It was a late weekend morning. I was headed south on A-1-A, returning from a solo bike run to Boynton inlet. The headwind was light, but enough to knock the speed to an even 19mph. Three hours into the ride, I was in no position to hammer the wind, yet impatient to keep the speed up.

“On your left,” was a friendly heads-up as an unknown rider with fresh legs slipped in front. I downshifted and picked up the reps to catch his wheel. I settled into the quiet space of his draft at 21mph. Seconds later, I sensed a third rider on my tail. Now we were three.

For thirty minutes, we snaked down the road, changing leads, holding 21, taking turns on the nose. I was struck with the purity of teamwork between three people who had never met before, with only three words between them.

A team will never gain traction without a common purpose.

This was a team with nothing, except a common purpose, executing skillful manuvers, supporting each other, communicating precisely with each other. There was no orientation, no “get to know you session,” just a purity of purpose.

When your team works together, how clear is the purpose? What is the commitment level of each team member to that purpose? You don’t need much else. -TF

I was third rider off the nose as our bikes snaked down A-1-A. In the face of a headwind, it was tough to keep the speed above 20mph. Mike had been on the nose for four minutes, fought through a couple of gusts that literally moved my front wheel 6 inches off the line. We were cresting a short incline, picking up speed. I knew Mike was about spent.

Two bikes ahead, I saw his taillight move left and I knew that he was done. Four minutes ago, we had popped out from behind the protection of a row of condo towers and smacked straight into the wind. But Mike is a steady rider, maintains a solid cadence.

Moving up the pace line requires focused concentration. Each cyclist is 12-24 inches off the wheel in front, tucked into a protective draft, maintaining spacing, watching for hazards, checking speed, searching for traffic, pedaling a stiff heart rate, controlled breathing, feeling the burn of lactic buildup.

“Good job, Mike!”
“Thanks, Mike!”
“Great pull!”
“Good speed!”

As Mike dropped to the back of the pace line, each cyclist he passed had a word of appreciation, encouragement and inspiration. I know Mike was dog tired. He had beaten the wind for the past five minutes and was seeking protection on the end of the pack. But, I saw him sit taller and his cadence increase. His body was beat, but his spirit was up.

Are your team members getting too much appreciation from each other? As your team winds its way through the day, what does appreciation sound like? Does your team have a protocol, an established time and place where they can genuinely thank each other for support and contribution? Does your team practice thanking each other?

Merry Christmas. -TF

It sounded like a beer cap hitting a marble floor, then like a rifle shot. 100 pounds of air pressure escaping in a nanosecond. The sound ricocheted off the high towers, piercing the early morning silence. Bike number three had a flat.

The undercurrent of grumbling was short-lived. The back of the pace line maneuvered around as bike number three dismounted and hopped up the curb onto the sidewalk under a street light. Within ten seconds, the entire pace line assembled around this carcass of carbon fiber and limp rubber tubing called a bicycle. Two headlights brightened up the rear gear cluster. One held up the bike, another spun the crank moving the chain down to the highest gear. Another popped the brake, grabbed the quick release and jerked the axle free. Two bikers set up a perimeter to ward off errant traffic. Someone had already unfolded a fresh tube and spiked a CO2 cartridge. The old tube was out and careful fingers were searching the inside of the tire for a shard of metal, a piece of glass.

Now, the rider of bike number three was actually doing very little through this entire process. He was trying to look in control, but truth be told, his bike was being fixed without him. It was really a smooth process, not a lot of talking, mostly joking going on. Seven minutes later, with a small tailwind, the pace line was back at 24 mph, snaking their way down the quiet city street.

When your team encounters a problem, what do they look like? When a team member runs up against an immovable obstacle, how quickly does the rest of the team pitch in? When the rest of the team assembles, how cooperative do they work, how synchronous are their efforts? How often does your team practice having flats in the dark and fixing them by flashlight?

Five miles into the ride, the warm-up is over, we turn south on A-1-A and set up the pace line. Today, we have five riders. It’s a weekday, so the ride will be a quick 28 miles.

