Bjorn Dahle Days

Late season resistance training. Just add ice.

The frozen signs of a solid Bjorn Dahle day.

Training on a bike outside this time of year can be an adventure, particularly if you live in the mountains like I do. When the weather turns bad like it often does around here this time of year, suiting up and getting after it requires dedication and a certain amount of masochistic pleasure in being uncomfortable while training. Today was one of those days.

My friends who fancy themselves nordic skiers in the off season like to tell a story about one of the greatest skiers of all time, Bjorn Dahle. It seems this multiple world and olympic champion was fond of training in the most dismal conditions. He felt that he was typically the only guy out on these days and this would give him a distinct advantage over his fellow competitors. Training like this made him the hard man that he was and allowed him to persevere through any race condition.  So, now I call these types of training conditions "Bjorn Dahle days." 

Today wasn't particularly cold at 34 degrees. Nothing to write the great Norwegian about. It had been spitting snow on and off all day but was dry when I started layering up. When I opened the door to leave, however, it was snowing steadily. Okay, maybe Bjorn would give a little smirky smile. This turn required a switch of machines and shoes as I prefer my fendered single speed when things get sloppy. I have some sweet high-top Sidi winter cyclocross boots that are warm and furry inside and are extra toasty with a neoprene booty over the top. The final requirement is a cycling cap under my ski hat to fend off the dumping snow. The precipitation still builds up on my eye glass lenses but there is a small window just below the brim that keeps visibility reasonable.

As I headed down the road the snow fall increased to where I was frequently wiping it from my glasses. You know it's dumping when the little space at your crotch just above the tip of the saddle fills with snow. The build up kept sluffing off my shoulders every couple of minutes. Passing motorists would slow and rubber neck to see who this idiot was apparently training in seriously inclement conditions. The capper was the point when a car pulled off onto the shoulder in front of me and rolled down her window. As I passed she flagged me down so I stopped. She told me that I could put my bike on her rack and she we take me to where I was headed. Sweet lady, kinda cute. I just smiled and told her I was actually training on my bike and, if I got into her car I would no longer be doing so. She said something about me being hard core and I thanked her and rode off laughing to myself, imagining Dahle nodding his head in approval.

The snow let up soon there after and I rode out to my turn around point. From that moment on I rode into a cooling headwind with darkness close on my heels. With the fading light went the above freezing temps and the road spray began freezing on my bike. Fairly entertaining until I tried my single front brake at an intersection and had nothing. I squeezed harder while thinking of ways to dump it before I went into cross traffic. My iced up brake finally gave with a loud crack and started grabbing just in time. Maybe I should put the cantilevers back on.

Anyway, I didn't see anyone else out training this evening but I did see a couple of commuters riding home. They gave an enthusiastic, triumphant fist in the air as we passed, celebrating the shared experience of riding in such conditions. What bad asses we were, right? Or just stupid. Either way, it was one less day on the trainer and another day closer to the first race of the upcoming season. Can't wait! - Brian

Comments

[Editor Remarks]

Brian,
First I must apologize for the uncharacteristic delay in a timely editorial response to your blog entry. I know these reviews and reflections give you a sounding board from which you not only have been honing your writing skills, but also introspecting. Having not shared any previous responses with your readership, I do have some trepidation in opening my thoughts to a public discussion. As it were, I feel that this amounts to "handy-camming" a Freudian psychotherapy consultation, but by your encouragement, we will breach this otherwise HIPPA violation. I find it fascinating that you have covered this much personal ground over the last few short months of your blog. What initially amounted to insidious "read between the lines" innuendo has gracefully matured. Invoking a strong and openly gay male role model, and going the distance in describing him as "hard", has brought you to a new frontier of personal insight and forthcoming. As many in your readership may already know, Bjorn Dahle had many personal demons, of which his gayness was not one. His love for the Scandinavian bath houses was legendary, and beautiful snow-flakey winter sweaters adorning New Yorkers in JH-style holiday attire still bear his namesake and his flair for mountain couture. Brian, this blog was, I think, a breakthrough for you. Regardless, I must point out some of your persisting literary inadequacies, as you fall back on unfortunately familiar soliliquisms and habits. Fourth paragraph, second sentence: "...the little space at your crotch just above the tip..." is perhaps a bit of a graphic reference, no? What's more, I find it overwhelming to re-read this sentence as you have it prefaced, with the defacatory slang, "dumping." It's too much. However and overall, Brian, Bravo! for opening up and bringing us a true taste of your insight and progress. As always, your faithful editor and consultant. PS: please send more Laphroig with rewrites.