“There’s a certain pornography in numbers”
—Ken Harris
My numbers don’t look like Ken Harris’s numbers. Let’s just get that out of the way right now. They don’t look like Craig Upton’s numbers, they don’t look like Mike Sherry’s numbers, they don’t even look like Andy Shen’s numbers. Not that there’s anything wrong with Mr. Shen’s numbers, but he’s sometimes self-effacing about his results, and if he’s self effacing, I ought to be downright sheepish. That being said, they’re all mine, and they’re what I’ve got to work with.
@##=#<3,r>@##=#What follows is a story about data-gathering, a chance for an amateur to experience being tested like a pro-cyclist. I underwent this test twice, once in January, and a repeat about two weeks ago in May. As of this writing, I don’t have the actual results of the May test, but I have written down my perception of how the test went because I think it will be interesting to compare these perceptions to reality once the report comes in. After conferring with the editors of this site, we’ve decided to roll this story out in parts, with this first installment covering the January test in detail. Later installments will cover my spring training season between tests, the May test and a look at how the results might have been affected by training.
1 The January Test:
Over the winter, with one season of Cat 5 behind me, a freshly upgraded Cat 4 ticket and dreams of bigger and faster results filling my head, I read an advertisement on this website about an opportunity to have one’s fitness evaluated by a representative from a top Pro Tour Team. The team doctor for Saunier Duval-Prodir, Dr. Inigo San Millan, was going to be in NYC for a few days and was interested in testing local cyclists. Sounded good to me. I’m a ‘hard numbers’ guy by nature, and this was a way to get some very concrete information about my strengths and weaknesses on the bike.
The test included spirometry, body fat testing, free radical analysis and blood lactate testing.
The spirometry was interesting, I’d never done anything like this before. The doctor was checking for exercise-induced asthma and general lung function. Imagine taking in a really deep breath and exhaling as fast and as hard as you can into an empty paper towel roll. Repeat 4-5 times. It’s an odd sensation, to be sure, but it returns some interesting results. The empty tube you exhale into is connected to some sensitive instrumentation that measures your lung function and returns a projected ‘Lung Age’. Based on my results, I have a lung age of 22 years old. Cool. Very Cool. Because the age on my racing license is 38 years, and 16 of those years were spent with a pack of Marlboros in my pocket. The human body is an amazing thing, give it just a little proper care and maintenance and it will heal itself, forgiving the most grievous abuses. This test is repeated immediately following the lactate threshold testing and, if I remember what Dr. San Millan said, significant difference in lung function after maximal exercise is an indicator of exercise-induced asthma. In my case, all clear. Despite the fact that I was a heaving, panting, drooling mess, I was able to exceed my resting score, which surprised both of us.
Next up, the weigh-in and body fat test. Oh, how I dread this. All fat people do. OK, so I’m not fat anymore. At 6’1’’ and 165 lbs, I’m solidly in the skinny-bike-racer category. But these statistics are fairly recent. I’ve dropped 100lbs from my lifetime high of 265. When I see the skin-fold calipers come out of their case, I shudder with the scars of a lifetime of indignities suffered at the hands of insensitive gym teachers (e.g. “Littlefield, you’ve got more rolls than a bakery” etc…) This time, 12%, not so bad. Could be a little leaner, but this was January 6 and I’d been making merry for a few weeks. I’ll beat it back to 10% or so over the coming months.
The equipment for doing the free-radical analysis is fairly cumbersome, so the Doctor shipped it ahead. It never cleared customs. I guess in these uncertain times, large, unfamiliar electronic devices do not pass through our ports so easily. I suppose, on balance, this is a good thing, but in this case it meant that there would be no analysis of my free-radical levels. Too bad, as this is a fairly new technology that is gaining wide acceptance in Europe but from what I gather, is not readily available in the states.
@##=#<1,L>@##=#Now, the fun part. Dr. San Millan had a bike hooked up to a Computrainer, a pretty sweet Calfee if I recall correctly. He quickly attached my pedals to the bike and had the seat properly adjusted in moments. I’m getting pretty nervous now, this guy regularly tests the top riders in the world and I am fully expecting him to be shaking his head and sighing loudly at my pathetic abilities. No way the good doctor has ever tested anyone as weak as I am, I’m thinking. So I climb aboard and start pedaling. No drama yet, just really easy stuff, 130 watts. He checks my blood pressure as I pedal. All is normal. Then he uses a small pen-like device to prick my earlobe. He takes the first blood sample to get a baseline level of blood lactate. The drop of blood goes in a small vial of solution that is inserted into a machine to measure the amount of lactate in my blood. I’m watching him out of the corner of my eye to see if there is any shock or dismay on his face as he reads the results. He looks suitably bored. Good.
