Way back when I lived by myself, I used to cycle quite a lot (to work, into town, through the vineyards, etc). I lived in a very hilly place and I could cycle to work and back without getting off and pushing.
I now live (almost) in Berlin. Berlin is flat. The same way Holland is flat. The only hills that exist are man-made, full of rubble from the war. Because that’s obviously the best thing to do with rubble. Pile it up and cover it with grass. Maybe Silbury Hill is an ancient version of the same idea.
I have started cycling to work here. On the way there’s a bridge with a very long, very gentle incline. Just a couple of metres over quite a long stretch of road. 1-in-100 or even 1-in-50 is not steep by anyone’s reckoning. There have been days when I fought so much I actually contemplated getting off and pushing. There’s nothing like failing to cycle up an almost nonexistent hill to make you feel the need to get fitter..
I picked my bike up from the workshop on Wednesday.
They’d had to replace the front wheel and realign the back wheel and adjust the brakes and do something technical with the gears.
I asked them to explain what had broken in the dynamo and how I could avoid breaking it again.
My understanding of the ensuing explanation is as follows. It may or may not be an accurate representation of what they actually said.
The axel was slightly off centre which lead to unequal distribution of pressure/weight/something which lead to the metal walls of the dynamo straining and eventually breaking, which lead to everything coming loose.
It appears that these things just kind of happen…
…but that most people notice earlier.
I thought that was odd, and said so, because I’d brought it in the day after it died…
… except apparently it’s been dying for several hundred km.
He was amazed that I’d cycled it so far without realising that there was a problem. He showed me the pieces of the broken dynamo, and the pieces of a new one. The difference was incredible.
Not as incredible as the difference having a new wheel made to my perceived fitness the next morning tho!
I’d struggled to get to work in under 40 minutes and reach an average speed of anything above 11kph.
On Thursday I was there in 30, with an average of more than 14. And it was windy and snowing.
I was amazed.
I was also amazed (and a bit confused) to realise that my rowing machine was no longer set to the easiest setting. I have zero recollection of changing it so I have no idea how long I’ve been using it like that.
It reminds me of mistakenly skiing down a black slope and wondering why I was suddenly so prone to falling over..
2 thoughts on “On making things harder for myself”
Congrats, you are fitter than you thought – a pleasant finding, given that you don’t recall having to do all the hard work to get there.
Hmm.. it’s still all seems like hard work.. but I guess at least it’s hard for a reason other than pure unfitness.. 🙂 I have a loooong way to go before I can start to think of myself as fit