Cycling's Combative Mindset - A Search

Why does performance vary so much? I think it's psychological.


Sometimes I can sprint with good technique and speed, other times I sprint in a laconic fashion with a slower and lower turn of speed. Sometimes I go on a hard attack, full-on, determined to make it last - other times it's a half-hearted attempt. Sometimes the climb excites me and every pedal stroke makes me feel like a happy hound chasing a cat! Yet sometimes, I'm plain bored.


I reckon it's got to do with a state of psychological arousal, the sort when you're biting the handle bar dashing for the line - tongue out, crazy smile, and a cadence of 178 rpm. At least that's how I find it. In my Karate days, I remember that every trophy or medal I won was preceded by training under a combative mindset. Every strike, every move, every physical and mental initiation was made with the sole intent of landing a decisive strike. That combative simulation easily induced a high level of psychological arousal. You could feel it! The tunnel vision and hearing, heart pounding, every limb and nerve twitching to respond to the slightest opening - and that intense focus!


But cycling is different. You can't conjure an image of ramming your fellow racer. Competition and victory is indirectly won through crossing the finish line. You cannot inflict symbolic death, and the absence of this mortal component does not facilitate the do-or-die mentality. In fact, risking it all for that one decisive blow is foolhardy in cycling. Seasoned cyclists know that going hard early on a long climb is silly, as is sprinting early or attacking from the get-go. It requires patience and cunning - drafting the right wheel, forming breaks and cooperating.


In psychological terms, this requires you to simultaneously attend to multiple stimuli: the other racers, the number of laps or kilometers remaining, how you feel, to break or not to break and so on. It requires a certain patience, tranquility and detachment that doesn't encourage an aggressive, combative mindset. Fight-or-flight is a primordial, evolutionary instinct. Moving faster than the next guy isn't. Perhaps I am simply unaccustomed to sports without that mindset. The only visceral imagery I've successfully employed for cycling is beating one other racer across the line by a slim margin. It excites me, but it only works when I'm not exhausted.


My friends in Australia and Singapore all find my progress and endurance remarkable. One said "I don't think you realise you strong you are. You're like Jens Voigt", the super domestique who continues to astound the cycling world with his performance - even though he's 40! Perhaps it's a matter of experience and confidence. I could use a coach who can 'rubber stamp' my capabilities. Cycling does not have a structured and graded learning system akin to belts in Karate. It's hard to create a learning checklist and say "Ok, today I've learnt how to sprint. Tomorrow I learn how to climb" etc. It's like taking a shot in the dark - you feel the gun recoil, you hear it's report, and maybe you hear the bullet striking something. It feels good, but you have no idea what you hit. Maybe your carbon bike has a scratch now! In fact, my shot in the dark threw me into the face of a mountain on a technical descent and yes, the scratches are there!


So what have I learnt from trying? I learnt that long-term goals are essential because they guide your training, but short-term skill build-ups are hard to specify. That means I effectively know where I want to go, but I don't really know how to get there. I have had coaches before. Only one really helped me grow and he's since returned to New Zealand. I'm not quite sure what to do at the moment except to follow the same training plan at a more intense and challenging level. That will have to suffice for now.


But one thing I do know: I love cycling, I love my bike, I love the roads and the mountain ranges and the thrill of a criterium! I won't stop cycling, because I love cycling in-itself. It's become my lifestyle, a part of who I am, and I'll never give it up!