The Race Of Truth

With the World Championships in Kigali, Rwanda wrapping over the weekend, Michael Barry reflects on the time trial, what makes the solo event unique and what it takes to win. 

An individual time trial is not only a race of strength, speed, endurance and agility but also mental acuity. In a racing season of seventy to ninety days a professional will likely compete in fewer than a dozen time trials, and the amateur racer fewer, if any, yet the specialized events influence outcomes of the many stage races. Racing alone against the clock and the wind is considered to be the truest test of a champion racer. 

Preparing for the start, some riders feel nauseous with nerves while others, their confidence calming them, can focus on the goal: to ride as fast as possible alone against the wind to the finish line.  With each time trial, it becomes easier to fall into flow, settle into a rhythm and find speed. A disciplined mental and physical process built on experience helps pacing. A nervous rider will often set out fast and finish slow. The best will build their pace within the race, culminating in a crescendo of speed as the line nears. It is a race of human will as much as physical force.  Some cyclists flounder on a time trial bike, yet can win dozens of mass start road races—perhaps due to their inability to focus alone or perhaps to a lack of confidence. 

The rider will arrive on the start ramp with just over a minute until they are set to begin at the allotted start time.  They will have each developed their own routine from their pre-race meal, to their warm up to the way they place their numbers on their back. Superstition creeps into routine–lucky socks are worn by some, a family necklace is touched before the start, the sign of the cross is made moments before the race begins.   

In the start house,  the rider will be held in position, clipped into their pedals. They will make a few final adjustments to their equipment, adjusting a seam on their tight fitting skin suits or a strap on their conical shaped helmets. Watching the clock quietly tick down time until the start, they will take in a few deep breaths to set their bodies and minds for the violent effort that will ensue. In those final seconds, before they launch down the ramp, the tunnel of noise around them, the rev of the motorcycles, the cheer of crowds, the chop of the helicopter, will silence in their minds as the focus turns to the effort. 

A cyclist at speed alone is beautiful to witness. Tucked down low on their bikes, they fly along, seemingly effortless. Their bodies are motionless other than the metronomic rhythm of their legs, ticking away, producing the speed of a small engine motorcycle. Internally, to feed the effort, their hearts pound, their lungs inhale litres of air. They'll produce an effort that allows their bodies to clear the lactic acid before it sears their muscles. As their bodies churn, their minds will focus on the road ahead, the racing line which they will take through the corner, the amount of pressure they will apply to the brakes, and precisely how hard they will push the pedals to re-accelerate. They will calculate their pace on the climbs, not allowing the lactic acid to creep into their muscles until they near the finish. From the car behind, the team support staff will encourage them through a race radio, relaying time splits and race strategy. Someone who understands the race and the rider, will know when and how to relay the information so that it doesn’t annoy or distract the rider but informs and motivates. The rider will push the limits in every aspect of their performance to find flow and the speed to win. The line is thin–a corner too wide and they come crashing down, a pace too violent and their bodies will falter. 

Weekly club time trials, on a stretch of farm road, were once common in most cycling nations, but due to road congestion, Strava segments/online racing, and the dissolution of the club structure are now fewer. The events allowed riders from all abilities and levels to test themselves weekly, against their previous times, and against their clubmates on a weekly basis. In the solo test, a rider can see their progression, honing their skills. 

The time trial is unique as the only race where the rider is alone (other than the radio in their ear  through which their director can communicate), where team race tactics are stripped away with many of the variables that determine outcome. 

On the open road, the cyclist’s abilities are on full display without a teammate to help them to the finish line. There are no wheels to tuck behind when fatigued and riders are vulnerable to the publics’ eyes if they flounder in their performance.  

Time trials often determine the outcome of the Tour de France, the Giro and the Vuelta. The three weeks of daily racing where the winning margin may be determined by an hour-long, or shorter, time trial effort. Famously, Greg Lemond trounced Parisienne Laurent Fignon to win the 1989 Tour on the final stage into Paris. Knowing he had lost, Fignon collapsed on the cobbles of the Champs D’Elysees just after the finish line. Emotionally destroyed from the loss, he was never the same rider, but the sport also changed forever as Lemond, with his unique aerodynamic  handlebar, showed the world how technology could change the outcome of the most important race. It was then that cycling progressively started to become a technological arms race.

Aerodynamics and bicycle technology heavily influence the outcome of a time trial. It is now understood, that the race of truth is not only a race determined by the athlete’s raw human ability but also the money and resources devoted to the technology they integrate.

Every piece of equipment--from the bicycle which can be worth tens of thousands of dollars, to the fabric of a racing suit, some which are worth thousands of dollars--will influence the racer's result. As professional team budgets balloon, and financial inequality becomes stark, the technology gap widens as do the margins of victory. Costing thousands of dollars a session, teams will test their top riders numerous times a year in wind tunnels to hone their positions on the bike and the equipment they use.

Riders who know they don’t have the fastest equipment can be mentally defeated before they start. The technology even influences races at the youth level which discourages kids from the sport.

A human on a bike is the most efficient form of movement. A top time trialist epitomises the fluidity of cyclists in motion and nobody looks better than current World and Olympic champion Remco Evenepoel. His efficiency is remarkable to watch, even through a screen, which tends to mute speed. Cyclists around the world will mimic his position and young kids will imagine they are him as he speeds through city streets and open farmland.