The Cycling Aesthete

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• @Pistolfromwarragul
  They certainly would have if their sponsors had made bikes with them. They were professionals, and professionals ride what they're told to ride. When ONCE started riding TCRs with sloping top-tubes there was an outcry from the old guard who hated the look, but Jalabert, Zulle and the rest of the team rode them and rode them as hard as if they had level top-tubes.

  I'm with you on the bandanas though...

• @frank

  @Omar
  That's interesting, that they had labor jobs. That's a good point, although by this time, I think there might have been enough money for these Legends to live solely off cycling.

  That leads into a really interesting (and difficult) question I find myself facing; which is, how do these birdlike riders survive a Grand Tour? Some body fat is a helpful thing in a long race in terms of fuel (at least that's conventional "wisdom") because your body can burn it for energy, but these guys are eating like birds during these crazy races.

  It challenges one when thinking about what that means in terms of where they are getting their power and energy from.

  But enough of that heady shit; these were fucking men, eh? That picture of Coppi in the trench coat is one of my favorite photos of a cyclist ever, and he's not even on a bike. What a stud.

  To resurrect an old post (man I love the random articles!) I truly love that photo of Coppi. Had Coppi's career not span WWII and he not die early of malaria, what could have been. These dudes were sportsman and general tough guys. Although  what makes Coppi amazing was his rivalry with Bartali. And this is when Fiorenzo Magni road too! Was there ever an era of Italian awesomeness? Makes me think of Fignon, LeMan, and the Badger - they all raced at the same time too. Fuckity!

• Souleur, remember when....Musings, Training, and Stiff-as-hell-Levis
  I feel that I should illustrate how cycling has evolved in the course of my lifetime. The current need to "look" the part with all of the latest clothing enhancements, lycra, gel-padding, 3-D-lighter-than-air breathable fabrics, short sox, poly-whatever uppers, head bands, wrist bands, chest bands, monitors, SPD shoes, eggbeat...ers, and don't forget special indoor oriented glare reducing bike glasses...has left me wondering about how some of us first approached and survived the fine art of bicycling.
  Picture yourself in what would be known today as a young aspiring 14 year old nerd in last week's stiff as hell Levis. Oh yea, no gel padding here unless it was a leftover remnant of rustic bandage stuck in a skin crevice from an earlier last place finish on dancing with asphalt. That asphalt trophy finally erupts with a sort of scientific goo known only to the secret world of the medical trade; for which your mom promptly drags you by the ears kicking and screaming all the way. So now you're confronted with prepubescent embarrassment since the goo-from-hell has migrated to the inside of your steadfast Levis. This was no place show weakness in this state of prescribed manhood. No worries, no hair yet to be pulled out. Say hello to the square- jawed nurse in the stark white uniform, white cap and crooked white stockings.
  As for your "ride" - your trusty steed was a svelte hand me down 45 pound Schwinn Cruiser complete with "chopper style" cut back fenders, taped on battery flashlight, maybe a couple of playing cards pinned to the "skinny" forks, and the coveted and impressive ultra high test steel paper boy rack on the back.
  So your 14, mashing the barely reachable partially attached rubber pedals of a heavily wheeled made in the USA hunk-o-steel behemoth with paper boy bags over your shoulders, and another evil twin-like bag over your high tensile steel rear rack. The same rack that your buddy could virtually stand on when you had bike wars with your friends. Picture roller-derby and rugby on a bike...hence the dancing with asphalt trophy forming on a member of your body that wasn't protected (from the rigid armor of your stiff-as-hell Levis surrounding your vulnerable parts now soaked in sweat and a self-inflicted abrasion not unlike a well worn crevice in an ancient Indian Grinding Rock).
  Let us get to the facts of early training. No spin class here. Just do the work.
  I digress, now for the actual training tools. Remember, your 14, and mashing some heavy Chicago steel, with maybe 200 folded newspapers spread out in four pockets of your specially designed and now very intimate paper boy vest. Your next evil twin dance partner is lazily placed over your bike rack and humbly awaiting a turn with the dancing with asphalt champion of the week. Hmmm, 45 pound bike, 200 folded newspapers, extra rubber bands just in-case you load an empty for which you gracefully glide into a highly practiced no-hands position to refold and re-band under power of your mashing little legs....all while setting up the next target - wham! A perfectly executed porch shot, all the while remembering that guy didn't tip me last month. Reload fast the next porch is on the horizon and there's no time to diddle. Did I mention that that Dad's transistor radio was somehow affixed to the handlebars alongside of the rusty flashlight? That's a whole other story.
  Remember high top canvas tennis shoes with long shoe strings? (Your chain enjoyed a steady diet of shoe-strings) Add that scenario to the loaded hunk-o-steel, two unruly bags, beat the clock, ONE SPEED, and stiff-as-hell -Levis. All done before mom got your school lunch in the brown paper bag with the Soda can wrapped in aluminum foil. Now that was thermo-mom-science. Do it again tomorrow. No problem. Training.
  Pass the chamois butter and two layers of gel padding please, I'm in training. Hey coach, turn on the fans - it's a bit warm in here.

• @Lovetoclimb

  As an amateur racer and dedicated yogi, I can speak to the benefits of combining both. I am a climber by preference so an emphasis on being lean and having more slow twitch muscle is important to me. But being 6’3″ 165 lbs makes for a challenge with some of the grimpeurs in the Cat 3/4 scene.

  But on the idea of developing requisite upper body mass, my belief is yoga will provide all you need. Muscle, balance, bone density, a practice can be tailored towards any mix of these and other metrics. During my pre competitive cycling days, my yoga practice was 2-3 hours/day/7 days/week. Everything in moderation, I find my general health is more balanced now, that I cycle-commute 12-15 miles each way to work, and find time for 30-90 minutes of yoga as many days a week as possible. Ultimately the science of yoga should not be forced, but when embraced I think a cyclist is one to benefit more than most other types of athletes.

  Thoughts from fellow practitioners?

  i have been a yogi for eight years.  after trying many styles, i ended up doing a lot of Bikram, due to the suffering invoved.  now that i have returned to serious cycling, the benefits are extremely tangible.  for me, it's my lower back that has improved the most.  it's been just great to be able to get in the drops without rotating my pelvis forward.  i never knew this feeling in my 20s when i was riding 40-60 miles a day.  my breathing is also correct now, enabling me to take a full breath without my stomach hitting my knees.  i always struggled with my position before.  now, it is as natural as could be.  a few days ago, i caught my reflection in the glass of a downtown building, and i actually looked like i knew what i was doing on a bike.  a first.

• about Bikram or "hot" yoga, i have this to further contribute:  you can work as hard in 1-1/2 hours in that hot room as in your hardest 1-1/2 hours on a bike.  the Man with the Hammer lives there, too.  dig deep enough, and you'll find him.

  i've tried many styles of yoga over the years, but only with Bikram yoga have i found this fundamental level of internal ruin.  it will take everything you've got to give, and more.  you can never "win", that's not what it's about.