What It's Like To Compete In A Virtual Bike Race

Yeah, this whole live virtually thing is proving harder than we all imagined. JL

Jason Gay reports in the Wall Street Journal:

Well, it seemed like a good idea. They’d canceled a bike race in Brooklyn, owing to the coronavirus so now the event promoter was taking it from Prospect Park to the virtual cycling world of the computer program Zwift. In real life, races begin like we’re all going for a scone at a coffee shop, but in the digital world, everyone pedals from the jump like they stole a wallet. I wound up finishing 38th out of 42, which sounds ok, but the race was won by a rider who finished so far ahead of me, he had time to shower, eat dinner and watch the Godfather Parts I, II and III.

Well, it seemed like a good idea.

They’d canceled a bike race in Brooklyn, N.Y., last weekend, owing to the coronavirus and new rules about “social distancing,” so now the event promoter was taking it from the leafy real-life roadway of Prospect Park to the virtual cycling world of the computer program Zwift. Everyone who had intended to race outside could now race inside, so long as they had a bike, a stationary trainer so they could pedal in place, and some kind of screen to watch the action unfold.

It felt like a thing to do. Virtual sports have been building for years now, on all sorts of platforms, but they may take off now, as real-life sports have disappeared, and athletes and yahoos jonesing for competition are looking for outlets.

I should try to race, I said to myself, because I am an idiot.

My Journal colleagues were extremely supportive.

Is this part of your series in which you have embarrassing finishes in bike races? the Journal’s basketball writer, Ben Cohen, asked me.

This your first race since Natalie Morales dropped you in Rio, right? asked my boss, Bruce Orwall, referring to my near-upchuck embarrassment in an NBC Peloton class at the 2018 Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang.

It wasn’t. A year ago, I’d bailed out of the Fat Bike World Championships in Crested Butte, Colo., owing to the cold weather, the snow, and the fact that I am abjectly terrible at bike racing.

I should be clear: I’ve raced in a few bike races in my time, but don’t get the wrong idea. You know those old videos of chubby grizzly bears pedaling tricycles in the circus? Now imagine a human cycling more slowly. That’s me.

Still, I had some hopes for this virtual Brooklyn “Lucarelli & Castaldi Cup” throw-down. I am a semi-regular virtual cyclist, and after a few years of laziness and carb-binging which I blame exclusively on my children, I’d been getting myself into better shape. I’d registered with the easiest bracket in the race, and the competition was only three laps, 19 or so miles. I figured if nothing else, I would be able to hang in there, finish with the pack, and then I’d be able to thumb my nose at those Journal know-it-alls at the next Google Hangout, since that’s where everyone in WSJ Sports lives now, with their laptops and pajamas. I was not cocky, but I was optimistic I could pull it off, and do at least OK.

I didn’t do OK.

The thing about virtual racing is, it starts like a hellacious melee. In real life, races begin gradually, even casually, like we’re all going for a scone at a coffee shop, but in the digital world, everyone pedals from the jump like they stole a wallet. To say I was hanging on for dear life is disrespectful to my dear life. I was immediately struggling, on the verge of getting left behind, but then, the pack of racers began to slow down somewhat, and I was able to catch my breath.

And then, just as suddenly, the pack started riding hard again. My little digital avatar got left behind. I was dropped, pedaling all alone.

I’d, uh, “socially distanced” myself.

I faced a decision here: Hang in or abandon. I had 2½ laps to go. Fifteen or so miles, suffering all by myself, huffing and puffing in the basement as my kids and my wife upstairs ate tacos and played Candy Land.

Dropping out seemed a little pathetic, a missed opportunity, when everyone is craving any semblance of exercise and community. Every gym I know is closed; the fitness instructors post squats and burpees I can do at home, but it isn’t the same. I can pedal outside, but I’m supposed to ride on my own, and be extremely careful—no hospital wants a cyclist clickety-clacking into the ER with a busted collarbone.

What I’m saying is that it felt important to not give up. I began to channel the spirit of Pita Taufatofua, the Tongan taekwondo/cross-country skier/canoeist/glistening flag-bearer who has charmed the Olympic movement with a by-any-means-necessary will to finish. I hung in to the end. I wound up finishing 38th out of 42 overall, which doesn’t sound that bad, but I think racers 39, 40, 41 and 42 called it early and went to watch Netflix.

The race was won by a talented local rider named Mike Margarite, who I believe finished so far ahead of me, he had time to shower, eat dinner and watch the Godfather Parts I, II and III. “Zwift racing can be really tough,” Margarite said. “You miss the bike-handling elements, but it’s great for fitness. It’s a lot like [real life] racing, in the sense that riding in the pack is usually not super tough, but a solo move takes a big effort.”

“More intense than Prospect Park races,” another competitor, Eloy Anzola, told me, which made me feel marginally better about having to crawl upstairs after my virtual pedal.

These races sound strange, but they matter. This event’s organizer, Charlie Issendorf, is a longtime New York City promoter who has put on races in the city for a decade and a half; full of newbies, middle-agers, and, occasionally, stars-to-be, they are the grass-roots soul of the sport. Now they are shut down amid crisis. USA Cycling announced this week it won’t sign off on any real-life racing until May 3, and who knows if that is realistic. But Issendorf also works for Zwift, so flipping over to the virtual environment was a snap for him.

“Without a doubt, this is the most bizarre reason a race has been canceled,” Issendorf told me. “I’ve had to cancel races due to hurricanes, fallen trees on the course, I even had to cancel a race because of a movie shoot scheduled the same day as our race…but this takes the prize as the craziest reason I’ve canceled a race.”

It’s an adjustment, for everyone. In sports, in work, in home life, we’re learning to adapt amid a situation none of us really understands. We’re making this up as we go along. That’s why, last place or not, real life or virtual, it felt essential to hang in there.

We’re all hanging in there right now. Be well, everybody.