Those things in life that are worth having are those things which are difficult to come by; perseverance is made more rewarding by the volume of messages ignored by the mind as we work towards a goal.
Fatigue comes in many forms and is normally framed in negative connotations; weariness, exhaustion – both things to avoid. For a Cyclist, it can carry a range of meanings. We may become weary of riding in the rain, as I normally am at this time of year; stuffing my shoes with yesterday’s newspaper post-ride in the hope that the dry accounting of our current events will somehow render my shoes less soggy the next day. We may become weary as we approach the big climb of the day when we know what suffering lies around the bend. To push on during an effort despite an overwhelming exhaustion that lays bare our spirit and threatens to stop our legs from turning.
But fatigue can be a beautiful thing. The fatigue that registers as a result of the post-ride status check is the gauge by which we measure satisfaction in our work. Even during the ride, we find that fatigue may not always be the sentinel of the Man with the Hammer; even as the wave of exhaustion washes over us, we learn through practice that we can continue or even lift our effort.
My favorite fatigue is the kind that sets in during a long ride; when the body has acquiesced to the mind and the signals of discomfort and pain have stopped being sent. The legs at this point take on an almost anesthetic quality to them, they don’t hurt but they don’t feel either; they have a thickness that, while they lack the punch they have when fresh, allows us to continue to push on the pedals for hours on end.
This happened to me during my most recent long ride. It was a cold, rainy day – cold enough that snow fell at the tops of the two major climbs of the day. The last big climb came at 160km and, while there is no such thing as a flat route in the Seattle area, the roads home lacked the steep grades that characterize our urban streets. The descent from Cougar Mountain froze me to my core. Starting in the snow and ending in the pouring rain, I arrived at the first of the minor climbs on the way home and pushed the button on my left shifter to slip into the little ring. Instead of making contact, my frozen hand slipped limply along the lever and did little more than jiggle the button.
This presented an unusual problem. At this point I was tired after having a piled a load of kilometers in my legs. I was also becoming just the slightest bit annoyed at how cold I was. I swerved dangerously as I experimented with bashing different parts of my hands and arms against the disappointingly stubborn shifter to try to get it to budge. Inanimate objects and I have an uneasy history, and I soon found myself giving it the customary inputs involving profanity and questioning the pureness of its mother.
Having that unpleasant business out of the way, I resigned myself to riding home in the big ring feeling fortunate that my right hand was still capable of shifting so at least I wasn’t riding a glorified single speed. And then it hit me: it was actually quite easy to carry on this way, riding in the big ring. The legs still managed to turn over and I hardly felt a thing as I pushed harder on them whenever the road pointed up. Even a few of the hills on which I struggle to stay in the big ring during my usual training rides seemed to pass under my wheels without giving undue notice.
That sensation of power combined with the heavy fatigue I carried with me distinguishes itself as one that comes only during my longest rides on those days when my form is good enough that the effort hasn’t cracked me entirely. Wholly unlike the seduction of La Volupte, it does bear a vague similarity in its rarity. Powerful fatigue; vive la Vie Velominatus.
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Well done Frank. Yet again you've managed to convey the thoughts of most of us here.
Just re-reading Krabbe and was reminded of this when reading your piece -
"because after the finish all the suffering turns to memories of pleasure, and the greater the suffering, the greater the pleasure. That is Nature's payback to riders for the homage they pay her for suffering........Nature is an old lady with few suitors these days, and those who wish to make use of her charms she rewards passionately
@Dan_R
I'm so pale, every cogal I show up at is automatically a Great White Cogal. Hey-o!
@Steampunk
In his book Fignon talks about preparing for the 1988 MSR by completely destroying himself and emptying himself of any reserves of energy behind Alain Gallopin's derny, the idea being that if you completely deplete the body's reserves of glycerol and other sciency stuff, it will over stock over 48 hours. It would seem to have worked, he won and talked of a complete lack of pain in his legs.
I'm not convinced it'll work without a pro sized foundation of base miles so I'm not going to test it on the Keepers Tour. Maybe some other time.
@Chris
@Steampunk
I knew of a Aussie international rider that would fatigue train by going out until hunger flat then turn around and ride home. This would be a 200km+ session.
Must be some method to the madness!
@Dan_R
Ontario Cogal at the end of May. Of course, to call it Great White North would be a bit of a misnomer, since it will be more southerly than the majority of American Cogals organized so far.
@mcsqueak
I see a new V-decal name badge in your future. Something Nibali-Sharky-like.
Chances are that by the end of May, we'll be in glorious sunshine. I'll defer to @King Clydesdale's almanac skills, but I'd say we'll likely be in the high 20s.
WOAH! A blowup?! That sounds pretty crazy. Love the idea though, will have to try it sometime, maybe a few days before my wedding in June so that my body, mind, & spirit are ready for a new phase!
Interesting though.
The only time I really attempted a "blowup" was before my last cross race of the season, back in January. I did some intervals, which I've always refused to do, since I'd never raced before this year. Seems to have worked alright for me since I raced pretty darn well & felt strong in rough conditions.
Not much to say, except great post and great comments. This definitely inspired me to push a little harder this morning, despite some dead legs from a weekend of spreading 12 yards of mulch in the yard (one wheelbarrow at a time).
Frank - that makes sense about the shoes. I have finicky feet as well, so keeping everyone happy about all the kms is important.
And I'm sure it's been covered (and I likely asked it!) but what is the preferred method for setting the bar angle when you've got a compact or slightly slopping TT? With a level TT the idea was to get the drops parallel (or close to it) with the TT. Can be more of a challenge with slopin' tubes.
@The Oracle
Damn. I'm still living in a Velominati nirvana/dream world. Not married (yet), only a dog & cats, no kids, no yard, no mulch (we rent still). I have no idea what is in store for me when these things start to slowly change. I do have friends who are recently married and have just had children, so I've seen the change, but I don't think you know until it hits ya.
Good riding, Oracle! The mulch be damned!
@Ron
Life won't change much when you get married, esp if you two are already living together. The first 2-3 years of kid-dom, however, is a different story. Once home, its hard to get away in the afternoon/evenings, so I do my best to work riding into commuting.