The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 8: Annual Review

August 18, 2014 § 22 Comments

The most important part of your season comes now: After your season.

If you have been following the Wanky Training Plan ™ since January, you will have a solid season of results to carefully review. Your performance in each race will provide key insights into aspects of your racing that need improvement, as well as those aspects in which you have excelled, and will therefore seek to replicate next year.

The most crucial aspect of the Wanky Training Plan ™, and the one that has likely been hardest for you to implement, has of course been the high cadence pedaling style. If you stuck with it, you have likely seen a revolution in your performance as you have metamorphosed from a plodding clogstacle into a graceful, speedy, gazelle.

To help you properly review your season, I’ve selected some of my best results from 2014 so that you can see how a proper evaluation will lead to analysis of strengths and weaknesses for 2015.

Boulevard Road Race: The season began with a powerful and impressive DNF, in which all of the successful strength and high rpm-training exercises in the off season came to fruition. Although I did not actually finish the race, I got to test several electrolyte replacement fluids for ease of digestion and ease of puking them back out on the climb.

Red Trolley Crit: My first crit of the year featured a strong moral victory in which I went to the front and spun very hard. Although I did not actually finish the race, the key objective of not falling off my bicycle was achieved 100%.

UCLA Road Race: This was a super hard race and marked the first time in 2014 that I finished a race, so it was actually considered a first-place finish (by me) even though the technical placing was 29th. Out of 30. By spinning very quickly I was able to not over-tire myself, meeting another key objective, i.e. looking good on the finish line.

CBR Race #2: In my second crit of 2014, I achieved an impressive finish by finishing. Spinning played a key role in my ability to achieve 26th place out of 37 racers, a massive improvement of three placing from the week before. Simple math showed that in a mere eight more races I would mathematically be guaranteed to finish in first place.

Chuck Pontius Road Race: This was a blustery and challenging race where all aspects of the Wanky Training Plan ™ were utilized, including the refusal to cry. It also showed how continual spinning and recovery can lead to amazing results. I earned an impressive top ten finish, finishing 10th place out of ten finishes and 13 starters. Good things were clearly just around the bend as I was now peaking.

San Dimas Stage Race: Putting together all the pieces of a complex, 3-day stage race, I spun my way to 31st in the time trial,  39th in the road race, and 37th in the crit for an overall GC of 38th. This devastated the two racers who came in 39th and 40th, respectively, and showed that high cadence racing allows you to conserve until the end.

It was at this point in the season that things really came together — 22nd in the LA Circuit Race, 28th at the District Championships (29th place is still sobbing over his bitter defeat), and 146th at the Belgian Waffle Ride made this unquestionably the strongest spring campaign I’ve had in 30+ years of bike racing. But the best was yet to come.

Although I did not finish either Saturday or Sunday of the 805 Crit Series, we successfully rented a motor home and did not drive it off a cliff or get arrested. Thanks, Wanky Training Plan ™!

 

The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 7: Wanky Toughness Pills

February 13, 2014 § 6 Comments

On Monday morning my inbox broke from the email deluge. Then on Tuesday the volume doubled. Today it finally tapered off and I’ve been able to read through all 34,872,011.92 emails regarding the catastrophic meltdown of Prez at the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre crit in Brea. Here’s a sampling of the anger:

“U suck WM. Prez wuz yer number one Wanky Training Plan ™ rider and he DNF’ed. FUKKKK UUUU!!”

“Wanky Training Plan is a fraud and a sham. Prez couldn’t even finish the Brea crit using your fakish training plan. I want my money back once I pay you.”

“Sad days all around for us WTP ™ adherents. We heard through the grapevine that Prez got shitcanned at the local Sunday crit using your training plan. Huge loss of confidence in your advice, Wanky.”

“Dear Mr. Wankmeister: This is your formal notification of a class action lawsuit filed against you as a result of your fraudulent Wanky Training Plan ™ and its utter failure to get Prez across the finish line, much less a victory in a recent bicycle race. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Heartbroken. Prez DNF. Wanky Training Plan ™ a failure. There is no Dog.”

“Whats next Wanky or should I say Bernie Made-off, as in ‘made off with all my money’? Your a crook and the Wanky Training Plan ™ is a faik. Going back to Elron Peterson and his one-legged drills. Look stupid I may, and broke it may make me, but defeat with honor.”

