Lessons for a Newbie Cyclist

As much as last weekend’s initiation into bike-geekdom made me feel like I knew everything I needed to about bicycles, it turns out that the proof is in the pedaling. This week’s rides have made a few more things clear, and more than anything I know that there's always more to know.

1. Use the Gears

My legs have been slowly getting stronger in the last several months, and instead of sticking to the granny gears that once salvaged my muscles if not my pride I’ve begun to base my cycling self-worth on riding in ever lower, more difficult gears. Though invisible to outsiders, it feels like a major accomplishment to complete a gradual ascent in a gear that had grown rusty from disuse, and climbing a modest hill without moving my chain makes me feel almost as cool as the single-speed kids.

As it turns out, though, this is only good to a point. Yes, there’s a lot of efficiency to gain if you can pedal harder and lift your legs a little less often, but to protect the knees and gain longer-term endurance, strenuous pushing isn’t as cool as I thought. The ideal pace, I learned from my friend and cycling-guru Dan, is 60-80 RPM, meaning that you’re pumping up and down just over once per second. The slow, hard hill-climbing bursts use up anaerobic energy and wear out your muscles, and should be reserved for cyclefit classes that you’re planning to walk home from.

2. No Glove, No Love

It wasn’t long ago that I thought that fingerless leather cycling gloves were a trademark reserved for the harder-core-than-thou set, but my first good wipeout of the season left little doubt as to their usefulness. My radial head fracture last year should have been enough to remind me of a key point in human defense: when you fall, you fall on your hands. Of course, I never go out assuming I’m going to fall, so it was only through a combination of luck and unseasonably cold weather that I happened to be wearing gloves when I toppled over a curb with a steep hill’s worth of momentum.

With a tear in my thin winter gloves I was happy not to have on my hands, and a crack in my helmet I’m happy not to have in my head, I am now willing to concede, unconditionally, that protection=good.

3. Shoes Matter

I’d never considered the idea that foot fatigue would be a problem on a bicycle. I mean, you’re sitting down, right? Still, I’m realizing that I should have heeded the sound advice of Bicycle Jack: “it’s worth it to make an extra investment at the points where your skin meets the machine.” After 90 minutes of riding with my flimsy Chuck Taylors, the tender tendons in my arches are letting me know that I might need to look into something sturdier before heading out on a multi-day trek.

4. If It Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It

As excited as I was about learning to fix my bike last Friday, my main lessons were that my bike was already in pretty good shape, and that knowing how to do something isn’t the same as being able to do it well. I’ve spent the last week asserting that my DIY tune-up had done wonders for my bike, and the stiffer riding was only because the tires needed air. However, after a little air and a long ride, I can safely say that I’ve thrown a few things out of whack that were perfectly fine before. For one, I seem to have traded a dysfunctional front derailleur for a finicky back one. Good thing I now know how to fix it!