And
now for something completely different!
Rather than the customary "how
to" orientation of RBR eBooks, The Adventures of Axel Kleat
might be described as "I did . . . and I thought about it while doing it."
Axel Kleat (aka Doug Kirk)
is a 53-year-old Michigan roadie who is a lot like all of us. But he's been
gifted with a keen (some would say eccentric) ability to observe the many
sides of cycling and write about them with insight, opinion and humor. He's
a year-round fast recreational roadie and tourer with a quarter century of
cycling experiences under his wheels.
For years, Axel Kleat's
cycling adventures were a hit in his bike club newsletter. Now the best of
those short stories have been distilled into this 144-page
eBook. We think his perceptions,
lessons and entertaining tales deserve a worldwide audience, and RBR is
pleased to make them available.
This is an eBook to be
browsed and savored, not necessarily read straight through. Be ready to laugh, cry, marvel at outlandish opinions and learn a
thing or two about road cycling. Says the author in his introduction:
"The stories that follow reflect my belief that the lessons bicycling
teaches apply to all of life. The way I relate to humanity, planet Earth,
and especially myself have all benefited from the joy, suffering,
camaraderie, loneliness, and even boredom of 5,000 bicycle rides in the last
24 years."
EXCERPT:
Slow Down
Eddie B,
the famous cycling coach who managed to depart the eastern European communist
bloc cycling regime in the 1970s and apply his skills here in the States, is
credited with opining that “the problem with American bike racers is that they
go too fast on their slow days, and too slow on their fast days.”
Back then, my “fast” wasn’t much
different than my “slow.” Sure I could take it easy or turn up the wick a bit,
but I still had a lot to learn. Paul, the erstwhile Sultan of Spin had yet to
install a 12-tooth cog—much less the 11 he now claims he cannot do without. He
was still my guru and every ride was a mission to smooth out and speed up my
cadence. I was focused on the mechanics of turning pedals, seat height and
setback, cleat placement, crankarm length, ankling, and the speed on that darn
computer staring up at me from the handlebar.
I ditched the computer a few
years ago but it took a while longer to figure out that bike fit is all fine and
good, but taking care of my legs, heart and lungs is a whole lot more important
than all that other stuff. A quote from Lance Armstrong brought Eddie B’s old
line back into focus, but with a modern twist. Talking about heart rate
monitors, Lance said he uses one in training primarily “to give himself
permission to go slow.”
Lance going slow? Now that’s a
novel concept! Why would Lance need permission to go slow? Because Americans
go too fast on their slow days! It wasn’t quite like a light bulb going off in
my head, but the concept did eventually sink in. Maybe I could go faster if I
learned to really go slow.
And indeed I’ve found it
actually works. But here’s the key—going slow isn’t about speed at all. It’s
about effort. And it can actually be hard to ride slow enough to keep your
heart rate low the entire ride, especially if there happens to be a few hills
along the way.
The heart-rate monitor is the
key. If I look down and find too big a number, it doesn’t matter how fast I’m
going—I’m going too fast and that’s all there is to it. Road race bikes aren’t
bristling with low gears, so uphill jaunts can mean really slow cadences in
order to keep the heart rate down where it should be. Cadences slow enough to
really pay attention to a smooth and circular motion, to pulling across the
bottom of the stroke and lifting the pedal up—cadences well under 60 rpm and
speeds so slow the bike wobbles.
Now I look at my normal easy
routes in a whole different light. My standard 18-mile “recovery” route has to
take an hour and a half or I’m not training right. My cadence drops at the
slightest incline. A little puff of headwind and I’m clicking down a gear or
two. I’m willing to let other smirking riders—sometimes on mountain bikes with
platform pedals, for crying out loud—cruise right on by. The worst part is
when I get passed by some guy I know I can drop any time I feel like it. One
guy actually asked if I needed help! But I force the heart rate monitor to
overrule my ego. Maybe, just maybe, those other guys wonder exactly what I’m up
to.
