Sub-Story
Just finished up reading "We Might As Well Win", the true story of how Johan Bruynell led two different riders, Lance and Alberto, to Tour de France fame, supposedly without the aid of performance enhancing drugs. I'm not a literary critique, so I won't offer any commentary as to how well the book was written. But for me, a person whose TdF viewing was limited solely to snippets shown on Sports Center, it offered up enough light entertainment to distract me from the seemingly never-ending endurance rides done perched upon the trainer.
While I whipped through the book at pace that paralleled the speed of my whirling pedal strokes, most of what I read went into my brain and then flowed right through just as if it was water passing through a sieve. But there was one nugget that proved to be meaningful enough to lodge itself more permanently. Before Johan embarked on leading others to cycling greatness, he had modest success competing as a professional cyclist. He never had the genetics to put him into the elite category, yet despite competing against far more gifted riders, Johan was able to win a few big races and stages (even holding TdF's yellow jersey for a day), and he proved himself to be an invaluable teammate.
Given my own middle of the pack genetic make-up, you can imagine that the sub-story of Johan's cycling career held my interest long after the sweat had dried from my trainer work-out.
Playing Chess and Riding a Bike
While I'd like to think that I have at least a slightly above average intellect, a race official's starting whistle consistently acts as an off switch for my brain. Once the race is underway, there's very little of what I'd call intelligent thought going through my brain; any processing cycles are of the more primative kind. I am aware that I am in a race, on a road (usually) with lots of twists and turns, ups and downs, and there are people swarming around me.
I process all of that information and react to it just as stampeding gazelle would. How do I best react to what I see to use up as little energy as possible to safely get me to the grasslands ahead of us without falling victim to the cheetahs and lions lurking on the perimeter? I'm making quick decisions in response to the situation I find myself in; myopically focused on that precise moment in time. No forethought as to how a decision now might impact the rest of the race, and no historical information collection adding to what might have been already lodged deep in my brain to the point it was almost instinctual.
By contrast, Johan raced as if he was the Deep Blue chess-playing computer system. While truly elite Grandmasters could still beat Deep Blue back in the 90s, the Gigabytes of available information armed the system with enough decision-making input to pick off all but the best of competitors. Johan raced with his brain as much, if not more, than with his brawn. He studied every nook and cranny of the race course before the whistle blew; he constantly scanned the pack making mental notes of how each of the racers he saw were performing throughout the race; and he knew exactly who was in the break away and after considering a few key factors could instantly, and with amazing precision, predict if and when that break would become a threat. Even while the pace of the pack eased and his body could rest, his brain was racing, taking in what he observed, and continually evaluating the next three or four moves that might get him closer to a checkmate.
So in addition to all of the training I'm putting my body through this winter to help me compete as a newly minted Cat 3 in March, I'm wondering if it is possible start training my brain to stay in the "on" position to help close that gap genetics already opened up between me and the lead 3s.
Perhaps I can start within a few winter group rides, not to get a competitive advantage against friends and teammates, but just to begin to learn to use my noggin while riding (I can already chew gum while riding!). Normal group rides for me are led by someone else much more familiar with the area, so my brain is normally in complete relax mode, unburdened with the need to pay attention to anything but the essential safety warnings. Maybe I need to test my powers of observation on such rides, and then jotting them down afterwards to incent the brain from slipping into "off" mode.
While I'll likely give it a try, I'm still wondering if the pressures of an actual race effort, when my legs will be coursing with lactic acid and my lungs ablaze with fire, will force my brain to shut down any ways. Perhaps I haven't been lazy in not remaining mentally engaged during races, but rather, the course and competition are so challenging that there's just no spare energy left in reserve to keep the brain running in addition to the body?
And it still remains to be seen as to whether or not all of my hard work will get me to a point where the gap between me and those far more gifted than me would be closed by adding brain power to the mix. Its quite possible that if I can train my brain this winter, I'll be playing chess by myself come race day as the grand-masters leave me behind. An active brain might result in more informative race reports posted here, but I'm pretty sure you might find the write-ups from someone alone and off the back pretty boring!
