I rode out to the start of the group ride this morning in the rain. No one was there when I got there so I waited in the rain. Start time came and went and no one showed, so I headed out to see if anyone else would show at the various pick-up points along the route. Not a single soul was waiting. So I did the “group ride” route alone. In the rain.

I mean, I don’t know what was not to like: it was 55F degrees, the wind was blowing 20 mph with higher gusts, and like I mentioned; it was raining the whole time. Perfect day for a training ride.

Being alone and all (didn’t even see another cyclist the whole time I was out) gave me time and solitude to reflect on the details…I mean joys of training in the rain. On the surface, it may appear that training in the wind and rain is pretty much the same as training in the wind (no rain). But appearances can be deceiving. Let me explain.

Refreshment

Just as with any other training ride of more than 1 hour, you’ve got to eat and drink while training in the rain for more than 1 hour. I typically take in 200 calories/hr, either from sandwiches or gels or a combo during the ride. Eating with rain is pretty much the same as without. Drinking, however, is a bit different. In the rain, road grime is constantly being thrown up onto you, your bike, and anything attached to you or your bike. This includes your water bottles.

One of the neat things about drinking from your bottles in the rain is that your intake is augmented by all sorts of new and seldom-ingested nutrients. These nutrients are found in the road grime that encrusts your bottle spout…the part you put into your mouth every few minutes. I’m not sure what nutritional value or benefits can be found in road grime, but one thing is certain: it is damn gritty and tastes like ass.

Because of the grit and ass-taste, I typically attempt some sort of spout wipe maneuver (SWM) before taking a sip each time. The most accessible and “clean” spot is on my jersey under my arm. This is where I start out with the SWM, anyway. I’m pretty sure that my underarm area is not what we’d call a sanitary option to road grime, but at least it’s not gritty. The thing about using a single location for your SWM is that after about 3 times, that area is now just as encrusted with sand and grime as the bottle spout is. So quickly you’re faced with diminishing returns. Other locations for the SWM are soon needed. Improvise. Good luck with that.

Anyway, bottle sips in the mid to latter portions of your ride are invariably accompanied by one or two forceful spits as you work to clear your lips, teeth, tongue, and gums of gritty road grime. Don’t worry about what you’re losing in those spits; surely though the road grime is purged, the road “nutrients” stay behind. The appearance of you wiping your bottle spout on various locations of your anatomy and the occasional eruption of clear or sports-drink-colored mist must to onlookers be pretty hilarious. So it’s win-win.

Apparel & Comfort

When you’re training in the rain, especially in the wind and cold and rain, comfort takes a backseat to…well, discomfort. I typically opt for arm warmers when training in the rain. Some cyclists go with the addition of leggings, but I hate to wear long tights on the bike and opt to display my legs’ glorious nakedness. Whatever you end up wearing, though, know it will within minutes be entirely soaked and, by the end of your ride, covered in road grime (PRO tip: don’t wear your white bib-shorts and best jersey).

For me, the worst part of rain-training discomfort is the sloshy, water-bucket-like sensation from my shoes and the constant squish/suck feeling that embraces my feet throughout the ride. But you gotta deal with it. There is no escaping the sensation so you might as well pretend that it feels good…like walking in wet sand on the beach. Yeah, just like that and not at all like continually stepping in cold, wet dog poop or the unwholesome mud on the edge of a fetid, slimy pond.

After riding for a while in the rain, you’ll likely note the different feeling coming from your chamois area. Each time you stand up to pedal and then sit back on the saddle, there’s a telltale squish and that unfamiliar feeling. Over the next couple hours of your ride, that feeling will become very familiar. Again, it may help to pretend the feeling is from something else. Pretend you’re sitting on the side of a swimming pool…or doing something else where a squish on your anus is pleasant and not at all icky. Yeah, I have no suggestions here.

When you get back home after your ride and if you’ve left your legs bare, you’ll have the most magnificent cyclist’s tan. Before showering, admire yourself in the mirror and note the beautifully razor-sharp lines (especially at the sock line). Note how it’s very PRO-looking and how rugged and devil-may-care you look. Note also that in the shower after a bit of a lather, the magnificently PRO tan will magically wash away. Avoid the temptation to re-examine yourself in the mirror after the shower. Just keep that initial image in your mind.

Bike & Equipment

When you train in the rain, your bike gets pretty trashed. Resign yourself to that fact. Avoid looking down at your bike to note the increasing layers of ugly, gritty, dirty road grime accumulating on the surfaces. Avoid thinking about how that grime is getting into the little crevices and nether regions of the very important and very expensive drive train. Avoid thinking about what damage might be occurring to this $2,000 (or $4,000 or $12,000) bike you bought with your hard-earned money. It was your choice to get out onto the dirty road in a driving rain. All of that grime will just have to wait. Don’t think about it while you’re riding. Go home after and wash the heck outta your bike. Then maybe do it again just to be sure.

Also, if you’re ultra rich and have 2 bikes, ride the lesser of them for training in the rain.

Conclusion

When it’s a ride day I train rain or shine or wind (usually) or cold, so I have plenty of experience riding in the rain…and wind and cold. In my opinion it’s just what you do when you’re training (rather than joy riding). In fact, in summer a rain day can be a pretty welcomed and refreshing change from the sunny, 100F heat here in Texas. Regardless of the temperature, training in the rain brings special joys and requirements that I wish more cyclists could experience. It is sort of disheartening to be out training in mildly uncomfortable weather and see not a single other cyclist doing the same. But then it’s kind of a cool affirmation at the same time.