“Yo, Wanky! I saw Prez sobbing in the gutter after NPR yesterday. Claimed the WTP ™ has made him SLOWER. WEAKER. LAZIER. FATTER. WTF?”

I can explain

First of all, it’s true. After following the Wanky Training Plan ™ religiously, plus 2,500 hours in the gym, plus $8,762.09 spent on a special spin bike coach, plus an entire season dedicated to becoming the anchor in the SCC lead out train, Prez did in fact get shitcanned in the final laps of the race when the brutes on SCC brought it up to 35 mph and held it until the end, when Inkjet and Loverboy closed the deal in first and second place.

It’s also true that Prez not only followed the WTP ™, but he got a custom Wanky tattoo on his special place so that he could remind himself how dedicated he was to the plan. And it’s also true that he paid the Wanky Foundation (a non-profit group dedicated to helping wankers overcome their fear of doing hard road races) $75,000 for a signed diploma from the Wanky Institute and a collectible pair of Wanky’s old underwear from back in the glory days.

HOWEVER.

The reason that he came unglued, quit, gave up, threw in the towel, and failed to finish the race had nothing to do with the Wanky Training Plan ™, a scientific system developed in conjunction with research from the Harvard labs, Olympic racing data, tea leaves, astrology, and input from Crazy Betsy the Psychic Reader.

No, the reason Prez abandoned, backed down, bailed out, bowed out, buckled under, capitulated, caved, chickened out, collapsed, cried uncle, folded, pulled out, stopped, and surrendered was because he forgot to take his Wanky Toughness Pills ™ before the race.

What’s a Wanky Toughness Pill ™ ?

Elite members of the Wanky Training Plan ™ who have been diagnosed as having Low Toughness by a medical professional, psychotherapist, or playground bully are eligible to receive one bottle of Wanky Toughness Pills ™ to treat their Low – T.

When a racer follows all of the steps in the training plan but is still unable to hang in when the going gets tough due to his emotional frailty, he is put on a special regimen of raw kale and toughness pills. The Low – T is then ameliorated, turning the former milquetoast into a badass leg breaking pain drinking nail eating muddafugga.

Without divulging patient confidentiality, Prez suffered from extremely Low – T. His T was so low that he couldn’t even take a pull on the NPR, kind of a threshold level of mental weakness that only a few baby seals are capable of de-spiring to. In sum, he received a double dosage of Wanky Toughness Pills ™ designed to remedy his habitual characteristic of “When the going gets tough, I get another frozen daiquiri.”

After the race we spoke and he admitted that he’d forgotten to take his toughness pills. However, he also said that in order to make up for this week’s epic collapse he had taken the whole bottle, eaten four pounds of raw kale, and was going to show up for UCLA Punchbowl to show “those skinny little fuggheads how it’s done.”

So before you go clamoring for a refund, watch for race results. You’ll see who’s been taking their toughness pills, and who hasn’t.

The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 6: Having the right de-equipment

January 24, 2014 § 19 Comments

As you continue your rest period, being laughed at by Sausage, called out by Donnie, and ridiculed by the entire NPR peloton as they pass you yelling “Spin, wanker!” and “Wanker on the right!” and “Outta the way, moron!” and “Are you available next Thursday?” you must have faith and be strong. This is what it was like to a Christian in the lion’s den, or, even more horrific, to be an atheist in a Houston public school in the 70’s.

Now that you have spent days on end going slow and tweezle spinning, your legs should feel fresh, relaxed, happy, and purged of the two most lethal chemicals that stand in the way of proper muscular and cardio development: lactic acid and old beer. However, this is only the beginning. Your adoption of the Wanky Training Plan ™ requires that you begin to tune in, turn on, and drop out (of Strava).

Proper training requires the absence of the right equipment

Before moving on to the next step in the WTP, please take the following handy-dandy quiz.

  1. I am on Strava. Yes/No
  2. I have a power meter. Yes/No
  3. I have a heart rate monitor. Yes/No
  4. I have a Garmin. Yes/No

Did you answer “yes” to any of these? Of course you did! So, let’s take them one-by-one and figure out how we can get you completely dialed into the Wanky Training Plan ™.  First, Strava. You need to get off this, just like you need to get off crack, meth, and Facebook. Not happening, you say? I know, but Strava’s not helping your cause because it becomes an end in itself. You fear posting a ride (Lane! Brian!) that’s not awesome, as if you’re a porn star who can’t get the job done on film. The reality is that by constantly forcing yourself to perform on Strava, you’re letting the software dictate your workouts — and tire you out. So what’s a Gollum-like Strava-head to do?

