, while in reality those who stay indoors are more likely to catch cold and if we were to heed that advice, we would rarely throw a leg over a top tube during non-summer months. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger… well, I suppose they had to get one right.

In practice, weakness breeds weakness and strength breeds strength. We may not allow ourselves to take the easy path, for nothing worth travelling to lies at the end of it. If we relent to the pain during an effort, it only makes it easier to do so again next time. Allowing ourselves to stay off the bike for today’s bad weather makes it easier to do so again tomorrow. On the other hand, enduring today’s cold steels us for tomorrow’s chill.

To claim we enjoy suffering, that we enjoy the pain of an effort, or that we enjoy riding in the wet and cold is a bit misleading. While I believe there might be those who possess a perversion that does indeed allow them to enjoy pain, for most of us, we have merely discovered that the burning of our muscles today strengthens them for tomorrow. We have learned that submitting to the deluge or climbing aboard the trainer in winter helps build towards a result that won’t  be realized until our planet reaches the next equinox. Rather than enjoying suffering, we enjoy what suffering does for us and have learned through practice to associate current pains with future gains.

Personally, I enjoy riding in the rain more than most, certainly when it comes as a refreshing change from riding on dry roads. I enjoy the rain splashing up from the road, or the cold air in my face. But to say I cherish riding throughout the cold and wet Winter months is certainly an overstatement. During this time of year, I have to push myself to go for a ride every single time. When I am warm inside, there is no part of me that wants to pull on cold-weather gear knowing I will be cold and uncomfortable for the duration of the ride. Instead of thinking about whether I want to ride, I simply do it; focusing on desire or comfort does little to improve the condition. Quite the opposite, in fact – a frozen toe is better left not contemplated when one lacks the means to warm it up.

The trick to becoming a better cyclist doesn’t have so much to do with our capacity to suffer. Certainly we suffer; the trick is not minding that we suffer.

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184 Replies to “On Rule #5: Not Minding That It Hurts”

  1. “…or dipping into the cellar for a session on the trainer rather than for a bottle of wine…” and therein lies my constant winter challenge, that voice whispering in my ear: Turbo or Bordeaux?

  2. check me out – first to post!

    Frank you are definitely now, officially, a fully qualified GP – my keys are at reception, I’ll be back in a month or two….

    I hope you can get the above point across to the punters better than I can

    For myself, I am not sure I particularly enjoy the cold and wet, but the post suffering karma is so intense, it always makes it worthwhile, unless you require an amputation

    Yesterday morning we gathered at out sailing club, pishing snow, windy and generally not very inviting – after I issued a Haka, in the direction of those on the point of going to get the Sunday Times and their slippers, 12 intrepid nutters succumbed and hit the water – it was friggin awesome, blowing its nuts off, and I have never been so roundly thanked as I was by those same 11 as they supped their Guinness and munched their crisps with rosy hot faces afterwards

    Suffering is good

  3. @Dr C

    @roadslave
    damn, I swore I got in there first, now I just sound like an eejit!

    Ah! But the trick is not to mind sounding like an eejit. Which, as far as I can work out, is a prerequisite for membership in this community of friends…

  4. @Dr C

    Ha Ha

    Nice post Frank, though I might argue in favour of David Lean’s stunning cinematography as a better choice of favourite scene.

    But to take up your point, I am not often given to motivational quotes and other such rubbish, but one that I saw on someone’s t-shirt and has stayed with me is:
    “Training is the Opposite of Hoping”

    I tell myself that on the days when I have to get up and do intervals.

  5. Ah, Dr C – that Ha Ha was supposed to have fake ‘code’ next to it saying Nelson, as in the Simpsons character.

    Evidently my code was too good because it has been filtered out !

  6. Great post, Frank, and something I have been ruminating on (cogitating, indeed) lately: that the romance of “our agony””our badge of honor””our sin” is something that rarely happens in the moment. The state of mind in the moment is markedly different””and terrifically encapsulated in not minding that it hurts.

    Of course, sports science can reduce a cyclist’s abilities to a series of tests surround power, weight, etc. Leaving us fans with the desire/hope that will counts for something bigger…

  7. On Saturday evening, I realised that family commitments would only allow me to get out for a ride on Sunday if I was back at the house by 9am. When the alarm went off at 4.55am my head told me I had a cold and a sore throat on the way, my gouty knee was complaining loudly about the intake of Big Red Wines during the recent festivities in honour of Mrs Chris’ birthday. It would have been too easy to listen.

