schmalz’s log 2010 part 18

This just in—pants fire in NJ

Bike racers lie. I’m not talking about the lies that disgraced pro racers tell when they’ve been caught with bovine amounts of swine testosterone swishing around in their pee—in this instance, I’m talking about the lies that normal everyday racers tell. 

Deception, of course, is an integral part of most sports: football players pump fake, basketball players use head fakes and hockey players will tell someone their shoe’s untied before they punch them in the throat. Cycling, though, is a very special case because it’s the only sport (besides the TV show Survivor) where competitors can conspire together for a result. On the road, riders from opposing teams can set aside their differences momentarily in order to work for the chance at winning the race. 

This is unprecedented in the world of sports, you would never see a linebacker and a running back take turns carrying each other downfield to the goal line before they duked it out for a touchdown; basketball players don’t help their opposition dribble up the court and hockey players almost never help the other team beat the crap out of their teammates. Cycling’s special in-race alliances and the inevitable feelings of betrayal they produce make racers very wary of one another—and that’s why bike racers lie.

Bike racers lie about almost everything there is to do with bike racing. There is nothing less accurate than a racer’s statement about how much they’ve been riding—a missive from Gary Busey about the origins of the universe written on an Arby’s napkin is more factual. If a racer has been piling up training miles like a meth addicted squirrel stashing nuts for the winter; they will reply, "Not much" when asked how much they have been riding. If they are out of shape, they will inflate their mileage total and then try to compensate in races by hopping to the front as the pack hits the hill before dropping backwards like a raisin through a raven on the climb. If they are feeling good, when someone asks their weekly mileage, they will cut the number in half. If they are riding terribly, they will double their weekly mileage numbers, as they can then claim to be "tired". 

Racers also lie about the athletically critical numbers that serve to create their identity as competitors. VO2 max, threshold heart rate, body fat percentage, AWEW (accumulated weekly excrement weight to you rookies) are all numbers that are either carefully guarded or purposefully skewed to either scare the competition or lull them into a false sense of security. 

But racers don’t only lie about the aspects of cycling that will give them an advantage over their competition, they will also deliberately cloud the air when it comes to disclosing the costs of the sport to friends and loved ones. If a racer is looking to impress, their bike will "cost more than their car". If they are looking to obfuscate the costs of a new piece of equipment, they can claim they "got it at cost" or "our sponsor paid for it" or "I was able to work out a deal when I traded unspeakable acts for bits of molded carbon fiber".

These are all very handy and useful lies of course, but none are more crucial than the lies we tell ourselves. Every good racer has a full deck of these playing cards of self-deception to use to trump any potentially loss of self-esteem. Racers can claim: it was a sprinter’s course; everyone was sitting in; no one would pull through; the course was too flat; the course wasn’t selective enough; the course had no hills; the course had no time portals; there was no wind; I had to race against faster people; everyone ganged up on me; I was only 20 places back in the sprint; I saw the break go, but didn’t think they’d stay away; I was behind Jed Kornbluh; no one knew how to race; or finally, I was playing hockey and was too exhausted from punching my teammate in the neck to proper recover from the attacks in the race. These are all wonderful lies that we tell ourselves, of course, and they serve their purpose in the world of bike racing very well—they allow us to continue participating in a sport where we may only win a handful of races over the course of our "careers". And in the spirit of bike racer fabrication, I offer you the following training diary entries.

Friday February 12, 2010

Not a lot went on during today’s ride. I mounted the rollers and did the cycling equivalent of treading water for 75 minutes.

 

Weight

155

xPower (watts):

206

Workout time:

1:17:06

Average Speed (mph):

23.4

Time riding:

1:14:39

Average Power watts):

207

Distance (miles):

29.1

Average Heart rate (bpm):

132

Work (kJ):

931

Average Cadence (rpm):

92

 

Sunday February 14, 2010

This was another day of treading bike water, I woke up early and expected to ride 90 minutes, but only ended up riding for an hour. Lately, my roller training sessions have ended like a drunken college hook-up, with the promise to return and perhaps have a better return engagement—followed by a partially clothed walk of shame. Call me crazy, but I’m not sure it’s good for the training psyche when every workout ends with sorrow and a promise to do better next time.

