Monthly Archives: October 2011

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Tour of Pembrokeshire Prologue

A few weeks back, at the Cyclosport party, I met a couple of people who had been mad enough to cycle all the way from Pembrokeshire to London for the occasion.  On a tandem.  Non-stop.  For charity.  Mad, even if it was for a very good cause!  As it turns out, I ended up sitting with them – Peter and Carlos – at lunch, and as it also turns out, they run the Tour of Pembrokeshire.  We chatted about what I do and what they do, as you do.  Come and do our event next year, they said, it’s great!  So I went away, and I looked at it, and actually, even though it’s properly lumpy, what with the great reviews it’s had and the way my schedule is shaping up for next year, it looked quite appealing.  So I emailed them to say yes, I could, why not?  Great they said.  We’re having a Prologue ride in a couple of weeks.  Want to come and do that too?  Well, you know me, any excuse to go and ride the bike somewhere else.  In fact, considering it’s half term, any excuse to go and ride the bike full stop!

Pembrokeshire is quite a long way away I’ll have you know.  3 1/2 hrs drive providing no-one has screwed up the motorway, which, thankfully, they hadn’t.  Once I’d fallen off the end of the motorway and hit the coast, the scenery was already pretty impressive, so things were boding well for the ride itself.  It being so far, I actually went down to St Davids (Britain’s smallest city) on Thursday night, and stayed at the very friendly Alandale Guesthouse.  Not just friendly, cycling friendly too, being owned and run by a fellow obsessive, so my bike got to spend the night safely locked in the garden shed, rather than in my bedroom ;).

Sunset over St Davids

Which brings us to a sunny but early Friday morning, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep.  Maybe that’s because I wasn’t sleeping with my bicycle? 😉  Early alarm, dark outside, strange hotel room, breakfast in lycra…yep, must be a sportive day.  I got me and my kit sorted, and drove us all up the road to the Grove where we were starting from, where various other lycra clad folk were reassembling bikes.  Some seriously impressive kit too – my little Cube and I were feeling a little outclassed as I went in for coffee.

My bike, all ready to go

Eventually it was time to go.  There were to be 3 groups.  Short route (25 miles), Long route (53 miles) split into medium and fast riders.  Well, looking around, and hearing some of the tales of derring do, not to mention knowing that Carlos was leading the first group, I decided that my place was in the medium group.  After Peter’s pre-rider briefing, which meant nothing to me since I had no idea where I was or where I was going, we headed off.  Within a mile, I’d somehow dropped the medium group, and decided to go catch the fast group since at least that way, if I couldn’t keep up, I could drop back later.  Carlos was leading the way, with outrider assistance from an ex-racer called Andy, and the pace was fast but doable.  However we’d yet to hit any big hills so I wasn’t expecting that to last, not for me.   A short while later we hit the first climb of the day, which was pretty indicative of how most of them are – down into them, steep sharp short up out.  Not always that short either.  But mostly you can see the top isn’t far off, so if you have to get out of the saddle, you know it’s not going to be for too long.  Obviously there were exceptions to the rule.  The 25% climb in the middle that wiggled alpine stylee and then went on for more.  The newly resurfaced climb out of the valley which meant that the road, smooth and lovely as it was, wasn’t much use when you hit mud and leaves, end up in the (soft, wet, comfortable) verge, and need to get back on again (I had to walk a few metres until it levelled out sufficiently).  The long climb in the middle (much shallower) that went on and on even though you were already sure you’d hit sky.  But man, the scenery was stunning.  And the views!

The fast group, the sea, and my shadow

Hard to do the views justice

I gather the weather for last year’s event left a little to be desired, and we were totally blessed yesterday.  Sun, mild temperatures, not much wind….what more could you ask for?  Shame you can’t book that when you’re organising an event isn’t it? 😉  But if it’s even half like it was yesterday next year, it’ll be awesome.  In fact even without that it’ll be good – as it’s a real challenge.  There’s not a lot of flat, lots of climbing, and a lot of the descents are very technical, so you’re not talking massive average speeds here.  There was a nice fast stretch in the middle, which kind of allowed me to get myself together again after the earlier climbs.  Apparently it takes me a lot longer to warm up at this time of year, which meant the first few climbs felt pretty horrible.  After the valley I was feeling a whole heap better, even with the detour onto my bum 😉    I was managing to hold my own – getting partially dropped on the climbs but catching up afterwards.  Actually we dropped quite a few people along the way, so the group got gradually smaller, and we ended up with a sort of hardcore bunch with, amazingly enough, another girl in it!  Well, I guess we’re not girls anymore to be honest, I think we’re probably women.  And in Clare’s case, a time trialling personal training woman.  It did make a nice change to have some female company :).

