So many years of training, all 14 years of using my body to make bikes go fast in varying degrees of speed, time and success. At some stages I have calculated the percentage of my life I have spent on a bike, most its lots, some days it competes well with sleeping. Other days the sleeping is dismissed for more riding in the strange concept of racing that is 24 hour solo’ing.
All madness, all this time and all this worry about the right training. I do love been fit and fast on the bike and I lack not race competitiveness, but there are real worlds out there that hammer on the door when training life is turned on.
Hard things like getting enough sleep, cured by more coffee. Having enough money, resolved by working more. Having enough time to train, solved sleeping less and work less and drinking more coffee.
I have two coaches during the years and they both helped. My last one Andrew Patterson drove a disciplined precise raceme that brought great results and gave me new insight into training with power.
This year is another big raceyear and its close again in Canberra. And the balances have shifted slightly since the last times. I now have gainful employment as a self employed person, harbour a caffeine attraction (unrelated) and have no coach.
Yet it’s not all lost. I have few bikes and the will to train and ride. Knowing how my body works after many directed and undirected years has fooled me to believing I know what I am in for.
One of the biggest balance factors is the physical nature of my working life. This has added a great deal to my overall strength and stability on long rides. But it does take away my energy to train during the week and leading up to races. I am not sure that anyone would have good rule to follow here apart from don’t overdo and don’t get injured.
A real asset is my power metered road bike. This coupled with a good deal of experience with it measured accurate sessions are easier. It is also the ‘road bike’ is a grant abrogation of all things pure and neat about road bikes. From 28c tires and mud guards to a power tap and a set of aero bars the machine is focused on only been an ace training device.
So I bound on into the depths of training depravity and it’s acutely quite nice. Long slogs in the raining around the Eastbourne coast to Wainuiomata. The constant madding tirades with thick arrogant drivers. Sideways looks from slicked up roady’s on the latest fad wheels. And loads of time within my head, speaking aloud to no one interrupted sporadically by the odd Katy Perry pop track.