I would apologize for this one, but I'm really not sorry. See, as somebody who has two cats, and has had dogs in the past, I can say confidently that pets are a pain in the ass. I have way less trouble with my bikes than I do with my cats. And cats are supposed to be independent creatures! Now, I'm not saying you should get rid of any animals you have. Just that, in the future, you should look into buying a bike instead of some kind of critter. So, without further ado, here are my reasons why bikes make the best pets, and regular pets are a PITA.
1) Pets will get into things/places that they shouldn't. Like I said, I have a pair of cats, and when they get a wild hair up their asses (which is often, seeing as how they have fur and all), they love jumping up on the counters and table. Except that, you know, that's not cool with me. My bike, though, never goes where it shouldn't. I put it somewhere and come back to it an hour later, it's still friggin there! Unless it decides to fall on the ground. Then, you know, it's on the ground. But still basically where I put it, just not where I want it to be.
2) Pets have to go to the vet. Vet bills. Ugh. I mean, I get why you take your little fuzzball to the vet. But keeping up to date with shots, and paying for a microchip, and then taking them in for check-ups. It all adds up! Don't get me started on when your little furry bundle of joy decides to go and get injured. Then it's crazy pricey! My bike, though? All I have to do is take it in for regular maintenance, replace a few parts here and there, and I'm good! Unless I crash. Then I take it in to make sure nothing is broken or anything.
3) Your bike never gets underfoot. Know what one of the biggest hazards in my house is? Standing up and friggin' walking somewhere. Doesn't matter if I walk from one end of the apartment to the other, or if I walk 10 feet. Know why? Because my cats are gonna try to trip me. Why they do this, I have no idea. Maybe they're plotting my death, and I've just been lucky to survive thus far. My bike, though, just sits under my legs, and doesn't try any of that shit. It just follows where I go. Even if I clip a pedal on something, and I start to crash out, I know that my bike is right underneath me!
4) Pets need food, and attention, and if you're really unlucky, regular baths. My bike, though? Chain lube, oil, and a cleaning from time to time. Big bang boom!
5) Your bike will never leave you. Unless you gave it away or sold it, of course. Pets are douches, and might just walk away from you, even if you call them. Your bike would never ignore you like that.
6) Pets get fur everywhere. Assuming you don't ride in the rain or snow, a bike will only get dirt and grease places. But that's not that hard to clean up, right?! And assuming you do ride in the rain, then all you need to do is clean up the water. Ain't no thang.
7) Pets take up tons of time and attention. My bikes? They only time they take up is when I'm actually riding them. Same goes for the attention! Unless I'm thinking about them, which I do all the time.
8) Pets always want attention, and unconditional love, and for you to spend time with them. Bikes, though, if they could take, just want you to ridden them all the time.
9) Pets typically make noise any time they want something. Whether it be food, water, attention, or to be played with, until they get what they need, all they ever do is make noise! But my bike only makes noise whenever it needs maintenance. Totally different!
These are just a few reasons why I think bikes are way better than pets. I'm not gonna get rid of my cats any time soon, but I always know what'll love me unconditionally: my bike!
What do you guys think? Are there any reasons I missed about why a bike is better than having a pet? Let me know in the comments! And till the next one, keep the rubber side down, and your skin off the ground.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
You either like the headwind, or you're wrong
Before I jump into it, I'm gonna preface it with this: this mostly applies to people that do road races, time trials, or the hero on the Saturday/Sunday group pace line. But I do think that there's a bit of info here that everyone can learn from. I'm also going to group crosswinds in the same category as headwinds, because they share many similar qualities. K. Ready?
If you don't like the headwind, then it's about time you get onboard with it, because that shit ain't going anywhere, besides into your face. It's mother-friggin nature. You aren't gonna beat that.
The other day I was out at Fiesta Island, and it had been particularly windy most of the day. As such, a bunch of my riding buddies were texting back and forth, humming and hawing about what the wind would be like on our workout at the island that night. The general consensus? Utter fear.
In my mind, Fiesta Island is perfect. The big lap is a 4 mile circular loop that starts off with a crosswind. This transforms rather quickly into a short headwind, then a looooong crosswind, followed by a banking lefthand turn that gives you a tailwind. Just when you think you're about to recover, you sweep left and BOOM! Back into headwind before it tosses you into a crosswind, and then you're right where you left off. Sound grueling? That's because it is, and that's how it should be.
It teaches you how to be a hardman (or hardwoman), mentally and physically. Seriously. In other words, it's a free training tool.
I specifically choose a ride which involves a long, soul crushing headwind a couple times a week. I do this just so I get more experience and so I get better at breaking people with it. Think about it for a minute. Assuming you've got any decent wind in your area, just think of the number of directions it can come from. Now think of all those different directions that aren't a tailwind, and try not to swallow in shock, mkay?
I can't tell you how many times my ability to ride into a headwind has paid off, and I've broken lesser riders. More often than not, they look up and see me at the front, practically unaffected as I drill a pace, my pull longer and faster than those that came before me. They see my legs continuing to not mash the pedals, but merely spin, and they tremble. It's at this point that they look down and realize that we've picked up a couple miles an hour. Their heart rate begins to climb, as does their power, and they stare, unabashed as I continue pulling, unwilling to let anyone else come to the front. At this point, they begin to doubt themselves. They doubt their abilities. Their very souls cry out in pain and in disgrace. Now, one of two things happens. Either they break mentally, or I continue pulling and break their legs off. Either way, their time in the group is done.
All because I ride into the wind.
If you don't believe that knowing how to be a hardman in the wind is important, I encourage you to watch my main man Jens Voigt crack the peloton in half at stage 5 of the 2013 Tour of California. How did he do it? He went to the front of the pack during a gnarly crosswind and did what Jens Voigt does best: made lesser men cry by putting down the hammer.
