My alarm went off at 5:30 am. I opened the curtains and checked the sky. Grey, but not raining. Good, given the weather forecast had been a bit iffy. I combed my hair, brushed my teeth, changed into my exercise leggings, inserted my contacts, put on my helmet, slid my water bottle into the bike’s bottle cage, and pushed my bike out of the apartment door and into the peaceful quiet of early post-dawn suburban Sydney. The day was young.

Rise and Ride

When Jensen told me to meet him at 6 am for our first practice ride, I calmly agreed, betraying no hint of hesitation. But I thought to myself, “god, I don’t even remember the last time I woke up that early”.

Since COVID hit and we started working from home, my waking hours have shifted clockwise by at least two hours - I now typically stay up much later, but also get up later due to the delightful lack of a commute.

One of my first realisations since committing to the Tour de Cure is that I must now adjust my sleep-wake cycle quite dramatically. Serious road cyclists start their training rides very early in the morning, in order to (a) avoid traffic, and (b) take advantage of the coolest hours of the day (especially important in the sweltering heat of the Sydney summer).

Though waking up at 5:30 am (or even earlier) is not my idea of fun, I admit it’s quite a revelation to leave the house when hardly anyone else is awake, and to arrive back home before work, knowing you have already accomplished so much in the day.

Straight Lines

Jensen and I met at Tempe Recreation Reserve, which is located along the Cooks River, a stone’s throw away from Sydney Airport, and conveniently only a 5-minute ride away from my apartment.

The netball courts in the reserve, Jensen told me, are ideal for training a road bike beginner: “There’re lots of straight lines! You can follow the markings to practice steering, starting and stopping”.

So follow the straight lines we did. We rode up and down the deserted courts no less than eight times, stopping at every second horizontal line to practice smooth braking and smooth starting. It was exactly like learning to drive in an empty carpark. Only later did I reflect on the absurdity of Jensen, a six-time TDC veteran, practicing humble straight lines with me.

Starting and Stopping

Before riding my first road bike, I never imagined that something as seemingly simple as starting and stopping could be quite so tricky. I found that since my feet could not touch the ground while seated, it was always a bit hit-and-miss when I tried to stop and hop off the bike. Sometimes I managed to do it smoothly; more often I was clumsy and felt like I was about to crash or fall over. (This was just with flat pedals. Things will no doubt get even more interesting once I start using clip-in pedals.)

Jensen introduced me to the proper technique:

  • Start by identifying your dominant / leading leg. You can do this by standing straight, legs shoulder-width apart, and having someone push you from behind. The leg that lifts off the ground first is your leading leg.

  • To start riding from stationary, lean the bike slightly away from your leading side, so your non-leading foot is able to touch the ground. Then backpedal until the pedal on your leading side is at the 2 o’clock position (when viewed from the right-hand-side of the bike). Finally start pedalling on your leading side, so you build up enough momentum to get going and to bring your non-leading foot onto its pedal as well.

  • To stop smoothly, brake gently, lift your non-leading foot off its pedal, lean slightly into your non-leading side, so once again your non-leading foot is able to touch the ground as you come to a stop.

Changing Gears

The next part of our Road Bike 101 training concerned changing gears. With my previous mountain bike, which was cheap and nasty and almost falling apart, I avoided changing gears as much as practically possible, since the chain had an unfortunate habit of falling off whenever I switched gears a little too enthusiastically. Consequently, my theoretical knowledge and practical experience of utilising gears was rather thin.

Jensen gave me a brief tutorial, and we practiced changing gears while going up and down the netball courts, to get a feel of how different gear combinations make pedalling easier or harder.

My bike has two chain rings at the front and 11 cogs in the rear cassette. I learnt:

  • The hardest gear combination is the largest chain ring at the front and the smallest cog at the back. This is used for long downhills or short, high-speed sprints.

  • The easiest gear combination is the smallest chain ring at the front and the largest cog at the back. This is used for long, steep climbs.

  • Cross-chaining should be avoided at all times. This occurs when you use the biggest chain ring at the front together with the biggest cog at the back, or when you use the smallest chain ring at the front together with the smallest cog at the back. When this happens, the chain is forced to stretch at an angle, instead of running in a straight line, which puts strain in the chain and creates unpleasant noises.

Gear combinations

Miscellaneous Tips

Throughout the practice session, Jensen also provided some miscellaneous snippets of knowledge:

  • Before coming to a stop, it is usually a good idea to change into an easier gear (1-2 levels down), so you don’t have to pedal as hard once you start moving again. This is especially important when riding in a peloton, because you don’t want to hold everyone up or become separated from the group.

  • Try to wipe the chain down after every ride. You can do this leaning the bike against a wall, holding a piece of old rag in place against the chain, then slowly turning the pedal backwards to move the chain. This helps to get rid of the muck that gets stuck to the chain.

Overall, my first practice ride with a fellow TDC participant was helpful and productive. I arrived back home feeling more knowledgeable and more confident in handling my road bike.

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