During an email exchange among indoor cycling instructors earlier this week, I was reminded of an odd happening in my class a couple of weeks ago.

I’ve had my Friday, 6:00 AM class for almost 6 years now.  We’ve got some great energy in the room built over the years.  When I was first given the class there were only 4 people.  Now it is waiting list only and the 4 original attendees are still riding strong.  This is one of those situations as an instructor where you are so comfortable with the group that you can say almost anything and get away with it.  It is a great feeling and a class I look forward to every week.

A couple of weeks ago, I enter the room as usually and find people warming-up and chatting away.  I say hi to those I pass as I enter the cycling studio from the back and make my way to the podium.  I hang 11″x17″ charts every week that show a graphical representation of the ride profile.  Everyone waits to see what torture is in store for the morning.  I’ve got some pre-class music cranking and the banter has already begun.

I glance over to one of the bikes in the front row and notice an iPhone perched on the top of the handlebars.  No one was on the bike or near it.  Everyone assumed, like I did, that someone was using their cell phone to reserve their much desired spot.  The class begins and there sits the iPhone, by itself.  No owner.  No towel.  No one says anything, but we all wait in anticipation for the crazed person who will eventually dart into the room – who is now also late for class.

Five minutes into the warm-up and it is obvious that no one will be joining the iPhone.  Apparently it was left there from the Thursday night class.  So considering it is 6 in the morning and the coffee has not quite kicked in, I decided to treat the iPhone as if it was a rider.

The heckling begins.  I start by accusing the phone for not working hard enough during the first set of drills and then admonish it for texting friends during our intermediate recovery.  At one point I went over to the bike and turned up the resistance and acted as if I enjoyed watching the poor phone struggle “yeah, that’s what I’m talking about…I want you to push down hard on those buttons until your screen fogs up!”

Near the end of the workout as we approached the top of a steep 8-minute climb it became obvious that the phone was losing coverage.  Multiple times it called for more power as it struggled for the last 60 seconds, but there was no answer.  ”That’s right…you ain’t got no app for that!”  After class I did reassure the iPhone that if it kept coming back, we would eventually transform that soft squishy cover to a hard shell case.

While I was reliving the memory with my comrade instructors, I was warned that it is against policy to touch a riders resistance during class.  My bad.

Apparently, the iPhone doesn’t have an app for indoor cycling, but Droid Does.

As indoor cycling instructors, we each cop a style.  We may be the high energy instructor, drill sergeant, mind-body guru or coach.  Generally speaking, whatever style we gravitate toward usually determines how we approach our workouts from week to week.

A few of weeks ago, a couple of riders approached me after class and said “wow, that was different.  That was definitely not your usually workout.”  I tried not to react and slowly replied “Really?  What do you mean?  They continued to define my style as the “professional” cycling coach who plans and targets every workout and drill.  They quickly, almost interrupting themselves, ensured me that they loved the focus of my workouts and look forward to them (in a sick kinda way).

A couple of weeks later I did another workout called “Classic Climbs”.  No, it is not what you think. Many thought for sure it was some famous climbs of the Tour de France, but that was not it.  We tackled 3 challenging climbs motivated by some “Classic Rock”.  Now I did blur the lines of the genre a bit so the younger crowd wouldn’t stare off in confusion.  There was some Styx, Rush, Santana, ZZ Top and Nazareth, as well as some Pearl Jam, Green Day and U2.

My riders continued to comment on how I was “Really Mixin’ it up”.  But they were excited.  I told them I was in the process of creating Classic Climbs 2 and needed suggestions.  The emails are still rolling in.

In the next 2 weeks we start with the Giro, followed by the TDF and then the Vuelta.  I have a tradition of using 3 stages from each grand tour during the race weeks.

So, how predictable do your riders think you are?  I was taken back a bit, because I assumed that since I never repeated a workout (or music) more than once per 2 months, that I was “versatile”.  Apparently, my style predominated my varied selection of music and workouts.  I do enjoy going all “mind-body” on them or doing my best race announcer (a la Bob Roll) impersonation.  It’s nice to know my riders like the change of pace as well.

It has come down to the final lap of this grueling criterium (bike race). Riders are fighting for position at the front of the race as we weave through the last 3 turns heading into the finish. The pace picks up again with 2 corners to go as we stand and accelerate out of the turn. I’m in good position, about 4 riders from the front, and as we approach the final turn I can see the finishing banner out of the corner of my eye. We hug the right side of the road and prepare to dive into the last left-hand turn, leaving a straight shot to the line. The gears start to shift and the bikes lean into the turn.

What are those guys doing?!?! As we come out of the final turn at full tilt, two guys standing at the finish line, grab the poles holding up the finish line banner and pull them out of the ground. They then start running down the road, carrying the banner above their heads. We fly past the original locaton of the finish line and continue to chase them, desparately trying to to bring this race and brutal sprint to a end. We finally catch them. I didn’t win.

Yeah, I made that up. Well not really. It was just in a different context, such as an indoor cycling class.

We’ve been crankin’ for the last 40 minutes and it is coming down to the last sprint. The instructor has been prepping us for this finale for the last few minutes, building up the intensity for one last all-out effort. The instructor begins the slow and dramatic countdown to our last 20-seconds before we cooldown and stretch. “4………..3………….2………….1……….GO!!!

With all the resistence we can muster, and all the leg speed possibly, we give every last drop of energy for this 20 second sprint……15 seconds…..10 seconds……almost there…… Just as we are about to cross the imaginary finish line, the instructor yells: “10 MORE SECONDS”! What da? What do you mean “10 MORE SECONDS”? Did someone move the _______ finish line?

Dude, you just can’t do that. Mentally and physically we are pulling everything together, with just the right timing, to explode at the finish. There “ain’t” no such thing as 10 more seconds. Yeah, I know it sounds cool and all bravado like, to throw out what appears to be an extreme challenge, but it is more harmful than good.

First, it is a waste since most people doing the final sprint correctly will have nothing else to give, and will only slump their shoulders in exhaustion during that surprise 10 seconds. Anyone who has ever ridden a real bike will write the instructor off as a bone-head. Others may leave discouraged because they didn’t have anything left for those last worthless seconds. A competitive athlete wont come near your class with a 10-foot (or 10-second) pole. Second, this only trains riders NOT to sprint as hard as they can because “someone” may move the finish line, forcing them to scurry for some remaining vapor of fuel.

If you want your classes and workouts to reflect sound training and attract outdoor riders, don’t do stuff like this. Set people up for success and make them successful. Bolt that finish line down and encourage riders to give everything they’ve got left to hit that line at top speed.

The End.

Oh, wait. one more thing………… Yeah, see what I mean. It just ain’t right.