(Pictured: the author, actually competing)
I’ve got an issue: I really like to be competitive but the mileage that I can put in is, honestly, pretty low compared to other people. This is by necessity as I have other obligations that shrink the amount of open time I have for riding my bikes around.
That would be a problem if I was interested in measuring myself against them. Luckily, I’m generally not.
I do enjoy racing when I get the opportunity, but at the moment I primarily enjoy tracking my progress on private segments that I’ve set up for myself. This is because, more than anything, I enjoy the feeling of getting faster and having some solid metrics that convince me that I am indeed faster than I was.
Also, I happen to like numbers that are bigger than other numbers (sometimes… There are exceptions!), so it’s endlessly entertaining to push my grand total mileage higher than before.
I’ve termed this attitude “Casually Competitive.” I am interested in trying my hardest on my rides in a sort of perpetual, private race. Of course I’m not testing myself every day to go as fast as I can, but you get the idea – over time I want to trend hard towards improved performance.
Okay. But, why?
This is my method for giving meaning to sport for sport’s sake. It’s important to give that some meaning because there are faster and cheaper ways of deriving the health benefits one gets from cycling. Plus, pushing yourself on a bike is hard. It helps to have measurable progression behind all that effort so that the effort stays interesting.
This doesn’t necessarily have to be all about speed. The spirit of challenge is more important than the details of the metrics. For example: is it absurdly windy and yet you managed to grind out miles as though you begrudge the very existence of wind resistance? Were you tired beyond belief but convinced yourself to get on the bike and do miles anyway? That is to say: if you hunt for a challenge anywhere, you’ll undoubtedly find it. Keeping this casually competitive mindset is a huge factor in keeping my motivation high even though sometimes my mileage is low, so that I continue to make progress.
Keeping with this idea, the most intense riding event I’ve encountered didn’t take place during a race. I was out for a chill ride during a previous summer, and unbeknownst to me a reasonably strong thunderstorm was brewing to the west of where I was. I rounded a corner and began to head west, the direction of my destination and I couldn’t help but notice a degrading weather situation – storm clouds aren’t subtle. Suddenly, this became a time trial with very real consequences for failing to make a goal time. A strong wind preceded the storm and I distinctly remember fighting for every ounce of speed I could, because the best possible failure state was getting drenched and, beyond that, the danger had the potential to sharply increase.
In retrospect, that event helped me understand just what kind of mental rewards could be found when trying to work harder and be faster. It did help that I didn’t have much of a choice, given that cruising around in a thunderstorm isn’t a great idea from numerous perspectives.
Background
This article came about as I was discussing riding and bikes with a friend of mine. He kept describing a ride in terms of the casual fun it provided and, as the conversation went on, I was surprised to discover that what he was describing was failing to find any traction in my mind, at all.
It occurred to me that he and I have very different ideas about what makes a bike ride fun. Generally, I am much more interested in stuff that skews competitive. This conversation was important to have because it was helpful in defining the space that cycling should occupy in my life. It’s a little strange to phrase it that way because you’d think it should be patently obvious. However, it’s helpful to examine one’s involvement in something from time to time to see what one might be getting out of that something.
In my case, I realized that I was attempting to operate much more casually than I was comfortable with. This came at the right time, in that I had just begun to think about the concept outlined in “Fewer Bikes, More Miles” and was becoming interested in shrinking the amount of bikes I had on hand, and more sharply focusing them on the kind of riding I was actually doing.
What Next?
I believe that a cyclist could operate under this casually competitive mindset indefinitely and find it rewarding. As long as you’re competing with yourself, you’ll always have clear goals and a way to fit cycling into your life. Again, it’s important to have this stuff firmly in mind because cycling can be expensive and time consuming. It’s definitely worth determining what reward you get from it.
I also believe that someone could use this as a starting point to explore, perhaps, removing the “casually” and becoming simply “competitive.” I will readily admit that the experience of riding in a race situation is dramatically different from what you might be doing on your own.
No matter what direction you choose, you’re still on a bike, and if you’re reading this I suspect we agree that’s the thing that matters most. Have fun defining your life’s cycling space!
Gradually Faster 