– Ride for the next thirty days without uploading a single ride.
— Quit looking at other people’s rides.
— Turn off the “You lost your KOM!” alerts (assuming you have any, which is doubtful).

Next is your addiction to the power meter. Studies have shown that no one ever rode faster due to a power meter, but millions have ridden slower, or given up riding altogether because of one. A power meter is a feedback mechanism that, at best, confirms what you already know: You aren’t that fast. Remember the first time you got one and how devastated you were to learn that your FTP was equivalent to that of a Cat 4, or a newt? Then remember how, after a year of hard work, you were only able to raise it to a Cat 3, or a salamander? Shuck the PM and accept that no improvement will ever come as the result of a device. Better yet, accept that no improvement will ever come. So, take off all your crank-connected, hub-connected, pedal-connected power meter devices and give them to someone you really despise. You’ll be glad you did.

Heart rate monitor? Really? There’s no need for this item. Like the power meter, it will only tell you that your heart is beating so fast you can’t possibly sustain the effort, so quit now before the infarction. Although the heart is an integral enemy and perpetual foe in the WTP, for now all you need to know is that you can — you must — ignore it.

Nothing has done more to ruin the essence of cycling than Garmin. This device has reduced the open road, the huge vistas, the stunning sunrises, the incredible panoramas into a tiny little plastic screen that spits out “data” which only tells us what we already know: You are slow and weak, and getting slower and weaker. Ditch the Garmin.

So what performance measuring device do I really NEED?

For hundreds of years, the holy grail of sailors was a watch that could keep time. Once it was invented, people conquered the globe by being able to plot longitude, enabling them to sail from an obscure port in Europe all the way ’round the world and back again in tiny barks scarcely worthy of the name “ship.” If it was good enough for Columbus, wanker, and if it was good enough for Eddy, then it’s good enough for you.

That’s right, the only device you need to measure your performance is a Timex wrist watch. If you can measure distance and you can measure time, then you can measure speed. Scott Dickson didn’t need a Garmin to win Paris-Brest-Paris. All he needed was a wristwatch, plenty of scotch, and an iron will. The wristwatch is likewise all you need for measuring cadence. Start the stopwatch function, count out 30 seconds worth of pedal strokes, multiply by two, and boom! You’ll have your rpm’s without needing to adjust magnets on your spokes, your crank, your chain stay, and without having to wirelessly ANT the whole thing to a $500 computer that, after the ride, you have to upload to a remote server, then upload to WKO+, then analyze with graphs.

Just use the stupid watch. Really.

Now that you’ve de-equipped yourself, you’re ready for the first week of non-training. Here’s your plan:

  1. Calculate your normal rpm with the wristwatch.
  2. Add 20 rpm.
  3. Ride for two hours at the new cadence.
  4. Drink a shit-ton of beer after you finish.

Don’t you feel good now? Sure you do.

The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 5: You’re still not ready

January 20, 2014 § 7 Comments

Even though you have dutifully progressed from Chapters 1 – 4, you are not ready for the Intermediate Phase of the Wanky Training Plan ™. How can I possibly know this? Because you are a cyclist, which means you want to skip steps, charge ahead where fools dare to tread, and get the spoils of victory without doing any of the work and enjoy your beer.

First, however, we need to review the fundamentals.

  1. You are old.
  2. You are weak.
  3. You are getting older.
  4. You are getting weaker.
  5. Give up now.

Once you feel as if you can recite this list AND what you had for breakfast, we can progress to the second analytical phase of the program, which involves explaining the “why” before telling you the “what.”

The scientific theory behind building fitness and strength

The dominant scientific theory behind strength and cardio fitness improvement is strangely unrelated to beer consumption. Rather, it is that you improve strength and fitness by applying work loads to your muscles, heart, and lungs, and then they rebuild after the training period to become stronger. It sounds simple, but it’s really not, because as you have learned (it’s the reason you’re on the WTP), the more you train after a certain point, the more fatigued you become.

The simple question, then, is “How much should I train?”

The simple answer is, “A shit-ton less than what you’re doing right now.”

