|
|
Tony Tickle's Race Diary...
Now don’t
get me wrong. I’m not some pro cyclist about to regale you with tales
from the continental peloton. I’m actually just a day-jobbing bloke
from Surrey in his forties who started doing evening 10 mile time trials
again about five years ago after a long absence. So, can a reasonably
fit bloke approaching (or already in) middle age hope to match the athletic
performances of his youth? Read on....
First, a bit of background. In my teens I was a pretty good club rider,
achieving personal bests of 23.09 for 10 miles and 58.57 for 25 miles
at the age of seventeen. I subsequently concentrated on road racing before
the inevitable diversions of other interests (playing drums in rock bands,
messing about with cars, going to pubs all the time, etc.) meant I didn’t
have the time or inclination to train properly for racing. So those PBs
stayed untroubled for many years while I just dabbled with the odd ‘10’,
although I could still do 24 or 25 minutes in my early thirties with fairly
minimal riding.
A new dose of enthusiasm took hold after I started having to commute by
bike again (12 miles into central London every day) in the mid-nineties.
A couple of years of that and a test of my new-found fitness resulted
in a 23.24 first time out. Now to say I was astonished is a bit of an
understatement. This was far and away my best time since that 23.09 sixteen
years previously and fired me up with the prospect of getting that extra
15 seconds off.
So I turned up the next week for another go and did exactly the same time.
Ok, try again next week. This time it’s 23.19, my second fastest
ever. Come on, just another 10 seconds needed!
|
|
|
|
The following week
I really nailed it and did a personal best of 23.06. Only fellow amateur
athletes will realise the satisfaction a PB can give you, especially after
so many years. So apologies to anyone else who thinks I’m going on
a bit. We can’t help it you know.
Similar enthusiasm the following year got me another couple of seconds
off, a 23.04. At this point I virtually stopped racing again until about
seven years later. I was checking these dates in my race record trying
to remember why I stopped for so long. It took a while to twig but it
was when we started our family. Other priorities and all that, you know
how it is.
Which brings me to 2005. By this time I was 43 and hadn’t done any
hard racing for seven years. I’d also changed my work patterns and
wasn’t doing long commuting rides every day any more. However, I
was finishing work earlier each day and had more time and inclination
to do evening ‘10’s again so started going out every week from
April with some enthusiasm. The first few months produced no startling
times but I was enjoying riding again and gradually getting faster. And
then out of the blue one night I did a 23.01 for a new PB. Bloody hell,
at my age! This was a real surprise and I started to think I’d been
given a mistaken time when I couldn’t get near it again for the rest
of the season. It didn’t help when disbelieving so called friends
(Andrew and Barry) also thought it was a timekeeper’s cock-up. Who
needs enemies?
I had the last laugh, although it took until a year later. I repeated
my schedule of consistently turning up every week to race and got rewarded
in July with a new PB of 22.52. We were at the pub afterwards, discussing
every pedal turn (as you do) and agreed these times could only be the
result of consistency; or in other words, actually turning up every week
and racing yourself faster. I was happy with that analysis until Andrew
mentioned that there could be another reason why I was achieving faster
times in my mid-forties than when I was a teenager. Sitting there smugly
enjoying the afterglow of my PB I had no qualms that Andrew was about
to shatter my complacency.
“How many seconds have you knocked off your time from 26 years ago?”
Andrew asked.
“Well let’s see. 23.09 whittled down to 22.52. 17 seconds altogether,”
I replied.
“Well that’s not enough to say you’re faster now than you
were then.”
“What are you on about?” I said. “Do the sums.”
“I have. You’re faster, but only by default. It’s all down
to aerodynamics.”
And then the penny dropped. I wanted to throw my drink over him; but I
didn’t, it was my round next. What he was saying was that my improved
speed was down to advances in equipment, not superior ability. And of
course he had a point. As a teenager I had ridden on normal drop handlebars.
These days everyone, including me, achieved a far more aerodynamic position
on the bike by using aero-bars, which made you look like a downhill skier
in a tucked position. My smug satisfaction was hanging by a thread. Did
aero-bars save more than 17 seconds over 10 miles at 26mph?
“Of course they do,” said Andrew, “they save at least half
a minute.”
“They might do at your speed,” I replied sarcastically, “but
I don’t take half an hour to ride 10 miles.”
The air of smugness was migrating across the table and settling on Andrew.
I had to find out just how much time aero-bars were supposed to save you.
The only trouble was I was already fairly convinced it was more than 17
seconds. And so it proved, research and general opinion apparently suggests
that 20 to 30 seconds is saved over 10 miles.
The bubble burst. I was not faster than my younger self. Bugger it.
|