The peloton poses for the camera

Horses, view, fence. Perfect.

At some point we were pointing towards home, the road switched to undulating, and I tucked in behind the big boys at the front and pushed…which meant I got to do my kind of cycling for a while.  Fast and strong and fun.  I think I acquitted myself quite well, and certainly some of the guys seemed impressed to find me still with them.  I am quite strong on a good day, and it was a good day :).  How good I’ll be feeling next year, after the same kind of riding, with bigger hills, for twice as far, remains to be seen…  Mind you if yesterday was anything to go by, I’ll not be allowed to take a turn at the front anyway, so I’ll be able to wheelsuck the entire way ’round ;).  Peter had described the first group as for the race snakes.  For those of you familiar with AC Cobra terminology, some of those riders were indeed snakes.  Which makes me a fake snake.  Not the genuine article but capable of doing a good impression at times *grin*.

Cycling time: 3:56:16 hrs
Distance: 55.6 miles.
Avs: 14.0 mph
ODO: 10704 miles
3735 feet of climbing (1138 metres).

Which brings us back to The Grove, where we started, tired but happy.  The stats are pretty respectable all things considered.  I may be able to climb hills these days but I’m still no mountain goat, so I’m happy with that.  After a quick shower and change at the very welcome leisure centre facilities next door, allowing me to feel practically human again, it was time for lunch and debriefing, with the emphasis being on lunch – and very nice it was too.

Hungry cyclists demolishing food

For the very keen, there was the option to burn off a few more calories, but I think the hills had taken their toll…

More riding? Really?

It was a great ride, and a really good taster of what I’ve let myself in for next year.  As ever there are far worse ways to spend a sunny October morning than cycling around stunning scenery in the sunshine.  Yep – still loving my bike 😀

PS: I’d just like to wish this blog a Happy 3rd Birthday!  It’s been going 3 years now, and in that time I’ve done 13,104 miles.  Get me!  🙂

Possibly Maybe

Somewhere out there is a cyclist who has quite perfectly described how I’m feeling about my cycling at the moment, and it does seem rude to try and better that, especially since I doubt I can.  But it is a beautiful feeling.  (wo)Man and machine working together, in partnership, doing what we were designed to do.  Well, ok, I probably wasn’t designed to be a cyclist, but there’s an odd satisfaction to making your body work properly…heart rate up, sweating, blood pumping through veins, muscles extending and contracting.  To being fit and healthy, to being so much better than I was, to being out there in the bigger, perspective inducing, world.  It’s that zone, and it’s an awesome place to be, and it’s a drug that keeps you coming back to see if it’s still there, still working…

Which today it was.  Today was an ACG ride, with 6 of us in total gathered at 9:00am- a quite respectable turnout even without the two that didn’t quite make it.  Maybe next time?  I had meant to put together a route last night but for various reasons hadn’t managed to, so there were the usual route deliberations with no-one wanting to make a decision, but something having to be decided.  Eventually we decided to do the usual kind of seaside loop, albeit in reverse.  With gorgeous autumnal leaves, sunshine, blue skies and yes, ok, a little more wind that is ideal but hey, you can’t have everything, right?  As it turns out, it’s a good thing we had dilly dallied before setting off, as with the speed we were doing initially, it only took about 45 minutes to get to the New Castle Inn, which opens at 10:00am.  Luckily they were just opening up, and we were able to drink vats of coffee and discuss plans for next year’s events.  I’m not the only one thinking Etape Acte 2 looks awesome – and I could feel a hint of jealousy creeping in….but no, I have plans of my own, and the Maratona will be awesome 🙂

Time to head for home, with an additional wiggle to add miles and take in a hill as at the speed we were doing, we ran the risk of having only been out for 1 and 1/2 hours, and we all know that’s not acceptable!  *grin*.  In this case that meant adding Rowberrow and Shipham to the route which meant a nice long climb up, and what is one of my favourite descents to get down again.  Cue one massive grin :D.