Training plans that propose blocks of intervals followed by brief, one-week periods of rest are effective when you are in your teens, twenties, and early thirties. In fact, these training plans were devised in order to maximize performance of elite cyclists at the peak of their game — young mutants who can crank out massive efforts and then, thanks to youth and great nutrition and lots of drugs, recover almost immediately.

You’ve noticed that these plans don’t work for you. Why? Obviously, because you’re neither young nor an elite athlete. Moreover, you lack the motivation to do anything more than a couple of  Wanky Beer Intervals ™, and your body simply can’t take the drubbing of repeated, intense training. What you need isn’t a better training plan, but a better resting plan. You’re in your late 40’s or older. Your cuts heal more slowly. Your erectile tissues don’t work as regularly as they once did. You have to read things three or four times before forgetting them.

So make a little sticky that says “More Rest” and tack it all over the house. Done? Okay, we can move on to the part you will like, rest + beer.

Proper rest-to-training ratios

Remember that you are slow, weak, old, and take forever to recover. Hence, your rest-to-training ratio should not resemble, even a tiny little bit, the ratios of real athletes and/or young people. In my very scientific study of human physiology which I did a few minutes ago on Google, the perfect ratio for old weak people is this: One week on, one week off.

“Oh, boy!” I can hear you clapping. “This is my ON week! Let’s hammer!”

Not so fast, wrinkled grasshopper. Your “on” week should have a maximum of three ball-breaking/vagina-searing days, but everything else should be rest. For example:

  • Monday: Tweezly spinning
  • Tuesday: NPR (go to the front, you wanker!)
  • Wednesday: Tweezly spinning
  • Thursday: More NPR flailage (and pound your guts out, none of that 26 mph crap, right, G$?)
  • Friday: Coffee cruise, rest, and casual lies about your real training plan
  • Saturday: Full Donut, no shortcuts, until you puke up a femur
  • Sunday: Wheatgrass Ride, so slow that the only person who will ride with you is New Girl. Yeah, THAT slow.

Your “off” week then looks like this:

  • Monday: 1 hour tweezly spinning + beer
  • Tuesday: 2 hours tweezly spinning + beer
  • Wednesday: 2 hours tweezly spinning + beer
  • Thursday: 2 hours tweezly spinning + beer
  • Friday: 1 hour tweezly spinning + coffee and lies + beer
  • Saturday: 2 hours tweezly spinning, maybe the Donut course + beer
  • Sunday: 2 hours tweezly spinning + beer
  • Monday: 1 hour tweezly spinning + beer

We can talk later about tweezly spinning and how to properly do it, and perhaps we will, but you get the drift. You are so old and weak and susceptible to systemic collapse that the only way to survive those three hard days during your “on” week is to buffer it with more recovery than a halfway house.

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The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 4: Intermediate Spinning

January 14, 2014 § 12 Comments

Now that you have mastered basic spinning, you have lots of questions and you’re not very pleased.

“How long was I supposed to spin for?”

“How far was I supposed to go?”

“What were my average watts/HR supposed to be?”

“How can I keep people from laughing at me when I post this to Strava?”

Well, grasshopper, that was just your first entry into the world of the Wanky Training Plan ™. Now that you have mastered the art of going out and doing something other than hammering, it is important to remember this Russian proverb: “The best way to protect yourself is to shut up. And when you finish doing that, shut up some more.”

As with excessive blather, spinning and rest must be followed by more spinning and rest. Here’s a handy-dandy self-evaluation quiz to help you determine whether or not you’ve truly mastered the art of spin.

Self-evaluation Quiz

  1. Why’m I going so fucking slow? Yes/No
  2. My legs can’t turn that fast. Yes/No
  3. Hey! There go my peeps! I’m gonna hop in and hammer for just a few minutes! Yes/No
  4. This is boring. Yes/No
  5. Can I hammer now? Yes/No

If you answered “Yes” to any of the above, you haven’t yet mastered Spinning 101. Please return to the street and repeat the lesson in Chapter 3. Once you can spin in your tiniest, itsy-bitsiest, teensy-weensiest baby gear for two hours, you will be ready for Intermediate Spinning.