    As I was getting dressed and sipping the pre-ride double espresso, my eight year old poked his head round the door and asked if it was time to get up. When I told him it was only 5am and to go back to bed he looked as though I was completely deranged.

    Three hours and a few minutes later my head felt clear and alive and although my knee was still a bit angry (it felt fine on the ride) I had the inner peace and mental strength hop on a crowded train into London and sit through “Shrek – The Musical”. I did not mind that it hurt.

  8. Wow, I went to see the local scary film festival last Friday. One of the trailers prior to seeing 1962’s “Cape Fear” was for 1962’s…Lawrence of Arabia. I was completely unaware of this movie, and now…Frank, that’s crazy timing!

  9. WOAH, Shrek the musical…I haven’t even gotten anywhere near the movie. Jeez, Chris, you are a HardMan for enduring that!

  10. My experience with this happened during the end of Hurricane Irene. Lining up on the start line, Irene joins in without asking. Great… three hours of rain wind and hailing. While chassing a carrot down the road. I got dropped during a crash and didn’t put myself deep enough in the HurtZone, could not bridge over.

    What followed was a long lonely ride in. Hands numb, unnable to shift. Braking at this point was useless, only way is forward. From desperation, climbed to a state of focus that led me deeper into pain. I finished the race and placed ignominiously.

    However, on that day I realy learned something. I cannot say what but I feel like a better cyclist and now see that the road ahead has a lot more to teach me.

  11. Another good read Frank thanks.

    @ChrisO
    “Training is the opposite of hoping” I like it.

    For me once you get over the fear of the suffering or cold and actually get out there on the bike, it’s never as bad as the expectations. If I’ve had to have my arm twisted to get out for a ride, by the time I get home I always have a big grin on my face. Sunday’s just above 0 degrees C ride being a case in point (although I was the arm twister this time), no wind out, strong wind in our faces all the way home, but well worth it. We had a new member in the group too, riding a track Cinelli with a fixed wheel, should I work on him to get a proper road bike?

  12. I truly love to push myself into the clutches of pain, to see how much I can handle before I start to bend a bit, but, as Fronk says, it is not for the moment of the pain, that just sucks, but for the warming up, for the sipping of the bourbon later, the warm shower and while experiencing those things after the session of pain and remembering the cold and the hurt and contracsting it to the now.

    Food never tastes as sweet after having gone without for a few days, being warm is never as satisfying if you have not experienced real cold and the memory of pain is never as sweet as when reflecting on what you have endured while you’re sitting with your legs are up, warm and twitching, after another brutal Rule #9 ride with a heavy dose of Rule V thrown in.

    Great piece Fronk, esp apropos after your ride yesterday, from what I hear.

  13. @Ron

    Wow, I went to see the local scary film festival last Friday. One of the trailers prior to seeing 1962″²s “Cape Fear” was for 1962″²s…Lawrence of Arabia. I was completely unaware of this movie, and now…Frank, that’s crazy timing!

    One of my all time favorite movies. I own the wide screen extra-length version and make my kids watch it once a year (I’m sure they’ll hate it for life now!)

    It was one of my main inspirations for going to the Dark Side of the Army for 5 years. His book, “Seven Pillars of Wisdom” is just amazing as well. Required reading for any SF guys that I knew.

  14. One of my favourite movies – I have a tentative family connection: my grandfather was an ANZAC who after Gallipoli wound up in the western desert as camel-drawn artillery, and participated in the relief of Damascus with Lawrence and the Bedouin. After my gran died his papers got released – it was quite interesting to read about the odd charge or two and an episode of er, downstairs itching.

    I dig riding in bad weather for the same reasons I dig riding at night: having adventures in places too easy to take for granted. I have a favourite ride through the bush around Mt Taranaki – it’s amazing what a different experience it is at night or in the rain – at night there’s all manner of strange things humping each other; in the rain the odours of the rainforest multiply and hang in the air. All welcome distraction from the business of hurting my legs…

  15. Yeah it’s been chilly here recently, days are starting out below 0 and get up to 4 or 8 c.

    I’d rather have it be cold than rainy, but when your ears feel like they are going to freeze off for the first few miles, the dry air makes your throat hurt as you inhale deeply on the climbs, and your toes start to ache after an hour or two from the cold seeping into your shoes it certainly makes you think dark thoughts about weakness and failure while out on your ride. Fighting the urge to turn home early becomes a monumental task in itself.