Cycling time: 1:53:27 hrs
Distance: 31.20 miles.
Avs: 16.5 mph
ODO: 10648 miles

It was a Good ride with a Great Group, and we even managed to mostly stay a Group too, which is, if not unprecedented, still fairly impressive.  I got to go fast every now and then, and to not get dropped on hills, and to feel like, for the moment, I’ve still got it :).

After last Saturday’s ride, having apparently acquitted myself respectably, Matt Stephens from Sigma – asked me who I raced for.  Which is, when you think about it, a fairly massive compliment.  Of course I don’t race for anyone.  But it is an interesting thought…  Having said that, I’m perfectly capable of having accidents on the bike all by myself, let alone amidst the in-fighting of a cycle race, and it has been suggested that the chances are that I would get hurt, which is not ideal and would not go down well.  But I can’t help it if there’s a little bit of me wondering if I’d be any good at it, and half thinking I might be…  It’d be nice to be good at something :).

Gotta lot of love in my heart

On a day like today, with the sun shining, the wind on my back, the road and the rhynes stretching away in front of me in converging parallels, blue bouncing between water and sky, and green all around, there is nowhere I would rather be than on my bike.  All was so well with the world :).

I had no plan, I just chose roads I like to ride on, and wiggled myself a loop.  I even rode up some hills because secretly (between you and me) I quite like them too.  The aim was to have a good ride, to enjoy it, and not to push it.  But if pushing it is fun then that’s ok, right? 😉  I like going fast when I can, possibly because it makes up for the times when I can’t.  Even fighting the chilly north westerly wind was fun.  Obviously having it behind me was more fun though *grin*.  It has to be the closest you can get to flying, right?

In deference to it being October, and October finally behaving as it should, my winter cycling kit has started emerging.  On with the winter long socks.  On with the winter long tights which are now rather too big, which is good because they don’t constrict my knee, but bad because they’re baggy elsewhere.  On with the layers, where baggy is less of a problem.  I pretty much got it right, in that I had to stop after a while to take off the jacket arms and a buff, but that was it.  I haven’t really got the hang of winter dressing yet, since I think I’m pretending that winter isn’t happening, but that was a fairly good start.  I really could use a whole new set of winter cycling layers and gear since mine are either old, too big, or both, but, in the absence of a lottery win, that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Cycling time: 2:02:31 hrs
Distance: 33.26 miles.
Avs: 16.2 mph
ODO: 10616 miles

So there you go, that was my ride.  And it was a good one :).  I need to hold on to the memory of such rides in the dark depressing days ahead when riding is far from fun ;).  To help me focus beyond the winter, I’ve started planning next year’s events.  It’s hard because a lot of the dates aren’t out yet, and I have done an awful lot of the events around here, but so far I’m signed up for the Mad March Hare (4th time around), the Tour of Pembrokeshire (having met the lovely guys behind it on Saturday), and next year’s biggie – the Maratona dles Dolomites.  Today they released the 2012 Etape routes – two again – and if I wasn’t already committed I’d be doing Acte 2 and continuing my box ticking trend by adding the Tourmalet to my list.  OK, I could fit it in the schedule, but there’s no way I’d get away with that on top of the Maratona! *grin*.  Etape 2013 I reckon – Ventoux maybe?

Cyclosport Party 2011

There’s a end of season party – I like parties.  Hosted by the sportive website Cyclosport – which I use all the time to plan my events.  It’s in Twickenham – L2P Kevin lives up there, which takes care of somewhere to crash.  What’s more it includes a group ride, food, drink, and Stephen Roche.  As check lists go for an event, you don’t get much better, so this one was ticking all the boxes.  I bought myself one of the limited number of tickets available to the public, and that’s what I spent the day doing yesterday.

It was a totally awesome day.  Again, weather-wise, October came up trumps, with glorious unseasonal sunshine.  100 or so people gathered at the Alexander Pope pub in the chilly sunshine – a mix of cyclists, people from the cycling industry, and celebs such as Stephen Roche & Yanto Barker amongst others.  The plan was to split into 2 main groups for a 39 mile loop into the Surrey countryside, up Box Hill, and back again.  Having overdone it on the white wine the night before I was feeling properly ropey, and wasn’t entirely sure that breakfast was going to stay where I’d put it.  However back when I was drinking, cycling always proved to be the best hangover cure out there, so I figured I’d just MTFU and hope that that was the case this time around too.  Since the 1st group was advertised as being around 26kph, I figured I could probably cope with that, so Kevin and I set off with them at little after 10:30am, in a group of 30 or 40 riders, including Mr Roche et al.

