Being Fast Is Pointless. I Would Know

 PHIL GAIMON 

EXPLAINS THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE FOR MOST CYCLISTS.

I spent most of my twenties sweating on a bicycle, with the singular focus of being fast. I attended the University of Florida, joined the cycling club, never went to a football game, and I can count the number of beers I drank on one hand. I joined a small pro team after college, spent weeks at a time on the road staying at host houses or sleeping in my car, and it all made sense because it was my job. I was climbing the sacred ladder of sport for competition and glory, and eventually I made it to the WorldTour. That justified all the parties I skipped and pizza I didn’t eat (pizza was an off-season food).

I stopped racing at the end of 2016, and now I make a YouTube show where I train and suffer for Strava KOMs and adventure. So, I still kind of have to be fast for my job, but I’ve finally figured out that while goals are important, achieving them might turn out to be less rewarding than you expected. Your actual life—the way you spend your days—is the process of working toward those goals, so you have to make sure the process doesn’t suck. I’ve reconsidered my old trade-offs and there’s a lot that I won’t do anymore in favor of health, sanity, and safety. I thought it might be useful to share which habits I consider effective and worth sticking to, now that I’m an aspiring weekend warrior, and where I’ve compromised or let loose a little.

Diet.

 In the world of marginal gains, we would worry about inflammation, recovery, and eating breakfast three hours before every ride to ensure proper fueling. These days I’ve reduced my meat intake, prioritizing environmental sustainability. I could lose a couple pounds of water weight if I cut out gluten, but I won’t go that far. Sometimes I sleep in and barely make it to the group ride, so when we stop for coffee I’ll slam a bagel with cream cheese. I’m still a healthy eater, but I won’t bother with any strict rules or -isms that I find a struggle to maintain.

Health. 

Road cycling is non-weight-bearing and neglects a lot of muscle groups, so if that’s all you do for exercise, you’re at risk of osteoporosis and being unable to open jars. One of the guys I ride with is primarily a cyclist, but he also goes on epic backpacking trips. These might cost him a spot or two at the local race, but while he’s less fit as a cyclist, he’s more fit as a human (and the John Muir Trail is beautiful). Instead of riding for three hours, consider stopping at two and taking the third hour for yoga, core work, stretching, or kickball with your kids.

Sleep. 

Sleep is critical for things like mood, immune system, and performance. I hate to say this, but setting an alarm and reducing your sleep in favor of exercise might be counterproductive.

Misery. 

Cycling is a sport that fetishizes suffering. Being slumped over your handlebars and out of breath is fun, but there is a point where it’s not enjoyable anymore. When my paycheck depended on it, I would finish that last set of intervals anyway. If I was a dentist? Absolutely not. Let me give you permission to skip your last interval and go home if you want to.

Time.

 Everything you do comes at the cost of something else you could be doing. I train at a higher intensity now than I used to, but only about half as much. I’m guessing I’d be in big trouble at a stage race, but my day-to-day power output is surprisingly unchanged

Risks. 

I have memories of losing contact with the front group on a climb and catching back up by weaving through team cars on a rainy descent. That was stupid, I’m lucky to be alive, and I descend much slower now. It turns out that you can have 90 percent of the fun at 70 percent of the speed, and keep 100 percent of your skin.

I still usually “win”

 the group ride, ahead of the guys who go backpacking or have real jobs and kids, but you know what? I’m not that far ahead, given the amount of work I put in, and they did a lot of cool stuff while I was just doing the one thing, so I don’t even get to feel superior. For most people, I think you only need to be fast enough to safely enjoy the rides you do, and everything else sort of feels silly and selfish. I’m 33 now, still sweating on a bicycle, and I do sneak away from a party in favor of an early ride. But I can’t pretend I do it for any reason other than fun now, and there’s a lot more pizza.

Recovery. 

Even if it’s all just for fun, you still need to recover. Cold therapy is a simple and scientifically proven method of helping muscles recover faster. Few riders can afford their own cryotherapy chamber; ice baths are just another form of torture (and who really keeps that much ice at home?); and bags of frozen peas just don’t seem to cut it. I created Ice Legs for the everyday cyclist looking for a better solution. They come in two sizes, and each sleeve has six removable ice packs for coverage from your upper thigh to your lower calf. Plus they’re hands-free so you can do better things with your time—like plan your next weekend adventure or eat pizza.