    For me, the best way to really push myself harder and further is to get myself out where going home easily isn’t an option. Many of my rides around town are within a ~16 km radius of my house. But my biggest and best rides are always farther out from home, so simply pointing the wheel towards home isn’t an easy option – the only option is to push myself and complete the ride. Standing to climb a hill on the Whidbey Island Cogal and having my legs cramp up after about 1,500 m of climbing? Painful but awesome at the same time.

  16. great post up Frank!
    you nail it again, and again, and again.

    This mental acceptance of suffering is indeed a graceful virtue that we as cyclists don each and every ride out.

    Acceptance of this good virtue does separate us from the 99% of others out there in our neighborhoods and communities. I see it every day, the laziness and apathy to move is killing our friends and kiddo’s. In my line of work, I diagnose and treat an unbelievable amount of new diabetics, and I believe it is inherently tied to their terrible diets and dismal lack of activity and this is across the board what affects our culture. In a word: convenience. Everything this is brought to us is convenient, void of suffering in any form or fashion. From the way we order food, to the way we eat it (ie paper and we don’t even do dishes), to remote controls, to shag carpet, it is all convenient and all to remove all suffering from our lives.

    now, not to be completely tangential here, but there is a goodness in our suffering, our pain, our passion. It utterly identifies us. Not any other sport puts a feather in their cap like we do, hanging our laurels in how we suffer. For example: football players will not suffer like we do, they sprain a thumb and their out; baseball…forget-aboutit, boxing..ok, they do, soccor..they do, but outside that few other sports relish in suffering like cyclists.

    That being said, as we do suffer, it may well preserve us and keep us in ways we hardly recognize. It certainly makes us better in many ways.

    so, see rule V and apply liberally and often
    rub it on your legs, pound it into your foreheads, embed it into your hearts

  17. i saw this on pez and thought of the suffering, with exclamation point as Moser freaking leads out the motorcycles!!…IF your doing THAT…your deep in the zone and really don’t mind.

  18. @Simon

    One of my favourite movies – I have a tentative family connection: my grandfather was an ANZAC who after Gallipoli wound up in the western desert as camel-drawn artillery, and participated in the relief of Damascus with Lawrence and the Bedouin. After my gran died his papers got released – it was quite interesting to read about the odd charge or two and an episode of er, downstairs itching.
    I dig riding in bad weather for the same reasons I dig riding at night: having adventures in places too easy to take for granted. I have a favourite ride through the bush around Mt Taranaki – it’s amazing what a different experience it is at night or in the rain – at night there’s all manner of strange things humping each other; in the rain the odours of the rainforest multiply and hang in the air. All welcome distraction from the business of hurting my legs…

    THAT is a cool piece of family history, right there!!! Really cool.

  19. @Steampunk

    @Buck RogersWow! Didn’t know that Lawrence wrote science fiction (I know, I know…).

    Yeah, that’s painful (but keeping in the tradition of most Canadian humor that I have experienced!)

  20. @ChrisO

    I might argue in favour of David Lean’s stunning cinematography .

    That’d be SIR David Lean to you and me. :)

  21. Great post again, Frank. But I am not sure that it is misleading to say we enjoy the suffering. The post-ride reflection on a job well done is clearly pleasurable. But so too, albeit in a different way, is the knowledge at the time of riding that your body is yelling ‘Whoa Bessy’ and that you are responding by pushing all the harder. That sense of overcoming your body’s (in my case extensive) limitations, of not minding that it hurts, is one of the things I like most about cycling.