Mike takes the lead, Scott follows, then Rob, Henrik and me. There is a southerly flow in our face, so Mike pulls an easy 19-20 to the first set of buildings. The route ducks behind some condo towers and in the swirl, the speed climbs to 21. By now, the gaps are closed and the line becomes efficient. To be a part of this team, each member takes a turn on the nose, maximum effort into the wind. Macho and ego may play a part (of course it does), but it is the responsibility of the lead bike to keep up a respectable pace. If the leader on the nose sees the speed drop off, it is time to move left and signal the pace line up. A short respectable pull is more appreciated than a longer pull that slows down the line.

As the leader moves off the nose and back to the rear of the pace line, it is important to maintain enough speed to hook on the back and close the gap. A brief lapse in concentration and the pace line can run right past. If too much space opens up, the last rider might lose the wheel in front and suddenly find themselves “off the back.” Fighting the wind solo to regain the wheel in front may be beyond the rider, especially coming off the nose in front. In another minute, the current leader will be cycling back. Gotta close the gap. If I could only catch Henrik’s wheel. 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet… in… hold the gap. Don’t lose the wheel again. Mike comes off the front, Scott moves up, Mike will be hooking up in another 30 seconds. Close the gap. If Mike hooks up and I lose Henrik’s wheel, we will both be “off the back.”

The interdependence of the team requires each member to show up rested and fit. Each team member is responsible for conditioning, nutrition, overall aerobic fitness and strength.

When you look at your team, do they show up rested and fit? Does each team member take responsibility for their own conditioning, to support the interdependencies of performance? Business projects often require long hours, focused concentration, dogged determination, stamina. Success requires a clear head. It takes more than a willingness to close the gaps. It takes fitness (mental and physical) to execute, to move the bike (project). How fit is your team? What does fitness look like for you?

We were running north with a hint of a tailwind. Glancing at the bike computer, we were running an easy 23 mph. Six cyclists in a pace line. The lead cyclist was creating the forward wind tunnel, expanding larger as each team member passed through. Even with a 5 mph tail, at 23, we still had 18 mph of head wind. The efficiency of the pace line allowed the team to run quicker than a single cyclist alone. The leader on the nose can put maximum effort into the wind, with the rest of the pack safely tucked in behind. The pace line rotates its leader to keep fresh legs up front.

In the dark, the approaching car was easy to see, its headlights piercing out from a hidden driveway. The halogen beams continued to brighten the road in front. We could see the car, the car couldn’t see us.

“Car right! Car right!” echoed off the passing buildings. The pace line, which had been a steady snake for the past 7 minutes suddenly began to bunch, alternating riders cheated left and right. “Slowing!” yelled the lead. Each rider focused simultaneously on bike separation, an escape path and the intersecting car. What would happen next? The riders were bunched, speed had dropped to 18, the efficient wind tunnel disappeared, each bike now flaring its own path into the resistant air.

The headlights stopped. The lead rider made eye contact with the driver and held up a stopping hand. The driver clicked to high beam and back to low.

The lead rider came out of his saddle and pressed hard into the wind, pushing back to 20. The second rider came back from the left and tucked in behind the lead 24 inches off the wheel. Each successive rider adjusted position, pressing into the forming tunnel.

If I could just catch Henrik’s wheel. The last rider hooks on and yells, “I’m on.” Rider 4 yells, “We’re on,” and the lead hammers back to 23. In the short space of 8 seconds, the pace line approached danger, lost its effectiveness, then regrouped into a highly interdependent efficient team.

How does your team run its pace line? When circumstances throw it off course, how quickly does it react to protect itself? How does your team re-establish its operating groove? What is communication like? How quickly does the wind tunnel return? Does your team practice this drill? –TF

The first realization of a new rider is the impact of the team. A team of slower riders will always sustain a longer faster throughput than a single faster rider. Four slower riders can travel further faster than a single faster rider.

We have all heard the acronyms, like TEAM (Together Everyone Achieves More)…(gag me with a spoon). In cycling it is really true. When Lance Armstrong talks about his team in winning the Tour de France, he is not just blowing smoke up somebody’s skirt. He is dead serious. Without the team, Lance Armstrong is just one single fast rider. With a team, he can win the Tour de France.

