I really don’t like the gym. At least the traditional globo gym where meatheads look at themselves in mirrors and grunt a lot. That for me is a recipe to not go. I knew I needed something different. I found it at my team mate Mark Twights creation Gym Jones. For me it was the perfect place to unfuck my head and start to feel like an athlete again. The workouts I do with Bobby Maximus have torn me down and built me up in a way I was not expecting. Every Monday and Wed morning I walked in the door with a curious mix of dread and excitement. Would this be the day I crack? Most days the answer was yes. And it was glorious. The point isn’t that you should go find a gym it is you could probably stand to mix things up too.

Being on the bike for 20+ years your body adapts and becomes very efficient and being on the bike which is good for the most part. It also though gives you a false sense of accomplishment. You know what you can do. You set up boundries that you don’t even know are there and you stay in that box. Performance stagnates, the brain accepts the lies as truth. You don’t fight for that wheel on the last lap because you’re not a sprinter, you let the gap open at the start of the climb because you are not a climber, you ride the same routes. You train your strenghts. Unfuck your head.

Slash and burn, it is the only way out. Do something different tomorow. Sprint for yellow signs, even if you are alone. Ride your usual route backwards. Take your coffee black instead of with sugar. Anything, just change something. Then tommorrow change something else. Unfuck your head.

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Cancellara pulled a Cancellara at Strade Bianche (how is this race not a bigger deal yet?) and just rode away. No tactics, just brute force. Impressive.

The question now is where are the rest? Flecha is always a strong man as shown at Omloop and Hushovd did make the break for a while before getting popped. I suspect Thor will be ready for Roubaix. Gilbert so far has been pretty quiet. Is he just waiting to show his hand? Sagan? Have not seen much of him either. Boassan Hagan was sick for Omloop, it would be nice to see him break of a big one this season. Others? What say you?

Tommeke, Tomekke, Tomekke, I admit I am a fanboy of Tom Boonen. I hope this is the year he gets his shit in a pile again and reclaims his crown at the classics. Judging by his form at Qatar I might get my wish. This season the Classics filed is deeper than any I can remember. Philippe Gilbert is a straight up gangster and has a scary posse of capos (Thor!) behind him with a thirst for blood. Peter Sagan, if he gets within sight of a finish line with the leaders it is game over though he is a bit unproven on the cobbles. Edvald Boasen Hagen will no doubt have one of the bloodiest sword around when he finally meets Odin in Valhalla. This may be the year he confirms his extraordinary potential. Actually I really like Boasen Hagen, he lets his legs do the talking and he wins with a lot of panache. If he and Boonen were in the final kilometers together I woud really be torn.

I posted on the Facebook page and Google+ about this yesterday about going old school this season. No HR monitor, power meter, GPS, etc. I have reached the point in my cycling career where I don’t need any feedback. I know when I am redlined, I know how long my usual training routes are. I don’t need the distraction. I just want to get on my bike and ride until I stop. I may backpedal a bit on the GPS as I have a few endurance MTB events on my calendar, knowing how much is left might be useful. Who knows? Never say never.

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If Race Flyers Were Honest

All those hours on your trainer watching Paris Roubaix reruns will finally pay off big time right? Lets hope. Back in the day I did my fair share of driving crazy hours to get that first taste of competition. More often than not I was greeted by the stark reality of trying to make my big base miles mesh with the tanned leg mid season fitness of the AZ, SoCal riders. Talk about bringing a knife to a gun fight. A bit of humble pie is good for the soul. I would come back with a renewed sense of urgency. The sugary snacks went away, intervals got serious, social life disappeared. Shit got real.

So to all my friends pinning on numbers in the coming weeks keep things in perspective. It is still winter, go race your ass off, stay upright and take it easy on me when you get back.

bike ♥ from Rick Darge on Vimeo.

I used to spend hours at the park near my house practicing my cyclocross dismounts and remounts, in July. The dog walkers and frisbee players looked at me like I was an escaped mental patient. Who cares, they were balanced. I was not, to a spectacular degree. I would say most of the people I race with are the same. In the pro’s it is even more so. Consider this quote from Lance Armstong:

‘Once someone asked me what pleasure I got out of riding my bike for so long. “Pleasure?” I asked. “I don’t understand the question. I didn’t do it for pleasure. I did it for pain”.’

Balanced? I don’t think so. Einstein couldn’t remember his own address, Eddie Van Halen used to practice 8 hours a day, Sean Kelly famously said his wife was 3rd in his order of loves (Bike and car being 1 and 2). These are not balanced people and thank god for that!

Stop playing fantasy footbal, sell your golf clubs, stop watching the news. Go and kick balance in the junk. Ride your bike when you should be working, ride your bike in the snow, ride your bike during the Super Bowl. Ride your bike.
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4ème Manche de CDM cyclo-cross from Petitesreines on Vimeo.

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Only through the group, I realized — through sharing the suffering of the group — could the body reach that height of existence that the individual alone could never attain. And for the body to reach that level at which the divine might be glimpsed, a dissolution of individuality was necessary. The tragic quality of the group was also necessary, the quality that constantly raised the group out of the abandon and torpor into which it was prone to lapse, leading it to an ever-mounting shared suffering and so to death, which was the ultimate suffering. The group must be open to death — which meant, of course, that it must be a community of warriors.
“Sun and Steel” Yukio Mishima

The group ride, this is where the magic happens. Back when I was a young and hungry Cat 4 I attached myself to the fastest group of guys in town. These guys were not friendly, in fact they seemed to enjoy humiliating newbies. The first time I showed up they made fun of my bike, my clothes (I didn’t have any real riding clothing) and my height (the basketball courts are down the street). In the 2 miles before I got dropped I got screamed at for not holding my line, not pointing out shit on the road, and not knowing how a pace line worked. When I got gapped off the team leader came back and told me not to come back tomorrow. Well I did come back and I did get dropped again. I kept coming back every week and every week I learned a little more. By the end of the summer I still couldn’t hang with the front group but on most rides I did hang with the second group. I know how to ride in an echelon, I knew how to be smooth in the group, I pointed shit out, I knew when to change the direction of the pace line when the wind switched. Most important I had earned their respect, I learned the sport and I earned my spot.

While it is admirable to go out and slog through the hours it takes to develop the engine, if you forsake the group ride you will never be complete. You will never earn your spot. The group is also where loyalty is learned, friendships are forged, suffering is shared. Some people never really get this part. You know the ones, bounce from team to team, always looking for “the deal”, always making excuses for why they are not winning. Some of these folks eventually figure it out, most don’t.

Other than the Eddy Merckx quote of “ride lots” the number one thing most riders can do to get better is to find a regular group ride. Show up, pay attention, give back and all the magic will be revealed.

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