Power to the Pedals

Whether we know it or not, we cyclists are all about power.

Power is the rate at which energy is used.  More simply it is the ability to do work.  Horse Power was originally a term used to compare the work-abilty of draft horses to steam engines.  One horse power is 550 foot pounds per second.  That’s the abiity to lift a 550 pound load by one foot, in one second.  Since very few of us are capable of hitting that mark, even briefly, it makes a bit more sense to use the SI power unit of Watts.  And for those of you who are of inquiring mind, the conversion is roughly 746 Watts (W) to 1 Horsepower (Hp).

When we move by bicycle there are three physical resistances to our progress.  They are Friction, Air Drag, and Gravity.  Of these Friction is negligible, but both Air Drag and gravity are tough.  The faster we go, or the higher we climb the more resistance we meet.  Power is all we have to overcome that resistance.

Where does it come from, this power?  A cyclist’s answer would be,  “From my legs!”  But it is far more complicated than that.  Power is the rate at which energy is used.  So where does the energy come from, and how is it converted to power?  That gets a bit more complicated, but we can go with the cyclists answer.  It comes from the legs.

Want to know how we bike riders stack up?  Some of the mightiest and strongest of us can generate about 1.5 horse power, for a very short time.  Our elite Pro super-sprinters can deliver close to 1 Hp for as long as 15 or 20 seconds.  Then they are done.

Look around you at the next group ride.  You know who the “power riders” are.  Most likely the strongest of them can not sustain as much power as a leaf blower makes.  A good strong rider can deliver something like 250 to 300 Watts for several hours.  That’s about enough power to light up a moderate sized room, or to blow the leaves out of one medium sized driveway.  Hmm.  No wonder we seek the most efficient and lightes bicycles we can find.

How do we develop power?  What makes it happen?  How can we get more of it?  How can we keep it going?

Those are the questions, and this week we’ll devote time and space to Power.

Friday Follies ~~ Speed?

Speed wins races.  Strategy and tactics are important, but speed does the winning.

Once I had visions of being the next great thing, of making a serious mark in the world of cycle racing.  Never mind that this was completely delusional.  I come in the large-economy size.  The best racing weight I ever achieved was 179 pounds.  That’s lean for me, but way too much weight for a cycle racer.

I’d had early good results, and I was convinced that I (yes I!) could be something.  So I bought the best and fanciest bike that could be had at the time.  I was stoked about the idea that this thing was fast!  It was Italian!  It was made from some wonderful super-lightweight steel.  In truth it was significantly lighter than the beast I had been riding.  It sure felt fast.  I just knew that my next race was going to be a triumph.

It wasn’t.

I got my posterior handed to me.

On a plate.

Time to re-group.  I tackled the thing with a two-prong approach.  I “trained,” and I went to work on the bike.

In those days “training” was simple.  We got n the bikes and rode as hard as we could, for as long as we could stand it.  A “good” training ride was one that left the rider trembling, gasping, and unable to walk.  A great one involved loss of the stomach contents.

The “bike work” was more subtle.  Sort of.  It was based on the sound principle that weight equaled loss of speed.  Mass has weight.  Material has mass.  So!  Remove material and the bike gets both lighter and faster.

On most other bikes of the time removing “material” simply mean unbolting all of the non-essential accessories.  At the time, most bikes sold in America had a plethora of non-essential crap attached.  But this was an honest to goodness European racing bike.  There wasn’t anything on it that wasn’t strictly necessary to the job.  However…  Most of the bike was made out of metal and metal was heavy.

The conventional wisdom among racers of that day was that most of the metal on a bike wasn’t really needed.  I had access to a number of machines at work.  I set about removing a lot of unnecessary metal.

I disassembled the bike and went to work on the bits and pieces.  By the time I finished with the drill press the chainrings looked like lace.  I drilled holes in the crank arms too.  Lots of holes, in varying sizes.  Judicious grinding work removed a goodly bit of matter from the pedals, and the brakes.  I cut a lot off of the seatpost.  (After all, most of it was inside the frame where it wasn’t doing me any good.)  Then I started drilling and cross-drilling the remainder of the post.  The handlebars came in for a similar treatment.  So did the stem.  I even cut away a lot of the saddle.

The idea of science never crossed my mind.  I didn’t weigh the bike before, or after.  On reflection, I probably didn’t remove all that much weight.  It is barely possible that the bike was a pound lighter.  Of course it was a very large frame, so it was still more than a pound heavier than most of my competitor’s rides.

