Cycling, as with most sports, revels in the glory of the outdoors. Whether the agenda is a grueling training ride or a group outing with your peeps, it's hard not to at one point or another say to yourself, "wow, it is a gorgeous day," or see some beautiful roadside vista that for an instant blocks out the thought of your heart rate/power reading. For me, there are several tin barns that never fail to draw a lingering eye. One is a bright fire engine red specimen out on Iron Works Road, the other is a multicolored hodge podge on Miller Chapel. In short, the joy of the bike shares the stage with the awesomeness of being outside and experiencing the world.
So what happens, you may ask, when the outdoors doesn't cooperate? When it's raining, or snowing, or the daylight goes too fast, or the temperatures drop below tolerable levels? What is a cyclist to do?
....what indeed...
Runners have their treadmills. Runnishers have their ellipticals. People who want to be cyclists but really aren't have their recumbent machines.
Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you for your enjoyment and/or horror,
the trainer.
"What's so awful?" you may ask. "This looks perfectly innocent to me, perfectly harmless. Why such potent feelings one way or the other?"
Because when all is said and done, when it really comes down to it, cycling is nothing more than spinning your legs in circles. Endless circles. Around and around and around in circles. More circles than one sane person could count, and that's on a short ride. And spinning your legs in circles is boring. Very very boring.
What's worse, even the very best trainers can't replicate the feeling of the road underneath you, the feeling of generating power to go FORWARD in the world, to go FAST, or to at least GO. On the trainer, you pedal in circles and go noplace fast. A lower end magnetic trainer is like pedaling through mud, the very best fluid trainer barely grudges past feeling like wet sand. Some of them let you rock your bike back and forth (yippee), others set up computer screens with "simulated" hills, descents, and group rides (please, give me another simulated hill, that sounds like exactly what's been missing from my life). The alternative, rollers, give a much more realistic feel, but also force you to pay strict attention every second, lest your mind wanders and you find yourself suddenly rolling off the rollers and into (or through) your living room wall.
Yes, in the wintertime, we cyclists retreat to our personal torture chambers and make as much peace as we can with our trainers, maintaining base miles and sometimes, as in my case, actually trying to improve fitness as we go.
"But surely you're not made of salt or sugar, dear writer. Why don't you just go out and ride in the cold/rain/dark/snow if trainers are so horrible?"
Well, it's true that when I ran, I would brave just about any weather condition before being forced onto the treadmill. One only has to read my post about runners being gross to know that I am not one to shy away from rain or cold weather. But running isn't like cycling. In cycling, you have to remember that when it rains, your traction suffers. When it's dark, cars can't see you. When it snows, salt and other road crud makes things slick and mucks up your bike. Plus, with cold winds and 16-18mph speeds, well.....let's just say the term "frozen boogers" takes on a whole new meaning. In short, I can handle the elements; my bike or my safety may not be so adept.
Today was my litmus test on the trainer, so to speak, in that it was my hardest workout to date: 5 ten minute AT intervals with 10 minutes of rest inbetween. And the thunderstorm shaking my window when I awoke at 6am meant one thing: I would have to do it entirely on a trainer.
Fortunately, the bike shop where I work has a fantastic trainer set up in the fit area that's much better than the one I use for base/endurance miles at home. It's still a trainer, but the fluid resistance stays smoother once your cadence is established. Armed with water bottles, a towel (there's no wind to instantly dry off the sweat), and my iPod, I climbed aboard and got to work.
The result? I did it. I did the entire workout, exactly as it should have been, on the trainer. And know what? It wasn't that bad. Honestly. I mean, it was 2 hours on the trainer, so it wasn't amazing. But being on the trainer and not on the road let me completely focus on the act of pedaling in circles. On the one hand, its boring On the other hand, it's the very zen core of cycling. It's the foundation without any of the distraction. It's just you and the bike and the motion of moving your legs. Once I revved up to the correct heart rate, I closed my eyes, hunkered down, and PEDALED, only taking passing glances at my heart rate, which stayed just as consistent as during my road rides. As I finished my fifth interval and popped open my Cheerwine, I felt a little like I was coming out of a meditative state, which is something I've never experienced on the road, or on the treadmill, or on the elliptical. Maybe I'm still riding on a road, only this time, it's a metaphysical one.
The great outdoors is the church of cycling, but maybe the trainer is the buddhist temple.
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