The joy of winter training

Say the words “winter training” in a room full of cyclists and you will see a range of reactions. A few will smile, some will cock their heads quizzically, but most will assume a gloomy countenance, their spirits deflated by the inevitability of the Canadian winter. Some may even start to cry.

To these pessimistic souls, the winter months are the antithesis of everything they love about cycling – long hours spent outside in beautiful weather, the opportunity to further sharpen their cycling tan lines, and the post-ride beer or coffee on a patio, where they recount the highlights of the ride, one pedal stroke at a time. In winter, all these joys are obscured, covered up by slush and snow. But the pessimists have it all wrong. Winter riding can be every bit as enjoyable as riding in the height of summer. We simply need to remind ourselves of how cyclists define the word “enjoyable.”

To most people, “enjoyable” suggests something that gives them pleasure, makes them smile, and leaves them energized and feeling positive. But not for cyclists. I’m not saying that cycling does not give us pleasure. Of course it does. But it’s a strange, masochistic type of pleasure that can only be appreciated long after the ride is over.

I ask you: when was the last time you felt like smiling on a hard ride? For my part, I spend most of my rides grimacing and hanging on for dear life as I wait for my heart to fly out of my mouth and go hopping across the road until it lands in a ditch and explodes like a cardiac hand grenade.

And after the ride is over, do you feel energized? I don’t. I can barely climb the stairs in my house. It’s getting so bad that I’m considering installing a chairlift. Even getting undressed to shower requires a colossal effort. If I lived in a better neighbourhood and wasn’t concerned about my personal safety, I would probably just lie down on the sidewalk and go to sleep.

As for feeling positive, well, I feel quite positive that I don’t want to do anything for the rest of the day. No walks in the park with my wife and children. No chores around the house. In fact, I’m positive I don’t want to do anything that involves standing up.

But let us return to winter riding. All of these familiar summer feelings can be achieved in the winter – in fact, to an even greater degree. Alongside the usual suffering, there are additional elements to winter riding that only make it more enjoyable.

First, there is the darkness. If your schedule is like mine and dictates that you ride early in the day, you will need to start your ride when it’s dark out. This can be thrilling. When you can’t see properly, potholes, dusky-coloured rodents, patches of black ice and other hazards become at once invisible and much more dangerous. As my age advances and my eyesight fades, I find myself bunnyhopping shadows more often than I care to admit.

Then there is the cold. There is a saying that there is no bad weather, just inappropriate clothing. This is not true. There is indeed bad weather, and no right-minded Canadian would argue otherwise. But there is also inappropriate clothing for any situation, or so I was told when I showed up for the church bake sale dressed as Didi Senft, the Tour de France devil.

Even if you are wearing the right clothing for the conditions, there are parts of the body that one simply cannot keep sufficiently warm. These are known as the extremities, because they are extremely hard to insulate effectively. For example, no matter how many pairs of overshoes you layer on your feet, your toes will still freeze when it’s -10 C. Let’s not discuss what happens if you forget to layer your underpants.

All of these things combine to create a new level of suffering, or rather enjoyment, for the winter cyclist. But the greatest enjoyment can only be experienced when the weather turns truly foul. Yes, I am referring to that most dreaded of winter training sessions: the indoor ride. In my house, it takes place in the basement, and whatever training device I use, it is a mind-numbing experience. To keep it interesting, I prefer to ride on rollers rather than a stationary trainer. Unless you’re drunk, it’s nearly impossible to fall off a trainer. Not so with rollers. A brief moment of inattention can lead to disaster.

I up the ante by placing the rollers next to my workbench. I make sure to keep an assortment of sharp hand tools about the bench surface. One false move and I will topple sideways, most likely landing face first onto my collection of drill bits and augers, which I store pointy side up in a purpose-built block of oak.

So don’t listen to the naysayers. Winter is a great season for cycling, indoors and out. It’s just a matter of adjusting one’s expectations and finding new ways to stay inspired. Now where did I put those drill bits?