I did accomplish one significant thing with this weight reduction program.  I removed a lot of structural material.  With predictable results.  I didn’t go any faster, but I did crash.  It could have been a lot worse.  One of the cranks failed on a rough climb.  Considered against the range of possible results, this was about the least injurious thing that could have happened.

Total result?  I spent a lot of time and effort effecting the absolute ruin of a lot of very nice parts.  I didn’t win anything.  The cast came off six weeks after.

 The "training program" didn't seem to help much either.  At least it didn't result in breaking anything.

What makes a “Fast Bike”?

The Basic Problem:

The title question can spark a lot of debate among the bench racers.  Often the answers will center around a particular component manufacturer’s top-of-the-line group, or a set of “Wonder Wheels,” or some mystical property of some frame builder’s top tier offering.  Super light weight is often a big part of these discussion.  The sages will debate the merits of “aero” frames.  Gearing choices can play a part.  Some will even delve into the minutia of tire types and inflation values.

Ultimately, all agree that lighter bikes are faster.  I can not dispute this.  All other factors being equal (and they never are) the lighter bike will be faster.  But let’s look at this for just one moment.

Generally speaking, new road bikes start out at about $700.  That’s the “entry level” bike.  Price points start going up in about $200 dollar increments.  As one moves up the price ranges it’s fairly easy to see the differences.  Features change, but the weight of the bike doesn’t change much.  The bikes in the lowest three price ranges are all in the 21 to 22 pound range.  Suddenly around the $1300 price point, the bikes get a bit lighter.

Something magical happens around the $2000 price point.  From there on up there are no significant changes in feature or function.  They all have the same number of gears, the same general kind of shifters, and the wheels and brakes seem about the same too.  But there are lots of bikes that cost more than $2000, some of them a whole lot more.  A buyer might reasonably ask,  “Just what am I getting for all this extra money?”

The answer to that last question would be,  “In truth, you aren’t getting anything.  You are paying more to get less.”

That’s right.  Above the $2000 price point the new bike buyer is paying for lighter weight, at about one thousand dollars per pound.  (Remember, we’re speaking in generalities here.)  Bascially a $2000 bike weighs in around 20 pounds, and an $8000 bike weighs about 14.5 pounds.  So the buyer is paying to lose weight, at a rate of about $1000 per pound.

A Modest Proposal:

Givens:

• Most road bike buyers are in the 30 to 50 year age range, and are therefore assumed to not be in contention for top ranks among professional cyclists.
• Most road bike buyers are carrying a bit of extra weight around with them.  Usually this is anywhere from 10 to 1000 pounds.
• The act of riding a bike, and changing one’s dietary habits to healthy ones will result in weight loss.
• Super-lightweight bikes are racing bikes, and are just not as reliable as their more modest cousins and brothers.
• Doing the regular work necessary to losing extra poundage will result in better physical condition and strength.

Conclusion:

If one is in the market for a fast bike.  One should buy something in the $700 to $2500, and ride the ever-lovin’ stew out of it, while reforming dietary habits.  The result will be a rider who loses ten to 50 pounds, without spending thousands of dollars.

Oh!  And by the way…  The process outlined above will result in a lot of happy riding, and the decreased rider weight and increased fitness most certainly will result in a faster bike!

Your First Three Years ~ Part 15:

Goals?  Next Season Starts NOW

A Guide for Beginner (and Experienced!) Cyclists, to the Art and Practice of Cycling.  Becoming Proficient, Fit, and Happy on your bike.

The Holidays are almost upon us.  This is an extremely difficult time for cyclists and other outdoors athletes.  It is also an extremely important time.

The holiday season should be one of joyous occasions, reunions, peaceful contemplation, and relaxation.  Our society complicates this.  For those who attempt athletic pursuits, this can be a deadly time of year.

We have struggled to attain some level of fitness and expertise.  The weather has closed in, and the days have grown shorter.  That’s enough of a challenge.  Now comes the distractions of the season…  Along with copious amounts of very rich food.  All of which build ot a fever pitch, and then leave us.  That’s right.  The holidays end.  And worse, the end just as full Winter sets in.  We tend to find ourselves facing the grey and cold, overweight, out of shape, and somewhat depressed.  It’s hard to get re-motivated under those conditions.  The typical response is to just give up, with a vague internal promise that,  “I’ll get on the bike when it gets a bit better outside.”  Or,  “I’ll do some workout stuff at the gym….  Maybe.”  You know.  All the New Year’s Resolution stuff.