Well I think I should report them to the Trading Standards people for false advertising, since from the get-go the group was off on one, and taking no prisoners!  We’re talking those kph being more like mph.  Having a group that size hurtling along, through Saturday morning traffic, on urban roads, was kinda scarey for me – being a country bumpkin as I am.  Traffic, road furniture, potholes, all obstacles to be negotiated without being able to see them coming!  For most of the way out we were fairly near the front of the group and I had to kick arse to keep up.  Luckily it was mostly flat, and there was a fair bit of stopping and starting, or I would have been totally doomed, as this certainly wasn’t a group that slowed down for anything, including hills.  On a couple of inclines I dropped back a bit, only to be literally pushed from behind, which is the kind of thing that usually drives me nuts…but I swallowed my pride and let them get on with it, since the pace was so fast that getting back on to the group could be tricky.  I ended up at the back for a little while, but was mostly somewhere in the middle, trying to do my best, and sucking wheels as necessary!  In a group of testosterone-fuelled competitive lycra clad MAMILs I turned out to be the only girl, which came as a bit of a surprise as some of the other girls who’d been around at the start looked like they knew what they were doing, and I’d kinda presumed that some of them would have been in this group too, but no.  Ah well, added novelty value etc, right?  I was, yet again, grateful to my Etape jersey for giving me that little mental boost, not to mention bragging rights, and a certain degree of kudos.  In a group of people like this, you know you don’t have to explain what the Etape du Tour is!

I’d like to tell you the scenery was stunning but I was way too busy paying attention to where I was going, keeping up, and what was going on to notice really.  I can tell you the weather remained glorious though – you can’t complain at sun and shorts and short sleeves in the middle of October.  Shame it wasn’t like that last weekend, but such is life.  The goal of the day was Box Hill which, unsurprisingly, I’d heard of.  I was a bit worried about it, fear of the unknown and all that, and there was no way I was going to be keeping up going up.  However there was an agreement to all regroup at the top, which meant I could go up it at my own pace, whilst Kevin kept me company.  And it was fine.  It’s really no big deal at all.  It’s not very steep, Shipham is far worse, and I guess it goes on for a mile or so with the odd switchback, while getting shallower all the while, so you’re not even in bottom gear, you’re getting faster, and then there you are at the top.  Done.  Easy peasy, as these things go, though admittedly probably better done without the hangover.  Definitely not an Alpe though ;).  Having looked at the photos since, I see that the group spread out quite a long way going up rather than arriving at the top en masse, which is nice to know, even though I was assured at the time that they hadn’t been hanging around long anyway.  From there it was basically downhill back to the start.  Well downhill or flat.  Shortly after we headed off again one poor guy had a rear puncture, and then another one (which is why you should check the inside of your tyre and not just replace the inner tube!), which Stephen changed, cool as a cucumber, at impressive speed.  Then we were off again, flying along, all the way back to the pub.  By this time the hangover was a thing of the past, I was no longer having to work so hard to keep up, and it was just awesome.  I chatted to some lovely folk, one of whom turned out to be Matt Stephens from Sigma Sport, which was kinda cool, and shows the kind of company I was keeping.  And keeping up with!  I can say that I’ve been on a ride like that and not been dropped – go me!  What a fantastic way to spend a Saturday morning :).

Cycling time: 2:13 hrs
Distance: 39.77 miles.
Avs: 17.9 mph
ODO: 10582 miles


(Kevin and I nearing the top of Box Hill)

Apparently being a girl and keeping up with Group 1, as it was known, was not unimpressive, and I’m really proud of myself for acquitting myself respectably.  It’s a good thing I’ve gotten faster lately!  After a quick shower and change, since a girl cannot spend all day in sweaty lycra, it was back to the pub to spend the rest of the day eating, drinking, and talking about cycling to cycling people.  A darn fine way to spend a day 🙂 .  I met a whole range of fab and interesting people, and also had a long chat with the main man himself later in the evening.  His achievements are legendary and mine are not, but on one level we, and the majority of the other people there, are the same.  We love being out on our bikes :).

