My winter training plan was going great, until the Internet happened.
I had been building my winter base miles, (whatever that really means, I’m not sure) alternating between suffering mightily and spinning easy while binge watching The Walking Dead. I even made my own training video with some footage I shot during one of the races last year and some other rides around town and tons of heavy metal. (Thats a still from my cockpit-cam above!)
Lots of heavy interval days with light spinning mixed in to keep fresh. I cut out beer during weekdays and dialed down my calorie intake. I was even lifting weights. Gasp!
I was dialing in nicely for the start of the season for me in April. The Old Fat Guys Racing Circuit, the OFGRC for short wouldn’t know what hit it. My legs were getting like two sinewy pillars of power.
Then, I read something really interesting on this Internet thing.
Lets just be clear, any idiot with a fifth-grade reading level can have a blog. Look at me. I aced the fifth grade. A major word of caution here: don’t believe everything you read.
The article I read talked about heart rate training. This guy said essentially that to build aerobic ability and burn fat you need to go 180 minus your age during training and you will notice amazing differences in stamina, weight and your wallet. Anaerobic training (what, I guess I was doing) was BAD. It makes you fat and will give you halitosis. I was hooked. So for two weeks I trained with my heart rate at a consistent 139 BPM. The Walking Dead season four was just released on Netflix. It was perfect storm.
Wow, I felt great. Until, I took the training outside.
I felt like I was 300lbs and my brakes were stuck and my tire was flat. Well, my tire was flat. Really 7 miles in I was sweating like a pig and my tire was empty. So was I. That’s what I get for leaving the training tire on the back. Now, I’m really mad. Change said flat tire and head home. I love riding mad. You go so fast and aggressive.
So, I got home and rethought my training plan. Pain, pain, pain.
139 BPM is OK if you want to fit into your pants but, I want to win or at least not get spit out the back. 180 here I come and I’m mad.