Tag: cycling

  • The Point Is Not Dribbling Into My Soup

    July was a break month. I called it “movement, not measurement” — no calorie counting, no chasing numbers, no obsessing over pace or distance. Instead, it was about moving because I wanted to, not because I had to. And it worked.

    There were plenty of walks, a few gym sessions, and a lot of time spent with family. Camping, holidays, and just enjoying being Dad. And yet, even with the lighter approach, July gave me one of the biggest breakthroughs of the summer: I realised my rowing form was wrong. For months I’d been driving off my toes instead of my heels, which explained the knee pain I’d been ignoring. With heel wedges and a focus on connection, I started the awkward process of re-learning how to row. It felt strange, disconnected, even underpowered, but it was a step in the right direction.

    August was tougher. Coming back, I was hit by frustration: sore knees, comfort eating, a few pounds up on the scale, and the voices in my head louder than they’d been in a long time. The ones that say, “What’s the point? Stop now.” But in the middle of that I found an answer: the point is not becoming an old man dribbling into my soup ruing the day i decided to stop moving. The point is staying strong, independent, and capable.

    So I kept going. Rebuilding form on the rower. Long, hilly rides on the bike — including a brutal 112 km in rain, wind, and navigational mishaps that turned into a bigger ride than planned. No coffee stops, soaked to the skin, but proud I stuck it out. That cup of tea at the end tasted like a medal.

    By the end of the month, structure was back. Gym sessions, meditation rows when my head was scattered, and one big endurance block: two × 45 minute blocks on the rower with a 20-minute bike in between. Over 21 km rowed in total, despite being under the weather. Proof that the base fitness is still there.

    So here we are at the start of September. July gave me the space to reset. August gave me the chance to face setbacks head-on and still move forward. Now it’s time to sharpen things again — with a 120 km ride on the horizon and the 150 km event at the end of the month. And beyond that, the Sub-7 Experiment continues.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Wind, Rain, and a Bit More Than Planned

    I didn’t want to ride.
    Not the day before, and certainly not when I woke up to wind, wet roads, and low cloud. But with the big event seven weeks away, I asked Coach GPT for a ruling. And the verdict was to get out and ride.

    The plan was 100 km with 1,200 m of climbing. Within the first 10 km I was soaked through. It wasn’t heavy rain, just that fine mist that finds its way into everything. I told myself, “Get to 30 km, grab a coffee, and decide then.”

    No coffee. The coffee man wasn’t even there. Same story at the next stop another 30 km later, no van, plenty of rain, and now a howling wind.

    The route planner then decided to spice things up, sending me off the main road and straight into a muddy cornfield. I turned back, found my way around, and later discovered I’d added an extra 12 km to the ride.

    By the time I got home, I was wiped out but quietly proud. The new gears and brakes are working brilliantly, the bike felt solid, and that post-ride cup of tea? Best I’ve ever made.

    This is the temporarily, navigationally challenged Sub-7 Experiment.

  • A Tough Day Out, but I’m Glad I Did It

    Just back from a tough but rewarding ride; 75km out and back, with 1,220 meters of climbing. No loops, no shortcuts, just there and back, with a headwind all the way home. It was tougher than I remembered: the kind of ride that demands your full attention, your legs, and most of your patience.

    What made a real difference this time was the fueling. I spent yesterday making banana flapjacks and cheesy eggy rice cakes (shout-out to ChatGPT for the recipes and fuelling strategy). They worked. I didn’t feel nearly as wrecked as I normally do on a ride like this. I still had something left at the end. I probably could’ve used more water, but I stopped about two-thirds through yo top up my bottles and to see me home.

    The legs are well and truly cooked now, but in that good, earned way. Possibly not helped by Thursday’s 135kg leg presses, probably not the smartest prep, but lesson learned.

    This was my longest ride of the year, and while it wasn’t easy, I’m pleased with it. There’s satisfaction in pushing through, seeing that distance logged, and knowing you got it done.

    So that’s today’s entry in the Sub-7 Experiment—which, as I keep discovering, is about far more than rowing. It’s about effort. Growth. Trying. Failing. Learning. And showing up again tomorrow.

  • From “Only Here” to “Already Here”

    I went for a ride on the bike yesterday—60km all in—and it felt great.
    What really struck me was the shift in mindset. I kept recognising where I was and thinking, “Oh, I’m here already” instead of “Oh, I’m only here.” Just a small difference in words and thoughts, but a massive one in terms of progress.

