I figure that I am pretty smart with the math and the psychics stuff after almost completing high school years ago. I still find all the power gobbledygook pretty confusing. Here you all are trying to use science to improve your power and make you faster. I was always told that power comes from determination and will to win, but I figure that I could give the scientific approach a try.
So I know this guy who claims to be a good bicycler. The other day I start talking with him, I tell him "I am a good bicycler myself, but I hear that I can be even better if I use science." Well this gets him going and he starts talking about training plans, equipment and racing. I was totally lost when he started talking about racing this one cat - "What the hell, I don't want to race pets I just want to go fast?" I say to him.
"If you want to go fast, you need to develop your power" he says. "I have a lot of power," I say. He was not convinced and said that I need to have it measured. He showed me this yellow hub on his rear wheel and an over sized bike computer. "This is a power meter," he says, "it will quantify your work output."
"Cool enough, can I try it out?" I ask. He and I are pretty much the same size so I figure that I should be able to ride his bike no problem. Granted this looks a lot less cool than my bike and it feels as if I would break something. After some hesitation he hands the bike over. I hear him shout, "Be careful," as I pedal away.
So now I was pedaling down a quiet street with his bike and the power meter running. Now the science part began. I know that more power was faster, so what was my power? The meter read 200W - "pretty easy" I thought and was not really even working. "Lets see what I can do with this science," I say to myself.
Speeding up the meter went from 200 to 300 to 400 to 500W and so on. At this point I was not even up to my cruising pace - science was not helping yet. The road was getting to busy as I had to swerve around the traffic. The highway was my next destination. Reaching the highway, I opened it up a bit. The numbers kept climbing and I kept going faster. "This is getting a bit harder - but I have more" I thought as I dodged the slow cars.
You see this meter cannot read my determination or how I feel, which my mom told me is the true source of power. Today I felt like an animal and needed to let it out. Soon the numbers on the meter just started blinking 9999 - "worthless" I thought. At this point the bike was bending and creaking something awful, my legs were a blur, my leg muscles contracted so tightly they sounded like guitar strings when alternating between the quads, glutes and hamstrings. Now I started breathing a bit harder and was even sweating a bit. I noticed some police cruisers behind me, trying to follow me I figure but they were disappearing in the distance.
After about 1/2 hour of riding and loosing the cops, I needed to refuel. I did not have a lot of cash. From science, I know I need to maximize the amount of calories put in my system for a minimum amount of dollars. So I stopped by a gas station. Now I bet you are thinking that gasoline offers the best calorie per dollar and you would be right, but from science and past experience I also know that it can be a bit unhealthy.
Instead I filled my bottle with E-85. I know I can tolerate ethanol in large quantities and its good for cars right? I finished the bottle got on the on ramp and started again. Now I was back up to speed and was feeling even faster - the road was becoming unsafe. So I cut across the local airport and sprinted along the runway. "Those pilots sure do fly their planes slow", I thought as I passed a few taking off.
After a few minutes, I was feeling funny. Tired from being awesome, I suppose, and maybe a bit from the E-85. My vision blurred and I got dizzy - the cure, I thought, was more speed. At this point the tires were burning up and the bike was beginning to fall apart. In the distance, I saw a white object moving along the road a few feet above it. I worked hard to catch up but could not.
Well my intestines were getting irritated from my fuel - I had an idea based on science and my supreme intelligence to use my "gas" to go faster. I opened my mouth wide and allowed the air to spill into my lungs and gut. Then I released my flatus which ignited from the sparks of the disintegrating rear wheel. I became the first human ramjet - my speed quickly doubled (the so-called power meter was still just flashing).
With still blurred vision, propelled by flames, I caught up to the white object. Once I was close enough, I realized it was Charlie Sheen riding a white unicorn. "Greetings from bicycling Valhalla!," he shouted and handed me a golden presta valve cap. Then he was gone.
At this point I was getting really tired and running out of propulsion. To my left, I eyed another, aged, cyclist. He was barely pedaling and did not appear to be working hard at all. I also noticed that the lowest tooth count on his cassette was 16. "Who are you" I shouted. He replied, "Just an old guy!" as he pedaled on into the distance.
