Tag: cycling

40 Second Segment

A quick glance behind, barely a dart of the eyes but it’s enough to register if there are any vehicles behind. Although at this speed it doesn’t really matter. One final big drag of air – slow and methodical. The lungs filled and rib-cage stretched to capture and contain that exaggerated draw. As it tops out you can feel it across the back of the shoulders. A feeling of bristling meditation develops as the oxygen enriches the blood. The exaggeration continues on the outwards purge. Jaw slacked and any unwanted tension dropping away.

You’ve studied the segment and are familiar with it having rode it many times. A left hand turn followed by a straight 400m at roughly 4% gradient. But you’ve not yet attacked it at KOM pace before. You know pace of the existing record holder. You know what the top speed should be. The wind is favourable. The road is dry. You know the gear ratio you want. You have to carry maximum speed into the segment – in the physics of the sprint that makes momentum so important. If you lose a few mph then valuable power is used to accelerate to a higher speed, you might eventually reach the same top speed but essential seconds have ticked away trying to get there. Your virtual rival was at that point before you and it’ll take something extraordinary to make it up. The area under the speed vs time graph has to be maximised.

Brakes feathered, road position and line chosen and we’re coasting into the corner now. Energy is being preserved and these last few seconds are giving the system maximum possible recovery. Hands are placed, fingers and palm are adjusted, grip tested and then reset again on the bars. Full contact, full control. The optimum speed has been reached to allow safe passage through the corner with maximum momentum and placement at the other side. It’s a zen like state now, with sensory systems at full alertness, fuelled by adrenaline – ready for fight and flight in this instance.

Sight and feel deal with the road surface. Information streaming into your brain from every point at super-fast pace. A rough patch. A painted line. A metal hole cover. A small stone pings away from your tyre to some place else. The resulting response is transmitted through the carbon in the wheels and then frame, then saddle and handlebars to your touch. Full tyre traction is resumed. You’re still set and stable. Eyes and ears switch focus to monitor the road ahead. Anything outside of this doesn’t exist. Full commitment will be required and any obstacle or obstruction will see the effort aborted. This action is completed in the blink of an eye. The road opens up.

The centrifugal forces ease, and the bikes tilts back to towards vertical. Your body lifts forward from the saddle. Everything in your being is focused forward. Every part of the bike and your whole body will be part of this effort. The hands clenched and secure, the force driven down through the right leg is both anchored and aided by the arms. The entire body is being recruited at this moment with the intention to put every newton of force into the peddle. In the same motion the left leg is pulling up, it’s part of the reaction, part of maximising power from the body to the bike and to the road. Care and balance is required to ensure the back wheel has the required traction. At this point the cadence still low and resistance is huge. You should feel this resistance as the stroke develops and around the full 360 degree revolution. As the right leg completes its downwards motion the system shifts to engage the left leg. But both sides are still pushing the crank round. The hips switch, different muscles recruit to drag and kick before the main muscle groups fully engage again. The bike frame is thrown to the opposite side. The left leg engages in the downwards assault, the right lifting now. The hips transferring the opposing forces, the back tight from holding the hips and harnessing the input and balance from the upper body.

That first push tells you all you need to know. Have you chosen the correct gear ratio? Too high and the acceleration with be too slow – the area under the graph, you want that top speed as soon as you can. Too low and you’ll spin out too soon – a gear change will be required but can you sacrifice that second or two? And more than that, did you feel strong during that first revolution? Is that spark/twitch/kick there to hit that top speed and hold it on until the end?

There are many reasons to cycle and many reasons to enjoy it. There really is something for everyone, and something for every type of body. Sometimes you find what you’re good at and that gets you hooked. When I got back on the bike after a long time away the leaderboards on Strava were things to observe in awe. That cannot be right? How is that possible?

But you start to figure things out. You train your body and at each stage you reassess what is possible. You get stronger. You get fitter and build the engine. It could be that those first few revolutions of the pedals in a sprint effort that convince you that there’s something there to work on. It’s a feeling you enjoy. A feeling of being in control of both your body and bike. Never take good health for granted.

And this is where discoveries are made on the leaderboards. That first time you leave it in the big ring and sprint up that street or incline. That first time your body fails halfway up but that’s part of the discovery. You lasted twice as long as you did last time. Looking at the data you had matched the KOM time up to that point. The impossible is now, if not possible, then understandable.

And that’s the thrill of the chase. The journey of self-improvement. The road to achievement. Or just bloody-minded competitive spirit. Competition with yourself and any other soul that has tested themselves on that segment.

Back on the road and you’re halfway through the course. You’ve reached the top speed that you had set yourself and things are going well, so you’ll continue the effort. The high torque and huge forces of the start are past by this point. Aerodynamics and efficiency are in your thoughts. You get low, compact and aerodynamic, perhaps perched on the front of the saddle. Peddling is still forced and heavy but it’s largely all in the legs and hips by this point.

The KOM is on and that makes a huge difference to the mental aspect of the effort.  Sprinting can actually be quite enjoyable when kept to 10 or 20 seconds. Beyond that and you’re going to places that most people don’t like to go. There’s a thought that nags sometimes when I look at leaderboards about whether other people can’t do that or just won’t do that – in the end it’s the same thing, just the mental and physical sides of the coin. Your body is giving you 100 signals to stop what you’re doing and at that stage it’s the easiest thing in the world to listen to it. Through training you improve this capacity. The difference between hanging on for 20 seconds and 40 seconds is huge. But you have trained, and you know you can hang on because you’ve done it before. This is another mental crutch to help you to that finish line.

Then it’s over. You shift into the lowest gear and paddle around the kerbside for a few minutes, sucking in oxygen and keeping the legs turning as lightly as possible. Normality returns quickly enough. The numbers looked good, you’re confident you got the KOM. You’ll know when you return home and upload your ride. It’s all part of the routine and part of the thrill. It’s a good feeling and that’s what you’re chasing.

Until some point in the future when you get that “uh oh” message informing you that someone has bettered your time. And then you know that you’ll have to do it all again, only faster next time.

How my bike was stolen and what it taught me

Monday morning and ready to leave for work. A little bit later than usual so I could walk my daughter to school. Down the stairs, shoes and jackets on and open the front door. First thought. That’s my daughters bikes wheel on the ground behind the car. Second thought. I remember putting the bikes back in the shed yesterday afternoon. And the third thought is the realisation of what’s happened.

It’s an unusual feeling that moment  you realise you’ve been robbed. The mind seems to hold two images simultaneously, one with the bikes in the shed and the new one of shed emptied of prized possessions.  And it cant quite resolve both images. The gears spin and slip as they attempt to turn back time to make a different outcome. It’s all futile of course, and the realisation that it has happened begins to sink in. Then comes the frustration of the steps that are required to start clearing up the mess and getting back to normal.

For the last couple of years I’d usually kept my good bike in the house. Several years before that I’d rediscovered the joys of cycling. I’d been keen and regular in my training and rides and had decided to treat myself to an upgrade. The range and quality of bikes on offer these days is fantastic but that can come at a cost. And with that cost comes value to others; others with a looser definition of possession and ownership.

Over the summer the family house had lapsed into a bad habit of leaving the front door unlocked and ajar when the kids were in the garden. Somebody was always in the house so it’s not a problem. Not quite. I’d a habit of parking my bike up behind the front door. Hidden from site, even from anyone visiting the front step.

One day my wife had mentioned that a Hermes delivery driver (not one of the usual ones) had passed comment on the bike. Apparently, he had stepped in the house and shouted up the stairs instead of ringing the bell. This seemed unusual as most people respect the threshold of a stranger’s house. Most, not all.

Since it was the still the summer holidays it was very likely that the door would be left open again at some point. We had recently got ourselves a new shed at the side of the house (where my wife had hoped I would keep all of my bikes). So, to provide the bike with some level of relative protection in the short term it was moved it to the shed.

