Thoughts from the Turbo

With the winter weather appearing to have decided to actually be proper winter weather again this year my turbo has once again taken a battering and looks like it will continue to do so over the foreseeable future, which leads me to the question, what goes through your mind as you while away the hours on your turbo? (or as my eloquent coach likes to call it “the turdo”)

The irony of it is that the majority of racing cyclists probably spend more time riding the bike in the winter in preparation for the summer and therefore the hours spent sitting going nowhere give your mind time to wander to some incredibly strange places.

Firstly there is the immediate surroundings, for me that means the initial battle with the boss for the right to claim the kitchen for a couple of hours, this delicate negotiation requires a certain strategy, I usually get two options pre or post evening meal dependant a number of factors, these being whether the kids have friends round, I get home from work on time, what the boss is cooking and how long the planned session is supposed to take. Once this calculation has been made out comes the mat to collect the sweat, the obligatory fan to minimise the sweat, the turbo to create the sweat, bottles to replenish the sweat and the portable DVD player to try and take my mind off the sweat.

All set up, but know the difficult decision. Which one of the DVD’s will I choose to watch, again. I have several options here there are the recordings of the 2008 or 2009 Tour, which if I ever get onto Mastermind would be my specialist subject. However the orchestrated daily escape, chase down by Columbia HTC, Cavandish sprint win can become slightly tedious after the fifth or sixth watch. Alternatively there are the “giveaway” DVD’s from various cycling magazines that have been collected over the years exalting the triumphs of now disgraced/tainted former greats of the sport or an option I find myself exploring more often lately boxed sets of classic TV series (not so subtle hint for Xmas present there!) I opt for the 2009 Tour.

So into the saddle, switch on the Garmin and the designated session commences. That’s when it starts, what do I look at? The Garmin has numerous functions to consider which can be confusing, the DVD with the dulcet tones of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen confusing each other in an attempt to fill the many tepid moments of ITV4’s live coverage or the fact that I really should consider re-decorating those walls. I tell myself to concentrate on the session and with that in mind I focus on the Garmin and try to match the cadence, heart rate and power output to what is after all a carefully structured training session, put together by the coach. I remind myself that this is all part of a master plan which is intended to deliver me to a peak of fitness at the right time in around six months time, six months! That seems an absolute lifetime away…….

The first fifteen minutes normally result in sitting perfectly in the correct zone set for the session, but that’s only a temporary state, it normally coincides with the first advert break and a bloke telling me that some guy called “Iron Jim” can get me the perfect body by hanging from my door frame or Gloria Hunniford saying if I drink some friendly bacteria I can lower my cholesterol to acceptable limits and by the time I’ve mentally checked to see if the door frame could actually take my weight and considered the value of Gloria’s advice, I’ve dropped right out of the zone.

I manage to get myself back to where I should be for a while but the screen can only hold my attention for so long, I start to look down at my bike which I really should clean as it hasn’t even been on the road for about a month, how did it get that dirty? It’s at that point when I notice the forming of the inevitable bead of perspiration. It usually starts somewhere in my scalp, trundles down over my furrowed brow until it reaches decision time. Will it take the direct route straight down my nose or divert via the eyebrows into the corner of my eye and thereby cause the gritty salt laden sting which will annoy me for the rest of the session. Result! Today it decides on the former and I can amuse myself with that well known turbo pastime of blowing the sweat drip from your nose. With a bottom lip that Bubba Buford from the Forest Gump movie would be proud of I begin to disperse the droplets with increasing skill just before gravity takes its inevitable course, it is only after about a dozen shots that I realise I have caused what would appear to be a small cloud burst on the screen of the DVD player just as Team Columbia are within striking distance of the hapless Frenchie’s that have spent four and a half hours of futile escapism from the peleton.

I’m still churning out the revs and somehow have arrived in a subliminal state where I’m actually beginning to enjoy the feeling of spinning away on the spot. I start to focus in on what my body is doing and every now and again can sense each component part working to a point where I can mentally isolate each individual muscle. This state of mind is abruptly shattered as Iron Jim’s mate exalts the brilliance of the paint restorer and free micro fibre cloth available at all good stockists. I wonder if would clean my filthy frame?

Not long to go now, Cav has long since romped to another stage win, annoyed the commisaires by having a bit of imagination with his victory salutes and being insolent enough to tell everyone the basic truth that he is by far the quickest sprinter in the world in his post race interview with Ned Boulting. I meanwhile am still at least four months away from riding a bike in anger, probably just as well as I remove myself from the saddle with jelly legs, there is a long, long way to go, oh well at least that’s one more training session completed.

My final task is to return the kitchen to it’s proper, use stash the turbo and grab a shower before stretching out and analysing the data file. That’s when it sinks in that tomorrow I’ve got to do it all again! Brilliant I just can’t wait.