I’ll admit it: I respond well to gamification, whether that’s keeping my streak of consecutive days of meditation alive on Insight Timer or—more pertinent to this forum—my indoor cycling on Zwift.

This fall Zwift added 25 new achievements to their existing set. The new ones are based on completing specific routes, which earn both an achievement badge as well as bonus experience points. A sucker for XP, I recently finished completing the entire set.

Of Zwift’s known cycling achievements, I’ve earned 57, leaving 7 badges that I’ve yet to achieve. And therein lies the rub.

Liftoff badge

One of them is simply a matter of time. Once you’ve climbed Alpe du Zwift—Zwift’s in-game copy of France’s Alpe d’Huez—25 times, you earn the “Masochist” badge. It’s a tough climb, but no problem there; I’ve already ridden it 11 times.

The second badge is too stupid to consider: the “Everest" badge for climbing the height of the world’s tallest mountain in a single ride. That’s the equivalent of nine Alpes back-to-back, which would probably take me more than 15 hours. That’s not fun; that’s just flat-out stupid.

Four of the remaining badges have to do with sprinting power. I’m no sprinter, but I’ve already earned the 500, 600, 700, and 800 watt badges; however, there are additional ones for hitting 900, 1000, 1100, and 1200 watts. I might conceivably earn the 900W badge, but it’d require a lot of force, shaking the trainer and possibly damaging my bike. But beyond that, I’m okay admitting I’ve never been capable of sprinting that hard.

And then there’s the final badge—the one that really irritates me—the “Liftoff” badge (above) that you earn for climbing the Alpe du Zwift in less than 60 minutes.

As of today, I’ve made 11 ascents, with an average time of 69 minutes and a best time of 62m46s. I’ve tried really hard, and come tantalizingly close.

It takes about 3 W/kg to break 60 minutes. At my weight, that means sustaining 230W for the whole hour. But my FTP—which is literally my maximum sustainable power over an hour—ranges around 200 to 220W. Unless I somehow get 5% stronger without gaining weight—or reduce my weight by 6% without losing any strength—the numbers unequivocally state that I cannot break the 60 minute barrier. Neither of those options are particularly feasible, and I’m not getting any younger here, folks.

And it’s pissing me off. I have no problem letting go of ludicrously stupid goals like Everesting; and I’m not bothered by challenges that are categorically impossible for me, like (literally) kilowatt sprinting.

But it’s this goal that’s perpetually just out of reach that irks me: something I could have done five or ten years ago, but can’t seem to surpass. It’s just too close to simply let it go and walk away from this particular challenge. So like a cycling Sisyphus, I keep destroying myself by attempting it—on the off chance it might happen—even though I know it will probably remain beyond my ability as an aging cyclist.

Psychologically, there’s a vociferous part of me that just can’t accept that it’s beyond me. I’m frustrated as hell; not so much because I can’t surpass the challenge, but because I keep listening to that goddamned voice and trying…

Until five months ago, I didn’t have a power meter, so training with power just wasn’t possible. Even today, I don’t have a power meter on the bike—just on the indoor trainer—but that’s enough to start drawing inferences from the power data I’ve generated over the winter.

One analytical tool for interpreting a cyclist’s power data is their Power Curve. Thankfully, it’s conceptually simple and easy to explain: it looks at your power data and plots your maximum power output (in watts) over every duration, from one second to an hour or more.

All riders can sustain maximum power for very short intervals (think finish-line sprints), but lower power at durations of one to five minutes, and less still for sustained efforts of 30 to 60 minutes or more.

That means the Power Curve looks similar for all riders: starting high, sloping sharply downward, then tailing off gradually. Plot a novice rider and a professional cyclist on the same chart, and there wouldn’t be much difference in the shape their lines, other than the pro’s being shifted higher due to their higher power output.

For insight into how it might be useful, let’s look at my current Power Curve (click for full-size):

Ornoth's Power Curve

There are essentially two ways of looking at this information: how much power can I expect to produce for a specific duration; or conversely, how long can I expect to hold a specific power level?

In my case, for a 10-second sprint I can produce 800W, but for a 60-second sprint I can only sustain half that. For a 10-minute max effort I could expect 260W, about 235W for an hour, dropping down to 165W for anything longer than two hours.

Those estimates all hold whether I’m trying to figure out how much power I could hold for a specific time, or how long I might be able to sustain a specific power output.

That’s great information for planning a workout or figuring out how to pace yourself on a max-effort ride; however, it doesn’t tell you anything about my individual strengths and weaknesses or how I compare to other cyclists. To do that, we need to introduce comparative data, which is provided by additional research.

Through empirical testing, a team of researchers—including the well-regarded physiologist Andrew Coggan—calculated expected athletic performance ranges for power output at durations of 5 seconds, 1 minute, 5 minutes, and an hour. Comparing an athlete’s Power Curve against those calculated norms yields an understanding of an individual rider’s strengths and weaknesses.

The research team took riders with similar strengths and weaknesses and aggregated them into commonly-recognizable categories which in true scientific fashion they gave the officious label “phenotypes”. An athlete who excelled at short efforts was a sprinter; whereas someone producing above average power over an hour would be a good time trialist, climber, or steady-state endurance rider; and someone with equal performance across the entire time spectrum would be an all-rounder.

So what can I learn about myself from my own chart?

Ornoth's Phenotype

The obvious first conclusion is that I’m no professional athlete! My 5-second sprint is pretty pedestrian, and my 1-minute power doesn’t even register on the chart! However, my 5-minute power is in the upper half of the “Fair” range, and over 60 minutes I’m a fraction below “Moderate”. In comparison with professional athletes, that’s pretty impressive for a 55 year-old!

The chart shows that although I might lose a two-up sprint with a corpse, I will have unequivocally stronger results the longer an event goes. That marks me as a time trialist, climber, and/or endurance rider: something that shouldn’t surprise anyone who knows anything about my riding style and history. But it’s nice to have that confirmed by quantitative data.

For any athlete who is given this data, the next question is what to do with it; and the answer is a resounding “Do whatever you want.” Do you want to work on strengthening those areas where you are weakest, to improve your overall performance? Or do you want to maximize your strengths to derive the most benefit from them? That’s entirely up to you.

Since my cycling goals are mostly limited to centuries and 200ks, I’m perfectly happy continuing to work my endurance, and living in Western Pennsylvania is guaranteed to build up my power over short, steep climbs.

Armed with this new understanding of the wattages I can sustain over specific durations, I could put a power meter on my bike to get live power readings, which would allow me to perfectly gauge and pace my efforts in real-time. That expense will probably have to wait until the next bike, tho.

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