What follows is a solution to this dilemma.  We don’t claim that it’s the only solution, but it works.  In fact, if the opportunity is seized, this time just could lead to one of the best years of your life.

Best of all, this solution will only take you about an hour to get started.  Ready?  Here goes!

The Three Part Solution

First:  Set a GOAL!

Second:  Make a Plan

Third:  Accountability

 First:  Set a GOAL!

Humans are goal-driven, goal-seeking creatures.  Goals motivate us.  We strive best to achieve when we have a target or strong desire to motivate us.  There are all kinds of goals.  Some are short term, e.g. “I will say something constructive in this meeting.”  Some are a bit longer term, such as the intention to get to Bob’s Birthday Party next month.  And then there are the big, motivating ones, involving longer intervals of time.  These are “Big Goals.”

A “Big Goal” is not vague.  It’s not something like,  “Someday I’d like to take a trip to Paris.”  No, no!  A “Big Goal”  is simply this…  A DREAM WITH A DEADLINE!

Pick out something that really excites you.  For cyclists it just might be riding 100 miles at once.  It might be doing that big charity event.  It might be racking up a Personal Best in a given event.  It has to be something that turns you on, and gets your juices flowing.  In other words, it has to be a DREAM.

But then comes the “Deadline” part.  Pick the date.  The event might be an annual one.  So you already know when it will run.  If it’s an individual accomplishment, set the date yourself.  Mark it down on your personal calendar. And then…  (here comes the really really hard part.  Are you ready?)  …Write the check!  That’s right.  Commit to it.  And no commitment is more committed than putting your money down.

The event isn’t set up to take an entry fee yet?  Doesn’t matter.  You know about how much it will be.  Write the check and tumb-tack it to the wall over your desk.  Set the deadline!

Second:  Make a Plan

Nothing happens without preparation.  Set up your PLAN now.  You may not know exactly what it will take to actually be ready to achieve your goal.  You may not know just what types and specifics of training are going to be necessary.  But you do know that you will have to work to achieve your Dream, and that work will take time.  So get out your calendar (or your calendar App) and schedule the training time.  You do know that your training will require time.  You can do the research, ask the question, define the specific actions later, but block off the time now, and start doing something with it immediately.

Third:  Accountability

What does it take to hold yourself accountable?  The answer is simple.  Keep a Training Log.  This is your record of what you have done, when you have done it, how much you have done, and the day-to-day effects and success of the actions.  Your Training Log is your accountability file.  It doesn’t lie to you.  It lets you know when you have skipped a precious day of training.  It lets you know when you are doing a lot, so that you know why you are fatigued right now.  Your training log is the most valuable tool you could possibly have if you decide to consult a coach.  But it’s most important function is that of holding you to your day-to-day commitments.

Your Training Log records your progress.  It is how you implement those intermediate goals, and short term “process goals” that will ultimately bring you to the realization of your Big Dream.

A training log doesn’t have to be overly complicated.  It has to record the day, date, and the activity performed.  You can use it to rate each training activity.  It is your error log.  It will help you find and diagnose problems with your training.  Above all, it keeps you honest and on track.

That’s it.  Do those three things.  Do them now.  Then follow through.  There are a lot of refinements, and we’ll talk about some of them in the future, but implement those three steps and you will be well on the way to having an absolutely aamazing riding season next year.

Next Week: Coming back from Illness or Injury

~//~

This series began with the post on Tuesday, 19 June 2012.  It is intended to continue for three years.  Each week, we will discuss exercises, skills, practices, and activities designed to bring the new (or “experienced”) rider a high level of cycling competence.  We’ll address common problems, and (always) stress safe practice.

~//~

A Note on Timing:  This series uses Mid-June as the starting point of the “Cyclists Year.”  We do this because this is the time that most folks decide to start riding.  If you are following this guide, you can “adjust” the timing to fit your personal “first three years.”  Do note that some of the posts will concern weather and seasonal changes.  When that starts to happen, just swap the “months” around to fit your personal timeline.

The Quest for Speed

What is it about speed?  Why are we so obsessed with it?  We humans, and particularly, we Americans, seem to have this obsession with going fast.  Just about any form of fast is good.  We seek to run faster, to build faster vehicles, to get to that place that is known as fast.

