Seated awheel, the bicyclist feels master of the situation. The bicycle obeys the slightest impulse, moving at will, almost without conscious effort, virtually as much a part of the rider, and as easily under control, as hand or foot. It is because weight is supported and friction overcome that the bicyclist loses consciousness of effort as he moves, with seemingly no limit to endurance.

A trouble often experienced is breathlessness. For this there are several causes. Sometimes the machine is started too hurriedly and before the processes of the body have had time to adjust themselves. To work easily, the muscles must be heated gradually, until they are brought to the proper point of tension. Again, the easy movement of the wheel often causes the cyclist to become oblivious of the fact that the muscles are working quickly while doing easy work, that the power applied is being converted into speed with little appreciable effort, until suddenly his breath becomes labored, and a halt must be made for rest. We need not attempt here to give the figures for power expended and work done, though both factors may be estimated.

Technically, effort is a physiological condition involving complicated chemical changes and concentration of power. The work of the lungs is done mechanically, automatically, is muscular work, involving chemical changes and giving chemical results. We breathe in air full of oxygen; we exhale air loaded with carbonic acid. Muscular effort produces carbonic acid through chemical changes in the tissues of the body. The oxygen of the air, taken into the lungs to purify the blood, is absorbed and stored. Easy muscular movements give off a limited quantity of carbonic acid and other products, but not more than can be eliminated without readjustment of processes. When a succession of efforts is made, involving the manufacture of larger quantities of carbonic acid, the eliminating capacity is correspondingly taxed.

In making an effort, the lungs become momentarily fixed, and their regular respiratory movement is suspended. Carbonic acid is held, not given off, and a feeling of suffocation is observed. Unless respiration is restored by a pause, poisoning by the waste products ensues, they being reabsorbed, and inducing discomfort and fatigue. Working with effort, the lungs should be free to expand and contract. To this end it is all-important to exhale, expelling the air from the lungs by compression of the chest after severe exertion. Air rushes naturally into the chest cavity; attention, therefore, should be directed, not to getting in air, but to expelling the air already in the lungs. This successfully done assists materially in bringing about that desirable condition known as “second wind,” and gives control over the muscles of the chest, which enables waste products to be readily eliminated.

“The intensity of breathlessness during exercise is in direct proportion to the expenditure of force demanded by the exercise in a given time.” Breathlessness is due to power expended in a limited time. This, at least, is one of the inducing causes. On the bicycle, power is converted into speed. In hill-climbing, shortness of wind is due not so much to position on the wheel as to the amount of power expended in doing the work. If power is wasted, the work attempted is usually not accomplished; if intelligently expended, the work is done easily and well, leaving the bicyclist in condition to renew the effort when necessary.

Hill-climbing is like stair-climbing; power is expended in a succession of efforts made in raising the weight on an ascending plane. The weight must be lifted, either pushed up or pulled up, and the respiratory need is increased. The hill-climber must aim to mount with as little effort as possible and to make the ascent with the minimum expenditure of power.

Rapidly increased heart-beat is accompanied by deeply inflated lungs and a tendency the bicyclist should guard against to work open-mouthed. Here the question of tight clothing comes prominently forward. Sitting erect and holding by the handle-bars, the bicyclist’s upper chest muscles are held comparatively fixed or rigid; the arms, being used for support, act as levers holding down the upward expansion of the chest. The air, being compressed, is forced laterally and downward. The downward expansion of the chest is checked by the movement of pedaling, there being a constant upward pressure in the ascending stroke and an increased muscular compression in the descending stroke. With a tight belt, the breathing is chiefly upward, and downward when sitting or walking, the lateral expansion depending on the width and compression of the belt.

When working on a bicycle, with the hands fixed and holding hard, the upper chest is comparatively rigid, the muscles below the diaphragm hard at work; and muscles at work do not admit of compression, which prevents the diaphragm from moving downward. The diaphragm is a muscular wall, stretched across the trunk below the lung cavity and near the waist-line. If the lower muscles of the trunk are actively at work, the diaphragm can be distended but a little way in a downward direction by lung pressure. The air in the lungs, which are hard at work, and over-full, presses against the heart, and makes harder work for that organ. When the lungs are distended, any clothing that can be felt about the waist exerts more or less pressure. The lungs of a bicyclist at work are constantly distended, seldom deflated, and an equal pressure is exerted in all directions. The diaphragm is forced downward, pressure comes on the large blood-vessels, and the legs feel tired as one of the results of the constriction. Pressure on the heart and the large blood vessels of the lung cavity causes rush of blood to the head and gives a heated look to the face and a feeling of faintness and headache.

