Why You Should Train On A Single Speed
Over a 35 year span of racing and riding all sorts of two wheelers I can definitely say I can't get enough of the thrill I get every time I throw my leg over the saddle.
During the last 10 months I have found a new passion on two wheels. This passion is based on a bike that is simple, light, and easy to maintain. This bike has one gear choice. And that limited, defined choice is what makes the bike a truly new passion for me. What could be so engaging about a bicycle whose top claim was humility? And why would this new bike be the favorite of a vast quiver? The answer lies in the gear choice, or lack of choice.
Because the bike has only one gear I, as a rider, have to develop a vast array of riding styles and techniques. This is not limited to actually powering the bike because it also lacks rear suspension, so railing the trail has become much more than the point and plow technique used on today's superior suspensions.
The single speed bicycle has consumed my riding time because it has multiplied my riding styles. Today we hear so much about the magical car/bike/boat/ski/board with 'Jekyll and Hyde' characteristics that can do it all well. Refreshingly, my single-speed makes a Jekyll and Hyde out of me. I must do it all well.
Because the bike requires so much, my mind is completely free to explore the capabilities of my body and my body is free to explore the capabilities of the bike. Gone is the little voice that so often accompanies other workouts, there's no time to chit chat with myself about the dilemmas of the day. I must focus, and the focus required is limitlessly liberating. It's the same liberation I find when bombing across the desert floor on my 450, stepping off a cornice into free fall, or dropping in on a furious wave and it can last for hours.
The nitty gritty of riding a single-speed involves so much more of the human body than a traditional bike ride.
On flat terrain, my leg speed is fast and the effort constantly refines my pedaling technique. A smooth pedal stroke vastly increases efficiency as the legs learn to pedal in circles rather than just stabbing down.
As the trail tilts up a little I settle in to the seated burn so common to riding bicycles. This seated power allows me to ride endless on my motorcycle and forever on my snowboard. Moving along much faster than I would otherwise on a geared bike due to the gear I'm stuck with and the lightness of an ungeared, unsprung ride.
As the trail incline increases, I stand to stay on top of the gear. This next pitch, where I'm standing and my leg speed is still fairly fast makes me feel like I might be Lance attacking the mountains of Europe. My upper body is engaged, my triceps and shoulders pushing the bike side to side, my head high and vision far up the trail, all conspiring me to get on up and over. I feel fantastically fast.
The final climbing technique is the point where traction becomes an issue. I can no longer just pump hard, I must control the output or the rear tire will break loose and I'll probably jam my knee into the top of the fork. It hurts and bleeds so I am definitely motivated to ply my skill. Still standing out of the saddle, I now pull on the bars rather than push. My torso is much more involved, working the core muscles. My biceps and lats combine to pull me on up. My cadence slows to 40, 30, maybe 20 rpm. I'm barely moving up very steep, dusty and loose trails. The total body strength required is checked by the balance required to stay upright. My lungs fill and empty, sweat weeps from my brow and trickles down the lens of my glasses - an all out effort to keep from stopping, succumbing and walking. Honor and pride are recruited to keep it all together.
Up these extreme pitches my position vacillates between a squatted power lifter hunched over and so close to the bars I could lick the sweat off my Garmin and an erect dead lifter, with my arms extended and locked. I attribute these techniques to keeping my back strong and trouble free.
At the apex, I realize the reward of a total body workout that will transfer over to all the other activities I enjoy. Oh, and then of course what goes up, gets to come down. Heading down my legs speed up, spinning at rates only reached by track racers, so fast they may just unhitch and blow right through my hips. My butt remains glued to the saddle. Each ride I seem to get a little faster, a little silkier. Finally, I can no longer match the speed required and my legs rest.
I'm heading down and I hear... nothing. No chain slapping because there is no slack in the chain on a single-speed, and no derailleur clanking off the stays, and no long cables to accommodate suspension bouncing on the frame.
This is the bliss, of a single-speed.
Todd Brown is a former national champion mountain biker, road racer, and Baja motorcycle competitor. He currently tries his best to keep up with his teenage boys.
Todd Brown
Lake Forrest, CA
Todd,
You've found a way to make cross training not only fun, but beneficial to developing your motorcycle riding skills. Good work (out)!
Pete Peterson
I have two Redline Monocogs. I know what your speak of...But most just think it is plain stupid.
Jimmy Lewis