I rode my bike outside for the first time in four months after a winter cycling indoors - did riding 2,000 miles in my shed prepare me for outdoor reality?

I tried to cycle outside this winter. Oh lord, how I tried. I’d wake up of a weekend and the morning would be full of hope and promise – a day in the lanes beckoned, a few glorious hours with the great British countryside for company. Then I’d draw back the curtains to reveal post-apocalyptic carnage. Wind howled, rain poured, dark clouds convened as far as the eye could see: all paths pointed to the shed and my smart bike.

Call me a fair-weather cyclist, I don’t care. Since 10 November last year, I have ridden exclusively indoors.

I have done long rides: notably a 12-hour behemoth when I bailed out of a Virtual Eversting attempt at 7,000 metres. I have done short rides: a 3km TT around Zwift’s Glasgow crit circuit springs to mind. But mostly I have done medium-sized indoor rides of around an hour. I have done a lot of these - covering about 2,000 miles - and in doing so I have added quite significantly to my threshold power. Where I went into the shed at the end of October just about to hold 330 watts for a 10-mile time trial, I can now cover this distance with a reading of 400 sparkling watts on the head unit.

But, spring isn’t too far away. So, over the weekend, I opted to kit up and see how I would fare on the open road and whether or not my interior power converted to an exterior setting.

I cracked open the shed door, squinting. It was all a little bit Salem’s Lot – I half expected my neighbour to come running at me with a sharpened stake and a net of garlic. Fortunately the natural light didn’t liquidate me on the spot and I slung a leg over my Canyon Endurace for the first time in four months and rode into the great outdoors. So, how did the two experiences compare? And, had my indoor riding kept me outdoor fit?

First sensations

The first sensation I felt was joy. Cycling indoors and out are two very individual entities - you don’t cycle inside for fun, you do it to get stronger, to get fitter, your eyes always on the silly little wattage reading on the screen. You are never really free - bound to the shackles of a million different metrics which if for some reason don’t meet or surpass expectations can ruin a session. Cycling outside is liberating in many different ways.

Outdoors 1-0 Shed

Jarring experience

The second sensation I felt was a sudden jolt when half of my bicycle disappeared down a pothole the size of Suffolk. I’d been so busy enjoying the bucolic surroundings that I’d completely forgotten the roads in Southeast England look like a herd of pneumatic elephants has stampeded them. You don’t get asphalt irregularities in the shed, you get billiard table smooth blacktop that treats your bicycle and your derriere with the utmost care. The scoring had been evened.

Outdoors 1-1 Shed.

Climbing grace

It was halfway up a relatively tame ascent that the third outdoor riding sensation caught me off guard. I’d spent the last four months spinning up 8% gradients indoors with souplesse and panache - so why then was I clambering my way so unceremoniously up this unassuming little hill? This is Berkshire, Southeast England – the biggest inclines around here are made by moles. Yet here I was in a battle for breath wondering where all my gears had gone. Then it hit me. For the past four months I’ve essentially been about 50% lighter than I am outside. My smart trainer defaults to a 50% setting meaning ascents are much easier indoors on Zwift or indeed on Rouvy and My Whoosh. Whilst, in theory, it takes the same amount of time to summit - effectively spinning a smaller gear than my bike would allow - getting to the top outside requires a much greater effort.

Gravitational pull in a real-world setting cannot be duped – unless you’re on an e-bike with a 53-tooth dinner-plate bringing up the rear. Factors to consider include the effect of changes in gradient, inertia, and the physical effort of balancing the bike and keeping it upright (more one the physiological differences between climbing indoors and outdoors, here).

Due to being lulled into a false sense of climbing prowess, indoor loses a point here. With time though I’m hoping that this baptism of fire will become slightly less scolding, and I’ll be able to use my higher power numbers to more gracefully – and quickly – negotiate the steep stuff.

Outdoors 2- 1 Shed

Traffic interruptions

I’m not sure about you, but when I’m nearing the crest of the climb at my physiological limit the absolutely very last thing I want to hear is the revving of an engine inches behind my rear wheel. It’s a truly hateful sound. It makes nails on a blackboard sound like a violin concerto. I’m fairly certain that in most cases the driver in question is unaware of the acute distress it causes to the rider - that would be nothing short of sociopathic. But it happens on an all too regular basis when riding outside. In fact cars in general happen on an all too regular basis outside. What Zwift's Watopia lacks in fresh air it makes up for by being completely devoid of any form of motorised vehicle. A solid point, therefore, is awarded to the shed.

Outside 2-2 Shed

Average speed fixation

Disparities in average speeds inside and out are wild. And nothing highlighted this more than when I completed my first 15-mile loop in the lanes in four months – as fast as I possibly could – with an average speed the same as a Zone 1 warm-down on Zwift. Yes, 21.5 miles per hour inside barely registers on the heart rate monitor (110bpm average) while outside it drifts into Zone 4 territory (around 171bpm average).

The only way I can explain such huge differences is that indoors you are more or less obliged never to stop pedalling and therefore average speeds will be a reflection of how much power you’re consistently putting through the pedals. My speeds before and after my winter of shed-work were more or less the same - but it’s still cold, the air is still denser than it will be come spring and summer, and I’m still finding my feet outside. Therefore the shed gets a big point for keeping me fast. Battling metronomically against a virtual parcours for so long has definitely reaped a dividend.

Outside 2-3 Shed.

Power up indoors

As well as big differences in average speeds there were also discrepancies in average power, which was much lower outside. Again, this can, I’d hazard, be attributed to the amount of coasting involved in outdoor riding. Normalised power - which takes into account changes in pace - would be a more accurate barometer when comparing rides outside to sustained work inside, because, it records the effect of accelerations which are more frequent outside when negotiating natural features as opposed to following prescribed workouts.

Regardless, I was very much loath - and always have been - to fixate on power when riding outside. Too many glances at the headset – particularly when reaching for high numbers - obscures your real-life surroundings. For me, power metrics are best left in the shed. However, my speed on the road is as fast as it was after a full season of real world riding and racing last year, and, at 48-years-old my power numbers inside suggest I’m the fittest on the bike I’ve ever been. So, the time spent in the shed was worthwhile.

Outside 2- 4 Shed

Pure, unadulterated joy

Having accumulated a two point lead, it looks like the Shed is en route to the spoils. But for all of its positives – the fitness gains, the smooth, traffic-free ‘roads’ and the practicalities – none, not even when combined, can rival the sensations of riding out on the open road.

Riding inside, however, is sometimes necessary, and is a perfect way to complement your rides outside, and for me, when combined with outdoor pursuits like hiking and trail running, is the best way to spend a winter.

Final result: Outside 5 - 4 Shed, on penalties