Ask the guy on the street if he thinks of motorcyclists as being in good shape and he'll likely laugh, with thoughts of large shirtless bikers with copious bellies bulging through black leather vests and cigarettes dangling from bearded mouths.
Not exactly paragons of healthy living.
Racers are a far different breed, of course. And if the guy on the street follows motorcycle racing, and if he thinks about it, his answer would be quite a bit different:
Eight days after multiplying his collarbone by five - a feat requiring a titanium plate and five scews to rectify - Yamaha Tech III MotoGP rider, Colin Edwards, not only raced, but placed third.
Edwards also had torn rib muscle, which makes thinking about breathing feel like someone has stabbed you in the ribs with a rusty butterknife and is removing chunks of bones with it.
Motocross riders have medical dossiers that make War and Peace look like a footnote.
Flat trackers are not human. They don't count.
If that isn't fighting-fit and toughness, then there isn't such things. At the least, racers must be fit enough that their crash recovery times are too short for their sponsors to have second thoughts about where their money is going.
But most motorcyclists are neither bearded fat men nor professional racers. What about the everyday riders? The weekend warriors? The occasional off-roaders?
(Note: I might be mocking the crusty road king, but I once rode a windscreen-less Sportster with forward controls and ape hangers cross-country and every ride was the equivalent of doing the six-hour pull-up. The fat men may not be fit but they are strong.)
I put 350-miles on my Ducati 848Evo today, a good part of which was spent in the hills of western Maryland and the mountains of eastern West Virgina. I am wiped out. And sore. My legs, heavy as lead, feel like I've been running stairs all day. My upper arms and shoulders are soggy noodles.
In short, the twisties kicked my butt, which ironically, is the only part of my body that doesn't feel like its been through the wringer.
I am in okay shape. I'd qualify that with a "for my age" but I'd rather not date myself. I can run a few consecutive miles at a decent pace. I ride a bicycle each day to and from work. Its stairs not the elevator at the office. When I get motivated I can even put out a fair number of push-ups.
I'll not mention the same 15lbs I've been losing, and gaining, for the past several years.
But I wouldn't exactly say I'm fit. And after today, and certainly tomorrow when I'm walking around like I'm using an invisible walker, I wouldn't exactly say that I am fit to ride. Or at least ride the way that I want or should.
I mean seriously, how much more awesome would my absurdly fun 848Evo be if riding didn't take so much effort? Or if my legs could take an extra 100-miles?
So what is the ordinary rider to do? I can't be the only one out there, who wants to keep riding one more mile, but has to come in because complete muscle failure set in long before the ride should have ended.
The way I see it, I have six weeks before taking a Level I class at Virginia International Speedway through Keith Code's Superbike Riding School. I am not going to get what I want out of it in my current conditioning. What to do?
Easy. Google search. According to Google: sqats (the horror!), crunches (even worse!), core training (pilates?), and bicycling/running (but no cigarettes or Doritos?!?).
That which doesn't kill me will only serve to make me stronger. Or just torture me without mercy.
Wish me luck and feel free to share suggestions. If it makes for better riding, its all part of the joy. Right?
Cheers!
Not exactly paragons of healthy living.
Racers are a far different breed, of course. And if the guy on the street follows motorcycle racing, and if he thinks about it, his answer would be quite a bit different:
Eight days after multiplying his collarbone by five - a feat requiring a titanium plate and five scews to rectify - Yamaha Tech III MotoGP rider, Colin Edwards, not only raced, but placed third.
Edwards also had torn rib muscle, which makes thinking about breathing feel like someone has stabbed you in the ribs with a rusty butterknife and is removing chunks of bones with it.
Motocross riders have medical dossiers that make War and Peace look like a footnote.
Flat trackers are not human. They don't count.
If that isn't fighting-fit and toughness, then there isn't such things. At the least, racers must be fit enough that their crash recovery times are too short for their sponsors to have second thoughts about where their money is going.
But most motorcyclists are neither bearded fat men nor professional racers. What about the everyday riders? The weekend warriors? The occasional off-roaders?
(Note: I might be mocking the crusty road king, but I once rode a windscreen-less Sportster with forward controls and ape hangers cross-country and every ride was the equivalent of doing the six-hour pull-up. The fat men may not be fit but they are strong.)
I put 350-miles on my Ducati 848Evo today, a good part of which was spent in the hills of western Maryland and the mountains of eastern West Virgina. I am wiped out. And sore. My legs, heavy as lead, feel like I've been running stairs all day. My upper arms and shoulders are soggy noodles.
In short, the twisties kicked my butt, which ironically, is the only part of my body that doesn't feel like its been through the wringer.
I am in okay shape. I'd qualify that with a "for my age" but I'd rather not date myself. I can run a few consecutive miles at a decent pace. I ride a bicycle each day to and from work. Its stairs not the elevator at the office. When I get motivated I can even put out a fair number of push-ups.
I'll not mention the same 15lbs I've been losing, and gaining, for the past several years.
But I wouldn't exactly say I'm fit. And after today, and certainly tomorrow when I'm walking around like I'm using an invisible walker, I wouldn't exactly say that I am fit to ride. Or at least ride the way that I want or should.
I mean seriously, how much more awesome would my absurdly fun 848Evo be if riding didn't take so much effort? Or if my legs could take an extra 100-miles?
So what is the ordinary rider to do? I can't be the only one out there, who wants to keep riding one more mile, but has to come in because complete muscle failure set in long before the ride should have ended.
The way I see it, I have six weeks before taking a Level I class at Virginia International Speedway through Keith Code's Superbike Riding School. I am not going to get what I want out of it in my current conditioning. What to do?
Easy. Google search. According to Google: sqats (the horror!), crunches (even worse!), core training (pilates?), and bicycling/running (but no cigarettes or Doritos?!?).
That which doesn't kill me will only serve to make me stronger. Or just torture me without mercy.
Wish me luck and feel free to share suggestions. If it makes for better riding, its all part of the joy. Right?
Cheers!