On the networking front, I actually met people who have heard of the cycling mayor – mostly, but not all, courtesy of my Etape Cymru blog last week – which was surreal but very cool.  If you were one of them – hi! *waves*.  I mean I know I write this blog, and I know there are people out there who read it, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually met any of them like that before :).  In the meantime I also carefully avoided the wattbike challenge, since I’ve no idea what my power-weight ratio is, but I’m thinking that after a meal that included Bailey’s cheesecake and a few drinks, I possibly wouldn’t have been on form *grin*.  The day turned into evening, as the numbers thinned out, and the discovery that the pub had Young’s Double Chocolate Stout on draft meant that I was pretty much guaranteed the hangover that I woke up with this morning.  Shame there wasn’t another awesome ride around with which to chase it away :).

I think I need to put the 2012 party down on my event list for next year…Adam and the Cyclosport crew put a lot of work into putting together a great day, and I’m really glad I went :).

 

Etape Cymru 2011

Yesterday GB and I rode the inaugural Etape Cymru. Inaugural is a good word.  It’s a roman word, that implies that had I read the entrails of a recently dead animal, or paid better attention to the flight of birds, I would have been able to predict how it would go.  However, having left my soothsayer hat at home when I left here on Saturday, I, like the other 1600 or so other riders, was a on a Welsh magical mystery tour into the unknown.

The Etape Cymru starts from Wrexham, which is a good three and a half hour drive from here, so GB and I were staying with SK at his folk’s place nearby the night before.  Even had we lived closer, it’s not like we’d have had a lot of choice in the matter because they insisted on everyone signing in on Saturday either in person or by letter of authority given to a more locally located friend.  Normally I pick my sportives based on them being within 2 or so hours to avoid the need for accommodation.  Had this been the case this time around, and I was friendless, I’d have had a 4 hour round trip just to sign in!  Presumably this is supposed to make you stay locally and bring money into the local economy, but I’m afraid nary a penny was spent by us.

So, we turned up, and signed in.  Complete with our £5 refund for the £20 rrp gilet that was now no longer available, but which had been one of the ways that the £65 entry fee had been made to seem less exorbitant.  I spent mine there and then on Zipvit bars, since I’m still trying to find bars that I’m happy with, having eaten Torq bars for years and being increasingly unable to stomach either them or the thought of them (familiarity breeds contempt?).  We signed SK in too, GB having been duly authorised to do so, not that they checked.

Back to the house for carb loading and ranting at the X factor on TV whilst continually trying to figure out what to wear for the event itself.  The forecast was for 18C, heavy rain, and 18mph winds, which I’m sure you’ll agree was less than delightful.  I hate wearing waterproofs, especially if it’s not cold, as I boil in the bag.  However if it’s actually flinging it down at the start of an event it’s not really optional.  Having narrowed options down a little, and stayed up just to watch the weather forecast I got an earlyish night and decided to make my final decisions in the morning.

The day dawned.  Well it didn’t, because I was up before 6:00am and dawn arrives considerably later these days.  The house was cold, and the world was dark, and it was darn difficult to figure the conditions out.  However, sticking my head out of the back door ascertained that it wasn’t cold, that it had clearly rained heavily overnight but wasn’t raining now and the clouds were fairly high and broken, and that it sure as eggs was windy.  Cold I can do – just add layers.  Wet I can do – if I have to – add waterproof.  But wind?  Ick.  Wind means that if you do get wet, you get cold.  Wind means that for at least part of the ride you will be fighting against it, as if the route and the hills weren’t enough.  Wind means noise that saps your will, and ruins conversation.  Yep, not a big fan of the breezy stuff.

We headed off and got to the plentiful free parking with time to spare for further faffing around.  Final sartorial decisions were made, which meant the removal of my legwarmers, and the leaving of the waterproof in the car.  This left me, as if you cared, in shorts, short sleeve Etape jersey, my bolero arms, and my cycling mayor (jacket that converts into) gilet.  Layers, unsurprisingly.  A short ride later got us to the queue for the start.  I tried queueing for the toilets, but 7 into 1600 does not go and there was the risk that the ride would leave without me so I decided to give it a miss.  Mind you, I might just as well have queued since, after some promising signs early on, we didn’t actually get going until around 8:20am, twenty minutes later than billed.  By this point my gilet arms were already in the saddle bag as the day had warmed up considerably.

