Workouts as Waypoints

I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess that most of us started riding as a kid.  Hop on the bike and ride to a buddy’s house, spin down to the corner store for a snack, maybe cruise some overgrown trails in a local park.

At some point, the bike became more than just a tool to get from point A to point B, and it’s now an integral part of your life and identity.

A cyclist’s evolution is spurred on by achievements — riding farther and faster than before, conquering steep climbs, breezing through workouts that used to level you. There's a cellular-level satisfaction earned through this process, and it keeps pulling us back to this sport.

You want to beat your buddy in the town-line sprint, so you start crushing sprint workouts. You sign up for a gravel ride with a nasty climb at the end, so you start grinding hill repeats. Tools like a power meter and a heart rate monitor give you objective targets to chase and data to pore over in search of clues. 

Progress comes fast at first. The sprints get sharper. The repeats get easier. You're closing the gap.

But your buddy's still beating you to that town line. And you had to walk the steep part of that gravel climb.

Frustration moves in. The excitement fades a little. The bike feels less fun than it did a couple weeks ago.

Here's the thing: those sprints, those hill repeats, that failed workout — they're waypoints. Markers. Dots on a much larger map. Your best workout and your worst workout have that in common — they are a record of one single ride along your whole journey. They show where you've come from, tell you where you are now, and provide direction for your next step forward.

The data will always demand your immediate attention, and measuring performance helps ensure your training is on track.  But every now and then, zoom out. Take a look at the road behind you, and appreciate the journey the bike has taken you on so far.

See you next week,

Steve