Millimeter Matters
by Alix Weisfeld, Chicago Tri Club Member 

There were mobs of people at this week’s Chicago Tri Club meeting, which I find mildly intimidating.  And when Emily stands up to make announcements about things like upcoming Ironmans, there are actually a whole lot of people nodding in agreement.  Most of my time is not spent in company like this.  Most of the time, I say I am a triathlete and people don’t understand.  I guess they assume it means sort of “all around athlete” or “athlete in general,” because then they tell me about the sports they have done, even if it is wrestling in elementary school, which I actually heard about from someone last week.  And I am interested, really I am, but my point is that most people in my acquaintance would run and hide under their desk if I brought up Ironmans in conversation.  And cover themselves in file folders for good measure. 

At the meeting, we sat around chewing our dinners and watching Emily get fitted for a bike, and tried to imagine replicating the process that night at home in our living room on our own Cannondale, Trek, Huffy, or Big Wheels.  In my case, I thought about my car.  If the angle made by my knee to hips to shoulder is 75 degrees regularly and 65 when I am turning, am I sitting too close to the steering column?  What if I have to lean over to adjust the stereo? 

As you can see, I really benefit from this kind of detailed instruction.   When Professional Bike Fitter Adam would say things like, “A few millimeters can make a really big difference in that situation,” I would wonder, “How big?”  I mean, by how many millimeters do I have to move my handlebars so I can improve my 13-mile bike time by twenty minutes?  Actually, for twenty minutes, I might even move my seat a few centimeters. 

I don’t want to just knock this very important topic, though, because I am sure it is very important for people who bike faster than 12 mph.  I just don’t happen to be one of them, except when I am going with the wind.  Downhill. 

Last night, I went to a Hubbard Street Dance performance and noticed that in pretty much every dance one of the dancers would do a move that depended on a partner being there to catch her from behind.  Dancing is about as far away from triathlons as you can get and still be on the Sports Spectrum, but it’s got me thinking.  Millimeters make a big difference for those dancers, too.  Maybe once you get to a certain level, the difference between good and great comes down to these very small things.  For the rest of us, though, it isn’t millimeters that make the difference but that 99% perspiration.  Luckily for me, I’ve been doing a lot of sweating lately.  How’s that for a philosophical thought?