Even though I've long ago reached my psychological limit of indoor training this year it looks like I'll be pushing that limit as far back as the national debt. The plan was, over the next three days, to load up the bike in the pickup and drive the 90 mile round trip west to Burlington, IL, and do 3 hours of outdoor training.
Two to three inches of snow fell last night. Temperature in the high 20's. Steady winds of 10 - 15 mph. Flat, prairie expanses easily double the predicted `steady winds' to double the force. Thirty percent possibility of more snow or freezing sleet/rain.
I've got the bike all `wintered' up with packs of tools, extra clothing, lights, etc. I've got my winter clothing gear carefully selected to withstand zero windchill and wind. I've got the 15 or 20 chemical foot and hand warmers. I've got the liquids and solid food stashed and ready.
But, though it appeals to my heart ("get the hell out of the friggin' basement!") it doesn't pass the "effective training" test in my head. Not to mention the 6+ hours I'd spend commuting over three days, the gas, money and tolls I'd waste in driving close to 300 miles of round trips, or the additional 3+ hours I'd waste getting dressed and undressed, the sopping wet clothes washed and dried again for the next day's training. And then there is the virtual abandonment of my wife and family. I'm not even gonna think about what would happen if I had a mechanical problem on the bike!
So, for the next three days I'll be spending 9am to noon pushing watts on the indoor trainer in the basement.
Another point: some people consider it `training' when they pedal their bike indoors while watching TV or a DVD movie. That's not training. That's exercise.
When I train I watch (when I open my eyes) nothing but the heart rate and the clock, with goals for each. In otherwords, my indoor training is not mitigated by a deflating distraction. It is just grim grim grim business. It's a chance to think too much (analysis) or to recognize how little I think for such a long time (dissociation).
Here's how I rationalize this: one only knows real pleasure when one has grim pain against which to compare it. (If you think too long and hard on that idea it could get us into a whale of trouble!)