Screw science - it doesn't even make me as fast as an old guy!
So I know this guy who claims to be a good bicycler. The other day I start talking with him, I tell him "I am a good bicycler myself, but I hear that I can be even better if I use science." Well this gets him going and he starts talking about training plans, equipment and racing. I was totally lost when he started talking about racing this one cat - "What the hell, I don't want to race pets I just want to go fast?" I say to him.
"If you want to go fast, you need to develop your power" he says. "I have a lot of power," I say. He was not convinced and said that I need to have it measured. He showed me this yellow hub on his rear wheel and an over sized bike computer. "This is a power meter," he says, "it will quantify your work output."
"Cool enough, can I try it out?" I ask. He and I are pretty much the same size so I figure that I should be able to ride his bike no problem. Granted this looks a lot less cool than my bike and it feels as if I would break something. After some hesitation he hands the bike over. I hear him shout, "Be careful," as I pedal away.
So now I was pedaling down a quiet street with his bike and the power meter running. Now the science part began. I know that more power was faster, so what was my power? The meter read 200W - "pretty easy" I thought and was not really even working. "Lets see what I can do with this science," I say to myself.
Speeding up the meter went from 200 to 300 to 400 to 500W and so on. At this point I was not even up to my cruising pace - science was not helping yet. The road was getting to busy as I had to swerve around the traffic. The highway was my next destination. Reaching the highway, I opened it up a bit. The numbers kept climbing and I kept going faster. "This is getting a bit harder - but I have more" I thought as I dodged the slow cars.
You see this meter cannot read my determination or how I feel, which my mom told me is the true source of power. Today I felt like an animal and needed to let it out. Soon the numbers on the meter just started blinking 9999 - "worthless" I thought. At this point the bike was bending and creaking something awful, my legs were a blur, my leg muscles contracted so tightly they sounded like guitar strings when alternating between the quads, glutes and hamstrings. Now I started breathing a bit harder and was even sweating a bit. I noticed some police cruisers behind me, trying to follow me I figure but they were disappearing in the distance.
After about 1/2 hour of riding and loosing the cops, I needed to refuel. I did not have a lot of cash. From science, I know I need to maximize the amount of calories put in my system for a minimum amount of dollars. So I stopped by a gas station. Now I bet you are thinking that gasoline offers the best calorie per dollar and you would be right, but from science and past experience I also know that it can be a bit unhealthy.
Instead I filled my bottle with E-85. I know I can tolerate ethanol in large quantities and its good for cars right? I finished the bottle got on the on ramp and started again. Now I was back up to speed and was feeling even faster - the road was becoming unsafe. So I cut across the local airport and sprinted along the runway. "Those pilots sure do fly their planes slow", I thought as I passed a few taking off.
After a few minutes, I was feeling funny. Tired from being awesome, I suppose, and maybe a bit from the E-85. My vision blurred and I got dizzy - the cure, I thought, was more speed. At this point the tires were burning up and the bike was beginning to fall apart. In the distance, I saw a white object moving along the road a few feet above it. I worked hard to catch up but could not.
Well my intestines were getting irritated from my fuel - I had an idea based on science and my supreme intelligence to use my "gas" to go faster. I opened my mouth wide and allowed the air to spill into my lungs and gut. Then I released my flatus which ignited from the sparks of the disintegrating rear wheel. I became the first human ramjet - my speed quickly doubled (the so-called power meter was still just flashing).
With still blurred vision, propelled by flames, I caught up to the white object. Once I was close enough, I realized it was Charlie Sheen riding a white unicorn. "Greetings from bicycling Valhalla!," he shouted and handed me a golden presta valve cap. Then he was gone.
At this point I was getting really tired and running out of propulsion. To my left, I eyed another, aged, cyclist. He was barely pedaling and did not appear to be working hard at all. I also noticed that the lowest tooth count on his cassette was 16. "Who are you" I shouted. He replied, "Just an old guy!" as he pedaled on into the distance.
Screw science - it doesn't even make me as fast as an old guy!
