My philosophy may be changing a bit on the issue of what it takes to become an elite cyclist, something I wrote about in early 2008. The topic is what characteristics are necessary to go faster than other people in bicycle races. This quest is what ultimately drives me to race, and the fact that others are so challenging to overcome is what keeps my attention. I originally posited that focused training (or “deliberate practice”) over several years was the formula for becoming an expert cyclist, which is the same formula for most endeavors. While I still hold this to be true, I am now conceding that innate and intangible factors are at play. Within the last year, there have been a few examples that have challenged my paradigm:
Exhibit A, The Wrestler: In a mid-race conversation I struck with one rider, he indicated at the beginning of the year he was Category 5. So, this being a Pro1-2 race, I assumed he must have had some type of endurance-based sport experience before the season, like perhaps triathlon or running. So I replied, “You’ve done triathlon?” The answer that followed revealed he was a wrestling coach. Now I know that wrestlers stay ripped, but it is far from an endurance sport like cycling. How is it that a wrestler leaps through all of the categories in a single bound, while the rest of us struggle to slowly move up the ladder? My conversation with the wrestler ended with him asking, “Do you want to bridge up to the leaders?” My thought was, “That would be nice, I wish I could do that.” My actual response was a blank stare, and he proceeded to pedal across the 2-minute gap without me behind him. How, in less than a year, can he do that while I’ve been training to be that fast for 6 years?
Exhibit B, The Alcoholic: This guy is actually an amalgamation of a few guys I’ve raced with. He pounds beers and generally eats crap most of the time, yet goes out and trounces me and others regularly. He might be erratic with performance, but it only takes a couple training rides to be fast (even sometimes while a bit intoxicated). Others claim how good he would be if he paid attention to his diet or laid off the booze. Regardless of whether or not this is true, how does someone ride a bike so fast on crap fuel and spotty training? On the other hand, slower me has been conscientious of my diet and training consistency.
So how is it that some people are faster than me on a bike? To examine the question more fully, let’s turn to cyclists’ favorite explanation, the excuse. Here are mine:
