One thing I determined when I had children is that I would never pressure them into living out fantasies of my own childhood (or adulthood for that matter).  Of course, most fathers think that their children are going to end up liking what they like, so as they begin to grow we don’t think too much about it. That is until they reach an age when they have the capability to “like what we like.”

There are those sons and fathers who do have a shared love for a particular sport. I see it with some of my friends who ride. I see it in other sports as well. However, for some fathers and sons there isn’t a natural connection with an activity. So it is with me, the bicycle and my son.

Thing Two is now 12 years old, 5′ 8″ and weighs 120 pounds. He, like his dad at that age, is just bone and muscle. Though appearing skinny, he is deceptively strong.

Thing Two and I head out for a ride

He is built like a climber. I’d love to know his power-to-weight ratio! There is no doubt in my mind that he could fly on a bicycle. There is just one problem with that. He doesn’t like to fly on a bicycle.

Thing Two is careful. He does not like to take physical risks. I first took him riding when he was 8. Unfortunately, it is hard to ride around where we live without going up and down hills. Going up didn’t bother him that much. Going down was another matter. It was hard to get him back on the bicycle after those nervous excursions out on the road.

Age and the Swamp Rabbit Trail has helped, but still he carefully rides along without an once of aggression. He would much rather follow cautiously on my wheel than to ride beside me. I have no fear of him doing anything intentionally reckless. If he was sixteen, I would have no reservation handing him the keys to the car.

On Sunday, I saw him playing around with my old Garmin 705. He had used it on a couple of rides and now he was interested in it again. “Hey, Jonathan,” I said, “Why don’t you use the heart rate strap that goes with that and we can go for a ride and it will record your heart rate.” That got his attention! On Monday before I left for work, I handed over the strap and we paired it with the computer.

Later in the day I received a text from the Beautiful Redhead, “Jonathan is out walking up and down the road with the Garmin in his hand to measure his heart rate.” Here he was showing interest in things we both are attracted to… devices, data and experimentation. It would be interesting to see if that interest could be combined with the bicycle.

Once home, we got the cadence unit attached with all the necessary magnets to his Specialized Allez. He actually seemed excited about the opportunity to go out. I was excited that he was showing interest.

The hills he struggled with as an 8 year old were nothing for him as we made our way out of the neighborhood to the bicycle lane on East North Street. I was well aware that this would be a stretch for him. I instructed him to go ahead of me and stay in the lane while I followed along behind as a buffer.

He handled the clipless pedals (he is large enough to wear much of my old gear) like a pro at the few stops at lights along the way. However, the downhills were definitely approached gingerly. We made it to Cleveland Park and the Swamp Rabbit Trail without incident.

From there it was smooth sailing. I still wasn’t exactly sure what he was thinking. The other thing about my son is that he isn’t always very expressive. Sometimes you look at him and think he is upset, but find he is happy as a lark. At other times you inadvertently step on a land mind because you didn’t realize that he was actually perturbed at the moment. His face isn’t going to give it away!

The hints that he was enjoying himself came when I would see him looking down at the Garmin and switching between the screens to see the data. Then on the last climb of the day, I could see him really pushing it a bit. I heard him call back in a matter of fact tone, “I got my heart rate over 160.”

Getting home, I created a private Strava account so that he could see the data… and check out the Strava power calculation function. I could tell he was cautious about expressing his thoughts. He wasn’t about to commit to anything here! Still, I praised him for his solid ride and pointed out his 300+ watt climb near the end. I let it go at that.

Now it is time to help him with his baseball — a sport I never really got into, but one that interests him. It is a pleasure to watch him grow to be his own person. I’m thankful for the confidence he is showing as a catcher and pitcher. He is already playing the game better than I ever did in my Little League days.

He towers above his teammates, but he is a gentle giant. I wonder if there is a bit of my competitive fire in there somewhere. I believe it is, but he just needs to find that thing he is passionate about.

I’ve come to realize that competitive passion won’t be for the bicycle. I’m okay with that. The racing lifestyle isn’t really one I want him to follow. However, I do hope that the future will find father and son (sons — don’t forget Thing Three!) exploring together on the beautiful roads of our Upstate.

Still… I have to admit that I would love to see the data if he just up and uncorked a sprint!

I started out yesterday morning reading some from The Time-Crunched Cyclist (more on that later). Then it was off to take my son to his baseball tryouts. After moving branches from a tree that fell in my backyard and fixing the shed door, I stopped for lunch. Lunch done, I put up a new light fixture in the hallway. I helped my son burn some of the branches and then I was free to ride my bike.

It was around 2:30 PM when I rolled the Felt out to the driveway. The weather was beautiful. Just around 60 degrees and feeling even warmer when I stood in the sun. I wondered if I was going to get too warm with my long sleeve under layer and knee warmers. Figuring that the wind would make things a bit cooler, I decided to stay dressed.