The thing is, anyone can ride fast with a tailwind. It's easy to push 25, 28, or even 30 miles an hour with a strong enough tailwind. But turn around and try riding 20 miles an hour into that same wind, and tell me how you do. It's a whole different beast, and it's what separates the men from the boys. The wheat from the chaff. The awesome post race IPA from fizzy yellow beer. Ya see where I'm going with this? A headwind is resistance training that you don't pay for.
Anyone can go for a ride with a tailwind, focus on their miles per hour, and think that you're one bad mamba jamba. But turn around into that headwind, and all of a sudden it's a different story. You look at your speed, and feel an overwhelming sadness come over you. Don't let it. Remember, everyone is encountering the same wind that you are.
If you have a power meter, instead focus on that. That's where the money lies. Power can tell you exponentially more than speed can, simply because power is actually representative of how much...wait for it....power you're putting out. Isn't that a wonder? Speed, in this situation, is irrelevant. Power is everything. Shift up a couple gears if you have to, but always try to put out a consistent amount of power.
Remember two things when riding into a headwind. 1) those guys sucking your wheel are hurting more than you are, and 2) this headwind isn't going to let up, so you may as well embrace it for what it is: a challenge. And eventually, isn't that what cycling is all about? Pushing past your boundaries to become a better cyclist? To get harder, better, faster, stronger? And to hopefully one day be that rider at the front who knows that, on a whim, they can break the legs off of the lesser cyclists behind them?
Get out there. Ride into a headwind. Learn to crush souls, and break legs off. Also, because if you time it right, the way back home is a tailwind, so you can relax and enjoy yourself.
Till the next one, keep the rubber side down, and your skin off the ground!
If you don't like the headwind, then it's about time you get onboard with it, because that shit ain't going anywhere, besides into your face. It's mother-friggin nature. You aren't gonna beat that.
The other day I was out at Fiesta Island, and it had been particularly windy most of the day. As such, a bunch of my riding buddies were texting back and forth, humming and hawing about what the wind would be like on our workout at the island that night. The general consensus? Utter fear.
 |
| A casualty of the winds that day |
In my mind, Fiesta Island is perfect. The big lap is a 4 mile circular loop that starts off with a crosswind. This transforms rather quickly into a short headwind, then a looooong crosswind, followed by a banking lefthand turn that gives you a tailwind. Just when you think you're about to recover, you sweep left and BOOM! Back into headwind before it tosses you into a crosswind, and then you're right where you left off. Sound grueling? That's because it is, and that's how it should be.
It teaches you how to be a hardman (or hardwoman), mentally and physically. Seriously. In other words, it's a free training tool.
I specifically choose a ride which involves a long, soul crushing headwind a couple times a week. I do this just so I get more experience and so I get better at breaking people with it. Think about it for a minute. Assuming you've got any decent wind in your area, just think of the number of directions it can come from. Now think of all those different directions that aren't a tailwind, and try not to swallow in shock, mkay?
I can't tell you how many times my ability to ride into a headwind has paid off, and I've broken lesser riders. More often than not, they look up and see me at the front, practically unaffected as I drill a pace, my pull longer and faster than those that came before me. They see my legs continuing to not mash the pedals, but merely spin, and they tremble. It's at this point that they look down and realize that we've picked up a couple miles an hour. Their heart rate begins to climb, as does their power, and they stare, unabashed as I continue pulling, unwilling to let anyone else come to the front. At this point, they begin to doubt themselves. They doubt their abilities. Their very souls cry out in pain and in disgrace. Now, one of two things happens. Either they break mentally, or I continue pulling and break their legs off. Either way, their time in the group is done.
All because I ride into the wind.
If you don't believe that knowing how to be a hardman in the wind is important, I encourage you to watch my main man Jens Voigt crack the peloton in half at stage 5 of the 2013 Tour of California. How did he do it? He went to the front of the pack during a gnarly crosswind and did what Jens Voigt does best: made lesser men cry by putting down the hammer.
The thing is, anyone can ride fast with a tailwind. It's easy to push 25, 28, or even 30 miles an hour with a strong enough tailwind. But turn around and try riding 20 miles an hour into that same wind, and tell me how you do. It's a whole different beast, and it's what separates the men from the boys. The wheat from the chaff. The awesome post race IPA from fizzy yellow beer. Ya see where I'm going with this? A headwind is resistance training that you don't pay for.
Anyone can go for a ride with a tailwind, focus on their miles per hour, and think that you're one bad mamba jamba. But turn around into that headwind, and all of a sudden it's a different story. You look at your speed, and feel an overwhelming sadness come over you. Don't let it. Remember, everyone is encountering the same wind that you are.
If you have a power meter, instead focus on that. That's where the money lies. Power can tell you exponentially more than speed can, simply because power is actually representative of how much...wait for it....power you're putting out. Isn't that a wonder? Speed, in this situation, is irrelevant. Power is everything. Shift up a couple gears if you have to, but always try to put out a consistent amount of power.
Remember two things when riding into a headwind. 1) those guys sucking your wheel are hurting more than you are, and 2) this headwind isn't going to let up, so you may as well embrace it for what it is: a challenge. And eventually, isn't that what cycling is all about? Pushing past your boundaries to become a better cyclist? To get harder, better, faster, stronger? And to hopefully one day be that rider at the front who knows that, on a whim, they can break the legs off of the lesser cyclists behind them?
Get out there. Ride into a headwind. Learn to crush souls, and break legs off. Also, because if you time it right, the way back home is a tailwind, so you can relax and enjoy yourself.
Till the next one, keep the rubber side down, and your skin off the ground!
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