Dancing with the Computrainer
By JR
It's much darker and colder than I imagined as we head out at an hour that used to find dragging ourselves back from a night of dancing and celebrating the entrance into yet again another weekend. Didn't seem to matter that the weekend happened continually and like clockwork after 5 days of work or study, it was always there and for some reason in your twenties and a bit in your thirties it meant staying out till the dawn of the new day. Now the pre-dawn hours mean something very different. It means getting up to do some sort of work out. However, it is winter here and since it is now bitterly cold, so cold that even the heartiest of people look towards the comfort of a basement to ride or run indoors on indoor equipment that is supposed to simulate the terra-firma we normally use, this is how we now begin our weekends.
For me it means driving to my local club shop at an hour that seems more nocturnal that it had a few months prior. The windy bitter temperatures do not help the strong thoughts that I might have been happier to remain in a warm bed. However, clothed in several layers and in the car there is no turning back. Once there we arrive to find that our bikes are on their stands and they look much readier than we are to attempt what looks like an EKG of a person going through the throes of withdrawal from meth, staring back at us from the large screen. There are peaks that seem much higher than I want to really do and rest periods that are much smaller than I would find comfortable, but nothing great is achieved without some suffering and work, at least that is what I've been told and keep telling myself.
Riders mumbled good mornings, on occasion one or two seem wide awake and shatter the internal grumbling of others. We have been told to ride, warm up the computrainer and calibrate. All simple instructions that are meant to prepare the machine to make you work harder than you might otherwise. Calibrated the leader of the group clarifies what we visually see on the large screen. He tells us what to expect and how to bail if we need to, I assume that means if we feel so spent that the only alternative would be to have a heart attack, faint or throw up. A movie is chosen, Ipods are readied, fans are on and blowing, water bottles are in cages, lights are dimmed and the ride is on.
My legs initially feel tired. I glance up at the screen and think, NOWAY! I can stop short half way. The warm up continues and we move into our first set of peaks. My legs feel heavy but settle into some sort of rhythm or I think they do and I start to feel my heart race up but I concentrate on the speed I have been told I should maintain in order to make the workout beneficial. Rest. some panting and much sweat. I am thankful for the relaxation that came with the end of interval but then much sooner than I would like, speeds are ramped up, and we are on again. Like the ceaseless weekend it comes again right on time and with plenty of warning. It seems no matter what the length of the interval, it is much tooo long to complete but then it's over.
At the end of the first set my legs feel better. I begin to gain internal confidence that I could finish the workout. But approaching the third set my mind begins to question the validity of my prior assumption. ARE YOU KIDDING! My legs seem to scream out at me. My heart says, NO FREAKING WAY! I am dripping and coated in my own sweat and can't seem to catch up on liquids. Granted I have never been one to drink a lot but I seem to produce the same amount of sweat that a foreign legion sailor would working on a Mediterranean ship in the middle of a heat wave! Or a louisiana shrimper working in some bayou in the middle of July. Are the fans even ON?! Stupid this is! I could just go down in watts. I could just unplug or just stop, fein an injury... or maybe not fake since body parts DO hurt!
But the weekend is upon me again and the interval is on, I claw to stay within the speed range for the interval, as soon as I see it begin to drop I fight the urge to give in to the pressure I feel against my pedals, I could just let go and let myself be carried down into the river and relax, but I don't. I fight to hang in between the perfect speed range, in order to gain the future benefit of this cruel workout. I pedal just a little harder. I feel my breath coming out ragged and I can't help but hear my own grunts over the movie and over my on headphones. I glance at the screen, as someone calls out how much time is left. OMG!! There is just NO WAY I can finish this. Check my speed, barely there, push a little more, my heart is going to explode, I keep trying to turn my pedals, time... how much... it seems to be caught in some sort of quantum physics alternative space where it is ssslllowed down... and then it is over... my legs feel like they have no form, just filled with some sort of spongy jelly. But jelly that is on FIRE! I feel like a fish out of water trying to catch as much oxygen as I can.
I can't see with all the sweat that is stingy my eyes, but with a few more pedal strokes I begin to recover. I force myself to stand to help my legs and body feel movement. I still have two more intervals to do. Or do I? I could stop/bail dare I say it... quit. I've seen others do it. I can stop too. I pedal and in a minute I feel recovered enough that maybe another set won't be bad? How much could it hurt? And the weekend is BACK! MISTAKE, I think and feel big mistake was made, I should have bailed, I should have stopped, I should have quit. But is this just my head and body fighting the urge to not feel some discomfort. I am truly not in such pain that I really should stop, it is pain but not unexpected pain. Remaining time is called out, I look at my speed... hold on... hold on... pedal, turn... hold the F#$KON!!! And you lose it with 20 maybe 30 seconds left. DAMN IT!
The rest period is met with dissatisfaction on your part. Why couldn't you hold on... I will have my revenge, as if the Computrainer is a soul-filled challenger, instead of a machine. Doesn't matter, next set is up and you force yourself to finish it. Again breathing becomes a luxury. But the realization that you finished the peaks and valleys on the screen without unplugging or stopping and only for a short mishap on one, you finished it.
My legs feel liquefied, my heart is on what feels like borrowed time, but finally my breathing is beginning to slow. I am soaked and now the fans feel like someone made them into high powered a/c units, I begin to chill but the feeling that I finished the session gives me a feeling of such satisfaction that it's like requesting a favorite song for the DJ to play and he does, you dance and the weekend is complete!
