Maybe it is all psychological

 

I'm of the opinion that head wind out, tail wind back is not a good deal. Somehow you really feel the head wind the first half of the ride and you don't feel it at all on the way back. I’m guessing it is just psychological, that the wind is there helping you. It doesn’t matter, if you don’t feel being helped it is not worth all the effort of fighting against the wind during the first half of the ride. Not a good deal.

I think I shouldn’t have had coffee before the ride. My excuse is that after a week of not riding much and the feeling I had after yesterday’s session at the turbo (https://www.strava.com/activities/10157941895) that my form is disappearing quickly I was scared of today’s ride. So I had a coffee before the ride. Having a coffee before a ride makes me feel optimistic and strong. My guess is those effects are mostly psychological, on the other hand, the physiological effect of having to stop to pee a bit too often is very real. Having The Pope joking about it is also a very real effect. Having a coffee before the ride is not a good deal for me.

After the Brace of Bramleys’ disaster (https://www.strava.com/activities/10044054770), where I lost every.single.sprint. One of my objectives with today’s ride was to recover my self confidence as a sprinter. What better way of counting all the sprints you take during the ride. It certainly helps keeping the count in your mind and not mentioning out loud so your riding mates don’t challenge your objective. It is also convenient to ride with a GC rider and a climber in a short and flat route. It is true that no one contested any of the sprints I won so you could argue those wins don’t really count. It doesn’t matter. After three weeks of disgrace I feel much better now. Relieved. Maybe it is all physiological but my reputation is now restored.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/10165110786/

Take care

Javier Arias González

One of those days

 Today was one of those days.

Everything was meant to be perfect. 

Nice weather. Chill but not too cold and mostly sunny.

A big group (10)  to have plenty of opportunities to sit up. X

Legs feeling fresh after a good night's sleep. X

Morale high after a strong coffee in the morning.

A flat route to show off your sprinting skills. X

And today, the day you were feeling fresh on a flat route and able to sit on the wheels of a  big group while the caffeine was convincing you are the best sprinter in the world…

Today was one of those days when your di2 runs out of battery. 

AGAAAAAIN. 

From km46!!!!!

As I’m running out of new ways to embarrass myself I’m starting to repeat the ways I embarrassed myself in the past.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/9904689607/

Take care of yourself

Javier

The resurrection of the greatest Road Captain

Paula Lively from Zanesville, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

For a few weeks, or even months, my skills as Road Captain have been questioned among “the cynics” and “the sceptics”.

Some mentioned the lack of popularity of my rides. Others questioned my navigation skills. A few argued, with little foundation, that I didn’t work for long enough at the front.

Well, “I feel sorry for you. I’m sorry you can’t dream big and I’m sorry you don’t believe in miracles”.

Today’s ride was the resurrection of the greatest Road Captain. (This is the “dream big” bit)

I’ll start by mentioning that six signed up for the ride. Including me, that's seven out of the ten slots taken. Isn’t that popular?

True that one rider removed himself the day before the ride, Rupert decided to ride the route in reverse and we never saw him. We also lost Phil in the first few kilometers which is less than ideal. But it is also true that we took two guests to Widnsor, proof of Road Captain friendliness, and four riders finishing the ride is an early sign of Road Captain popularity.

This positive sign came accompanied with the greatness of the route selected. 

In fact this route is now my new favorite for a flat ride. 579m of elevation in 129km. 4.49 meters per kilometer. A flatness that only Saturday Gang’s ambassador in Florida can match.

The route took a few unconventional turns and that created confusion in the group but the Road Captain (me) was not confused in any of those turns. I got them all right. Thanks to Garmin obviously.

I still have to confess I got confused with the route as soon as we got to the top of the “climb” before Henley.

I moved to the front with the idea of leading the descent. In my mind there were only a couple of kilometers to Henley so I set a fairly strong pace at the front to make sure no one passed me and I could take the town sign sprint without sprinting.

The problem was Henley was something like 10 kilometers away. I didn’t know and I kept working at the front expecting the town sign to appear any minute. 

Inevitably at some point I started to slow down and my riding colleagues moved to the front and Vicenzo took the town sign sprint without opposition. 

Coffee stop catered to the preferences of the riders was a sign of logistics quality.

We also had “nice” weather. 12°C, some rays of sun, completely dry. (That's the “believe in miracles” bit when you have in mind that we are in February and in the UK)

To round what was already a perfect ride I took the final sprint. 

Not that the other riders knew where the line was but it was a clear and fair win. 

With such a great way of finishing the ride it is easy to see how justified it is to add the “greatest” to my Road Captain skills (that’s the “dream big” bit).

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/8587123686/

Take care

Javier Arias González

"Proper, steady K2 ride to Henley"

Well, this was my (rather short) career as road captain finished.

