On Saturday the mail lady brought me a new pair of thick fleece-lined neoprene booties and toasty windproof cycling gloves. It was a very chilly day with a stiff wind, and would have been a good day to try them with a ride. But the press of work prevented me from hitting the dry, ice-free roads. I thought that come Sunday I’d be able to try my new bike warmies.

Sunday dawned with a few snowflakes drifting lazily over the landscape, but not enough to prevent a ride. By the time I’d finished my first cuppa, though, this sight greeted me when I looked out the window:

 

 
The photo looks grainy, and so it is—with blowing snow. That dirty streak in the foreground is a street, by the way. Hard to tell for all the snow on it. Right after I shot the photo, a pickup truck crept past, its rear end fishtailing. A car followed, barely able to climb the barely perceptible slope. Uh uh, I thought, no way I’m riding a bike in that.

I try to ride a bike most days, but in winter ice and snow, it’s not safe to challenge the right-of-way with harried, scared motorists. If winter begins early and bears down with a heavy fist, as it has this year, then I don’t get much time in the saddle. How frustrating to work so hard from April through October to manage weight and to build up stamina and muscle, only to see that progress evaporate in short order. What’s a devoted cyclist to do? Hit the gym! The home gym, that is.

 

 
I won’t try to fool you. Riding a stationary bike is not anything like riding a real bike. The nowhere bike has a heavy flywheel and a set of padded calipers that regulate resistance. Pedaling this kind of stationary bike is like pedaling the bike you had as a kid. There’s no freehub, which means that if the flywheel is spinning, the pedals spin as well. Stop pedaling when that freewheel is ripping along and you’ll yank your knees from their attachment points—unless you lift your feet quickly from the pedals and get them out of the way. A handbrake on the ‘bars lets you gracefully and gradually bring the flywheel to a stop.

With a fan set up in front to help prevent overheating, the nowhere bike fits into a narrow slot between the living room window and the couch, and faces the TV to help pass the time. The main problem I have motivating myself to ride nowhere is conquering the boredom. Sure, I can put on a Spinervals® DVD and let Coach Troy harangue me into pushing myself. I can pop a disk or tape into the player and watch a bicycling flick. Or I can switch on the TV and watch Lidia or Jacques or Ming and improve my cooking skills. But every minute on the nowhere bike is still an exercise in overcoming tedium.

 

 
Riding nowhere next to the window as chickadees flit past and snow falls is nothing like being outside with the wind ruffling my jacket. It’s hot work, and deadly boring. But it’s a lot better than letting my quads atrophy. And it will help me work off the holiday goodies that temp my tastebuds. I’m sure I’ll be glad to have put in the effort once I’m again riding outside.