The muscles of the waist are elastic, but lose their elasticity when not in use. Fat accumulates, and is pressed down, usually below the belt, causing the muscles of the figure to sag and the trunk to lose its proper lines. Compression of the waist while cycling is dangerous, and will cause enlargement of the hips and distort the lines of the figure below and above the waist. If tight clothing must be worn, do not wear it while exercising any more than while sleeping.

Bicycling is a great equalizer of tissue. The system, when this exercise is moderately indulged, is freshened as is a city by a heavy rain, all accumulations and deposits being swept away.

There is a difference, a very great difference, between muscular fatigue and breathlessness, and the two conditions should not be confused. Breathlessness is general fatigue; muscular fatigue is fatigue localized. When you are breathless, all your muscles are tired; they do not want to work and are indeed incapable of performing work. Work performed by the lower limbs causes breathlessness more quickly than any other kind of exertion, and the bicyclist must bear this fact in mind. The respiratory need is increased in proportion to the amount of carbonic acid in the blood. The lower limbs can perform a great deal of work in a few seconds, the large masses of muscle in the legs at work throwing large quantities of carbonic acid into the blood to be given off or eliminated by the lungs.

Each individual has his own limit or pace, at which he can do work most easily. If this pace is exceeded, effort follows and increased expenditure of power; a greater quantity of carbonic acid is produced to be given off; and fatigue is induced sooner than when working at the pace which can be kept without extraordinary exertion. Every bicyclist knows his own natural pace, and when departing from that must expect to be winded sooner or later.

Rapid work on the bicycle is similar, as muscular exertion, to running, racing, speeding, and sprinting. Here we have the time limit,—great speed produced in a short time; tissue consumed, and carbonic acid produced in large quantities to be quickly eliminated. Increased effort means more power expended. The fixed lung cavity means lessened capacity for increased air-consumption and greatly lessened means of inhaling and expelling air. One of the effects produced by carbonic acid in the blood is a stimulation to increased effort, which causes a desire to prolong work after reasonable limits have been exceeded, a feeling that more must be done, rather than a desire to stop and rest.

Second wind is the condition produced by the adjustment of the processes of the body to the new state of exertion, where the heart and lungs balance and work according to the demands of the new condition. A pendulum, slipped on its spindle and let go, swings irregularly until it finds its new rhythm. The rhythm that corresponds with its weight, momentum and length of spindle, leverage, is the rhythm of the work. All repeated work has a rhythm, and the movement disturbed requires a little time for readjustment. The heart and lungs work automatically and rhythmically, and any new movement disturbs their rhythm, which must be adjusted for change of occupation or exercise until the balance of the working functions is established.

The second wind usually comes after the first fifteen minutes of work. Quickly acquired, it means rapid and easy adjustment of processes, a quick response to effort, and little power wasted. Though individuals differ in this respect, a difficulty in getting the second wind, when exercise has been suspended for a time, will sometimes be experienced, and care should be taken not to overwork when taking up an exercise that has been for some time discontinued.

When you have had exercise enough, stop and rest. Change of occupation, turning from active mental work to active muscular work, has been said to give rest to the mental faculties. Though they perhaps do, in a sense, experience rest, it might be unwise to assert that this rest is really recuperative. Repeated alternation from active mental exercise to active physical exercise would inevitably result in a state of exhaustion, in which the reserve fund of energy or strength would be completely consumed. It is a more accurate statement that a certain amount of muscular work, which will restore the balance of the system, is a good preparation for rest after active mental exertion.

During mental work of any kind, muscular work must be performed; for breathing, seeing, moving the hands, require muscular movement. The question, therefore, resolves itself into one of degree of work done and equilibrium of forces to be maintained, rather than one of restoration of one set of faculties by the overtaxing of another set. Good muscular work cannot be accomplished without the exercise of brain and will; therefore, when the mind is actively employed, a certain amount of muscular tissue is consumed, though not enough to maintain the system in a state of bodily activity. For body and mind, to be in a state of perfect health or equilibrium, should be equally active.

The tissues of the body are constantly renewed, and the amount of work, mental or muscular, that can be accomplished is determined by these constantly renewing processes. The amount of material taken up and stored for use depends upon the amount of material needed; and this is gauged by the amount of work already done, and restricted by the amount of work the material is capable of performing. The balance of work and rest, quantity and quality, varies with different temperaments.