Now he ups the wattage a bit, 170w, all is well but I’m still feeling a little anxious about things. Same routine, pedal for a few minutes, blood pressure and blood from the earlobe. Thankfully he doesn’t have to stick me over and over, he just squeezes my ear enough to get a drop of blood and does his mad-scientist routine. We chat casually during this part of the test. What is immediately evident is that Dr. San Millan is a ‘regular guy’, very relaxed, not at all impressed with his place in the cycling world. He readily shares some news from the big leagues, interesting stories, etc. He is superb at making you feel comfortable and relaxed. This is fun, I think to myself. Famous last words….
@##=#<4,r>@##=#210 watts now, this feels a bit ‘sportier’. Starting to sweat a bit, and while I’m not panting yet, my breathing deepens noticeably. The first two levels were short intervals, 4 minutes each, now they get longer, 8 minutes per. Dr. San Millan wants my cadence controlled in a very narrow range, 75-80 rpm. This feels a bit low to me, my normal cadence is 10-15 rpms higher. Same routine here, he waits until I’m near the end of the interval, takes blood pressure and a blood sample from my earlobe. 1-2 minutes easy spinning between levels and we’re off again.
245 watts, on a trainer, in a hotel room, no fan. I’m sweating now. It’s running down my face. I’m breathing hard but not yet panting. Usually when one sees hotel room, sweating hard and heavy breathing in the same paragraph, there’s some sort of illicit fun being had (Note: these shots were taken at Patrick’s second test, not in a hotel room). Not here. Maybe this is just a warm-up for some, but I’m certainly feeling the effort now. My focus is narrowing to the task at hand. The sweat starts to drip from the tip of my nose. For the first time I’m wondering how much longer in this interval. This is not the last time this thought will occur to me during this test. Here’s the blood pressure cuff and he’s squeezing my now-sore earlobe again. OK. Rest. Spin. Try to look like that wasn’t as hard as I actually thought it was. Here we go again.
280 watts. OK, this is hard. I’m feeling this immediately and my HR is going up rapidly. Oh, and did I mention sweat? Yep, it’s like someone left the faucet running. My mind is wandering looking for an escape hatch. My arms are sweating, I’m reminded of Tim Krabbe’s “The Rider” where he admires the beauty of his tanned wrists shining with sweat while suffering up some unnamed climb. My wrists aren’t beautiful, they’re January-pale and sweaty. My legs don’t feel beautiful either. They feel like un-cooperative cinderblocks. My breathing is now fast and somewhat labored, we’ve crossed over ventilatory threshold. Pedal. How much longer? Dr. San Millan seems to read my mind, or maybe it’s my grimace. “Almost halfway through,” he states flatly. What? Maybe I heard him wrong. No? He must be mistaken. Oh boy. Pedal. My cadence picks up as my body runs for cover. The good doctor gently chides me to keep my cadence in the prescribed range. I’m praying for him to reach for his blood pressure cuff, the sign that the end is near. Finally he does and I concentrate to hold the effort steady while he takes the readings. Rest. Sweet relief.
I’ve always thought that ‘threshold’ is a level that can be sustained for an hour, more or less, and that last effort wasn’t sustainable for me. Maybe I could’ve squeezed out another 5 minutes or so, but it would have been ugly. Whatever these readings reveal, its clear from where I’m sitting that I’m over threshold at this point. This is evident to Dr. San Millan as well. He asks me if I’d like to stop. Yes I’d like to stop, but that would be the easy way out and I’m here for the full experience. With some hesitation I ask what the next level would be…
@##=#<2,L>@##=#315 watts. Sort of like the last lap at Floyd. But on a trainer, in a hotel room, no fan. I’m not ashamed to say to you all that I am hurting now. I’m two minutes into this and looking for a way out. I want to get out of the saddle but that’s not allowed. I wonder if I could shift would it really make any difference. Smilie once told me something about ankling and rotating my pelvis forward to open up something or other to help increase power output. I try it, it lasts about 3 seconds. Oh God this is hard. I’m surprised at myself and not in a good way. I’ve done lots of intervals at much higher wattage than this, but not with my legs already loaded up, I guess. I’m not going to make it through this one. I had the presence of mind to tell the doctor I didn’t think I was going to make it through. He must be used to this because he jumped in immediately took the readings just before I failed. 3 minutes in and my legs fail, my cadence drops slightly so the Computrainer clamps down the resistance to keep the power output steady at 315, which makes my cadence drop more, which increases the resistance again, and you see where this is going. Test over.
