Notes from the Gruppetto
Two unpleasant things fused together
The “painger” of the first race
You’ve been on Zwift doing your strongest block of winter training ever. You’ve gone to the gym (wisely not wearing bib shorts to lift weights) and flexed your pathetic muscles in an attempt to build resilience in preparation for the upcoming race season. You’ve hired a coach who has moved your threshold up a whole 10 W. You’ve gone to do altitude training in Tenerife. You’ve had your family DS and child-soigneurs massaging your muscles so they are loose and supple. You’ve kept away from the buffet. And you’ve shaved your guns for the battle ahead. In short, it has been a good winter.
Guess what? It don’t matter. That first race you do will hit you with a massive dose of “painger“and there ain’t a damn thing your new carbon wheels can do about it. Don’t know what painger is? Like Brangelina or hangry it is an unholy union (or portmanteau) of two distinct entities: pain and danger.
Let’s start with pain. Every year, I think I’ve done enough threshold intervals or intensity work in the month leading up to the season that I believe I’ll be ready. But it’s all an illusion. I remember a few years ago feeling really good going into the Paris to Ancaster gravel race. Then came the event’s early uphill sprint. My heart rate spiked far beyond anywhere it has visited since the previous fall and it stayed there until I was dropped an hour later. I remember the first crit I did three years ago. Seven minutes in I realized there were still 53 minutes to go. I wondered how the hell I would hold on at the back. Then, post race, you feel things. There’s really nothing that prepares your little muscles for the fatigue of racing. You hold tension in all sorts of weird
“You hold tension in all sorts of weird places and after the race you notice that your jaw aches or your shoulders are tight.”
places and after the race you notice that your jaw aches or your shoulders are tight.
Then there’s the danger. In Zwift, I listen to music and watch bad TV. Steering is a non-factor. There’s no crashing in Zwift. In your first race, however, you become acutely aware that you could go down hard. Your reaction time and responsiveness isn’t what it will be by mid-season. I remember that Paris to Ancaster a few years back. After the first hill, we turned onto a long two-lane road. The field was lined out in two columns. I was staring at the wheel in front of me when suddenly that wheel stopped. I collided with the bike ahead. We landed in a ditch with the other bike’s pedal in my spokes. Both of us untangled, remounted, fortunate to not be hurt, and resumed our race.
This year I’m planning to do a few mountain bike races with Ontario’s Substance Projects circuit. Since I cannot go over large obstacles, descend steep lines or ride a mountain bike in general, this plan will likely result in a large dose of painger for me.
But what alternative do we have? Sitting on the couch, eating Ding Dongs and worrying about our ability to fit into Lycra. Besides, there are also the moments when you’re flowing with the pack, moving up in the field, not getting dropped or even sprinting for minor places in a Cat. 3 race no one except your partner will watch (well, probably not) that make it all worthwhile. After all, spring is here.