It's not about how fast you ride, but how hard.

Cyclists, whether racers, tourists or fanatics can gather the meaning and weight from our namesake. Riding tempo is the riding that lots of us do – right at the cusp of what's difficult, but not so impossible that you can't sustain the speed for the long haul.

That is The Super Tempo.

You can email us at thesupertempo@gmail.com

Naz Hamid

Cycling was something Naz Hamid fell into. After his many years of skateboarding were tempered by the typical teenage pursuit of girls, college and "hanging out," an international move landed him in a new country and his third continent with no physical outlet.

His first roommate sold him a steel Schwinn MTB (a Mesa) and a love affair with steel bikes began. A brief interlude with an aluminum MTB and miles and miles of commuting in Chicago led him to notice that the local messengers were riding sleek, simple machines that got them places fast. And so, a hot and tumultuous relationship with track bikes began. From conversions to off-the-shelf to custom-built to collecting until it all fizzled.

Competitive cycling was knocking on the door and the very bikes he was riding had an origin: velodrome racing. Two seasons at the track saw Naz go into the fall on a cyclocross bike for the first time and he was hooked. A new branch of the sport opened up. Two seasons saw Naz racing cyclocross all over the Midwest trying to best himself personally. Let's admit it, Naz isn't that motivated. There are other aspects of life (and cycling) to enjoy.

Naz has since traded in the flatlands of the Midwest for the temperate climes but hot climbs of the Bay Area where he's based in San Francisco with his wife, a dog and two cats. The riding is good, the riding is hard and that suits him just fine. It doesn't always have to be, fast.

He has somehow kindled a love for the road bike and the terrain on the West Coast has only enhanced his love for long endurance rides. A love for The Super Tempo.

Zach Thomas

Zach Thomas started his cycling career modestly with the purchase of a secondhand Specialized to help get himself into shape and around the hills of Cincinnati. An interest in endurance riding, followed by a deep passion for road racing led him to a decent career as an amateur road and cyclocross racer. He had an auspicious start -- the first race he finished he won. A string of top-tens followed, including a 2nd place in the Ohio State Cyclocross Championship. All these glories were accompanied by a series of horrifying crashes that's led him to swear off most criterium racing.

In subsequent years, Zach's results have slipped from the top-five, to the teens, and eventually to the twenties, or worse. The rider is still strong, but the craving for risk has been mitigated by being witness to too many broken limbs.

This barely bothers him, as he's still quick to pin on a number in a road race provided there are enough steep hills or wind to break the field up into something manageable. Zach's never been the bravest sort -- and bravery is something necessary for success in the criterium racing that the Midwest loves so much. He considers himself a man for the Classics, a rouleur that can put in a hard pace on the flats, but loves to make his move on the climbs. His best successes were always found by a late solo breakaway or gap made on a 15 percent pitch.

Zach's bikes are hardly perfect. Dinged, scraped, dirty, and greasy -- they're tools for the express job of propelling himself headlong into a headwind or carving a descent to a valley floor. And he's a traditionalist, despite the presence of a PowerTap. Campagnolo, 32-hole box rims, wool jerseys in the spring and autumn, and secondhand wool sweaters for when the temperatures fall. A snack on the bike is an almond butter and grape jelly sandwich, not a boutique energy bar.

Zach lives to ride and, in an abstract sense, rides to live.