We cyclists are no different.  We seem to be manic about speed.  Good golly, about the first two things that non-riders think to ask when encountering a cyclist are, “How far do you go?”  and  “How fast can you go on that bicycle?”  The whole of the bicycle industry sells things based on their ability to make a rider faster.  We follow the doings of pharmaceutically enhanced “Pros” with intensity.  Almost any group ride with more than three members will, at some point, turn into a competition. 

The phrase “competitive cyclist” is redundant.

Don’t think so?

Try this scenario:  Two riders are out on individual solo rides.  They happen to be on the same road, traveling in the same direction.  If they come into sight of each other, a contest begins.  Can the trailing rider catch and pass the leading one?  Can the leading rider hold off this challenge?  It’s a secret and undeclared challenge of speed.

  I’ve had folks “secret race” me while I was both of us were commuting!  Good greif!

In some part I understand this.  I love those moments when I feel the speed.  The blistering descent is a pure joy.  Those moments when everything comes together on a long solo ride, the road is smooth and relatively flat, the breathing good, and the bike surges.  Wonderful!

I say I understand it, but I do not know why we are so intrigued with the act of going faster, nor why cycling has this strongly competitive dimension.

This week we explore speed, in several of its dimensions.  What does it mean, and how do we generate it, handle it, and use it.

Friday Follies ~~ Lanterne Rouge

Somebody has to be last.

It took me a while to discover that I was an endurance athlete.  That’s another way of saying that I wasn’t particularly fast, but I could keep going a lot longer than most.

Remember kids games?  Most of them are based on acceleration.  I didn’t have acceleration.  I got picked last for a lot of games.  But then I started noticing something.  I could wear a lot of the other kids down.  There is this idiotically mean game that kids play.  Keep Away.  As a game it’s just good fun, much like tag.  In fact, I made my discovery during tag games.

Before I hit on a strategy, I spent a lot of time as “It.”  But one day I had an inspiration.  Rather than run after any kid who was nearby, and not catch him, I picked out one kid in particular.  No matter who else was around, I ran after that kid.  If the kid went to “Base.” I stood there waiting for him.  At first my target would easily out run me.  But with time, he got slower, winded, and eventually, I caught him.

How does that relate to the tormenting kind of Keep-Away?  You remember that one?  Some kid runs up and grabs your hat, your book, your glasses, something of value to you.  The kid then taunts you.  If you get close, the kid tosses the object to another kid.  With a combination of agility and acceleration, the gang can keep the “slow kid”  (me) in a state of amusing torment for a long time.

I learned to apply my Tag strategy to this situation.  Rather than chasing after my belonging, I went after the leader of the pack.  Eventually, I’d catch him, and then I’d wail the living daylights out of him until he had his confederates return my property.  After a while they stopped picking on me.

When it came to running, I was absolutely never ready for any race that I ever ran for the first time.  The 880 was a shock.  It started fast and I got left behind.  My first Mile was just as bad.  Same thing with the two mile and the 5K.  But I learned.  If the race was long enough, I could win it.

When I discovered competitive cycling, I had a bit of an epiphany.  It took me a while to discover that I was a sprinter.  (Sprinting in cycling is about power.  Power, correctly applied, yields acceleration.)  The thing was, I wasn’t a great sprinter.  Worse, I happen to be possessed of a large body.  In the best shape that I ever achieved, I was a good 30 pounds heavier than the climbers.  If there were hills on the course (and there always were!) I lost.

I’ve mentioned elsewhere, there was a time in my life when many other things occupied me.  I did what a lot of men do in their early 30s.  I got heavy and out of shape.  It took a long time to come back from that.  The first time I rode in an organized century, the parking lot was all but empty when I finished.

My second century was better and worse.  Better because I was in a bit better shape and better prepared for it.  Worse in that the route was very hilly, and…

Well, I started out well.  I was passed by a lot of folks, but there were a lot more behind me.  I found people I could ride with…  For a while.  Then they dropped me.  As the day wore on, there were fewer and fewer people around me or in sight.  Then came the time when I was alone.