    On a different note, and not with the intention of rubbing our Northern Hemisphere’s friends noses in it but merely by way of observation, the weather has proved sufficiently clement for me in the last two rides to eschew arm warmers and leg warmers. (I am usually pretty late to doff these accoutrements, so acknowledge the appropriatenes of the scoffing about to ensue from those fellow Kiwis who’ve not bothered wearing them all year.) And it has been a real joy to ride with arms and legs bared. For some reason I feel lighter climbing, and more agile on the bike. Which is ridiculous, as I am fatter than Fugslang and agile as a brick. But it’s the feeling that counts. Bared arms and legs mean warm riding, les riding under lights, that kind of thing. The spirits lift as. But as I reflected on this I recalled that my first ride of the year kitted out in full winter clothing also felt good. Somehow more pro, more ‘ready for anything’, altogether more serious than my comparatively whimsical summer attire. Which has, in turn, lead me to the following reflection: our sport is a grand fucking sport. While the essentials remain unchanged and unchanging, and the sport endures throughout the year, as the seasons change so does the riding. There’s always something new and different up the road ahead. Something to look forward to and ensure we don’t end up in a rut of same old same old. Something to ensure we are never bored. Something to ensure we always have a grin on our face. So to all Velominati facing the onset of a new season’s riding, chapeau. Enjoy. Get stuck in. Do not mind that it hurts.

  22. (Long time lurker, I think first time commeter)

    When I am warm inside, there is no part of me that wants to pull on cold-weather gear knowing I will be cold and uncomfortable for the duration of the ride.

    I’ve been biking to work this fall for the first time in a decade, and as the days have gotten shorter, wetter, and colder, it’s mentally much harder to get out of bed in the twilight, pull on layers, and get on the bike.

    Reliably, once my butt is in the seat, the cranks are pulling my feet in circles, and the steam is beginning to rise off of my chest at stop signs, there is joy. Joy that isnt washed away by rain, isn’t cowed by darkness, and isn’t immobilized by cold. Bad days at the office are pushed out through legs on the way home, and good days are amplified by the buzz of tires on pavement.

    There are few acts of defiance so satisfying as making the quads burn fiercely even as the entire world turns to ice and darkness.

  23. Funny how your list of riding buddies kind of dwindles down when the ride is hard, or cold, or windy, or rainy, or hilly. You are not exerting your will and influence on the bike, the weather or the ride. In fact, it is the opposite and frankly that is what makes it so rewarding. Today it is 17* outside. Later I’ll be out there getting spanked around by the the cold and next summer I’ll be better for it.

    http://hillsandheadwinds.blogspot.com/2011/12/something-to-push-me.html

  24. It’s posts like this that make me strive to be a better cyclist. I’ve only recently gotten into cycling, but it’s already completely devoured my life. All my discretionary funds are directed first and foremost at bikes and biking paraphernalia. Every commute to work is a joy. Every weekend ride is my reason for slogging through the week.

    I tell my friends and family about the grueling rides, the painful climbs, the almost constant throb and ache in my legs, and they raise their eyebrows and question my sanity.

    Embrace the V. La Vie Velominatus.

  25. @Steve Wilson
    just got heavily sidetracked by your hill&headwinds blog – nice one

    But yesterday the wind pushed me up that long hill – sweet. Like having your own personal team of tifosi.

  26. @Ron
    You were unaware of Lawrence of Arabia!?!? Go see it. Just remember to take food and water. It is a long one.

    Maybe a younger fellow might relate less to T.E. Lawrence and more to Mr Joshua

  27. Great post Frank, as always.

    There are some good thoughts here, and it seems that everyone is a little bit different in there thought process.

    For me the self massage in the scalding hot bath is one of the most enjoyable parts of a long ride in the cold for me. It may not help recovery like other methods, but it feels great and puts me to sleep.

  28. @Steampunk
    Right you are. Apologies, Daisy.

    @Steve Wilson
    Great bit of writing on your blog there. Thanks for linking.

    @Simon
    Is that a road ride or MTB? Would like to do the round the mountain ride, though probably can’t make the next one.

  29. @al

    @Steve Wilsonjust got heavily sidetracked by your hill&headwinds blog – nice one
    But yesterday the wind pushed me up that long hill – sweet. Like having your own personal team of tifosi.

    I do most of my riding on a long stretch of Pacific Coast Highway in Southern California. Great views, but the disadvantage is most of the time you’re in a crosswind (and a pretty good one at that). On an out ‘n back, you get hammered on the way out, and hammered on the way home–no free ride either way. Rule #5, indeed.

  30. @all
    Today is the anniversary of the 21st amendment. Victory against Prohibition! Enjoy.