After a quick shower, I sat down with Dr. San Millan to review the results. Contrary to my expectations, he did not recommend that I take up chess. He was actually fairly complimentary about my results, and very encouraging about my prospects for the coming season. He said he thought the results were excellent given that I’d just started racing last summer. He went over the main points and gave me a very interesting lesson in the different types of muscle fibers and the roles they play in the lactate shuttle process. He then recommended specific training to strengthen my weak areas. This post-test discussion was fascinating to me and I could have sat there for hours asking questions and absorbing his knowledge. Unfortunately, the next testing candidate was waiting in the lobby and my time was up.
For those who care, the January numbers were as follows:
Weight 77.1 Kg/ 169.6lbs
% Bodyfat 12%
Ideal Weight 74-75Kg/ 162.8-165lbs

*These HR’s are abnormally high for me, about 10-15 bpm high on average. I attribute this to being very anxious before the test, which has that effect on me. I don’t think it had any real effect on my performance, but it was interesting to see 192 on a trainer. My highest ever observed HR was on the last lap of a race last year, 195 bpm.
There were also some qualitative evaluations given:
Maximal Absolute Power: 315w Medium-Good
Maximal Relative Power: 4.08w/Kg Good-Medium
Lactate Threshold: 180-185bpm
Cardiovascular Adaptation: Good
Metabolic Adaptation: Good-Medium
Recovery: Medium-Poor
Max Exercise Blood Pressure: 185/75 Normal
This is what the report said, but I think it should be pointed out that I didn’t complete the last interval. Working from the highest interval I completed, I get the following:
Maximal Absolute Power 285w
Maximal Relative Power 3.70w/Kg
I’m not sure how to interpret the qualitative statements that Dr. San Millan gave, i.e. Good-Medium/Medium-Good, but that Medium-Poor grade on “recovery” sure bugs me. Just another thing to work on.

II Life Between Tests – The Double Winter
January’s test coincided with the commencement of a new coaching relationship. After 18 months of being a diligent CTS client, I switched to work with well-known cycling coach Rick Crawford. Rick has very strong ideas about how a training program must progress, and insisted we start at the beginning. January and February were spent doing intensive base training, volumes of work I had never even considered before. I rode miles and miles and miles, in the cold, in the dark, even, on occasion, in the snow.
During the first week of “Base”, my Powertap packed it in, and due to supplier issues, it took Saris eight weeks to repair it. So I did all my base training with nothing but my trusty old Polar HRM. No watts, no odometer, no speedometer. Just ride and stay below my HR limit. This was probably a blessing, as I had nothing to tempt me over my limits, no perceptions about how fast I “should” be going, or how much power I “should” be making. Base training lasted for two months, in the standard 3 week on / 1 week off format with progressively greater and greater hours. The carrot on the end of this stick was the huge aerobic engine I’d be enjoying in the coming season. By the end of the base training period, the time demands were so great that I had to take a few days off work to complete all the hours.
@##=#<6,R>@##=#As exhausting as this was physically, it was incredibly hard on the, er, ‘taint’ if you will. No amount of taint maintenance can prevent the havoc wreaked by doubling one’s saddle time, with nearly zero time off the bike. Rest days? No such thing. In the last three weeks of base I was on the bike 7 days a week, stealing every spare moment of rest anywhere I could to try to recover. After two months of this, and a third month of the ‘transition’ phase with higher limits, more specific workouts, and a return to normal volumes, I was ready to start working on building power at LT.