Don’t miss out on these joys! When it’s time to ride, and the rain and wind are doing their thing, get out and see what you’ve been missing. Some of my best rides have been in the rain. I’ll bet some of yours await there, too. So do it. Maybe tell me about how it went.

I had an inspiring experience today courtesy of one of my riding partners in the group ride this morning. The Sunday group ride with the Texas Flyers is always a good one, but today’s had an interesting twist. The pace, challenge, and company varies a bit each week, but invariably about 40 minutes in there’s a split in the group. Those looking for a faster-paced ride always ride away from the others and there ends up being 2 or more groups for the remainder of the ride.

Today six of us broke away around the usual spot and within 20 minutes two had fallen away. The four of us kicked it up and had fun on the fast descents and rollers in the first part of the course. Aside from myself, there were two Texas Flyers riders and someone I had not seen before. He was keeping pace just fine and that, in addition to the fact that he rode a high quality bike and was sporting good, matching kit, I assumed he was a strong rider. Besides, he looked well trained.

His name is Luke (sp?). We struck up a conversation while recovering after a particularly hard stretch and I noticed his thick Eastern European accent. I asked and he mentioned he was from Romania. He also mentioned that this was only his 5th ride back after a long layoff due to illness. Turned out that his “illness” was having surgery to remove one of his kidneys 3 months ago. I was pretty impressed that he was keeping pace, as cycling in those hills at a fast pace is not something just anyone can do. Especially after a few months layoff after major surgery. He then amazed me a bit more, noting that just last November he broke his neck and suffered other injuries in an auto accident. So 5 months after a major accident, broken neck, followed by having kidney removal surgery, he’s on his 5th ride back and hanging with the fast group (okay, the “faster” group). But wow.

Anyway, the four of us made it out and back through the really tough hills, even having a couple sprints along the way, and folks started peeling off toward their respective homes. Luke had come from the very start of the ride, as had I, so we did the last 8 or so miles by ourselves. It was along there that he added some details to his story. Turns out that while receiving treatment and recovering from his auto accident, the doctors gave him some grave news. They’d discovered cancer. It had destroyed one of his kidneys and they were pretty sure that it was getting into other organs. They’d have to remove the one kidney as a start once he’d recovered from the accident. So he had that surgery this past January.

Later this week Luke goes back to start a battery of tests to try and discern how he’s really doing. As of now, he has no idea what his prognosis is. So he’s out on his bike, gutting it out through the hills in the wind with folks who haven’t recently broken their necks; who haven’t recently had a kidney removed; who are not having to deal with the knowledge that any day could bring devastating news. He has no idea how long he’ll be able to ride a bike, he just knows he can do it today. So that’s what he did.

So then it was my turn to turn off and head toward home and we exchanged farewells. He said he hopes to be back and see me at next week’s ride. I sure hope to see him.

So coming off of a week with the flu, then another with a bum tooth, and then a root canal (whine, whine), I’m working my way back into regular riding with as much vigor as I can manage. Last week I did 170 miles (275 km) and felt pretty good about it. I’m looking forward to more along the lines of 200+ miles (320+ km) per week this spring and summer, but I’ve been agonizing over the wind here lately.

Here’s a look at the conditions during yesterday’s ride:

And this is what I’ll be riding in tomorrow evening:

It has sometimes been easy for me to justify putting off a ride to the following day due to extra-windy conditions, but I’m working to put that behind me. Wind, though it is the bane of all things cycling, is a fact of life; especially for those of us who live in a somewhat windy place on earth. There’s simply no getting around it and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna ride my indoor trainer to hide from a 20 mph wind 5 days a week. That is embarrassing silliness.

More important than this, though, is the fact that it’s not as if I have to ride my bike. In actuality I get to ride my bike, which is something of a privilege and one easy to forget. I’m one of those lucky enough to have the good use of my two legs and in good enough health to be able to push myself in profitable and enjoyable exercise. Not all are so lucky!

Some folks would probably trade anything for the chance to get to run or jump or ride into a stiff headwind just once, or just once more! I get to do something others might kill to do and I think I need to remember that fact more often. Especially when I’m worried about how hard it might be riding into the wind on a training ride.

Cycling is fun, but if I were in it just for the fun I’d trade my road bike for a beach cruiser and ride around the neighborhood at 7 mph, waving and chatting with folks working in their yards. No, I’m not in it just for the fun. Like any good masochis… er, cyclist, I’m in it for the suffering, too. I’m in it for the battle, for the struggle, and for the victory at the end of each day’s effort.

There are few things in life sweeter than emerging on the other side of a hard-fought struggle with one’s life intact; knowing that the discomfort, pain, damage, even physical or emotional agony can be added to the progress and gain side of the scale. It’s called winning. Those of us lucky enough to engage in the daily trials and suffering of training know that we’re every day better than the last. That we are winning every day.

And that’s priceless. Just ask someone who used to be able to do so, but now cannot.

I get to ride. When it’s blowing 20 and 30 mph I get to ride my bike into the teeth of that wind. And I’m a fool and an ingrate if I shrink from it. We all are, if we shrink from it. I need to remember this fact and I hope you might, too.