The single biggest factor impacting speed on a bike is wind resistance. New riders think they have to buy a lighter bicycle with a composite frame to go faster, but the simple fact is, if you want to go faster, build a team. The key to speed is wind resistance. As a rider travels, a short wind tunnel is created behind. The faster the speed, the longer the wind tunnel, as much as 24-36 inches off the back of the rider. A second rider, who can maintain a position in that short wind tunnel, only has to work 80% effort to keep the same speed as the lead rider. In cycling, that’s huge.

After a few minutes on the nose (into the wind), the lead rider will tire and no longer be able to maintain the pace. That’s where teamwork plays in. As the lead rider feels the pace slip, movement to the left is initiated and a quick hand signal confirms that it is time for the second rider to pull into the lead. It’s like a handoff without a baton. The second rider moves from 80% to 100% effort and takes the lead, thanking the lead rider for the “pull,” then hammering down to set the pace. The leader, now off the nose, allows the pace line to move up, then initiates right into a position at the rear. With four riders in a pace line, the ex-leader now enjoys a number of successive wind tunnels in front and will enjoy the same speed with 75% effort.

In 1-3 minutes, the new leader will tire and pull to the left allowing the pace line to move, always maintaining maximum speed. The leader working 100%, the rest of the pace line reserving energy for their turn on the nose. This simple cooperation will move a team of slower cyclists past a single rider every time. Every time.

How do your teams work? Do they truly understand their leverage? Do they truly understand their sustained throughput as a team? Do they understand how small bits of cooperative effort gain advantage over smaller, weaker teams? Something to think about at the next team meeting.

If I can just catch Henrik’s wheel. Another two feet and I can tuck in behind the protection of the pace line. Press harder, rotate faster. 95, 98, 101. The gap closes, 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet. I am in the draft. The wind becomes quiet. I made it to Henrik’s wheel.

I tell my friends I took up the sport of cycling, but that description doesn’t tell the story. This is no casual ride on a bicycle.

The group assembles at 5:00am. In a few minutes, this group will become a team. As a team, they can go faster and further than the fastest single rider. They will cooperate, communicate and take turns as the leader. Each rider brings a tuned machine and a tuned body. As a team member, they are responsible to the group for focused concentration, each responsible for the safety of the team, for pulling, closing gaps and calling hazards.

This is the story of a team. This may be a story about your team. This is the story of Henrik’s wheel.

If you were with us in the early days of this blog, you may remember that, on Friday, I always posted something related to cycling. I know it was selfish, but cycling is also my passion.

I was sitting with a guy from the Navy Construction Battalion (Seabees) at breakfast this past Monday. He is a Harley Davidson fanatic, had a bike that he rides as often as he can, boasting 30,000 miles. I said, “Yeah, I’ve got a bike, only 23,000 on the frame.”

He smiled, knowing he had bested me out of the gate, “What kind of bike do you have?”

“Trek,” I replied, waiting for reality to set in. I could see him searching, for a motorcycle named Trek, then it cleared the threshold.

Tomorrow begins the Tour de France. You can find my early posts on cycling under the category of Henrik’s Wheel. Henrik is my favorite wheel. When I am tired, I can always find a place to rest in his draft. When I get complacent, I can always expect No Mercy. Henrik is leaving Sunday on a 750 mile ride with a 90 hour cutoff. The California Gold Rush. Not for the faint at heart.

July 4th, is a US holiday, but also kicks off the Tour de France. Once again, my hometown hero is in the mix. Lance Armstrong is 37 years old, out of retirement after 3 years, broke his collarbone early in 2009, still raced in the Giro d’Italia, 12th place overall.

So, why after winning 7 previous tours and then retiring, does he want to race again? It could be to win number 8, but his team is committed to Alberto Contador as the team leader. So why?

Each of us faces that same question. Why do we do what we do? It is our interest. It is our passion. We cannot stop. -Tom Foster