I firmly believe training for the Ironman, like training for so many difficult challenges, is just as much about preparing the mind as it is about preparing the body. I've ridden many long rides over the years. I can go on and on for endless hours down lonely roads and never feel bored, or regretful, or even unwelcomingly lonely for that matter. Perch me upon my bike set upon my indoor trainer and suddenly I find myself facing a whole new challenge. There is no hill climbing indoors. That might seem like not such a bad thing to some of you, but I have always welcomed the challenge of the heavenward ascent. I also happen to be built like a mountain goat and the hills are my greatest strength out on the road. So I certainly miss that while riding indoors. But without hills, or stop signs, traffic lights or intersections for that matter, I spend the entirety of the ride seated. I may sing the praises of a particular bicycle saddle's comfort when riding outdoors, but plop my on my bike for a three hour training ride indoors and I may as well be sitting on a 2x4. There is also no coasting indoors. So every workout is a constant grind. I recently read an article which suggested that, on account on this latter truth, a cyclist riding indoors can cut a workout down by 20% and derive the same benefit he would on a longer ride outside.
But for me, what is most difficult is the absence of distraction. Riding outside I get lost in the world around me. I stay alert to passing traffic. I see, I feel, I smell the seasons. I hear the birds. I dance with the wind. I push myself and I hurt outdoors, but I just don't notice it quite as much as I do indoors. I have my bike set up in front of a television and I watch mostly the worst of pop culture. Strangely, I find it hard to focus on any movie or television show flashing before me. But the images do provide a distraction. Given that, when I teach my indoor cycling classes at Cycledelic, I often try to give students something to look at, be it a visual profile of the workout, or some sort of film that offers fantastic images of, well, whatever.
As I'm working to develop an enormous endurance capacity capable of bringing me to the finishline in Madison, many of my miles this time of year are ridden at a relatively modest effort and Coach Dan always demands that I keep my heartrate within a specific range, cautioning me not to allow my heart to rise above a certain BPM, lest I overdo it and hinder my recovery. Today, however, Coach Dan's prescribed a 90 minute workout including 50 minutes at a specific and difficult range of effort with no HR cap. In other words, even if my heartrate peaked above the designated limit, I was to keep at it. Without asking, I assumed the change in the schedule was a means of compensating for having taken a 2 week break from the bike when I was travelling in Israel. It's pretty amazing to think that just two weeks off the bike can have a recognizable impact on fitness and my heartrate most certaintly rose above the usual limit.
50 minutes is a long time when you're suffering. I was pedaling hard. I was sweating like a pig. My legs and lungs were burning. And still, I was going nowhere, fast. And that may be why I found it so difficult. When we work hard at whatever we do, we hope to see some measurable success, some indication that we have accomplished something, that we have gone somewhere. I guess then, maybe today's proof was the enormous appetite I worked up after losing 3 lbs. in sweat.
The gift: license to eat whatever the hell I wanted today.
The ultimate payback: I am now 4 lbs. heavier than I was after my workout.
I guess it's back to work tomorrow!
No comments:
Post a Comment