This ride was a throw back to days gone by. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t even know where I would go. Turning right out of the driveway decreased my options, but there would still be plenty of varied terrain to mix things up.

In about 8 minutes, I was in Cleveland Park. I decided I would stay there a bit and do some laps. This would also be a return to days gone by.

Back when I was first starting to ride I had no inclinations to race. I thought it was way beyond me. However, I did like going fast and enjoyed competition. If I couldn’t race other riders, I would race myself.

Little did I know that what I was doing was an unsophisticated type of interval training. What I did was do up to 10 laps of the park – about a 2.5 mile loop. There are two climbs that require a good effort and some downhills that give you a minute or so to recover. The rest of the park is pretty flat as it runs along the Reedy River.

As I did these laps I would focus on either 1) beating the time of my previous lap, or 2) try to maintain a certain speed for the entire lap. I still remember how pumped I was when I managed to hold a 22 mph average for the 20 or so miles. I can’t remember my fastest lap, though I don’t believe I ever got under 6 minutes — though I did get close.

Well, on this beautiful Saturday I pushed my lap button at the bottom of the climb on Woodland Circle. The first lap was more a warm up. Because of all the people and the traffic, I finished the first lap close to 8 minutes.

I picked it up a bit on the second lap, but still got caught at the doggie park because of all the people parking along the side of the narrow road to unload their dogs. I went a little harder once I got clear in an attempt to make up time, but that was a mistake. I’m not ready for those kinds of efforts! Still, I shaved off about 30 seconds.

The earlier effort caught up with me on the third lap. I focused on keeping a cadence over 90 rpm and tried to make sure I kept spinning circles instead of mashing on the pedals. This time I got held up by pedestrians crossing the road and cars slowing for speed bumps, but got the lap done in about the same time as the second lap.

I made that one my last and slowly made my way toward the Swamp Rabbit Trail to go downtown to get a cup of coffee. What a wonderful thing to see all the people! It is a great place to people watch. There are some interesting characters, but also it is fun to watch the cyclists who are trying to be “all that.”

About an hour was under my belt when I stopped for my coffee. As I pulled up to dismount my bike, I saw two racer type cyclists — probably college age — go by. Their jerseys were unzipped and they looked like they had been putting in an effort. I wondered if they were coming in from the UWBL.

Several cars went by with bikes on top. I figured they t00 were used for the several hour long ride that leaves from downtown most Saturday mornings during the winter months. Unlike the past, I didn’t feel a pang of guilt for not taking my bike with them.

I tried to finish the last of my coffee so I could get going and ended up burning my tongue. I had parked my bike on the outside of the shop and sat near the door. I wanted to get riding again, but also wanted to attach myself to the bike before someone else did!

Now I was on the Swamp Rabbit Trail headed toward Furman University. Once again I found myself moving around people skating, walking their dogs, running, walking or riding their bikes. Today there were a lot of bicycles.

As I neared Furman, I was glad I had kept my knee warmers and under layer. The wind was cooler now and I was in more shaded areas. The layers made me feel quite comfortable.

Once you reach the portion of the trail that goes through the Furman campus, Paris Mountain becomes an obvious landmark. As I glanced up from the shaded trail to see the sun shining on the mountain, I decided that going over it would be the fastest way home. That would make my ride about 2 hours total and it would be fun to make my first attempt of 2012.

I had absolutely NO thoughts that this was going to be a good time. I didn’t even try to make it so. I put the bike in the easiest gear and started to climb. Frankly, I was feeling pretty bad by the water tower section. I was starting to second guess my decision!

Getting around the first turn after that section, I was feeling a bit better. I was more in a rhythm.

I reached halfway in 7 minutes or so. Hmmmm, that wasn’t so bad for not really trying. As I started, I thought it might be nice to hit 18 minutes. Now I was thinking I might make it in 16.

Sure enough about two-thirds of the way up I bogged down. This is typical for me. Still, I just kept looking ahead to the next turn and kept spinning. I reached the wall just under 15 minutes. I stood and started rocking the bike toward the top. Maybe because I had not pushed hard to this point, I found that I was feeling pretty good.

Looking through the trees atop Paris Mountain. Looking toward Saluda.

I pushed the lap button at 15:33. This will be my base time to start the year. Each time I make the climb, I’ll try to bring it down. Granted, it won’t be hard to drop it with a little bit of effort. However, I know the time will come when it will be very hard to improve the time.

Coming off the mountain, I let the Felt go. I love big-ringing it down Altamont and swooping like an eagle around the turns. It helps me forget about the pain of the climb.

I pulled up at home after just over 2 hours on the bike. There was no guilt that it hadn’t been 4 hours. I sat down by the still burning logs to talk with my son. There was a smile on my face — and on the inside.

It was good that the bike was telling me how to love it instead of everyone around me.