So.  Off we go.  1600 riders down narrow country lanes, with lousy road surfaces, covered in wet, mud, leaves and the like.  Traffic.  Slow traffic.  And I don’t mean the motorised variety, unless anyone was cheating, as the roads were closed.  The first hour was a drag, which is not a good way to start a long event.  Normally the first hour or so is a fast flying one which gets me off to a good start and motivates me, but not this time.  There was just no way for the riders to spread out and get any speed up or rhythm going, which was infuriating, not to mention slow.  When we hit the first big hill about an hour in, everyone was still together and it was carnage as people hit a wet and leaf strewn hill, failed to get their gears sorted, failed to unclip and dominoed onto the floor in various places.  I narrowly missed joining them at one point but managed to wriggle my way past as they were picking themselves up.  Unlike the couple of guys a little way behind us cursing at them loudly for being in the way and to get out of the way.  Charming.  The poor girl (and it was a girl in this case) has just fallen off and has obviously not yet recovered her sangfroid, and you’re shouting at her?  I hope someone’s as sympathetic to you when your turn comes – and believe me, with an attitude like that, it will come.  I got separated from the lads here, not really by the gradient, but by the traffic and chaos.

Up the very big hill we went.  And there were lots of very big hills, complete with the additional headwind to make things that bit more challenging.  I say bit, I mean lot, because this was not a breeze.  This was proper stop you in your tracks wind.  Particularly pleasant when presented as a crosswind over the moors at the top of those big hills.  The views may well have been stunning, but in between avoiding other riders, sheep, the state of the roads (gravel, potholes etc), trying to look where I was going, and going sideways, I may not have fully appreciated them.  I have to say my Etape jersey helped me up the hills.  I don’t mind big hills.  Once I’ve realised that’s what I’m on, then I can just hunker down and get on with it.  I didn’t walk once, which judging from what we saw, may well put us in the minority.  Even when the hill was horrible, I just thought, as I did on the day, that I’d just keeping making the wheels go round and hey, it wasn’t an Alpe, right?  You can’t be seen in a jersey that says you can go up Alpe d’Huez, walking up a little welsh nonentity of a hill, now can you? *grin*.  Mind you, in some respects the hills were worse – in that they were frequently that bit steeper, and some of them didn’t half go on…  The big billed, and timed, climb of the day was the Horseshoe Pass which, having not researched the event in my usual style, I didn’t even realise I was on until half way along the bottom stretch, slogging along at a snail’s pace into the relentless headwind, chatting to someone who told me that’s where I was.  It was very Galibier-esque.  A long slow exposed slog to the bend, then round the bend and up the second section with the wind now behind you, positively accelerating to the end of the climb and the food stop beyond.

Whilst I’m here, it would seem like a good time to mention the food stops.  They may as well not have been there.  When we reached the first one, after the depressing first 30 or so miles, which included changing a rear tyre puncture for GB, the cupboards were bare.  Right down to there being no water.  The presence of 3 portable loos was its only saving grace, and man were there some irate cyclists around!  The second food stop wasn’t much better, as one poor guy was pouring the last remaining water into bottles, which luckily included mine.  I even found a cupcake thing, and there was the odd banana when we arrived, but not by the time we, and the other cycling locusts, moved on.  Stop 3 was better, and I imagine a whole heap of ringing ahead had gone on, as I got water and half a chocolate zipvit bar to see me on my way.  But really  – poor, very poor.

From early on, I just wasn’t feeling the ride.  The wind was doing my head in, my tummy was dodgy, with extra stomach cramps thrown in (it’s a girl thing).  The route was far hillier than billed, and, courtesy of the traffic, felt far slower than usual.  Before I’d caught up with GB again, shortly before that puncture, I’d started having the kind of low, black thoughts, that I usually get around 60/70 miles into a sportive.  Not good.  It felt like it was going to be one of those days, and very long one at that, and it had already turned into a ride to just get home.  If there had been the option to opt to take a shorter route, I’d cheerfully have taken it.  As GB changed his puncture I was feeling quite wobbly and dizzy, and GB did suggest that if I wanted to bail and head for home he’d be happy to join me.  But I couldn’t bail.  I don’t bail.  Especially when I’ve paid £60!  Things did get a little better, especially when my second dose of painkillers cut in.  You gotta love paracetamol plus, it’s like having a cup of coffee half way ’round 🙂  Inevitably at some point the wind stopped being in our faces all the time and, courtesy of all the climbs, there were some awesome descents and flying along bits.  Those I can do :).  Having said that there were also some lethal narrow gritty dangerous descents spent entirely on the brakes, which seems very unfair when you’ve worked that had to get up there!