Torque v. Angular Velocity

Although Wankmeister generally eschews science in favor of completely made-up bullshit, it is a proven fact that on a bicycle power is the result of torque and angular velocity. This sounds complicated, but it’s not. Torque is mashing on the pedals. Imagine that you had the leg strength of Godzilla. When you mashed on the right pedal you would shear it off from the crank, dig the teeth of the chain ring into your leg, strip all the muscle away from the bone, and shatter your foot into a billion pieces when it hit the ground. This is torque. The more of that you have, the faster the bike will go, unless you have so much of it that you end up with no foot whatsoever, in which case you’re pretty well screwed.

Angular velocity is a fancy way of saying “making the crank spin quickly.” The quicker it spins, the faster you go. So if you could twirl the cranks at, say, 4,000,000 rpm, the whole contraption would heat up, melt the bottom bracket, tear the crank out of the frame, and result in a catastrophic accident. But if, say, you could twirl the cranks at a more reasonable 160 rpm, you’d go like a bat out of hell.

Most training plans try to help you develop torque by various impossible methods, listed below:

  1. Improve muscular force by diets designed to get rid of all your flab. Diets don’t work. Please quit now and have another helping of cookies.
  2. Improve muscular force by working out in the gym. You want to be a gym rat? Dude, gyms suck donkey balls. They are nasty, microbe-infested shitholes that are filled with sweaty big people who sneer at you because you’re so tweezly. Also, there’s no empirical evidence of any kind that gym work works.
  3. Improve muscular force by S/E workouts. These workouts are stupid and ineffective if you believe in science. They are great if you want to brag about your Wednesday “Big Ring workout” on Via del Monte.
  4. Improve muscular force through intervals. These work and are a living hell. You will hate racing and riding if you do them for long, or, you enjoy them because you are batshit crazy.
  5. Improve muscular force through banned PED’s. These work, but only when combined with #4. So, you’re back to square one. Plus, they’re expensive and will get you a 2 or 4-year racing vacation when you get caught.

Since improving torque is hopeless and/or painful, that only leaves one avenue: increasing angular velocity. In other words, spin the damn pedals faster. The problem is that you’re too weak to do it in a big gear, but there’s an additional problem. Your legs aren’t accustomed to going around fast. You’re a gronker with an average cadence of 70-85 rpm, and if you can’t turn 120 rpm in your 34 x 28, how the hell are you going to do it in your 53 x 11?

Answer: You aren’t.

So the challenge is to begin with baby steps. Start with your easiest gear, go out on your bike, and ride for an hour trying to keep it at about 100 to 110 rpm. This will feel like your legs are coming detached at the hip. If you’re really unlucky you’ll tear a tendon, ligament, muscle, or your tongue. Give it a try. Then get back to me and we’ll see if you’re really and truly ready for the intermediate lesson.

The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 3: How to Spin (not “Spoon”)

January 13, 2014 § 3 Comments

Aside from age, inability, laziness, drunkenness, and absence of desire — all key qualities for any racer seriously embarking on the Wanky Training Plan ™ — it is important to realize that the main thing holding you back from the fifth or even the fourth step of the ugly wooden podium that someone hammered together with cheap plywood so you could totter on it, arms waving wildly as you try to keep from plunging off the back and onto the concrete in the typical arms-raised-cyclist-in-slippery-cleats-on-painted-wood-pose, is fatigue.

The fact is that aside from the creaky joints, achey back, loose bowels, urinary incontinence, and general systemic collapse that generates discomfort and pain as you rush maddeningly faster down the death spiral of human longevity, your main problem is that you’re bone tired. And please don’t give me that “But I take off Mondays and Fridays,” or “Last week was a rest week” crap.

At your age it has to be a rest month, and you’d better be ready to make virtually every week a rest week if you’re going to succeed on the Wanky Training Plan ™.

Fatigue self-evaluation

The difference between fatigue and being tired is simple. Tired is what happens when you stay up late eating potato chips. Fatigued is what happens when you ride your bike for hundreds of miles every week. But in case you’re unsure, or more likely, in total denial, take the quiz:

  1. After riding, I sit at my desk and stare vacantly at the screen. Yes/No
  2. I do “training blocks.” Yes/No
  3. I do “base miles.” Yes/No
  4. If I miss three consecutive riding days I tell myself (and every wanker who will listen) that I’m “out of shape.” Yes/No
  5. I’ve never missed three consecutive riding days. Yes/No
  6. More is better. Yes/No
  7. I’m a gronker. Yes/No [Refer to Wanky's Circular on Gronking, #45, in a previous blog post.]
  8. When I’m off my bike, motion is my enemy. Yes/No
  9. No injury or illness is so severe that some type of cycling (trainer, rollers, spin class) can’t be sneaked in. Yes/No
  10. I would ride less if … well, no, I wouldn’t. Yes/No

