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The Roar

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Virtual Reality: Strava queens and InstaPrinces

Steve Thomas new author
Roar Rookie
5th May, 2013
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Steve Thomas new author
Roar Rookie
5th May, 2013
10

Lured into a lurid world, the virtual world of Stravaism, a place where digital cyclists live statistical lives, often oblivious to the glory of Mother Nature and the open road…

They train, not ride, but for what – a tailwind day and a KOM?

For a long old time I’d resisted the temptation to get drawn into this dark side of cycling, but just like any other drug or bad habit I fell into it due to peer pressure, or rather, a lack of choice when I was cornered in an informational dead-end.

For me, there is no need for Stravaholics Anonymous: I didn’t swallow the potion, just started it and then spat it straight back out when nobody was looking, just like I did with my first puff of a cigarette when I was a kid – I already knew there would be no second hit, no matter how hard the playground bullies and dealers tried to push more on me, building in me, they hoped, an addiction.

And so yes, I’m a registered Stravaholic, yet one who has never logged a ride or even attempted to – I beat it before it got a hold of me; my rides are still pure and vague, flexible and fun, and I see the world around me.

I smell the cow dung on the road and hear the birds tweet (not on an iPod or through twitter) and take it all in – without posting it all to Facebook.

I’ve seen enough addicts, guys and girls living out these strange existences where they rage against the machine, and then do their dirty washing in public, and to an extent I do get it – but I also have a real life, away from the screen.

OK, maybe not much of one, or so it may seem at times, but why the hell would I want to ruin my rides and my personal life by logging it all for the world to see?

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Half way through writing a magazine article and I found myself in search of a little local ride info for an area out of my remit, and approached a “Facebook friend” – or rather a friend of a friend through chat – another place I was determined not to get dragged into (but now unwillingly am a fully paid up member).

There was a certain digital and clinically stagnated lean to the chat. It was all stats – Watts and KOM’s the whole way – not so much as a passing mention of the great scenery or the nice café stop.

I was pointed to his Strava page in order to see the rides (and had to sign up). Sure it was informative statistically, but I couldn’t help but think he was riding a whole different ride to me – it may as well have been a computerised challenge, it really was not about the ride, it was about the data and the figures.

Once click of a button and I’m now following half the cycling world – the other half, meantime, are probably out doing what they should be – sapping up the ride. I

t’s gotten to the point where 30% of my Facebook feed is filled with people logging their Strava activity – even minimal rides to work, as if most people are really interested too?

Needless to say I’ve slowly started blocking these feeds – it’s just way too much information.

Another 30% of my Facebook feed is filled with the Instaprinces; the guys (and gals) who like post endless crap pictures on themselves out on a mundane Starva pot hunt – you know them, the hand held up behind them, lovely view of the back of their helmet, a mates arse, and the road, all filtered over like moldy old dough… they’re as irritating as the habitual food snappers. Oh wait a minute, they are the food snappers too – more blocked feeds.

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I’ve been riding and racing bikes for 35 years; I have a Garmin, an iPhone and have had computers on my bike since they had a big cable and a click dial to count down the miles, but I‘ve never wanted to inflict my stats on anybody else, and I know when people are bored of my holiday snaps.

In fact I’ve had the Garmin for 8 years now, and it’s never been out of the house, and I’ve never set an app rolling to “map my ride” either.

Half of my life is spent in front of an evil little computer screen, it’s how I make my living – when I get on my bike the last thing I want to do is drag that already blurred grey line further out.

What goes on the road stays on the road.

I wish, for their own sakes, that Stravaholics and Instaprinces would go naked sometime, suck in the air and feel the ride, and go home with a grin – forget the stats and “sharing”.

They might see a whole different side to cycling.

You don’t know what they’ll find to hook you with next, but resist it. Go get a life guys, while you still can – you might even like it!

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