Fart

Theresia, Lukas, Viktor, Lasse. The dog didn't come riding with us.

A lot of people are saying that a good statistician can make a graph say anything they want it to say.  Onkel Olav and I have gotten our kicks for many years looking at former Seawolf Viktor Brännmark's graphs, maps and tables on his website. We can see how long it takes him to rollerski around Frösön and we can see how high his heart rate goes during a hillbounding interval workout at Kanisbacken. But it was one of Viktor's most recent graphs that has more personal interest for me. Here it is:

As you can see, his workout time is displayed on the x-axis. And the y-axis is not what you think. It's actually his velocity. You may notice that just past the 2:23 mark, when velocity was steadily climbing thru 58 kilometers per hour, it suddenly drops to zero. I'm sure you're asking yourself, what's going on here? Things were going so well.  Everyone knows Viktor likes to go as fast as he can, so why did he stop? What story is Viktor telling us with this graph? I participated in this particular workout, so I'm able to share some insight. 

Climbing the Col d'Herbouilly

The 2013 Seawolf Dream Team of Lasse, Lukas and Viktor (Viktor on the NCAA podium and all three in the top 10) were among those in France for Marine and Erik's wedding, and they graciously invited Thersia, D and I out for a little spin around the Alps with them on our bikes. We rode over a local favorite, the Col d'Herbouilly, and raced down the other side to the Saints - Martin and Julien - en Vercors. After a ride 'round the valley, we climbed back out for a final big Alpine descent into the Gorges de La Bourne before making the gradual climb back up home to Villard de Lans.

I quickly figured out my strengths and weaknesses over the first climb.  Considering that Lasse lives in a city that is world-famous for its bike-friendly customs and practices, and considering that Viktor is a professional athlete and one of the fastest skiers in Sweden, and considering that "Der Panzerwagen" is a natural climbing machine on a road bike, it was clear to me that I was not going to be able to assert myself on the uphills, and would just have try to stay in the draft and hang on as well as I could.  But I also found out rather early that there are advantages to being a cannonball on a bike.  No matter how much I sat up and spread my arms out to try to catch air and slow myself down, I still needed to keep steady pressure on the brakes to avoid rolling away from the group on the downhills. I pride myself on my ability to understand strategy and make good tactical decisions, but this was just too easy: If I wanted to go to off the front of this group, the obvious place for a breakaway would be in the last long, steep downhill into the Gorge.

I was second in the group, following Viktor, and we'd rolled over into the descent into the gorge where we got going too fast to pedal. So we got into a tuck, and of course this was my moment to pounce! I came around Viktor and leaned into the first big sweeping right-hander. And then I found out that this was precisely the point where the local highway department decided to lay down a new layer of chipseal on the road! The loose chipseal gravel was lying at least a couple centimeters thick across the road surface.

It's not a real French bike ride unless you stop for espresso and a meat and cheese plate during the ride. Thanks, Lasse, for sponsoring us with mid-ride refreshments!

The thing I find most interesting about Viktor's graph is that the velocity decreases to zero so rapidly.  It was my impression, as I was sliding down the highway on my ass, that my speed was decreasing very, very slowly.  I spent some time sliding on my side, and then I rolled over for a while to give some other parts of my body a chance to become familiar with the road. Then it occurred to me that I could probably save some skin if I got my weight up onto my toes and my gloved hands to slide like that for a while. And finally it dawned on me to climb up onto my bike for a while and let my handlebars and brake hoods take some of the friction. By and by, I came to a stop.

Rolling through St Martin en Vercors

But the whole episode must have not have been as dramatic as it seemed, because my bike still worked (after I twisted the handlebars back into place and made a few other minor adjustments) and I was able to continue the ride with the group just fine, though my outfit wasn't so stylish and sleek anymore. And after a couple hours getting fixed up at the local hospital after the conclusion of the ride, and a little more time getting my bike put back in order in the evening, I was good to go for a nice ride to Meadre and Autrans the following day.

Lucky and Viktor in the Gorges de la Bourne

I know exactly what you're wondering now: What lesson did Adam learn from all this? I learned several things, actually. This was my first-ever "real" bike crash, and I have to say the experience wasn't that bad. Often when I'm riding down a pass in a tuck like that, I imagine what a nightmare it would be to crash at highway speed. But as long as you don't run into anything hard and don't break any bones or knock your head on something, you really only lose some skin, and that grows back eventually. I also learned that if you're getting ready for a ride with the Dream Team and you think you might crash, consider using an older, worn-out biking outfit that you won't mind giving up. Because there might not be much left of it after the ride. But most importantly, if you're going to spend time with a doctor, do it in France! Far more than an hour's worth of the local doctor's exclusive attention (including all the antiseptic supplies and bandages) cost me 25 bucks. I told her I felt like I should pay her a lot more but she said she couldn't accept tips. Back in the good 'ole USA, you can't even stand across the street and look at a doctor for that price. Count me as a fan of the French medical system.

I didn't bother to try to repair these shorts.

The funniest comment I heard all wedding-weekend, though, was what Viktor said to me the next day:  "This weekend, I realized I have a real sickness. When I saw you crash in front of me, of course I was worried about you but my first thought was I need to stop my clock until we start riding again. Because when we're stopped, it doesn't count as training."

If you crash rollersking this fall, give me a shout; I can probably hook you up with bandages. I have some leftovers (new; not used).