So I entered the world of biking (or the indoor training
equivalent for the non-bike owner) for a solid two weeks. I already want out.
Don’t get me wrong, I love biking and I’ve been an avid biker since my first
set of hot wheels at age three. In fact, my favorite summer was the one I spent
in Boulder on my 29er mountain bike hauling my injured self up mountains, windy
passes, and rocky trails.
 |
| Post Independence Pass Climb (35 miles with 3,100 ft of elevation gain). Not going to lie, this was amazing. |
But do you know what else
is amazing?
 |
| A 5:30 AM Rancho Park 13 Mile Trail Run |
And unfortunately, I can’t do that right now. There is zero
chance I could get to the top of that 1,200 ft hill right now. I can’t even
walk down the stairs. I couldn’t even scale to the top of the daunting 40-meter
hill on my flat 10 mile run on two cups of coffee this morning.
Now even though my quads feel like they got bit from
stationary bike venom, I understand that there is a learning curve to biking.
In a few weeks that feeling will probably subside on the off chance that I
didn’t over train from this biking and running combo. Pain is temporary. But do
you know what lasts forever? Hulking, one thousand pound quads. I’m only
halfway there—maybe 500 pound quads at the moment; however, in this half-limbo
state I already feel slower. There’s a reason why elite runners don’t bike
consistently. Try hauling those quads over 13.1 or 26.2 miles or even just a
5k. The physics just aint happening.
Now for the best part of this biking rant: the equipment. To
start, you don’t just need a bike. You need a bike rack, an aero helmet, pedals,
shoes, speedometer/power meter, aero bars, and for a busy med student like me,
an indoor trainer. That doesn’t even include the bike. But when you buy a bike
do you realize that you are only buying a half a bike? Yeah, those wheels, they
are no good. In order to actually compete you need aero wheels.
The cost. Dear god. Where do I start? Walk into a bike store
and you are always buying an inferior bike. Supposedly, someone is always going
to ride faster than you because their crankset weighs 0.5 ounces less. And not
only that, but I guarantee you the person is definitely going to tell you about
their expensive crankset. And all about their slow PRs. Now if only I could
tell them the truth-- 0.5 ounces is small meat compared to the meat on their
abdomen. If only they rode more and talked less that whole meat issue might be
solved.
The last issue is safety. On my run this morning, I was on a
back road listening to music and unfortunately crossed the street without
looking over my shoulder. It was stupid. I narrowly avoided an oncoming car. It
was a product of being in the moment of my run and Lady Gaga; however, if that
happened on a bike, I would not be sitting here. I know too many friends and
athletes who have been seriously injured on the bike, some from stupid
decisions like my own, and several from fluke, unavoidable accidents. Every day
at Duke I ran the Sally Meyerhoff fitness loop. From stories that I’ve heard
she was an incredible person—spunky, bright, full of energy, and loving. Her
tragedy sheds light on the importance of bike safety and highlights the danger
of unlucky bike accidents.
Now some might say I am fickle for abandoning this grand
plan of racing duathlons. I don’t care. For me, happiness is running like the
wind, not against the wind on an out and back ten-miler. I’m not sure at the
moment what running races I will use to replace the duathlons, but I am excited
to be fast and to feel competitive.
Also, I probably just saved five grand. That is a lot of frozen
yogurt.