That ride route had regular rest stops.  They were almost exactly 20 miles apart.  There were only three other riders at the last stop when I got there.  They left as I pulled in.  The rest stop worker was nice to me, but she was taking the stop apart, and was obviously impatient to leave.  I saw no one else for the next 20 miles.  That last leg was one of the longest I’ve ever done.  It took a geologic interval for me to get to the end of it.  When I finally did, there were three people there, event workers.  They applauded in a desultory fashion, and then they gave me two slices of cold pizza and a warm soda.

“You’re the last one in,”  one of them said.  “Somebody has to be.”

Back in the early history of cycling, when “bicycle” meant a “high-wheeler,” things were not as they are now.  At that time, steam locomotive powered railroads were the absolute height of technology, speed, and power.  This railroad technology was still somewhat primitive.  The last car on a train would have a red lamp, or “lanterne rouge” displayed.  This did two things.  It allowed engineers of following trains to realize there was a train ahead.  Just as important, the conductors of trains would look for the red light on their own train to make sure that no couplings had come undone.  When big time bicycle racing started, in the very early 20^th century, it was natural for commentators to refer to the last rider in a tour or race as “the caboose,” or the “lanterne rouge.”

Thursday Thoughts: Seasonal Rites

Some cyclists really enjoy warm, even hot weather.  (I’m one of them!)  Others relish (or say they do) the cooler seasons of the year.  I’ve noted that often the Heat-seekers find that “it’s too hot to ride.”  The converse is just as true for the Heat-Avoiders.  They too seem to disappear when the temp drops down into the low 40s.

It is a fact, we all have some range in which we are comfortable.  This range can be extended with technical support, but for each and every one of us, there is a set of conditions that are unacceptable.

If there is one article of clothing that truly marks a cyclist as dedicated it would be a pair of tights.  The purchase of a pair of tights is a commitment.  The “inexpensive” ones are not cheap.  The good ones are expensive.  The types that are made for extreme conditions are insanely expensive.  (Note:  In this context “extreme” means  temps below 20 degrees F, with gusting wind, and usually some amount of precipitation.)  The expenditure necessary to acquire tights just about forces the buyer to use them.  Buying a pair of tights is committing to riding in suboptimal conditions.

Arm warmers don’t do this.  Wind vests and jackets don’t do it.  There are lots of riders out there who extend the year with these lighter garments, but most of them seem to disappear before Thanksgiving, migrating to wherever it is that Summer Cyclists go for the Winter.  Tights, on the other hand, seem to really mean something.

Tights tend to define things.  Only the more dedicated riders own and wear them.  They mark two seasonal shifts.  In the Spring there is the First Ride Without Tights.  In the Autumn there is the First Ride In Tights.  Some folks always rush the season, at both ends.  One sees riders out in tights in the earl Fall, on sunny days with temps in the low 70s.  In the early Spring there are always those who decide to go bare-legged on cloudy days just above 40 degrees.

In both cases, the decision to use, or abandon tights is a commitment.  It says,  “I am here.  I am riding.  I will not be stopped.”  For some it’s an emotional decision.  Others operate on cold rational calculus.  But either way, once tights are donned, or abandoned, a choice is made, and a course is set.

It is now November.  Our climate is doing just exactly what it should be doing.  The first cold snaps are arriving.  Its time to put on the tights.

Ride Report: Mid-Fall Celebration Night Ride

“Did anybody see a guy on a horse with a pumpkin!”

“Hey!  It’s really dark out here!”

“This is great!”

“Do not say the word that starts with R!”

Eight of us met in Hollonville to do the annual Mid-Fall (Samhain) Celebration Night Ride.  I love this one.  It’s Fall.  It’s dark.  It’s a real “Sleepy Hollow” ride.

Before I go any farther, I’d like to make an observation, in the form of a question.  Has anyone else noticed that Flat Shoals Road is uphill in both directions?

Speaking of hills…  It’s an interesting phenomenon, hills don’t seem to be so bad at night.  Perhaps this is because we can’t see them ahead, can not see how tall they are, can’t anticipate how long or how bad the hill will be.

All that said, there were eight of us, and everyone was grinning at the start.  There would be no moon during the time we would be out, and the sky was completely overcast.  Add to that, the country we rode through is more remote, less populated.  It was dark out!

We saw very little traffic, and what little we encountered treated us well, gave us a good respectful amount of room.

We proceeded out of Hollonville and down to Concord with little trouble.  This part of the ride was more quiet, as folks were warming up to the ride.  By the time we left Concord there were conversations and laughter going on throughout the group.