  31. “…weakness breeds weakness and strength breeds strength”
    In regard to suffering, this statment resonates with me the most. I know that if I give up on a climb, it’s going to be a much harder climb mentally the next time around.

    In regard to riding in the wet, I don’t enjoy it much. But I do love the fact that it adds another dimension to the ride.

    With a newborn son, what gets me out the door on those cold rainy mornings is the fact that I know that the time I have to ride is short and infrequent. I often think to myself “If I don’t get out now, I’ll never get out.”

    Anytime I get a spare hour or two, I’m out the door!

  32. I do not completely dislike cycling in cold weather nor do I love it, but I still do it to the extent possible. I make accomodations, i.e. I ride a flat-bar road bike rather than my regular ride. The fact remains that I still ride. I do have my limits however. Which brings me to my favorite quote on the matter: “Its impossible to know your limits without sometimes exceeding them.”

  33. Looking out my window at work at the mist and rain covering the hills across the harbour and just imagining how awesome it’s going to be to ride up through the clouds and rain when I get home.

    I think this blog has contributed to more ride than my own inherent motivation ever has.

    cheers.

  34. @Gareth

    I think this blog has contributed to more ride than my own inherent motivation ever has.
    cheers.

    Yep. It’ll do that. But if you hang around too much, you’ll find your output at work drop 50%.
    Welcome!!

  35. My least favorite part of winter & bad weather riding is having to pull on all the gear. Booties might be the biggest pain in the arse.

    It hasn’t really gotten cold for me yet, but I can feel winter cycling settling in. While the weather can be challenging, what I have been reminded about winter cycling is what happens each year when the temperatures drop – I slow down a bit, due to the cold and all the clothing, and I just enjoy being on the bike, not concerned every minute with my form, with getting faster, et cetera. I know that just being out there is better than sitting inside the warm(er) house. I find the peace & calm of winter cycling to be really great after a long spring/summer of pushing myself.

    And, having nice winter gear makes life pretty awesome too.

    Nice one, Frank!

  36. @Souleur


    i saw this on pez and thought of the suffering, with exclamation point as Moser freaking leads out the motorcycles!!…IF your doing THAT…your deep in the zone and really don’t mind.

    What a shot! Funny, because I just found another incredible shot from CorVos/Pez today as well:

    @scaler911

    Nice article Frank. Allow me to paraphrase: “HTFU Fucktards”

    A picture says a 1,000 words, so technically your two-word paraphrase is a 1002 word paraphrase. I win.

    P.S. Fucking love that shot. That’s our Rule #9 Caption, if I’m not mistaken.

  37. Oh, and I also have a new winter bike all set up. Good, wide tires, full fenders, a relaxed position, modest enough that I don’t care about putting it through junky weather.

    All the more reason to get on out the door!

  38. @G’phant

    I am not sure that it is misleading to say we enjoy the suffering. The post-ride reflection on a job well done is clearly pleasurable. But so too, albeit in a different way, is the knowledge at the time of riding that your body is yelling ‘Whoa Bessy’ and that you are responding by pushing all the harder. That sense of overcoming your body’s (in my case extensive) limitations, of not minding that it hurts, is one of the things I like most about cycling.

    Great post – and I don’t disagree with that at all. I (usually) enjoy pushing and suffering and seeing how far I can go. But I would argue that the “enjoyment” is an indirect one; you’re not enjoying the physical sensation of pain, you’re enjoying what that pain is bringing you, whether its overcoming your limitations (which is what I love about it, makes me a better person) or the simple fact that you have, for once, some recourse for your body always calling you Bessy, as appears to be the case for you. (My body only calls me masculine things.)

    The point is that we can’t stop it hurting, it’s just a matter of finding some way of fooling ourselves into doing it anyway.

  39. @Steampunk

    Great post, Frank, and something I have been ruminating on (cogitating, indeed) lately: that the romance of “our agony””our badge of honor””our sin” is something that rarely happens in the moment. The state of mind in the moment is markedly different””and terrifically encapsulated in not minding that it hurts.
    Of course, sports science can reduce a cyclist’s abilities to a series of tests surround power, weight, etc. Leaving us fans with the desire/hope that will counts for something bigger…

    Science sucks when we can make up perfectly reasonable-sounding explanations without doing all that extra work.

