Well I’m back on the turbo. Almost two years ago when I first started this blog I wrote a post extolling the virtues of the turbo trainer. (If you scroll down far enough you can read it later if you want ) Like a lot of my posts seem to be it was filled with optimism and written with the zeal of man who’d had a recent cycling epiphany. The turbo I confidently proclaimed was no longer ‘a large expensive obstacle to climb over in the garage’ but ‘a part of my training arsenal’

Guess what? It didn’t last. Sure enough I did feel the benefits of the turbo sessions that summer and as a consequence rode further and more often both on and off-road. because I was riding more and getting fitter and even dare I say it tan lines I felt the need to use the turbo less and gradually got out of the habit. Then we had the back room / utility area of the house remodelled and the space where I had the turbo set up in a little frequented corner disappeared temporarily before re-emerging after the building work as a proper grown up back room with pictures on the walls, a sofa and all the soft furnishings the ladies of the house had wanted. Understandably the wife wasn’t keen to have a bike stuck in the middle of her nice new room so the turbo was unceremoniously relegated to the shed and quietly forgotten about.

So another year has rolled round and now coming to towards the what should be the apex of a cycling filled summer yet again I’m looking back at missed opportunities to ride and looking forward at a diary with very few riding gaps in it. I’m definitely showing no signs of a cycling tan and the fitness as usual is woeful which makes the rare days out on a bike rather painful experiences which in turn tends to trigger my inner excuse generator when I do find the time.

It’s not all my fault. Niggling injuries and a newish job have restricted riding chances. A minor car related project which has morphed medusa like into a total weldathon rebuild has seen me donning a welding helmet more than my cycling one, two of the three kids have been sitting major exams which has required parental soothing and proof reading of long meaningless to me English Literature coursework. I could go on but that would be both boring and self-pitying.

It’s fitting enough bike time in to keep the fitness up and the body used to pedalling that I need to crack. And that’s why the turbo has been sneaked back out of the shed and is now residing in the now slightly less pristine than it was ‘new’ back room. Yes I know in theory if I could find an hour to ride I could just jump on my bike and set off, but it’s not actually that simple. A lot of the times I can squeeze a quick cycling session into are bordered by fixed deadlines which are dictated by factors outside my control. Stuff like picking the smallest child up from school. Taking my daughter to Ballet class. Being back home in time to shower and change before a night shift etc. Its called modern life and like that comedian whose name escapes me proclaims – its rubbish sometimes.

Jumping on the turbo for an hour however is a fixed length session of cycling pain which has a definable start and finish point. If I leave the bike strapped to it with my shoes clipped into the pedals like a wannabe triathlete it only requires me to slip into a pair of bib-shorts and fire up the laptop to play whichever Sufferfest video of the five or so I’ve got stashed on the hard disc which best suits the time available and my mood. It’s never looking like it might rain in my back room so vital minutes are never lost hopping from one foot to the other in an agony of indecision over what to wear. I never waste time looking for that elusive long-lost arm-warmer and nobody in a white van is trying to kill me, and I’m never late home because of punctures or navigational incompetence.

An hour on the turbo doing a structured session is also (if you don’t cheat) a quality hour or so’s training. Theres no soft pedalling or freewheeling down hills, its and unpleasant sweat fest that only a masochist who’s obsessed with drinking his or hers own sweat could enjoy. Is it fun? no. Will it make me a fitter rider? hopefully. So that’s why I’m doing it when I’ve got a slot in the hamster wheel of life. I know from previous bitter experience that when the chance of a proper day out riding comes along it can be no fun if your always the tail end Charlie mournfully watching as fitter and faster riding companions disappear breezily into the distance. Even if your riding on your own its much more fun if you can crest a small hill without wondering if your lunch is about to decorate the front wheel of your trusty steed. Technical sections on a mountain bike trail centre suddenly become easier if you’re not struggling for breath and slightly cross-eyed with overexertion when you hit them. I’m sure a lot of you know what I’m talking about……….(after all if you’re a super fit riding god it’s not likely that you’ll have found this blog anyway 😉 )

Anyway, way back when I first posted about the joys of riding nowhere indoors I promised some top tips gleaned from my extensive experience;

1/ But the biggest fan you can find and point it right at your face

2/ Have a towel close at hand or get to like the taste of your own sweat and awkward looking puddles on the floor

3/ Drink loads of water or you’ll end up more dehydrated than a blind camels scrotum

4/ Those mats that are designed to go under turbos and your bike are actually worth it

5/ Those weird looking towelling material jockstrap like things which go between the handlebars and the saddle will keep the sweat off your headset, toptube and the floor.

6/ Watching training videos like The Sufferfest etc will add structure, make you work harder and smarter and help the time pass quicker.

7/ Don’t wear a heart rate monitor – its truly alarming.