My partner and I are ride leaders for our triathlon team. This means that we take out newbies on short "long" rides of 10-30 miles about once a month, coach a spin class over winter and lead a hills ride every week during the season. Mostly we're there for the newbies who may still be learning how to clip in, or drink without stopping, or are afraid in traffic. We've each developed ways of teaching those basics to people that have been proven successful over nearly five years of coaching and we take delight in seeing people we taught those basics to, zip past us in a race because they're now faster than we are, or come in from their first century because they're training for an Ironman.
Just to be clear - we don't prepare training plans and we're not certified in anything except our addiction to cycling. But in the other ways of coaching - encouragement, advice, strategizing - we're coaches.
And we have different style of coaching. He, for instance, is kind and patient and polite. He rides up beside someone who's mashing their gears and introduces himself, makes small talk, then offers a suggestion that for XYZ reasons, you should change down a gear or two. Me, I ride up beside them and say "You're mashing - change down." That's a slight exaggeration. If the person is new, I'll explain why mashing isn't good and ask them about why they joined the team and what they're training for. But if you've been around for a while, you get the cliff's notes version.
My partner is a teacher, and I see the skills he's honed in the classroom in use every time we coach cyclists. He's particularly good at diagnosing why somebody acts in a particular way.
Here's a common conversation between us (not restricted to bike leading).
Me: So-and-so is an idiot.
Him: Yes, I've noticed that when such and such happens, (s)he tends to resort to this kind of behavior. I think it's because (s)he is feeling XYZ.
And he's also really good at crafting lessons (particularly regarding cycling) in a way that would suit that person's learning style.
I try to learn some of his skills, but I am also simply a far more WYSIWYG person and not particularly attune to the feelings or learning styles of others.
I think though that I have developed a coaching style that is kind of shaped like a triangle, with three sides (as opposed to those triangles with 4+ sides): wisdom, patience and caring. And at different times and with different people, one or more of those sides may be longer than another.
Wisdom: I know my shit. OK, ok, I don't know too much about bike geometry or compnenty, or (as evidenced today), at what pace someone has to ride to ride 30 miles in 90 minutes. But I've been around the block a time or two and have a LOT of miles under my saddle. I've made most of the mistakes out there and have experienced or witnessed the benefits of the type of training our team does and the principles of cadence, Z2 training, speed work, climbing and nutrition. I can climb (slowly, but I've earned my stripes), descend better than most, go hard and fast, and go long. So if I tell you something, you can pretty much take it to the bank. Yeah, yeah, yeah - there will always be something you can catch me out on, but if I tell you you're mashing or how to descend in a way that's safer and will boost your confidence, listen to me.
Patience: I know this surprised some of you, but I DO have patience. With two caveats: 1) You're new to the team or 2) You're showing that you're absorbing my wisdom (see above) and making an effort to learn. Progress is what I look for - your progress fuels my patience. Your progress doesn't have to be quick. I'm not looking to take a hybrid rider and turn them into an age group winner in a season. But if you show that you value my time and wisdom (see above), I will happily give you more of both. But if you turn around and ask someone else the same question because you don't like the answer I gave you, or if you ask me the same question again and again and again, or even demonstrate that you KNOW the answer, but don't really care to apply it, then forget it. I have plenty of new riders or vets who could use a refresher to give my time to.
Caring: I might not know you at first (especially if you start riding with the team in winter when we're all bundled up under layers of lycra and wool), but I really do care that this is a fun and worthwhile experience for you. I want you to leave that first ride and go "wow - totally worth the money - I learned so much today. And I actually enjoyed myself." I want you to do whatever it takes to get to the point where cycling is reward enough in itself (my entire first season was a series of calorific bribes to get me out there riding ever longer). And for the vets who have become my friends, well, I just care about you, period. So I offer advice on how to get better, faster, use less energy, feel safer, have more confidence … simply, how to move a step or two closer to loving cycling the way I do.
Wisdom | Patience | Caring. My coaching triangle.
I had a couple of experiences today that have helped me articulate this. I won't describe the annoyingly negative one, but the positive one was pretty cool. A friend, who I care about a lot, is a very experienced athlete. I wouldn't have thought my wisdom was of any use to her at all. But last season, I noticed her fear of descending and spent some time riding oh so slowly behind her, beside her, in front of her, coaching her down a magnificent yet scary descent. And today, as we passed each other on the road, she called out to me "No brakes, Mary!" That kind of thing, along with those innumerable people who are now far exceeding even their wildest cycling dreams--who I remember riding in cages, or to whom I once gave the "nutrition lecture," or who took their first tumble on a ride with me--is what keeps me going as a coach.
So, I guess this whole post is a long and involved apology for yelling at you. If that doesn't work for you, next time, ride with Mark.
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