On April 5th, (exactly one week before my wife gave birth to our second baby) so happy was I to finally open the throttle a bit, that I went straight out and crashed. Hard. Ambulance and everything. I broke my collarbone, tore the ulnar collateral ligament in my hand, tore some cartilage in my ribcage and hit my head hard enough to crack my helmet and give myself a concussion. I spent the night in the hospital and the next few weeks on the couch reveling in self-pity and Percocet. The prognosis was bleak, 12 weeks off the bike. I was soon panicking that all this hard work I’d done would go to waste. As my legs grew hairier I felt this was an outward sign of the conditioning draining from my body. I bargained for some way to maintain some fitness and my doctor agreed to limited use of a stationary bike. Great. 12 more weeks of riding indoors. It’s like two winters in a row.
I slowly worked my way back onto the bike, first just riding a spinning bike in a sling and figure-8 brace, and then setting up the stationary trainer when the pain subsided enough to let me ride in my normal position. Heavy breathing hurt like hell at first, but soon I was ready to start LT intervals again. I worked through a modified schedule of LT workouts, all on the trainer, with rest days every other day. I was much more exhausted than I would normally be from these workouts, an indicator of the huge amounts of energy the body uses to heal itself. Overall, my weekly bike time roughly halved, from 15 hours over 6 days to 8 hours over 4 days. These were almost exclusively work-days on the bike, with 20-40 minutes of LT work done during 2-hour trainer sessions. My coach wanted me to get on the bike and spin for 30 minutes to an hour on the other days, but these recover rides rarely happened. A new baby, various doctor visits (me, the wife, the new baby), and the allure of the couch often overwhelmed the microscopic urge to suit-up and get back on the trainer.
Doing LT work on a fluid trainer day after day is not fun, but it does eliminate a lot of variables and allows one to focus on HR, breathing and power. Given this controlled environment, I was able to experiment with intervals of different lengths and intensities and try to sense what level of effort was sustainable for me at this point. I could do 240w for an indefinite period, 250w felt hard but do-able, 260 was iffy and 270 was over the line if I was being honest with myself. So when my coach Rick asked me what I was thinking heading into the May test with Dr. San Millan, I told him I thought LT would come out somewhere between 250 and 260. “We’ll see,” he said. He felt that most athletes over-estimate their power at LT by at least 20w. Had I been enjoying the sharpening of form that comes with spring racing, I am confident the number would be even higher than my estimate. But even without racing, I think I’ve got a decent handle on how things will turn out.
III The May Test
Dr. San Millan came back to the States in late May, just prior to Wachovia Week, and the run-up to the US Pro Race in Philly. These tests were held over Memorial Day Weekend.
The test format was more or less the same, free radical testing, body fat analysis and blood lactate testing. No spirometry this time, the doctor said the results don’t really change much and the equipment is cumbersome to transport.
Free Radical Testing
Just a finger-stick and a droplet of blood, no immediate results. The doctor brought vials of blood preservative so he could take the blood samples for the free radical test and perform the test when he returned to Spain. I guess the premise is that metabolizing fuel and oxygen to create energy produces cell-damaging by-products known as free radicals, and as cyclists we produce more than our fair share. I expect that this test will turn out OK, as I take a good amount of anti-oxidant supplements (Vit C and E, green tea extract, etc.) and I eat a reasonably good diet with ample fruits and vegetables (Hi Mom.)
As previously mentioned, the body fat test is always a thrill for me. I don’t have the results yet, but given my convalescence and reduced riding time (which equates to increased snacking time), I’ll be psyched if this number stays the same at 12%. I was down to 161 lbs before the crash, but was back up to 165 on the day of the test, and there’s no reason to assume that I gained any lean body mass during this time. In fact, given that I wasn’t supposed to lift ANYTHING, I’m sure my upper body muscles atrophied somewhat. So my prediction is 13% body fat.
The blood lactate test followed the same pattern as before, except that we were able to use our own bicycles, so I was riding the Powertap for this test. My ‘tap was reading about 15 watts higher than the wattage Dr. San Millan was dialing into the Computrainer. Given that the Computrainer is a bit finicky about calibration and I know it wasn’t calibrated before we started the test, I was relying on the Powertap to determine wattage. Craig Upton was tested immediately after me, and he also had a Powertap on his bike, so I asked him to see if he also noticed any sort of discrepancy between readings. Craig said that he saw the Computrainer reading about 15 watts low on average, which is consistent with my own observations. I have no way of knowing if there was any error in the January test, so I will accept those numbers as accurate, but I am adjusting the readings for the May test to agree with the Powertap.