    I really gelled with the bike. Getting a proper bike fit and a new saddle was such a good call. Not just because I’m now physically connected to the bike, but because it actually saved me a load of cash.

    I’d been eyeing up new bikes—maybe a gravel bike, an “adventure” bike, or a racier road model. Something exciting.
    But the bike fit brought me back to the 11-year-old Giant I already own. And now? It feels like new. It’s as exciting to ride as I hoped it would be when I first bought it all those years ago.

    I probably could’ve gone further than 60km yesterday, but I surprised myself by deciding it was a good place to stop. I didn’t push past “great ride” into “slog”—and that feels like progress, too.

    I’ve got a 150km ride scheduled for September. In past long rides, I made rice cakes from a cycling nutrition book. To be honest, I couldn’t face them again. So before the ride, I asked ChatGPT for fuelling strategies and a few recipe ideas.

    I tried one of its banana oat bar suggestions, and aside from a few flavour tweaks and a more refined fuelling schedule, they worked really well.

    This is good.
    I’m pleased with how the bike is performing. I’m pleased with how I’m performing. And the rowing is complementing the cycling beautifully.

    It’s going to be a good summer—training to break the 7-minute rowing barrier and getting ready for that 150km.

    This is the Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Dialing in the Ride

    I’m lucky enough to own two bicycles.

    One is a ten-year-old carbon-framed beauty with super nice wheels—it looks great, rides fast, and I love it.

    The other? A budget-friendly bike from a well-known French sporting chain. I bought it as a winter bike—something I could slap mudguards on and ride in all weathers without worrying about it. I figured if I ever crashed, at least I wouldn’t be watching an expensive piece of carbon fiber shatter into a million pieces.

    Here’s the weird thing…

    According to Strava, I set more personal bests on the cheaper, heavier bike.

    Meanwhile, when I’m on the expensive one, I feel like I’m hammering it, but the numbers don’t reflect it. It didn’t make sense.


    The Bike Fit Revelation

    A good friend has been telling me for years to get a professional bike fitting.

    I resisted.

    To my untrained eye, it seemed like a case of paying someone to adjust my saddle height—something I could figure out myself with a bit of trial and error, right?

    Wrong.

    I finally gave in and booked a bike fitting. It was a fantastic experience.

    The morning started with:
    Body measurements—measured against the bike setup
    Injury history & pain assessment—what aches, imbalances, or old injuries might be affecting my riding?
    Mobility tests—walking up and down the studio while the fitter analyzed my gait and flexibility

    And that was before we even touched the bike.


    Cleat Position: The Foundation of Everything

    Before we even looked at saddle height, we spent 30 minutes on my left shoe alone.

    Not just adjusting the cleat position but making sure that:
    ✅ I was comfortable on the pedals
    ✅ My foot placement allowed for optimal power transfer
    ✅ Everything felt natural and stable

    Then, I started pedaling.

    Cameras in front, behind, and from the side captured my riding position. These were plugged into a laptop where the fitter analyzed:
    Leg angles & hip tilt
    Arm position & reach
    Pressure distribution on the saddle

    Every tweak—seat height, fore/aft positioning, bar height, even tilt adjustments—was measured, discussed, and refined.

    One of the biggest changes? Moving the handlebars down.

    I’d always assumed, with my long torso and monkey arms, that I’d need the bars higher for comfort.

    Nope.

    Lowering the bars made a massive difference.


    Post-Fit Struggles: Where’s My Power?

    There was only one problem.

    Changing my position and connection to the bike made it feel like I had no power in my legs.

    This is expected. Even the pros experience this after a bike fit adjustment—the body needs time to adapt. The only solution?

    Get out and ride.


    Today’s Ride: Strange, but Good

    So that’s what I did.

    It was a beautiful spring morning—not too warm, not too cold, blue sky, crisp air. Perfect cycling weather.

    I did my usual 22K loop230m of climbing, 57 minutes total.

    It felt weird.

    But also really good.

    This was only my third ride since the fit, and already, I feel stronger, more comfortable, and more stable.

    One thing became clear—I have a massive leg imbalance.

    The fitter reckoned if I had a power meter, it would show a 25% / 75% power split left-to-right.

    The fix? Conscious effort.

    A tip from the fitter:
    🚴‍♂️ On climbs, count 20 pedal strokes per leg.
    🚴‍♂️ Focus on the left leg, then switch to the right.
    🚴‍♂️ Repeat.

    By actively engaging both legs, I should rebalance the power output.

    More saddle time will bring back the power.

    I hope.

    But today was a win.

    Great to be out.
    Great to do something different.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.