Confessions of a Data Whore.

Today I rode my bike without a computer attached. I didn’t know my speed, cadence, heart rate, and I sure as hell didn’t get a bunch of maps and graphs showing me where I went, and how much elevation I gained. Granted today was a recovery ride, but still.

Earlier in the week I was having some issues with my trusty garmin. For some unknown reason the tire size changed and it was registering my speed a tad bit higher than I was actually going. Though it would be nice if I could go 40mph with a heart rate of 150, if I could do that my ass would be superPRO and I probably wouldn’t be writing this now because my body would be wrecked from hours upon hours in the saddle. I was able to fix the problem after a short search on the inter-webs. Sorry I’m starting to digress.

The workout on tap for that day was a series of cruise intervals. For the uninitiated cruise intervals require that you park your heart rate somewhere around 95 to 98 percent you max heart rate and keep it there for a set amount of time, somewhere between six and twelve minutes, followed by a two to three minute rest before the pain starts all over again.  These are hard work for a weakling like myself, so when I saw that the speed wasn’t working properly I thought about calling it quits. But then I thought of Eddy. He didn’t have no fancy pantsy gps computer that displayed the beating of his awsome heart. He sacked up, put on his woolen bike britches and rode his fucking ass off.

This thought allowed me to call myself out with the following taunt.

“Eddy didn’t have a garmin, do your intervals pussy.”

Some may say those are harsh words and absolutely no way to treat yourself. I say that sometimes it needs to be done and in this case it did the trick. I sacked up like a good little boy who wants to dominate as many races as he can next this year. When the suffering was over and I could think at least somewhat straight again it occurred to me that sometimes it might be a good idea to ride with out being connected to the satellites above. I immediately rejected the idea. Until yesterday that is.

Yesterday as Alex (one of my new teammates) and I rode up toward Sylvan road I looked down saw to my horror that my connection to the lords of the sky was off. I swore, and turned my master back on.

Alex: “What’s going on?”
Me: “Nothing, I forgot to start the computer up again”
Alex: “Oh. I never ride with a computer”

Flabbergasted, I looked over at his handle bars and sure as shit there wasn’t a little slave driver sitting there telling him what to do. Now Alex is strong, stronger than me at least, races Cat 3, and is an all around nice guy so I figured there might be something to what he was saying. So like I said, today I headed out and did a nice little ride down the Springwater, across the Steal Bridge and back down the West side to the always exciting Sellwood Bridge which I manged to cross without falling in to the icy river bellow. You know what? It wasn’t bad at all.

This ride, without my master, gave me gave me a chance to focus on other things. Like the feral cats lining the start of the Springwater Corridor, or what it feels like push your body over the bumps and breaks in the Willamette green way while continuing to pedal. I didn’t touch the big ring once, and focused on keeping my cadence up based on feel, not what the screen told me. I don’t know what my cadence was, and I don’t really care (which is ok for today at least). But tomorrow is another (long day) and I’ll go back to looking down at the little screen just below my nose.

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