A few days later the same driver returned and this time he had asked where the bike was or if I was out for a ride?

A few days later and said bike. Along with a second bike. Some bike parts and some tools had been taken at some point during the night. My thoughts are that it was two people. One in the shed with a torch and one outside keeping watch as they had a quick rummage (long enough to go through tool boxes and containers), throw some stuff in a back pack and make a sharp exit.

Thinking back on the whole scene I had made it way too easy for the thieves. The lock on the shed was in good condition but was barely more than a device for keeping the door closed. After the event the lock was left in the closed position on the opened door, with no damage or use of force visible. It was either picked or they had a key. I had intended to add a second better lock. Should’ve, could’ve, didn’t. The outside light used to be a motion sensitive security light, but the sensor stopped working a long time ago. Either of these could’ve been ample deterrent.

A common mistake, I would learn, is leaving keys hanging up around the front door. This is something entrepreneurs will look for first. An easy opportunity. Something like this could be the difference between a scheme being a real possibility and the person just moving over to the next thing.

It is possible that the Hermes driver had entered the house with a mind to having a look around. It’s more common than you’d think and straight-out brazen no doubt works for many looking for an easy score. Any valuables, any keys left unguarded? The driver would’ve found both as the shed keys are within easy reach – (there wasn’t anything of particular value kept in there yet)- and my bike.

Of course, it may not have been that driver either personally or his contacts. It could’ve been others that I’m not even aware of. It could’ve been the guys that make the sheds – they’d have the keys and locations for hundreds of garden sheds. It could have been the blind opportunity of some creep that can pick a lock. For all I know they’ve been round checking the shed every month until they’d found something of value. I don’t mind naming Hermes as the driver’s behaviour was suspicious, and even more so in hindsight. They are one of the delivery companies who doesn’t include the name of delivery driver with the receipt and records. Also, in the days following we were expected another delivery which was being sent out through Hermes. On day one it never appeared. Not on day two either. Day three had a note claiming an attempted delivery had failed, which we know to be incorrect. It didn’t look great. Indeed, if you read up on some of the costumer experiences surrounding their deliveries you could almost conclude that delivering items was an inconvenience.

I contacted the police about the theft. In my mind by that stage I had their investigation all planned out and perhaps my expectations had been raised to unrealistically high levels from reading too many detective novels. The response wasn’t immediate. It took 4 days for them to visit and interview. A discussion with a policeman in the neighbourhood reset my expectations and it seemed that unless they catch the thief in the act then an arrest is unlikely. And if the theft was planned or targeted then it would’ve likely been different people involved – so any leads or suspicions are moot. Besides by that time the bike would probably be stored somewhere well out of the way or more likely already in a different city.

But surely there are still leads to follow? The police informed me that they did ask Hermes who the driver was for those deliveries. But Hermes declined the opportunity to give them the information.

This was probably the biggest eye opener for me. Not that the police are busy or overworked. Not that my bike really isn’t that important. Not it was just a trespass and theft from a garden shed and not a residence. But how limited the powers are the police can actually yield for their day to day work. Any perception of power is vanquish with a simple no comment. This is something that law-abiding people do not realise and something that the criminally minded understand all to well. The time and resources to investigate and start to build a case (even if it appears painfully obvious or likely) for anything but the more serious crimes just isn’t worth it. It’s not that the police don’t want to see things though, it is just not viable. And even if they had been able to track the guy down, asked him questions, he’d would’ve just have to say no comment and things would grind to a terminal halt.

And as Hermes have proven, most people don’t have to tell them anything, and more often than not the energy to force them to do so just isn’t worth it – in this instance at least. And this is where I would like online retailers to be a bit more discerning and demanding of their delivery firms. These firms are being used to visit the consumers houses and property with their products and wares. It would be basic decency and a show of trust to supply a name or reference for this service. There’s no little irony that some of the components i’ll need to order to replace the stolen bike may be delivered by the very guy behind its theft.