My Speed Route

Right after my first attempts, I realized that if I wanted to improve, I’d have to structure my training – at least as much as my schedule allowed. Hiring a coach wasn’t an option – too expensive and completely outside my time frame. The best I could do was "sacrifice" a ride every now and then for interval training or heavy-gear sprints. This meant 10–20 seconds at max power followed by a few minutes of "recovery" riding. And heavy gear? The classic approach – shift a few gears up and see how much stress my legs could take before they started cursing me.

But this annoyed me because it always ruined my average speed (I know, cyclists are nuts). Plus – training sprints and KOM attempts is great, but endurance is the real key. So, I came up with my very own "speed route". The route is just under 30 km and has everything.

A city section where I have to maneuver like a ninja on two wheels, a beautiful open road where I can really let loose, cobblestones that rattle your bones, and a climb – 1.25 km at a 3.3% average gradient. And for fun? Two segments with an 8.5% grade short ascent. Yum. Then there’s a great downhill section and a long, gradual climb on premium asphalt. Strategically designed to either entertain you... or destroy you.

I had a plan: endurance with bursts of explosiveness where it was needed. I had already logged some good times on this route, but this time it was official. I had to cement it as my official test track. The goal was clear: an average speed above 30 km/h. Not impossible, but it required some effort.

As it tends to happen, the fun started just a few kilometers in. I ran into an elderly driver going 30 km/h. Nothing against cautious drivers, but I couldn’t overtake him, so any hope of a fast start was dashed. Great start, really.

A few kilometers later – a car from a side street ran a red light and stopped with its nose halfway into my lane. Oh, come on! I hit the brakes hard, along with the cars in front of me. Fantastic. The universe was really testing me that day. But hey, I thought, let's keep going. What else could go wrong... right?

I entered Nehvizdy, and traffic slowed to a crawl. I started overtaking cars one by one, but instead of cruising at 40 km/h, I was barely hitting 20. And to top it off – it was unbearably hot. A classic August day – scorching asphalt, radiating cars, and not a breath of wind. Usually, when cycling, you get a refreshing breeze, but at these slow speeds... I felt like a roasted chicken.

I finally fought my way to the front, only to find out there had been an accident, and the police were directing traffic. Awesome. My 30 km/h challenge was officially doomed.

But then one of the officers gave me a wave, signaling that I could bypass the scene by taking the sidewalk. Well, I wasn’t about to argue with an exception to the rules. Suddenly, I was past the accident – and the road ahead of me was clear. Time to make up for lost time!

I spotted a car at a side street. The driver was looking right, signaling left, but didn’t even glance at the main road – where I was. At the very last second, she looked up and locked eyes with me. Braking? Out of the question. I wouldn’t be able to bring my Ultimate to full stop. I sped past her, and we both shared the same expression: “What the heck just happened?!”

My heart was pounding, adrenaline was surging, and my legs were pedaling on autopilot. It was my first negative experience with a distracted driver. It rattled me, but I kept going. I had a significant speed deficit to make up.

I turned onto the cobblestone section. The vibrations rattled my very soul, but I pushed through like a madman. I sped through Vyšehořovice and arrived at that cursed hill. By the time I reached it, my tongue was hanging out of my jersey, and I’d unzipped it for some air. The climb was pure torture. I hadn’t felt this bitter about a hill in a long time. My effort to make up for lost time had drained my strength.

The next section had cracked asphalt, so high speeds weren’t an option. But finally – my salvation: the downhill. At last! 45+ km/h and no effort needed. My legs got a brief break. But then...

I saw a bus ahead. No way! And in a section where overtaking was impossible. It was crawling at 25 km/h, and I was stuck behind it. When it finally pulled into a stop, it felt like a starter’s gun went off. I launched forward.

By this point, my legs had nothing left for the hills. I climbed them in an easy gear and focused on making up speed on the flats. Finally, I reached the last gradual climb. No cars ahead, no cars behind. Bliss. I moved to the center of the lane and flew forward as if there were a medal, a lifetime supply of chocolate, and a brand-new bike waiting at the finish line.

I turned onto my street, knowing I’d given it everything. I stopped in front of my house, ended the ride on my Apple Watch, and nervously checked Strava:

30.7 km/h.

What?! Oh yes! I was over the moon. And all that... for such a silly thing, right?

What made me even happier? I’ve ridden that route twice since then. And each time, I’ve been faster than the last. I guess another challenge is in store for spring. Actually... all it takes is for the temperature to stay above freezing. Otherwise, you won’t see me outside. Nope.

Of course, I say that... but at the same time, I’ve got a tab open for a merino cycling balaclava. So, I guess I’ll be cold for a bit...

but It’s only pain.