Watching the Tour of Flanders last weekend and then some highlights since, I’m fascinated by how some riders can take off alone after gaining what looks to be a relatively small bit of distance over a climb. Two examples would be Pogacar dropping van der Poel this weekend and Cancellara dropping Sagan in 2013. It’s not like they have anyone in front of them to catch their slipstream. Once they gain a few metres on a climb, these guys look unstoppable. What’s happening here?
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This is how they train. You have sprinters, climbers, all-rounders, and time trialists – and to a degree you have, unofficially, “descenders” who are really good at making up or gaining time downhill. What you really need to understand is that professional cyclists train an insane amount for base fitness that puts them on a crazy level compared to recreational cyclists. They then train for their specialties on top of that, reaching their threshold for lactic acid buildup and max power output.
I’m sure you know pros train with power meters, so they aren’t really looking at speed, just their sustained output. When you see someone take off from the front on a hill or on the flats in a breakaway, they are putting in *extra* effort that they have trained for without entering their max effort threshold. The difference in sustained wattage output is what separates all the disciplines. Sprinters max out in very short bursts, whereas climbers can go for a long time uphill at a threshold that would destroy others.
Cyclists train on the same mountain climbs in the off-season that they’ll encounter in grand tours, and they’ll ride the routes and come up with power plans with their teams for spring classics.
They are also very, very good at controlling power output, a 10-watt change in pace can put you in an advantageous position or burn you out. Younger riders recover better when on the bike and tend to make exciting moves like breakaways and climbing attacks.
All pros have to train for mountains, so most pros are actually good at it – they may hate it and they may finish far behind the leaders, but you and I would not be able to climb a grand tour mountain stage within the pro time limit even if we trained all year for it. A lot of pros drop out in the mountains – usually sprinters, first-timers, and anyone with an injury or illness. When you see two leaders dueling it out on a climb, one of them inevitably has some advantage – better output or endurance – and will try to make the other break. Attacks on climbs are difficult and responding to them is a chore, and often as not, the rider with the advantage is the one with patience and experience who is waiting for the other to break – there have been races where both climbers have slowed to a crawl because they didn’t want to be the one to attack. There are also instances of riders giving it everything and pulling out a miracle. And there are instances of favorites just blowing up and limping to the top. It’s all a matter of power output and endurance, and it makes for a hell of a show.
This is how they train. You have sprinters, climbers, all-rounders, and time trialists – and to a degree you have, unofficially, “descenders” who are really good at making up or gaining time downhill. What you really need to understand is that professional cyclists train an insane amount for base fitness that puts them on a crazy level compared to recreational cyclists. They then train for their specialties on top of that, reaching their threshold for lactic acid buildup and max power output.
I’m sure you know pros train with power meters, so they aren’t really looking at speed, just their sustained output. When you see someone take off from the front on a hill or on the flats in a breakaway, they are putting in *extra* effort that they have trained for without entering their max effort threshold. The difference in sustained wattage output is what separates all the disciplines. Sprinters max out in very short bursts, whereas climbers can go for a long time uphill at a threshold that would destroy others.
Cyclists train on the same mountain climbs in the off-season that they’ll encounter in grand tours, and they’ll ride the routes and come up with power plans with their teams for spring classics.
They are also very, very good at controlling power output, a 10-watt change in pace can put you in an advantageous position or burn you out. Younger riders recover better when on the bike and tend to make exciting moves like breakaways and climbing attacks.
All pros have to train for mountains, so most pros are actually good at it – they may hate it and they may finish far behind the leaders, but you and I would not be able to climb a grand tour mountain stage within the pro time limit even if we trained all year for it. A lot of pros drop out in the mountains – usually sprinters, first-timers, and anyone with an injury or illness. When you see two leaders dueling it out on a climb, one of them inevitably has some advantage – better output or endurance – and will try to make the other break. Attacks on climbs are difficult and responding to them is a chore, and often as not, the rider with the advantage is the one with patience and experience who is waiting for the other to break – there have been races where both climbers have slowed to a crawl because they didn’t want to be the one to attack. There are also instances of riders giving it everything and pulling out a miracle. And there are instances of favorites just blowing up and limping to the top. It’s all a matter of power output and endurance, and it makes for a hell of a show.
Not to answer the question, but the average speed of the race was 44.1 km/h (27.4 mph). Try and ride your bike that fast for a couple of minutes. Then imagine riding that fast for just over 6 hours. Because that’s what these guys can do.
Breakaways at the top of a climb are a classic move. You may now be going into a downhill where bike control takes precedence over top speed, or where gravity somewhat compensates for air resistance so the fact that you are on you own is less of a burden than it would be on flat land. Also if you are in fact in better shape than them, it’s not ideal to make the extra effort to lose them on a climb, as it doesn’t buy much distance, so waiting til you are at the top to show what you’ve still got in the tank, you is a better strategy.
Not to answer the question, but the average speed of the race was 44.1 km/h (27.4 mph). Try and ride your bike that fast for a couple of minutes. Then imagine riding that fast for just over 6 hours. Because that’s what these guys can do.
As someone who has actually broken away from the pack during a crit race, I feel uniquely qualified to answer this. I didn’t engineer the breakaway, it just happened. Once it did, however, I struggled to maintain my lead. I stood up and sprinted during the straightaways and took the corners at full speed. While the pack would gain on me on the straightaways, I managed to maintain my lead for about two laps just on cornering alone: I didn’t even touch the brakes on the corners. So there’s that: sometimes the lead rider is just better, on that day, for one reason or another. And sometimes the pack is just too lazy to chase the lead rider down.
Most breakaways happen on the climbs, where aerodynamics is less of a factor. Here, the rider with the best power-to-weight ratio is always at a distinct advantage.
Breakaways at the top of a climb are a classic move. You may now be going into a downhill where bike control takes precedence over top speed, or where gravity somewhat compensates for air resistance so the fact that you are on you own is less of a burden than it would be on flat land. Also if you are in fact in better shape than them, it’s not ideal to make the extra effort to lose them on a climb, as it doesn’t buy much distance, so waiting til you are at the top to show what you’ve still got in the tank, you is a better strategy.
Not to answer the question, but the average speed of the race was 44.1 km/h (27.4 mph). Try and ride your bike that fast for a couple of minutes. Then imagine riding that fast for just over 6 hours. Because that’s what these guys can do.
Breakaways at the top of a climb are a classic move. You may now be going into a downhill where bike control takes precedence over top speed, or where gravity somewhat compensates for air resistance so the fact that you are on you own is less of a burden than it would be on flat land. Also if you are in fact in better shape than them, it’s not ideal to make the extra effort to lose them on a climb, as it doesn’t buy much distance, so waiting til you are at the top to show what you’ve still got in the tank, you is a better strategy.
As someone who has actually broken away from the pack during a crit race, I feel uniquely qualified to answer this. I didn’t engineer the breakaway, it just happened. Once it did, however, I struggled to maintain my lead. I stood up and sprinted during the straightaways and took the corners at full speed. While the pack would gain on me on the straightaways, I managed to maintain my lead for about two laps just on cornering alone: I didn’t even touch the brakes on the corners. So there’s that: sometimes the lead rider is just better, on that day, for one reason or another. And sometimes the pack is just too lazy to chase the lead rider down.
Most breakaways happen on the climbs, where aerodynamics is less of a factor. Here, the rider with the best power-to-weight ratio is always at a distinct advantage.
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