Navigating the Love-Hate Relationship with Turbo Training
- Nick M

- Jul 16
- 3 min read
At the start of this week, I received some bad (bike) news. Only three months after getting my new bike, the manufacturer of my wheels, DT Swiss, issued a recall notice. I applaud a large company being proactive and putting consumer duty at the heart of their approach, but boy is that bad timing.

The prospect of wheels crumbling like feta cheese in a blender sending me into a tree on a fast descent isn't great.
I reluctantly have parked the bike away until a replacement wheelset is sorted. Without a road-worthy back-up bike in place, to maintain any semblance of peak cycling season fitness, I've resorted back to an old bittersweet relationship. The turbo trainer.

I first picked up a turbo trainer when I was training for the London-Surrey 100 mile ride in 2015 as a means to get some riding time in around my then busy work and social life. We were living in South West London in a tiny 1.5 bedroom upstairs flat so I was hooked in by the folding design of this smart trainer, and with the advent of gamified cycling in Zwift. We had a super tiny downstairs ramshackle lean-to that was mainly for storage of things you wouldn't mind getting damp or having stolen by a gang of foxes.

The main issue I overlooked was that it was louder than a jumbo jet. Put out anything more than 100W and it could shake the mortar out of brickwork. Not ideal when your downstairs neighbour already hated you for 'walking too heavily'. It gathered dust.
Fast forward to 2020 and moving to Letchworth. We finally had more space, less angry neighbours, and, crucially, a converted garage serving as a garden room - the perfect space for a pain cave. The turbo trainer got reinstated. We were back - and with less mouldy boxes for company. Surely, I'd be spending hours a day getting super fit for the upcoming season?

Well, no. Thing is, I didn't really enjoy indoor training.
Even with a fan trained full blast on my face, I found I got too hot, too quick. The lack of movement at the back felt uncomfortable.
Most of all, it was simply not cycling outdoors. I missed the sights and sounds of outdoor riding. You don't get the thrill of the downhill descents. No matter the entertainment options in front of you, it always felt a grind. Chasing people down, or riding with a group on Zwift wasn't comparable. Following structured training plans also just didn't stack up to alternatives such as going to the gym, or running outside whatever the conditions.

It's therefore no surprise that my Zwift account has been cancelled and resubscribed to at least a dozen times, and my avatar's level is still sub-20; a pretty low level considering the total age of the account. Whilst others are zooming by on their Tron-inspired lite bikes for completing the Everesting challenge, I'm happy to have just unlocked the equivalent of my actual real-life bike.
Despite all of this, I keep coming back. It may not be for long periods but I always come back.
And this is where I see the value and privilege of having such a tool at my disposal. There are plenty of positives.
It is easy to jump on and just get a workout done, fitting it around a busy work schedule, or family responsibilities.
It doesn't care if it is dark outside or snowing.
It offers consistent training. Want to do just a zone 2 ride? It'll keep you there. Want to do intervals? You got it. It's arguably easier training in a structured manner indoors than outdoors (albeit more boring in my opinion, still).
It also offers an opportunity to unwind. Cycling and running outdoors are my happy place and main way to decompress. Whilst doing either indoors doesn't have the same effect, it is a perfect opportunity to have an hour to yourself. Listen to music. Watch a TV series. Or, my latest revelation, play video games. The kind of thing I'd normally feel guilty about doing, I can enjoy knowing it's in aid of fitness.

I can see why a turbo trainer has its place. I'm even sure that newer models and technologies would make indoor riding more enjoyable. And I feel lucky to have one. The choice of being able to do 'something' is always better than 'nothing'.
That said, I'd rather be outdoors.







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