On Form

Form.  This is what racing cyclists chase.  It is a concept unique to competition.  A recreational cyclist never talks about his "form".  He talks about how "in shape" he is, or how he "feels" during a ride; the concept of "form" doesn't exist for someone who doesn't race.  "Form" is so much more than a measurement of pure fitness.  It encompasses the whole range of competitive skills, including fitness, but more important than that, it refers to the athlete's competitive fire, the certainty that he will be competitive in a race, the urgency he feels to compete.

A bike racer who is not on good form fears the race.  He goes into it begrudgingly, as if someone is forcing him.  He goes through the motions and rides at the back, fearing the inevitable moment he is dropped.  Inevitable because he knows that at some point, he will drop, so he will.  He is apathetic.  Everyone around him has better fitness.  Everyone has been training more hours.  Everyone is more talented.

When a bike racer is on good form, nothing can stop him.  He takes chances.  He goes off the front, not just because it is his style of racing and he's just plugging his calling card, but because he believes he can win with the attack.  He enters the sprint looking for gaps to move up, rather than trying to keep out of people's way.  Up a steep pitch, if he can't keep pace, he doesn't stop pedaling, but starts calculating, knowing his body intimately, measuring his efforts to recover before the back of the field passes so he is not dropped.

But most importantly, form suggests strength.  Raw power, combined with the winning mindset.  Where instead of dragging yourself to a training ride, you have to force yourself to rest.  You are not panicking that others are training more than you.  You are enjoying your rise in strength and have to use your rational mind to check yourself from overexertion.

The last couple weeks at Alpenrose.  The Tuesday before on the solo breakaway.  The weekend time trial before that.  I was getting good results but I didn't really feel good.  I didn't feel like I was training appropriately.  I wasn't feeling like I was on good form.  Yesterday, at the hilly Silverton Road Race, the one race that has consistently kicked my ass, the race I've raced twice and never finished with the pack and last year didn't even finish... I not only finished but I placed in the top 15.  Now, normally I don't get too excited at anything out of the top 10, but this race is a different beast from the races I normally contest.  The accelerations that would normally kick me off the back; the hills that would gradually grind my legs to cramping, quivering sticks of meat - didn't.  Not that day.  I sprinted uphill at the finish.  The 50-some-odd miles seemed short.  If somebody handed me another waterbottle, I could've raced another lap.

On form.  I can magically climb.  I can magically time trial.  And I can still sprint.  Time to see what's down the rabbit hole.