The True Reality of Climbing: A Coach’s Guide

The Introduction: The Pogačar Delusion

We need to talk about gravity. It is the one constant in cycling. You can hide from the wind in a bunch, but you cannot draft gravity.

First, a reality check. Unless your surname is Pogačar and you can sustain 6+ W/kg across multiple mountain ranges, climbing is slow. Really slow.

TV cameras distort speed. When the pros attack, they are flying. When we climb, even when fit, we are moving at a fraction of that speed. Prepare yourself to feel like a Tortoise, not a Hare. If you try to run before you can walk, the mountain will chew you up.

1. The Mechanics: Do You Have the Gears?

Before we talk about technique, we have to talk about mechanics. You cannot climb efficiently if you are grinding at 40rpm.

• The Check: Don't guess. Use the Cycling Gear Calculator to see if your current cassette can actually handle the gradients you are about to ride. If the computer says "Walk," change your cassette.

• 
  

2. The Science of the "Boil in the Bag" Cyclist

"Why does 200 watts on a climb feel twice as hard as 200 watts on the flat?"

It isn't just the legs; it's the heat. Your body is an engine, and unfortunately, it’s not a very efficient one. For every watt of power you push into the pedals, you produce roughly three to four watts of waste heat.

• On the Flat: You are moving fast. You generate your own 30kph headwind, which rushes over you, evaporating sweat and stripping heat away instantly.

• On the Climb: You are doing 10kph (if you’re lucky). The airflow stops. Suddenly, that heat has nowhere to go. You start to bake.

The sweat that usually evaporates now drips onto your Garmin screen, causing it to "ghost scroll" through data pages without you touching it. Your sunglasses develop that salty inner smear that looks like a snail has walked across them.

Speaking of snails, you are moving at a snail's pace, so the sun beats down on your back with zero respite. We haven't even hit midday in July yet, and you are already cooking.

3. The Freeze-Thaw Effect (Or: Why Altitude is Weird)

So, you have spent 90 minutes baking yourself to reach the summit. You are soaked to the bone. Now gravity decides to play a cruel joke.

It might have been 30°C when you left the valley floor, but for every 100 metres you climb, the temperature drops by roughly 1°C. At 2,000m, it’s only 10°C.

You zip up your gilet, clip in, and plunge into the descent.

• The Joy: For 10 minutes, life is amazing. Speed, adrenaline, cooling air.

• The Reality: That sweat-soaked base layer acts like a refrigerator. You go from "Boil in the Bag" to "Deep Freeze" instantly.

• 
  

4. The "Jarvis Cocker" Leg Syndrome

Then you hit the valley floor. The road flattens out, or worse, tilts up for the next col.

You try to push the pedals, but there is nothing there. The sudden transition from the spin-cycle of the descent to the torque of climbing is a shock to the system. You realise you have left your legs at the top of the last mountain, much like Jarvis Cocker lost his brain somewhere in a field in Hampshire.

Only two mountains to go. Then you can tell yourself you love climbing again.

5. Comfort is King

Because you are going to be out there for hours (see "Tortoise" above), there is no hiding from a poorly set up bike.

On the flat, you move around. On a climb, gravity pins you in one position.

• The Reach: If your bars are too low (the "Slam That Stem" look), your lower back will scream.

• The Saddle: A saddle that feels "fine" on a rolling UK club run becomes an instrument of torture when the angle of the road forces you to sit differently.

• 
  

Prioritise comfort over looking "aero." No one cares how low your front end is if you can't straighten your back at dinner.

6. The Hairpin Secret (Don’t Make the Goat Laugh)

Finally, use the road. Hairpins are the only free energy you get.

• Go Wide: Sweep wide to the outer edge of the corner. The gradient is significantly flatter there.

• Watch the Toes: If you turn too tightly on the steep inside line, watch for toe overlap.

There is nothing quite as humiliating as catapulting yourself over the bars at 8kph because your shoe hit your front wheel (I've done it and broke two ribs; luckily the bike was unharmed). The local goats have seen it all before, and yes, they are laughing at you.

7. The Psychological Warfare of the "Borne"

If you are climbing a classic French col, you will meet the famous white and yellow milestones (bornes) every kilometre. They tell you the altitude, the distance to the summit, and the average gradient for the next kilometre.

They are helpful, but they are also liars.

If the sign says "Average: 7%," do not relax. That could mean 500 metres at 14% followed by 500 metres of flat.

If you mentally prepare for a steady 7% and round the corner into a wall, your morale will break. Treat those signs as a rough guide, not a promise.

And if you see a sign that says 11%? Well, you best hope the maths I used to put the Cycling Gear Calculator together is correct, or you may very well be walking.

8. The "No Excuses" Reality Check

Speaking of walking, consider the alternative...

I took the photo above on a camp in the Pyrénées. Yes, those are men on inline skates. And yes, they made it all the way to the top of the Col de Pailhères (2,001m).

If they can grind their way to the summit on tiny wheels with no gears, you can certainly do it on two big wheels. So quit your complaining and turn those pedals ;)

Don't Leave Your Legs in the Valley

Reading about the suffering is one thing; preparing for it is another.

If you are targeting a specific event like the Étape du Tour, or just want to ensure you enjoy the mountains rather than merely survive them, I can help.

From bespoke Coaching to guided rides here in the Haut-Languedoc, let's make sure you are ready for the reality of the road.