The first intervals were easy, 145w and 185w, same as before, blood from the earlobe and blood pressure, and this time the doctor added a pulse-oxygen sensor to monitor blood oxygen levels during the test. The wattage next went up to 220w, which felt solidly aerobic like a good tempo workout. The sensations experienced were very similar to the last test, except that I was much more relaxed, knowing what the testing entailed and also being in a familiar place. For a variety of reasons this test wound up taking place in my apartment in NYC. One benefit of this location change is that I knew where to find the fan. It was slightly less steamy having a large fan next to me during the test.
Next, I was at 260w and feeling suitably taxed. This felt like the LT workouts I’ve been doing on my own stationary trainer for the past few weeks, in other words, not a lot of fun. It’s my prediction that this will be at or just slightly above threshold for me. After the January test, Dr San Millan gave me HR training zones to work with. I more or less discarded these as the January heart rates I saw were, as previously mentioned, 10-15 bpm higher than normal. For example, January’s LT training heart rate was indicated at 180-185, levels I only see when I’m fully on the rivet. I think that the LT training HR zone will come down about 10 bpm from the January test to about 170-175bpm.
@##=#<7,L>@##=#300w next and its all about the huffing and puffing and Andy Shen’s damned flash going off in my face. He’s standing there next to Ben Hughes from Skyline Cycling talking about the weather while I’m trying to maintain some composure. Can’t let these two guys see how hard this is for me, can I? In retrospect I don’t think I masked it very well. I make it through this one, but I’m feeling blown at this point. 8 minutes is a long time at this level, for me anyway. I started making deals with my legs around the fourth minute. If you’ve ever suffered on a trainer you know what I’m talking about: “C’mon fellas, we can do this, let’s just get to 6 minutes, that’ll be 3/4 of the way thru, it’ll be easier from there” This is going the way of the January test from here on. Before the 330w interval starts I’m predicting failure. Prediction accurate, and a few minutes in and I’m losing it. Game over somewhere around 4 minutes-ish at 330w.
Andy Shen made an excellent point, that by telling myself it’s OK to quit, I almost assured myself of not finishing the interval, that I might have made it through if I thought finishing was “required” to complete the test. I think there’s a lot of truth in that; it’s all about desire and the willingness to suffer. However, the blood lactate reading for this last piece will be off the charts, and the only thing finishing would have revealed was perhaps a more-off-the-charts number.
As I write this, I still do not have the results of the May test in hand, but I’m told they’ll be here in the next day or two, before Dr. San Millan leaves to go shepherd his flock through some stage-race in France. As far as predictions go, I think the LT results will remain roughly the same as the January results. Maybe we’ll see some slight gains in LT power output, given that I did a fair amount of threshold intervals on the trainer while recovering from the crash, but the crash was a setback in my training and Dr. San Millan and my coach Rick both said it would be tough to make real gains during this period. If there are any improvements to be found, I expect they’ll reflect gains I made in aerobic output by doing such an intense base period. One thing I notice is that my HR seems to be lower this season for base-level efforts. Up to about 200w, I’m seeing a noticeable decrease in HR over last year. So perhaps there will be improvements in this range.
All of this means bupkus, of course, if you can’t race faster. I feel ready to get back in and pin on numbers again, but the powers-that-be (Coach, Orthopedist, Wife) think this may be a bit premature. I really wanted to do FBF two weeks back, but I respected my wife’s wishes; she’s been to Floyd and knows what a crash-fest it can be. When I heard that Adam Berninger crashed and broke his collarbone in the Cat 4 race, I got the chills. (Get well soon, Adam). I did sneak into the win-and-out at Riverhead last Friday night, which felt pretty good, I was on the front on the last lap heading up hill, but I got bumped pretty hard, nearly ate pavement and sat up, letting the bunch go and riding the money laps by myself safely behind the field. The ITT is coming up soon, I’m looking forward to that, and my aim is to better my time from last August by at least a minute (31:51, full cannibal). I’ll let you know how it goes.

IV Survey Says?!?!
In grade school, on Report Card Day, if things didn’t quite go my way, I wasn’t in any hurry to get home and flaunt my mediocrity. Some habits die hard I suppose, which is why this installment is a little behind schedule. That, and there’s just no way I wanted to compete with the Tour de Schmalz.
Weight and Body Fat.