If you answered “Yes” to any of these, you are fatigued. Fatigue won’t go away with a day off, or a week off, or beer, and it’s different from overtraining. Whereas overtraining simply means you are stupid and cannot be helped, ever, because your newt-sized brain is permanently stuck on No. 6 in the quiz above, fatigue can be overcome. But like the lightbulb, you must want to change.

The Yin to the hammer’s Yang

Hammering is the Yang of cycling. You do it because you can, because you get sucked in, because you’re a chronic gronker, and because no one has ever shown you how to spin. Spinning, of course, is the Yin of cycling. We’ve all heard the same stupid advice for decades. “Spin to win.” “The pros all know how to spin.” “Practice with a fixie.” “Race the track, that’ll get your cadence up.” Blah, blah, blah.

Before you can spin, however, you must truly understand the Yin and why it is so important. It is important because, properly done, spinning will rest your legs, actively recover your legs, and build your cardiovascular fitness. What’s most extraordinary is that you can achieve all these things without ever doing an interval, with the exception of perhaps a Belgian Tripel followed by a stout and finished off with an IPA.

In order to spin, you must first relearn some basic stuff, and the most basic one is this: You gotta go slow. Right. I’m talking to you, Mr./Ms. Hammerallthetimebecauseitsfun. Because you have a hard time with new ideas, this one is going to be very simply stated.

  1. Put your bike in your easiest gear, no matter what the terrain.
  2. Start pedaling.
  3. Do not change the gear.

Okay. That’s it for today. Now go have a beer. See? I told you the Wanky Training Plan ™ was fun!

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The Atheist Training Bible for Old Bicycle Racers, Chapter 2: Why All Training Plans Suck, Except Wanky’s

January 9, 2014 § 24 Comments

Training plans all suffer from the same set of defects. They require you to follow them, they require discipline, and they were designed for someone else.

Let’s look at this first mortal flaw, the requirement that you actually do what the plan tells you to do. This would not be a problem if the plan said, for example, “You’re not drinking enough beer. Drink more beer.” (In fact, this is one of the first things you will be required to do on the Wanky Training Plan ™ . But all training plans except Wanky’s never tell you that. Instead, they all have, buried nastily down in Month 2 or Week 12 or in the arbitration clause, something called “intervals.”

This is like burying a plutonium pellet inside the vagina of a beautiful rich single woman Rhodes scholar who wants to be your mistress and is a fantastic housekeeper, cook, and head of a Silicon Valley major corporation, who always orgasms before you do and whose idea of a great relationship is you riding your bike while she hands you up water bottles. Of course, the “other coach’s training plan” never starts you out with intervals. That would alert you to all the misery and hard work and impossibility that lies ahead, so it starts you out with “blocks” of “base miles.” And who doesn’t like base miles?

Base miles mean hours and hours of fiddling around up and down the coast, chatting with your pals, drinking coffee, trolling the Internet for new bootie covers, trolling the peloton for new booty, damn, son, this is the life! But do you need base miles? Of course not. As a Wanky Training Plan ™ devotee, you’ve been riding for years and have so many miles on your legs that your taint looks like grade P12 sandpaper that’s backed with chips of flint. Still, they give you base miles because it feels good.

Then, the nasty part of the training plan sets in: Intervals. Sometimes they’re called 20-minute efforts, or FTP tests, or big ring workouts, but trust Wanky, they’re all the same shit. You will climb inside a skanky hurt locker and pound your brains out until you despise the very bike you’re now on a 36-month payment plan for. This is “what makes you stronger,” but in reality it’s what makes you realize that you just aren’t cut out for bike racing. It’s somewhere in between that second and third set of 20-minute efforts that you realize your power has dropped, your heart rate has tanked, and this is about as much fun as getting a new tooth implant in your anus.

The Wanky Training Plan ™ , however, will never require you to do an interval, unless you consider drinking three beers in a row an “interval.” The WTP requires, instead, that you “Begin to Spin.”

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter 3: How to Spin (not Spoon)

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