<- Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 ->
I was never averse to suffering while training; I learned early on that its an integral part of preparing for a physical performance. It is a bit Nietzche-esque, but its an inescapable truth - you have to break it all down to build it all up.
Some people live for the endorphin rush they get when they've pushed it to their limits. Some people just plain enjoy the pain. I fall somewhere in the middle; the endorphins are nice, but they don't always show up. And I enjoy knowing I'm getting stronger when I'm suffering, but too much suffering, for me, quite plainly sucks. One thing I do enjoy is climbing hills, but unfortunately there aren't a whole lot of big hills close to Roseville. So I had to find other ways to suffer.
I started my CTS program in October with Adam Mills, a CTS expert coach and a student at the University of Kansas. The first thing Adam told me was that, beginning that month, my workouts were about to become a whole lot easier. Wait a minute! What about the suffering? What about the pain? Adam assured me "Don't worry, you'll get plenty of that later. For now, we need to pull you back and work on your long-term aerobic fitness".
The first step was to assess my overall cycling fitness. The way CTS does this is to have you do a field test/ time trail - 3 miles on a fairly flat course as fast as you can, twice, with a 10-minute recovery period between efforts. As this is is a maximal effort, there is maximal suffering associated with it. In fact, in later field tests I was more fatigued than after I had ridden a century. Anyway, you record heart rate data along with cycling data - speed, cadence, distance, time - and power data, if you have a power meter. Based on your performance, your coach will fashion a workout regimen to get you to whatever goal you are looking to achieve. In October, my goals were to lose additional weight, be able to puch bigger gears on the flats and the ability to climb hills comfortably. Not huge goals, but important ones and definitely acheiveable.
Adam was right, my first month of workouts were fairly easy. He set my aerobic threshold at 144 beats per minute and I actually had a hard time staying under my ceiling. My workouts were now based on time, rather than mileage and the workout durations were no longer than an hour to an hour and a half. Sometimes I would uncork and do 3 miles flat-out to get the kinks out of my joints, but most of the time I abided by the schedule.
The fall remained uneventful from a cycling standpoint; I stayed true to my workout schedule and supplemented it with yoga and pilates. What turned out to be eventful was the rest of our lives - we decided to move to Portland in October after falling in love with the city over a business trip. The fall was spent looking for homes and preparing our Roseville house to sell. Aside from Monique, cycling was the only thing that kept me sane. It went from being a fitness kick to being psychologically and emotionally therapeutic. I never felt more of a need to get out on my bike than those months, to help me glide the stress. I would go out rain or shine and I think it really toughened me up. I learned over the years that stress and suffering doesn't always have to be physical. Once again my trusty steed was there to get me through.
<- Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 ->
Author's Note: I wrote this article in the Fall of 2004 and since
then I have received great feedback and a request to make it more
available. Since then, I've lapsed into some old (bad) habits but I'm
on my way back. A new "Re-Reinventing the Cyclist" is in the works. For
now, I hope you can find some nugget of usefulness from this archive. -
Carlo