Training means nothing more than preparation. For those engaged in active mental occupation it is well to consider if they are giving themselves the best preparation for resisting the fatigue consequent upon their occupation. Cycling is a pastime and sport, and may be a relaxation and the alternate of other athletic exercises. After the machine is under control, the muscular work becomes virtually automatic; and for this reason cycling, in its various forms, has proved so beneficial as a relaxation.

Overwork produces the effect of poisoning of the system, and reduces its power of resistance. This poisoning is produced by the waste products of the system, which accumulate during work, as the forces for eliminating them are overtaxed; and before work can be properly resumed, the poison must be eliminated from the system, and the power-producing materials again stored for use.

Stiffness is a form of fatigue due to an accumulation of deposits in the tissues, which are best removed by exercising after a period of rest. With their removal, stiffness disappears, to return with fresh deposits if exercise is again prolonged. The amount of material not taken up by the system lessens with regular exercise, and the tendency to stiffness gradually disappears. The only remedy for stiffness is work, then rest, then work again. Sleep does not always come to the over-tired, and we may therefore conclude that it is better to be rested before attempting to sleep.

A pause, to be recuperative, need not be prolonged; fifteen minutes’ rest after exertion should be sufficient; and during a day’s work, this fifteen minutes’ rest between changes of occupation, not including the quiet necessary for digestion, will keep one fresh. A pause longer than fifteen minutes prepares or readjusts the processes. Do no work, mental or muscular, for at least an hour after a meal; and sleep in a cool—not cold—well-ventilated room.

Low tension power usually accomplishes its object without waste. Work done at high pressure, that might be done at low pressure, indicates waste of effort under strain. The intense concentration of effort when the beginner is struggling with a bicycle is made at high pressure. The excitement of the unexpected probably has something to do with this, as well as the novelty of the situation. If all bicycle work required the same state of tension, however, it could not be long endured; the strain would be too great.

There is a certain amount you can do, or think you can do; this is one measure of your capacity. The work you do is done by stored energy. How may that energy be applied to give the best results? The intricate workings of the mind we may not attempt to analyze: what we do, we do because we wish to, or because we ought, or because we must. Concentrated effort, persistent effort, continuous effort, all consume force. When you dread anything you have undertaken as too difficult of accomplishment, just so much more force is required to overcome that idea. If, mounted on your bicycle, you wheel along in a state of apprehension, you induce a high nervous tension that requires a great reserve of power to resist and supply. Fear, or a sense of insecurity, or a lack of confidence, produces the same result. A bicycle is run by the direct application of power; and power diverted is power wasted.

In wheeling, after the invigorating freshness of the exercise has reached a certain point, the benefit derived lessens with the amount of power drawn from the reserve. Bicycle exercise, moreover, to be really beneficial, should be alternated with other exercise. The bicycle freshens and brings into good condition muscles already developed, but it is an exercise that must be taken with judgment. It is not a panacea for all human ills; it can be generally beneficial, or, immoderately indulged, may become most harmful.

Wheeling for long distances should not be undertaken without proper training. For the sedentary, and for all others tempted by the fascinations of the sport to over-exertion, caution is most necessary. Reaction from over-exertion will bring about a physical condition as detrimental as that caused by lack of exercise—general lassitude and unfitness for work, if nothing more serious.

Persons who are naturally timid cannot accomplish in the same time as much as the more courageous, for their powers are actively at work overcoming their dread of collision and fear of falling; and the distance covered, for power expended, must consequently be less than when no other exertion is required than is needed for propelling the bicycle.

Learn to work without strain or effort; practise where fear is not likely to be aroused, for fear induces a state of tension, and bicycling cannot be enjoyed or prolonged if this drain of the power-supply is allowed. Confidence will come with the knowledge that you are no longer at the mercy of the machine, that it is in your power.

No one make of bicycle is acknowledged the best, and no one is absolutely perfect. The selection of a bicycle, therefore, is a matter of knowledge and nice discrimination, and its use opens a wide field of opportunity before you—touring and cruising, and expeditions of all kinds; travel and sight-seeing; means for study and investigation.

The possible cost of cycling may be quite appalling to consider; but in cycling, as in other things, you may choose between the demands of necessity and the suggestions of luxury. One—almost the chief—fascination of the sport is its simplicity as a mode of travel; the possibility of doing away with all impedimenta. The bicyclist soon learns to dispense with every accessory not positively necessary and to know every possible use of indispensable articles.

The bicycle bestows and restores health; it has its limit, though it does so much that more seems always possible. Take the bicycle as it is, use it intelligently, enjoy it, and become an enthusiast.