When the legs feel strong on a ride, it’s pretty easy to
stay focused on keeping a strong cadence. But it takes no small bit of mental
inspiration to make the brain reject the “we’re tired” message from the legs.
Jens Voigt, the chatty, newly retired pro cyclist has made
his response famous: “Shut up legs.”
He even has those words painted on his bike to remind
himself what to say when his legs are groaning.
Jens has figured out that legs can be lazy when they’re
tired and that it’s up the brain to crack the whip to keep them from holding
back any energy they still have.
But to crack the whip, the brain needs an inspiration – like
the will to catch or stay ahead of other riders -- as a spark to ignite the
legs into a higher gear.
On my most recent ride, my legs were definitely tired from a
long, but fast ride the day earlier. I still had some residual lactic acid in
the quads so that whenever I stood up to pedal a short ascent, the quads barked
mightily when I sat down to pedal on. I had an OK pace nonetheless, mainly
because there was a strong tailwind pushing me. But on the 25-mile return, it
was a double whammy of tough conditions. Tired legs and a serious headwind,
like 15-20 mph at times, to pedal against.
I told myself to just pedal, don’t beat yourself up trying
to get pace against the headwind. When I thought about it, that was what my
legs were saying to my brain, and my brain was good with it.
So that’s how I rode the first nine-mile split on the way
back, just pedaling steady against the wind, not knocking myself out. Sure
enough, I rode it slow as molasses. It was on the next, final split I time
myself on, a 14.5-mile stretch of mostly flat terrain with occasional rollers,
where my legs told my brain to stay the course. We’re tired and there’s a headwind,
they said, so we can’t do any kind of strong pace.
I rode with that mindset for about two miles, and then
suddenly got passed by a rider I’ve seen often on the trail blazing along in
the other direction. I call her blonde stripes because she’s blonde and always
has on a jersey with green, black and white vertical stripes. She’s a strong
rider, and I caught up to her when she had to slow way down to wait for a group
of people walking on the trail. They blocked both lanes and eventually moved
over enough so we could pass. Once clear, she took off and it was then that my
brain shot a memo to the legs: Shut up and go.
I wanted to see if I could catch up to her, because she was
going 18-20 mph into the headwind, and I figured after awhile, she’d bog down,
since she wasn’t drafting anybody. But I wasn’t sure about that because she had
a steady, hard pace. So I set to grinding it out, trying to reel her in. I had
a pretty big gap to close, around 30 or 40 yards. I slowly gained on her, since
she did back off her earlier pace. Eventually I’d build up enough pace to pass
her. Nice Colnago!
By this time, my legs weren’t barking at all, just churning
away. The “shut up legs” command had been heeded as if the tired legs excuse
was off the table. I kept up the strong pace into the wind, then passed a
drinking fountain/restroom stop where a rider was about to get on the trail
right behind me. This guy soon gained on my pace and then passed going about 20
mph. Keeping that pace against a headwind is no easy thing, but he seemed very
fresh. I thought, hey, if I can get on his wheel, the rest of the ride back wouldn’t
be such a battle with the wind.
So I told the legs a second time to shut up, and tried to
pick up the pace enough to catch him. It took me awhile, like a mile or two,
but I eventually got on his wheel and caught my breath. But this guy kept
riding a blistering pace, and I started to really feel the effects of having
ridden 40 or so miles, many of them against a headwind.
I sat up to rest, since my legs now were beat, drained, and
without the power needed to keep the pace I’d been riding. The guy kept
lengthening the gap until I couldn’t see him. Then I realized how much more
power had been sleeping in my legs when I started the last half of the ride.
The brain just needed the spark of inspiration of a faster rider to wake them
up, and suddenly a higher tempo was happening on the bike. Still, without the
sparks of incentive from the two fast riders, my legs would have won the too
tired to ride faster argument.
The guy came in sight again about two miles to the finish of
the split, and I could see he had backed off on his speed. I wanted to catch
him before the end of the split. I took a shot at it, and gained on him, but I
was too far behind, and couldn’t do it by the end of the split. Still, the
split time was strong considering the headwind. The strong time was sparked by two
fast riders who had inspired the Jens Voigt mantra that tired legs should just
be quiet!
Can’t we all just get
along?
The last two miles of my regular ride is through heavy
traffic. The other day on the last stretch home, I pulled up next to a car as
we waited for the light rail train to pass. “So are you gonna take off like
Peter Sagan?” the young guy driving in the car says to me in a playful tone.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “But he hasn’t been winning much lately.”
We chitchatted until the rail guard arm rose after the train
passed.
“You have a great day,” the guy said as he hit the gas.
“You too,” I said, waving.
I thought, now there’s an example of a driver and cyclist on
friendly terms. It was a great thing to me. The guy had to be into cycling in
the first place, since he knows who Peter Sagan is. But either way, it was nice
to have a good vibe from a driver who wasn’t offended by a cyclist occupying a
lane on the street.
I’ve been honked at by angry drivers through this stretch. I
try to wave a friendly howdy do to them, but it’s not always possible. Once
when I tried to do that, I almost crashed. It’s a tense stretch to ride
through, since it feeds a couple of freeway on ramps and oftentimes drivers are
in a hurry to get on them. If they feel encroached upon by a cyclist, some will
honk as they go by, venting their anger.
I just focus on pedaling hard, knowing the gauntlet will be
over in a few hundred yards. One time, passing under the freeway, a guy on a
Harley gunned his engine, sending out a deafening decibel explosion that
bounced a few times off the concrete of the short tunnel-like underside of the
freeway and made the ride a bit unsteady. Such is the reality of cycling in
heavy street traffic. There are good vibes, bad vibes, and the occasional loud
blast of motorcycle acceleration that will make you want to dive for cover! But if
drivers and cyclists can keep their interactions friendly, hey, we can all safely share the road.
Til next time, remember to strap on a helmet every time you
get on the bike. After that, keep the rubber side down, ride safely and most
importantly, have a blast.
-- Mark Eric Larson
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