For some time I have been in the search of what type of cyclist I am. Now that it is clear that I’m not a sprinter (a climber was always out of the question). 

Last few months I was convinced that I was a Road Captain. Even if some of my “riding mates” (I won’t name and shame, you know who you are) were very fast highlighting the many reasons why I was not a good Road Captain. What do they know?!? 

That was until today. I’m not in search of a cycling personality. Road Captain is out of the question. Let me give you the details.

I posted in the Kingston Wheelers forum a club ride for today. 128km, 837m of climbing. Short and flat (https://www.unbiciorejon.com/2019/02/javiers-ride-classification-criteria.html). “Proper, steady K2 ride to Henley”. That’s how it started.

How did it go? Look, even before we started to ride it was decided we were not stopping at Henley. We were going to stop at Twyford instead. That was my leadership destroyed before the first pedal stroke. 

I still felt optimistic. 8 riders showed up. That is way more popular than when any of my “riding mates” propose club rides. A clear endorsement to my Road Captain skills.

I even surprised everyone with a first long turn at the front. Long enough to be worthy of outloud praise by one of my “riding mates”. To be fair it was probably the longest turn I have done in my whole cycling career.

But that was it. As soon as I moved from the front the “Proper, steady K2” description of the pace failed to be accurate. And that is a very polite way of putting it. 

I don’t take any responsibility though. It was clearly not my fault. It was everyone else’s fault. They were all very strong riders. You see that collection of PRs? You can be sure it was my merit.

My leadership was clearly questioned but I still found comfort in the fact that I was mastering the navigation asped of the road captainship. I even suggested a detour to avoid a big queue of cars. Not everything was lost.

A shame that a few kilometers later, at Walton-on Thames, I saw the group turning left when the route was going straight. I shouted and shouted but no one listened, or cared. It turns out that was another detour to avoid a couple of traffic lights. 

By then even the most optimistic Javier was convinced that the Road Captain career had come to an end. Time to improvise. Quickly.

So I fell back to being a sprinter. It was genius. The final sprint was approaching. It is a sprint where almost no one knows where the line is. I avoided the front like the plague and got ready to celebrate my comeback as a sprinter.

The problem was that Ed, a pure climber, and Rupert, a very dangerous competitor, got away and managed to get a decent gap. A big and scary gap. 

The group caught Rupert (some excuses about cramping were heard) but Ed, a pure climber, ended up taking the final sprint. 

It was clearly not my fault. It was everyone else’s fault. Ed and Rupert’s attack was a bit cheeky, the rest of the group was stuck in traffic. Dani did a monster turn at the front but didn’t manage to close the gap to Ed, even if he was riding super strong all day, a clear example of energy misuse. The rest of the group didn’t contribute to the chase, had they contributed we would have caught him before we got stopped by a red traffic light. 

I repeat. Ed, a pure climber, ended up taking the final sprint.

Not a road captain. Losing a sprint to Ed. Time to retire from cycling. 

Looking at how well I took responsibility for what happened during the ride I decided I have a better future as a politician.

Vote for me. You’ll be disappointed.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/7790384597

Take care

Javier Arias González 

A "Historic" win

I knew I was tired even before I got to Surbiton. It wasn't a surprise. Last few days I have been riding more than any other time this year. Nothing massive, especially compared to previous years, but still the hardest and longest I have ridden this year.

Being tired means the beginning of the ride is challenging. My brain wanting to go faster, my body pushing me to go slower, to take it easier. Not that my brain triumphs my body that often but today we had head wind all the way out. No chance for my brain. A bit slower it was. Henley couldn’t arrive soon enough.

A coffee (I’d confess it was another latte but that would be risking Paolo’s friendship. I could even be banned to enter Italy ever again) and sitting outside helped to recover. It was cold. The wind was very cold. But we sat in the sun. That was nice.

The return leg felt easier. It turns out that a bit of caffeine and a tail wind help to change your perception of effort. A lot!

In a stroke of genius I attacked no one taking advantage of the slipstream of a passing rider. Proper racing craft that. 7 km to get to the sprint at Hampton. Looked back and the gap was decent, in my head anyway, so set myself in a pace that felt sustainable and hopped for the best. Passed a few riders and that helped my morale, kept the pace. I was having problems to decide if this was more similar to a win at Flanders or at Paris Roubaix, a big memorable win in any case. Passed two female riders just before the sprint. I took it. Of course. Didn’t celebrate though. Not because I was afraid of losing the sprint, no one was contesting it, but because I was too embarrassed and afraid of what they would think of me. 

A decent ride at the end of the day. Strava says, “Historic Relative Effort”. It seems to me Strava has a low threshold for the “Historic” mark. After all this was a short and pan flat ride. 

Maybe Strava is referring to my “win”. Actually, I’d agree it was “Historic”.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/4512283971

Take care

Javier Arias González