Two days ago I wheezed up to
Olinda, sitting on 13.5kph, keeping a cadence of about 65. I lead off from the
bakery. Nicky can pass me whenever she likes. I set out a gear bigger and keep
a cadence around 70. In that instant I reset my goal and proceed to stick at it
all the way to the top with Nicky on my wheel.
Suddenly today I feel strong in
the legs. Is as little as a week’s regular training starting to pay? Or am I
just having a good day? It’s hard to measure these things but it gives me
confidence and motivation to stick at a resolve to be on the road at least
every second day and a cycle session at the gym every other day.
It seems to me that some cycle
class instructors have never been on any bike other than one rooted to the
floor. It’s a cardio class, I know, not cycle training, but their simulated road
commentaries miss the mark by miles. James gets it—he’s a triathlete—though few
benefit from his crack-of-dawn Wednesday session.
The stationary bike at the gym has
one great advantage over the home trainer: my honour is at stake. For those 45
minutes I push myself just a little bit more, as Johnny Green says, because there’s
no hiding in the cycle studio surrounded by mirrors and other furious spinners
and grinders. I sweat buckets; no road-wind here to evaporate the dew and cool
the core.
The more cycle classes I do,
the more I learn to simulate the things I do on the road—seated climbing, taking a
gear and upping the tempo, an extended sprint, or just rolling along. The gearing is
unsophisticated and lacks the nuance of even the crappest groupset. I park my
arse on the same BodyBike every session and try to plumb its idiosyncrasies.
Rock on.
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