 

Weight

155

xPower (watts):

189

Workout time:

1:03:04

Average Speed (mph):

21.5

Time riding:

59:41

Average Power watts):

190

Distance (miles):

21.3

Average Heart rate (bpm):

127

Work (kJ):

684

Average Cadence (rpm):

89

 

Monday February 15, 2010

An alarm clock can have transformative qualities, its electronic chirping signals the transition from sleep to consciousness, from the dream world to the harsh morning light of reality, and it can be a clarion’s call to get up and move in the direction of your aspirations. Today my alarm clock was none of those things, I ignored it’s call. I tried to muster the gumption to get up and ride the rollers early, but I mostly just roused apathy—as I was dreaming about starting a hand bell choir and my bed felt extra cozy this morning. 

As penance I decided to ride a bit more outside today, as there’s another snowstorm on the way, and the opportunity to ride outside may not present itself again until March. There’s something exhilarating about riding through the snow covered landscape on a sunny winter day. The snow reflects the sunlight to create an impossibly bright and cheery light, and today all of New Jersey seemed glowing and clean. The experience also served to buoy my sense of smug superiority towards all of my non-cycling associates huddled indoors—because if I can’t re-purpose natural beauty to feel superior to my fellow man, what’s the point?

 

Weight

155

xPower (watts):

207

Workout time:

1:41:20

Average Speed (mph):

16.8

Time riding:

1:38:21

Average Power watts):

191

Distance (miles):

27.6

Average Heart rate (bpm):

139

Work (kJ):

1137

Average Cadence (rpm):

89

 

Tuesday February 17, 2010

Today was a triumph of the spirit, as I was able to complete 87 continuous minutes on rollers in my basement. This is a major accomplishment for me, as I have been really hating my bike lately. I was cursing quietly to myself as I was riding today, but I still managed to prevail. 

 

Weight

154

xPower (watts):

219

Workout time:

1:36:52

Average Speed (mph):

22.9

Time riding:

1:27:29

Average Power watts):

218

Distance (miles):

33.3

Average Heart rate (bpm):

140

Work (kJ):

1157

Average Cadence (rpm):

93

Interval

 

Distance

Work

Max Power

Avg Power

Avg HR

Avg Cadence

Avg Speed

1

3:50

2.1

75

544

327

175

98

33.1

 

Thursday February 10, 2010

A family obligation yesterday kept me off my bike, and today I inexplicably saw my weight fall back to 152 pounds. I am left to credit the warm feelings of familiar closeness for my weight loss. This is antithetical to traditional bike racer behavior which dictates, of course, that any sort of family duties should be dispatched with anxiety and impatience, as talking to and enjoying the company of people is the exact opposite of forlornly riding your bicycle 50 miles away from home. I made up for these warm feelings today by firstly riding for 20 minutes in the pre-dawn in my basement, and then riding outdoors at midday—both rides were mildly revolting.

 

Weight

152

xPower (watts):

200

Workout time:

1:19:44

Average Speed (mph):

17.0

Time riding:

1:19:20

Average Power watts):

187

Distance (miles):

22.5

Average Heart rate (bpm):

134

Work (kJ):

894

Average Cadence (rpm):

88

Interval

 

Distance

Work

Max Power

Avg Power

Avg HR

Avg Cadence

Avg Speed

1

20:00

5.7

186

183

155

118

88

17.3

 

 

 

17 Comments

Baptiste Headbadge

another common lie:

“yeah, just an easy endurance ride up 9w’
-proceeds to go nearly all out on 9w-
“yeah, i guess my fitness is just really good now”

jan

that one goes both ways. as in, “stop pushing the pace, why won’t you do ‘proper’ endurance,” which means “please stop, you’re hurting me”

Silver Delorean

This reminds to send my leter of complaint to the CRCA about their lack of time portals in their races. Tehy have added Power points and West side finishes, but no f–ing time portals.

Romain Setscrew

..is understating the time spent training. I believe this is done because local bike racers are embarrassed by the lack of talent they posses. Unlike other sports where the know they have no chance, they think simply riding more, eating better, getting a coach, they will win. Although all that helps, no talent = no wins.

Of course the opposite lie is given to non bike racers. They may have ridden 10 hours that week, but will quote the 30 hour week they did this one time at bike camp. That and a flashy team kit will make cat 4s appear very pro.

Jules Cogset

So, Schmalz, by your logic, you’re riding either a couple of hours on the trainer, or less than a half of one.

Seppe Crank

How about the lies told in the race, in the break. “I’m on the rivet” = I am saving myself so that I can sprint around you at the end.

Amerigo Supple

Who lies about his power. “Yeah I was doing tempo for an hour on the trainer at 400-450watts” … meanwhile the guy never wins a cat 4 race because he is too “fried” come race season.

Comments are closed.