    I’ll tell you another reason Science sucks. You have to reproduce your evidence. Prior to doing my big ride Saturday, I postulated to Jim that Zoo hill (the monster we do the ITT up) would be even harder when riding it 160km into the ride. After (barely) completing the climb in one piece, I texted him that the hypothesis was confirmed. He replied back that I had to replicate the data before I have a publishable result. Fuck that. I had all the duplication I needed: the data in each leg spoke for itself.

    By the way, disappointed that the distance was only 190km, but the elevation wasn’t bad – and the worst climbs came in towards the end. Not to mention that the inversion made it coldest the lower I was, which was almost always at sea level.

    @ChrisO
    I’ve turned over a new leaf. Decided that it is an abomination that I allow my limited time to be an excuse for poor grammar and spelling; after all, its a disgrace that a guy running a site all about authenticity and respect for the finest details in our sport would ignore something like spelling and grammar. I consider it a small victory that so far, no one has seen fit to point out any errors. Thanks for prodding me on.

  40. @Buck Rogers

    Food never tastes as sweet after having gone without for a few days, being warm is never as satisfying if you have not experienced real cold and the memory of pain is never as sweet as when reflecting on what you have endured while you’re sitting with your legs are up, warm and twitching, after another brutal Rule #9 ride with a heavy dose of Rule V thrown in.

    Absolutely – something worked hard for is so much sweater. I bet whatever dinner you had after the Cogal yesterday was the best food you’ve had in ages.

  41. @Souleur

    This mental acceptance of suffering is indeed a graceful virtue that we as cyclists don each and every ride out.

    Acceptance of this good virtue does separate us from the 99% of others out there in our neighborhoods and communities.

    This is so totally true. Its funny the way one might roll through their motivations…one day I’ll be excited about trying out some new bit of kit, or a just the fun of getting into the rain, or to push and see what happens. Other days I don’t have any particular desire for any of it, but I’ll find motivation in the fact that by going out, I’m separating myself from all the people that don’t understand what it means to work for something and think I’m an idiot for being out.

    I share your concern with the obesity issue; its really scary. It creates so many problems. In fact, several revisions ago had a passage referencing a bit from last weeks Sunday Times where people are becoming so willing to blame genetics or claim that they simply don’t have “reserves” of willpower. Some scary stuff – some “scientists” are claiming that once we use up our glycogen stores, we’re at our “animal’s” mercy and we’re powerless to control our eating, shopping, and – wait for it – straying! Unbelievable bullshit. Harden the fuck up, world, and show some fucking discipline.

    OK – found the original paragraph, I’ll paste it here because while it got cut from the article, it is still interesting (I’ve had to learn to cut things from my writing regardless of how in love I am with what I was saying…)

    Our current culture trends heavily towards the belief that willpower is limited to genetics, that once our reserves run dry, we are at the mercy of our animal. But those who believe that the will is self-renewing, that strength drives us to become stronger, those are the ones who have the capacity to become great Cyclists.

  42. @SurLaPlaque

    However, on that day I realy learned something. I cannot say what but I feel like a better cyclist and now see that the road ahead has a lot more to teach me.

    I can say what it is: you are becoming at One with The V!

    @jank

    There are few acts of defiance so satisfying as making the quads burn fiercely even as the entire world turns to ice and darkness.

    Welcome, and well said!

    @Aristeia

    I tell my friends and family about the grueling rides, the painful climbs, the almost constant throb and ache in my legs, and they raise their eyebrows and question my sanity.

    Thats the first sign. You’re one of us, now. No turning back, mate.

  43. @ Fronk:

    something worked hard for is so much sweater

    Sweatier? Sweeter?

    Chuckles.

    And you’re right, science cah go f.ck a duck. If we beleived science, we’d (I’d) all be alcoholics diabetics, would spend 22 hours a day washing our hands, and Cav would be a shit sprinter. The genetics argument is tiresome and encourages people not to try. Sure, you might not get to the super cyclist status of a pro, but you’ll get something better than what you have now, and you’ll never learn anything new.

  44. @frank
    “Decided that it is an abomination that I allow my limited time to be an excuse for poor grammar and spelling; after all, its a disgrace that a guy running a site all about authenticity and respect for the finest details in our sport would ignore something like spelling and grammar. I consider it a small victory that so far, no one has seen fit to point out any errors.”
    Ahem: it’s a disgrace.

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