Good news here, which immediately sets off my bullsh/% detector. I know that I’ve lost weight since January, and accordingly the scale reads 75 Kg, down from 77.1 Kg. (Love the scale in Kg’s, makes me feel so Euro-pro. That’s about the only thing in this report that looks Euro-pro.) However, the bodyfat result comes in at 10.8%, DOWN from 12%. This part is curious, as I’ve had a long convalescence and no lifting of any sort (other than lifting the potato chips to my mouth) since early April. It looks too good to be true, but I’ve got no choice other than to trust the doctor’s results. The only reasonable way to arrive at this result is if I was actually running leaner than 10.8% before the accident, which could be possible. What the heck, I’ll accept it as gospel. 10.8% body fat vs. 13% predicted by the author. Happy to be wrong here.
Free Radical Test
177 Ucarrs!!!! Huh?
That’s what the report said. I’ve got no other information about this other than that this is within the “normal limits” of 70-220 UCarrs. Whatever. I thought this would be a non-factor and that seems to be how it turned out. I trust that if I keep taking my vitamins and keep eating my vegetables I won’t have a problem in this area. One less thing to worry about.
Blood Lactate Testing
This is the part you want to see, so I’ll just get right to the point. Did I get any stronger? Well, yes and no. Mostly no. There’s clear improvement in the level of blood lactate that showed up at the lower intensity levels, but from threshold on up, it seems I was actually accumulating blood lactate at a faster rate than I did during the first test. This jibes with what one might expect given the training that I completed pre-crash. I spent the winter doing very intensive base training and the month before the crash was spent doing a lot of Tempo work and single leg exercises. So the improvements seen in the test equate to these zones, up to 220 watts for me. I didn’t get any opportunity to work on building endurance at higher levels until after I was recovering from the crash, and then my training was limited to 8-ish hours per week, with no racing to sharpen things up. Doctor San Millan indicated lactate threshold for me at 180bpm, which equates to 260 watts, pretty much where I predicted it would show. This is confirmed by the Powertap file for the most recent Central Park TT (264w). One small differentiating factor between tests, the wattage levels for the second test were slightly higher than the first test (or so I’m claiming) as indicated by my Powertap. So perhaps the extra 15 or so watts made a significant difference, but more likely, I suffered a greater fitness loss than I had anticipated by being confined to the trainer for 10 weeks.
Here’s the chart:

The qualitative evaluations were identical to the previous test, with a slight change in Power-to-Weight due to the 2 Kg I dropped between tests.
The pudding has been eaten, so the proof is apparent. The ITT last weekend in Central Park saw this rider return a time 30 seconds slower than my 31:51 from last August. Less than 2% difference, and truthfully my heart wasn’t in it.

Forget the time, check out that stylin’ skinsuit!
I think I had the legs to go faster, but not considerably so. I don’t think 31 minutes was in jeopardy given my current fitness level. I pinned on numbers for the first time the weekend prior in the Masters field in Prospect. I’d never raced with the Masters before, but since the Lou Maltese Memorial Cat 4 race in Central Park was full, and I’m old enough to race with the Masters, I thought I’d give it a try. I got shelled. I knew I was in trouble from the first lap, and even with sag-climbing the hill so that I’d start near the front and drift over the top in contact with the field, I got popped on the 7th lap of 10. (Sidenote: Fortune smiled on me, the Lou Maltese seems to have been a crash-fest, not the place for someone with a mending collarbone. Meanwhile, my race was quite smooth and orderly, with no crashes and no boneheading that I saw. Masters racing is a good thing.) I think this relates directly to the “Medium-Poor” grade I got for recovery. Where most racers exert themselves to get over the hill with the group, their heart rates return to some normal, sustainable level on the easier part of the course. I stayed closer to redline and wasn’t able to recover as effectively. All of this adds up and right around the 50 minute mark, my system was just overloaded. Game over.
@##=#<10,r>@##=#All in all, this was an interesting project, humbling to be sure, but interesting nonetheless. Of course, I would have loved to regale the four or so readers I’ve got with stories of prodigious power gains and race results to drive home the point. Instead, I’ve got a fairly rocky path to mediocrity, and the cognitive dissonance that goes along with a lot of sacrifice and hard work for no results. So we shall regroup, and look for the way forward. I love to ride my bike but lately it’s seemed like a real chore. Too many statistics, too much analysis takes the fun out of anything. Time to look up from the display and enjoy the view, I think.
Be well.
Ride safe.
PL