Cycling, Tracking, Analytics and Performance Pressure.

So. I am a laggard rider. When I say laggard; I mean I used to ride very often, and ride long distances in my younger years, but I have clearly fallen behind now. I am 34. I used to love cycling to school and racing along the school bus with the kids cheering for me, it was a 10 kilometre commute one way so that makes it a 20 km round trip to school and back. I used to do this about 3 days a week in my senior years.

The last professional cycle event where I competed was the MTB Himalaya, in 2006. I got a DNF, which means "Did Not Finish". It's definitely not a proud tag to have as it means I could not finish the race (well IT IS the world's toughest mountain race, and I carried Glucon D for hydration and a 3 kg air pump for recovery. I was an amateur, I didn't know better, also; I couldn't afford anything better that time). I must admit though that MTB Himalaya was a life changing experience. 700 km in 8 days, up and down single tracks in the Himalayas, riding all day - fast, at the edge of the mountain, time-keeping, hydration, cramps, international riders, the world's best mountain bikes, boiled eggs, camping and camaraderie. It was definitely a life changing experience.

It has been 13 years (oh that devil 13 of a number) and every year, I make promises to myself saying; I will - next year, compete again. I haven't.

What I did do though, and enjoyed thoroughly, was cycle within the city on metalled roads. I often did 80 km or 100 km on Sunday mornings in sweltering Delhi heat, up and down flyovers, through traffic signals, jumping pavements.

I loved cycling in the city and my 'method' of measuring my performance was essentially only a wrist watch, and Google maps which I looked up once I returned home. I cycled with only my own past performance in my mind, my target of finishing the ride before the day became too hot, and sometimes the lure of reaching a friend's house early so I could get breakfast. The 80 km seemed to happen much easily than it happens today. I wasn't worried about my time, essentially because I was in it only for a good time.

I understand this may now start seeming like an article promoting archaic, elementary methods, obsolete technology (or the complete lack of it), and talking about the 'good old days' when life was simple. Well, what the heck - so be it, some things are better when they're simple. So read on if you're still here.

I went for a ride today after almost a month, in lovely Bangalore weather. I was down with viral recently and my joints still hurt. I contemplated riding but I prepped myself knowing that I have to be back on the saddle and it will make me feel better.

I did a rather short, but a really fast ride. I pedalled ferociously, I could feel my joints stretching, my calf cramping and my heart stressing. I tracked the ride on an app on my phone - Strava. The app is almost the Facebook for athletes. People track and upload their physical activities, see what others have done, share, give kudos and so on.

When I finished and took the phone out of my fluorescent jacket's pocket and opened Strava, I saw an error screen. It said something like "Strava encountered a problem and was closed".

My heart sank. I could not track my ride; know the distance I covered and the really short time I took to cover it, I could't see if I had any achievements for any segments and I wouldn't be able to share my 'post viral recovery cycle ride' with the world. Nobody would like the post on Facebook and nobody would give me a kudos on Strava. How would other 'athletes' know what I had done. Oh god, the stress of sharing.

What's troubling is not that I didn't have a great ride, but that I couldn't track the ride. Isn't it sad?

Our habit of tracking, measuring, evaluating and optimising everything has also today taken over elementary things. Things that we thoroughly enjoy, things that shouldn't need measuring, judging, or sharing.

It'll be a different game if I ride in a race again, till then, why bother with Strava.

Always wear a helmet though and 'just enjoy the ride'.