First week of self propelled commuting complete.
Shockingly, it took a full week before some kindly motorist thought I might be more comfortable if I was further over to the left. Even more surprising was the fact that the car in question had a bike rack attached to the boot! Possibly for collecting bikes from the ditches and hedges on his return journey.
This bike is a whole lot twitchier than my last "racer", twenty-ish years ago. The castor angle (thems of a non-technical bent may skip ahead a paragraph), possibly referred to in cycling circles as fork rake or head angle or something, doesn't look too extreme but I'm pretty sure that "look ma, no hands" style showboating is out of the question. Even for a one week veteran of the cyclo-commuting circuit such as I. Moreover, I feel like I should take back every chuckle, laugh and guffaw I ever uttered at a professional cyclist on Youtube for snotting themselves trying something as simple as a fist pump as they cruise toward the finish line, comfortably ahead of the chasing pack. The guy getting thrown over the bridge by the spectator is still pretty funny though.
The motorists, largely, have taken me by surprise with how considerate they are. The couple of Km of my commute along the Celbridge-Dublin Rd. was feared as, and remains, the dangerous stretch and the reason I won't be cycling to work once the mornings or evenings get dark (12 hour shifts shorten the cycling season considerably, I've just realised). Mostly the traffic overtakes me as though I was another car, crossing to the other side of the road to go around. Maybe 5% though, seem to think that if their passenger side wing mirror doesn't clip my elbow, they've left me more than enough room. Negligible margin of error aside, this presents a problem when coupled with the twitchy steering I mentioned above. Not wishing to delay traffic unnecessarily I try to keep far enough left that I'm not too much of a hindrance. The problem with being so considerate is, that's the part of the road where the drains and shores live. And most of the roadkill. And where the branches and nettles stick out of the hedges. So apart from my inherent instability. Excuse me, that should of course be, my bike's inherent instability, there is bound to be some small amount of weaving to dodge these obstacles. Just because I'm holding a reasonably straight line two or three feet from the side of the road, doesn't mean I won't need to avoid a corrugated manhole cover that's barely noticable at 50kph in a car but at 15-20kph is equivalent to a Kango hammer helping the saddle along it's reverse journey up the digestive tract.
The saddle. Yes, the saddle. The question has remained since last Friday whether the sore bum, aching notcher, pernickety perineum etc. etc. et-fecking-cetera, has all been to do with the interaction twixt saddle and arse, to use the vernacular. Having had the bike fitted and adjusted by a pro, I initially thought I just needed to get used to it. A few days of discomfort followed. By pure chance, while on holidays during the week, I discovered that www.ChainReactionCycles.com (one of THE web superstores for bike related gear) was only five minutes down the road so a tentative first visit was paid. A few pairs of proper shorts were acquired, with better looking padding than "baby's first cycle shorts" which came with the bike. The initial pleasure at the fit and padding, though, has been short lived, only lasting until bum contacts seat each morning and evening. It's far from a debilitating pain but, for me, it's a reminder that this, at best, isn't coming naturally for me. So today, rather than waiting for my body to morph into the shape of a Landis, Armstrong or Roche, I went out at lunchtime and adjusted the saddle a bit, dropped the height about 1/2 an inch and moved it forward on the rails a similar anount. Come home time, the first minute or two in the hotseat brought some discomfort, as you may rightly expect when the cause of a bruise comes into direct contact with the bruise. Beyond that, though, I felt for the first time that the sitting parts of my bum were the bits on the saddle. I don't feel there's any more luxury to come form buying more/better padded shorts. Also important to remember that my goal is to cycle to work three or four times a week and, if that proves enjoyable, spend a more leisurely and scenic hour or two in the saddle at the weekends. A wider or more comfortable saddle will be high on the list of potential buys.
I certainly haven't approached my fitness threshold on the bike yet. I'd love to think I could find my physical fitness limit, or approach it, before I have to go home with a sore BoBo.
Pedals have come into sharp focus this week too. Actually, I've discovered the world of bikes, pedals and, by extension, shoes. My bike came with fairly normal looking pedals which included toe clips. Unless I missed a meeting, the expected way to mount a bicycle is via the mini-scoot on one pedal, while the other foot engages it's pedal, and then it's onwards to glory. Not quite so with toe-clips, I'm afraid. With TCs what happens is, you start with one foot ready for maximun thrust, it's power barely contained in the clip/strap arrangement. You launch yourself away from the traffic light with all the gusto of somebody with "one of those jobs" chasing a goon around Dublin's landmarks for half a day, to win tickets to something that half a day's wages would have comfortably covered. But I digress. The first foot imparts a Herculean effort on it's pedal and, by proxy, the cranks and drivetrain and launches the bike off the line like a bride-to-be at the head of the queue for the Harrod's sale. In the meantime, sadly, the other foot has barely come close to engaging in it's toe clip and, thus, spends the next 5 minutes/ two dangerous junctions trying to worm it's way into a device that was supposedly designed for it.
This weekend I'll be checking Aldi to see if they've any shoes left, and maybe a jersey or two. I'll also be shopping in bike shops for hi-vis jackets and looking into pedals and shoe cleats that hopefully will hold my feet on the pedals while I'm transferring my awesome power to the road, but will also allow me have the use of my feet back when I start to topple at a set of lights. Quickly!
30 ish miles covered this week. I had been tracking and timing with GPS on the phone but figured there was little point in busting my chops trying to shave a minute or two off a 22 - 29 minute cycle when the wrong sequence of any of the three sets of traffic lights along the way could add 5 minutes. I will keep an eye on it though. Dropping the car over to a mechanic in Sandyford Ind. Est. on Monday and cycling back. Google maps tells me it's just a bit more than a return trip to work but already it feels more daunting :o Also quite looking forward to it. Plus, it will force me to use the bike to get in and out of work on nights next week.
Weight remains as near to 92kg as makes no difference, which I'm putting down to the well known fact that muscle weighs more than fat. I'm especially pleased to be gaining muscle at exactly the same rate I'm losing weight. No truer sign of a balanced diet/workout regime surely? ;P
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