Eventually we got down into Flat Shoals Road.  Just after crossing the Flint River, we climbed a bit and then made the turn onto Covered Bridge Road.  From that turn it is three and a half miles of unpaved road.  The road surface varied from good firm easy hard pack , to gravel covered somewhat sketchy, washboard.  I will state here that everyone present was on some kind of road bike, and no one burst into flames, or crashed, on the dirt road part of the ride.  Some of the less experienced got a bit quiet, but all made it through this ordeal with flying colors.  Some of us (most) were laughing and joking all the way along this section.

The dirt road part of this ride is wonderful.  You can’t see a light anywhere.  There are no illuminated houses, no dogs, and no cars!

The weather cooperated with us marvelously too.  It was cool, but not cold, and everyone seemed to have dressed exactly right for the conditions.  Yes, we experienced an occasional drop of moisture falling from the sky, but the rain waited until we finished the ride!

Present were Jim, Kelvin, Dan, Travis, Courtenay, Scott, Chris,  and your correspondent.  Two of our group had not done this ride before.  Six of us were repeaters.  Interesting thing that.  Seems like there actually are folks (other than me) who actually enjoy this kind of challenge.

I love the night, and had a great time with this group.  I’d do it again tomorrow, and the comments I got seemed to echo that sentiment.

P.S.  For those detail oriented among us...
Distance:  32.5 miles
Time:  2:29
Rolling Average:  13.0 mph

Your First Three Years ~ Part 14:

Dealing with Fear

A Guide for Beginner (and Experienced!) Cyclists, to the Art and Practice of Cycling.  Becoming Proficient, Fit, and Happy on your bike.

Fear is a part of our makeup.  There are all kinds of things that we fear.  Some fears are rational, such as the fear of falling off of the roof while cleaning the gutters.  Other fears are irrational, such as the dread of the monster that hides under the bed.  In both cases there are tactics for comprehending fear, dealing with it, and removing it.

Cyclists face fear.  I’m not talking about the fear of falling over on the bicycle.  Presumably, if you have read this far, you’ve managed to get past that one.  But there are other fears. 

We can break things down into two categories.  There is the anxiety kind of thing.  We’re afraid we won’t be able to perform well, or that we’ll disappoint someone, or ourselves.  We’re afraid that someone will think we look strange, or that our riding will somehow be seen as frivolous.  There’s the “what if” variety of anxiety fear too.  “What if I have a flat?”  “What if the chain falls off?”  “What if I get lost?”

These anxiety fears can be dealt with.  First off, the center of anxiety related fears rarely materializes.  Second, with just a bit of easily attained training or preparation, anxieties can be resolved.  We can learn to repair a flat, deal with a derailed chain, bring a map or a GPS.  We can anticipate and take appropriate actions to prevent or minimize the situation we worry about.

But then there is the other kind of fear.  We’re talking about the 100 proof bottled in bond, FEAR now.  The kind that makes the pit of your stomach feeze, that puts that awful copper taste in your mouth.  The kind of fear that grabs you by the throat, glares into your eyes, and yells into your face  “I OWN YOU!!!”

What are we to make of this, and how do we deal with it?

It’s no secret that I often ride in traffic.  Sometimes it’s pretty heavy traffic.  On fairly frequent occasions I get asked,  “Aren’t you afraid?  There are so many really really bad, crazy drivers out there.”  I usually reply that no, I’m not often afraid.  I know what I’m doing,  I’m very conscious of my environment.  I ride assertively but not aggressively.  I look for the signs of drivers who are not well controlled.  I ride to always give myself an “out.”  Mostly I’m too busy to be afraid.

At that point in the conversation, I seem to get the facial expression that says,  “You are insane!”    Might I add, the very question, the one that asks,  “Aren’t you afraid?” says more about the questioner than it does about the situation.

But that said, it is rational to fear a close altercation with a motor vehicle.  The difference between a rational fear and panic is information, practice, and gradual acquisition of skills.  Learning to ride in traffic, and to do so well and safely removes a lot of the fear.

It starts with an admission of reality.  There is no such thing as an accident.  There are collisions and crashes.  But these things don’t “just happen.”  They are caused, and it usually takes the participation of more than one individual.

Safety does not come from armor.  It comes form avoidance.  Want a good statistical example?

Intuitively one should be safer (and therefore less fearful) whilst riding in, or driving an SUV.  Riding a bike should be dangerous.  But if one compares injuries and fatalities on a passenger miles traveled basis it become apparent that an SUV occupant is seven time more likely to be killed or injured than is a cylist.

It is healthy to consider the possible consequences.  But it is not healthy to harbor a morbid fear of them.  Just like the anxiety cases we mentioned above, training, preparation, gradual exposure in a controlled fashion, and good practice remove most of the causes of the “Big Fear.”

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention where that kind of training could be had.

The Atlanta Bicycle Campaign sponsors and teaches classes in safe practical vehicular cycling.  For more information see This Site

Or pick up a copy of John Forester’s Effective Cycling .  Read it and see if this doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Ultimately knowledge is power, and knowledge removes fear.

                        

Next Week: Goals?  Next Season Starts NOW

~//~

This series began with the post on Tuesday, 19 June 2012.  It is intended to continue for three years.  Each week, we will discuss exercises, skills, practices, and activities designed to bring the new (or “experienced”) rider a high level of cycling competence.  We’ll address common problems, and (always) stress safe practice.

~//~

A Note on Timing:  This series uses Mid-June as the starting point of the “Cyclists Year.”  We do this because this is the time that most folks decide to start riding.  If you are following this guide, you can “adjust” the timing to fit your personal “first three years.”  Do note that some of the posts will concern weather and seasonal changes.  When that starts to happen, just swap the “months” around to fit your personal timeline.

Cold Feet

On or off the bike, my feet get cold in October, and they stay that way until sometime in May.

I’m not talking about “cold feet” as a synonym for cowardice.  I mean my feet are cold.  It’s not intolerable cold, just a sate of not being warm.  It gets worse as soon as I go outside, and even more so as soon as I saddle up.

This isn’t a particularly age-related thing.  My feet, and to a lesser degree, my hands get cold quickly.  Advancing age has only aggravated the situation.

To this add, on the bike, our hands and feet are out in the wind.  More, our bike pedals are most excellent “heat sinks.”  They are made from good metals that conduct heat very well.  Add to that, cycling shoes are not well insulated.

Even Winter cycling boots, which I most certainly do use, are not all that great for this kind of thing.  Here’s a question.  Why doesn’t somebody make a cycling equivalent of my Wolverines?  Honestly, in the colder months I’m not all that concerned with going fast.  Trust me on this; no one is as fast in cold weather.  I am rather more interested in getting there, and doing so without incurring a cold injury.

In recent years I’ve developed a different standard for cold weather rides.  If someone asks,  “How was the ride?” to a large extent my answer will be based on the “Foot Chill Scale.”

The Foot Chill Scale (FCS) is the result of a complex set of interactions.  Basically it works as follows.

Feet Warm = Excellent!

Feet cool = Okay

Feet Moderately cold = Not Bad

Feet Cold = So-So

Feet Very Cold = Could have been better

Feet Extremely Cold = Not Ideal

Toes Hurt From Cold = It sucked

Toes Numb and Feet Hurt = Rotten stinking I HATE IT!

Ride discontinued and medical help summoned due to cold injury of feet =  (Fill in blank with appropriate profanity)

The problem with the FCS is that it is a rating of the result of an action.  It doesn’t predict a thing.

Here’s how it works.  I look at the weather forecast for the projected time and area of the ride.  I look outside.  I check the current temperature.  I read deep into the NOAA model data.  I check the winds aloft and the satellite overheads.  Once I’ve assembled all of that data, I consider carefully my options of liner socks, various thicknesses of insulating socks, chemical foot warmers, Winter cycling boots, boot covers, tights, leg warmers, jackets, gloves, hats, helmet covers, and wind shells.  Then I make a guess.

So, the FCS is a method of rating just how accurate my guessing is.  If I hit it right, if I manage to make an accurate prediction of the conditions and match my gear to them well, then I end up with a high FCS score.  That score is more a means of determining two things, 1)  That it is Winter and it is cold.  2) How well I am dealing with the situation.

I can usually avoid hypothermia.  I know how to keep the core temp up, and am most often successful at it.  Keeping hands and feet warm is the challenge.

Strike that.  My feet aren’t going to be warm.  Like I said, October to May, they’re cold.  Comfortable doesn’t apply either.  I like warm feet.  I must admit (with a sigh of resignation) my goal is to maintain the level of least discomfort.

What’s your Winter Challenge?