It’s been a busy couple of days in Declining
Cyclist land. One might almost think I was thinking of taking my riding seriously again! Two days running I’ve put a significant ride in both in and out of doors.

I’ll give you a quick run down, I know you’re all waiting with bated breath and knee trembling anticipation so here’s the tale of two days of two very different two-wheeled adventures…….

So, yesterday was a rare day for December on this wind-swept damp little island. Yes it was cold, but it wasn’t raining. In fact it was almost sunny. It was a weak winter ‘almost not worth the effort’ sort of sun but it was there and it seemed a shame to waste it. Decisive action was needed and swiftly deciding to bin my planned indoor Zwift ride I marched purposefully outside and slung my faithful very retro steel hard tail into the boot of the car. This was my first mistake. Why the hard tail? Well it was the closest bike to the shed door as I’d lent it to my eldest son the week before so it was accessible and rideable without the faff of swapping pedals over, wondering if the shock had air in it (its running an old coil sprung fork), and it takes less cleaning after a winter muddy ride.

I had most definitely noticed while loading the bike however that the temperature was most certainly the wrong side of zero. This opened the ‘what to wear’ can of worms that just isn’t an issue when your ride never moves from the centrally heated back room. Several months of indoor Zwifting had left me woefully ill-equipped to make the needed for quick decision. Within the space of the next 15 minutes many combinations of long disused winter cycling apparel were wriggled into, fretted over, pulled off again and discarded on the bedroom floor. When I finally settled on what I hoped was a set of togs that would prevent me from succumbing to a lonely death frozen to a tree stump half way up a Welsh hillside, but still allow me to turn the pedals my early start was slipping away. Further vital time was lost finding my also ‘not used for sometime’ Garmin which was of course predictably totally flat, which then in turn meant another five minutes spent cursing while hunting for the correct charging lead which would let me plug it into the car. All this faffing led me straight to mistake number two which was the conscious choice to skip any breakfast apart from a chocolate digestive and a glass of the sort of fizzy drink that starts to loosen your fillings as soon as you unscrew the lid. This decision and its later ramifications would come back to haunt me later in the day.

So I set of (eventually) for my Welsh trail centre of choice slightly frazzled but still looking forward to my first real ride for far too long. I’m expecting if not great things, at least some improvement from my three or so months of intermittent Zwift riding, surely all that sweating onto the floor and dribbling onto the  top tube of my road bike must have done me some good?

I’m not going to bore you with a blow-by-blow corner by corner account of my ride around a mix of the red and blue trails of Coed Llandegla, but don’t worry I will leave you with some pertinent observations. First, after a while away from the real world of riding (especially off-road) it was a bad move of epic proportions making my first ride back on the hardtail. I was in trouble after the first section of single track. Yes I was probably I think appreciably fitter but Zwift fit is not ride fit.  Funnily enough there’s no real bumps on a turbo trainer, or mud, or roots, or pine needles that get flicked into yours eyes by your front tyre. My back, shoulders, forearms and backside where just some of the parts of my body that were loudly protesting about this unexpected punishment that was being dished out.

It was a painful lesson in riding in the real world again. Screen hero to actual zero in one rocky downhill section, oh and the lack of breakfast meant I bonked spectacularly about 3/4 of the way round the lap as well………. I most certainly felt like I was in decline as I rolled back into the trail centre carpark.

Theres always an upside however, and in this case its most definitely the trail centre cafe at Llandegla. Home of the best bacon rolls in the UK it’s the perfect refuelling stop for the under prepared mountain biker. This is where mistake number three cropped up. Fully aware my body desperately needed refuelling before attempting a second tilt at the trails I entered the cafe fully intending to order a nice large plate of baked beans on toast and an orange juice. Perfect mid ride refuelling I hear you say. Unfortunately just as I was about to order the cafe’s famous full Welsh breakfast was delivered to some walkers at the next table. ‘Ummmmmm, that looks rather tasty’ said the inner bad voice in my head. ‘If you ate that you’ll be regretting it later!’ said sensible voice. Honestly it was like listening to Gollum in the Lord of the Rings films. I’m sure you can guess which voice won, but damn it was tasty, and trying to get the juicy bit of bacon rind out from between my back left molars kept my mind off the pain in my quads and the uncomfortable bubbling in my stomach for quite a long way up Llandeglas infamous first climb after I gamely set off for a second lap of the day.

So in retrospect did all the Zwift riding help me back out in the real world? I think it did up to a point. Looking at my Strava times on the first lap I was setting times on some of the segments I havent got close to in a while, but I still someway off what I could do a few years ago. What it did bring into focus is that Zwift fitness is not real all round riding fitness. Sitting on a turbo does not prepare your upper body and core for the demands of rattling down a rocky bit of single track at speed. If you can’t hang on because you’ve got chronic arm pump it makes the 10 watt increase in your FTP irrelevant. This was of course exacerbated by my rather daft choice of the old school 26′ wheeled steel hardtail for this ride, but it did give me a good reality check about remembering there’s more to improving as a cyclist than pumping up you power numbers on an indoor trainer.

The second thing I learnt was that despite the pain, the worries about the wardrobe choices and the pain of cleaning bikes, car and kit afterwards, was that I’d really missed riding outside. The view across the valley towards Snowdon from the top of the Llandegla forest was worth the pain in the quads and the cramp in the hands. You’re still not going to catch me out on the road bike much this winter, the local roads are still icy, muddy pothole infested nightmares ruled by maniacs in over stuffed 4×4’s, but regular mountain biking is most definitely worth the effort.

As with everything in life, having a good mix and variety in your riding and training regimes seems to be the key to success, happiness and not feeling like you’ve been in a car crash the day after a ride.

I’ll bring you part 2 after I’ve regained feeling in my legs………..