Which brings us back to the third food stop, at which we should, ostensibly, have had about another 30 miles or so to do.  However a rumour was circulating that the route had been changed to miss out the last hill (which would have been a repeat, albeit in reverse, anyway) for some reason.  A tantalising thought, and a seriously attractive one, since all I really wanted to do was to get it over and done with, having become bored with the ride quite some time back.  We ended up in a group of four or so trying to find our way home since, as was the case throughout, the signage was rubbish.  It’s all very well relying on marshals to do everything, but there were several junctions where there were neither marshals nor signs, which would account for the number of people that got lost at one point or another.  Finally, after a couple more uphill slogs, the roads were wide and flat, we were a group, and I got to do the kind of cycling I love.  A case of too little too late really though.  The rumour turned out to have been true, as was evidenced by the 10 miles to go sign that we came across, not long before we, and many others, got lost again.  Even the Mavic van who we coincidentally met at the junction was lost.  A friendly local in a 4×4 who pulled up behind what was now quite a group of us pointed us in the right direction, and a few miles down the road we finally made it back to the start with, in my case, a massive sigh of relief.

Cycling time: 6:11:46 hrs
Distance: 88.3 miles.
Avs: 14.2 mph (max 41.7!)
ODO: 10543 miles

We sat on the grass and ate free pasta for a little while, to discover that SK had had an awful day and gone home hours earlier, which made our day look positively pleasant by comparison.  But only by comparison.  So, was it a good event?  Nope.  Not really.  GB and I had hours in the car on the way home to go through it all, and I think we concluded it was possibly a 4/10.  The main reason for doing it was the roads being closed and since there were still occasional cars on it, and more than that later on when they may or may not have been re-opened, you rapidly lost confidence in the roads being clear and could never be entirely sure that as you hurtled around that downhill bend there wouldn’t be a car coming in the opposite direction.  Stunning scenery, when you can see it, does not make up for the scarcity of toilets, the late start, the lousy roads, the cars, the lack of food, the bad signage, and the lack of information.  You have to wonder what your £60 bought you.  Yes, I know it included British Cycling membership, but I didn’t want that anyway!  On the upside there were plenty of lovely Welsh folk out clapping, rattling cowbells, and generally cheering us on, which was nice.  The weather was also a lot better than billed as, other than some drizzle, we did not get rained on, I had the right kit on, and my layers went on and off as necessary, so that was a result.

Looking at the stats, as it turns out, although I may have been making heavy weather of it (yes, still talking about the weather), it turns out that I was actually doing just fine.  Considered there was probably well over 8000 ft of climbing – someone on twitter has it at 9154, GB’s Charlie had 8000+ – my average speed is pretty good, and I’ve done less hilly events slower in the past.  I got to spend my Sunday riding the bike, which is always a good thing.  But I just didn’t enjoy it overall.  So I’ll not be doing it again.  The organisers of the Etape Cymru had better do some damage limitation quick, as there were some very unhappy cyclists out there, and they won’t be spreading the word in a good way…

UPDATE: official provisional time is 6:56:45 – but I’m down as male.  If I hazard a guess at working it out myself, out of the 50 or so women, I was probably around 10th, which ain’t bad.  And 394th of the 977 finishers.  However it would appear there are quite a few inaccuracies in there, so we’re talking ball park at best.

It’s probably me

Just for fun, I’m going to compare myself to a supermodel.  Well it’s not something I get to do very often *grin*.  Linda Evangelista was once misquoted as saying that she wouldn’t get out of bed for less than $10,000 dollars.  In similar fashion, I find it hard to see the point of going for a ride that’s less than two hours long.  However, that said, considering that I was just out for a pre-event spin, there’s no need for those two hours to be hilly or challenging, so I dug out my flattest route possible and headed out a bit after 10:00am.

It was quite tempting not to go to be fair, what with it being grey, windy, and occasionally drizzly.  However I’ve been to the gym a lot of late, which does get a tad boring, and it’s not like the weather is going to get better from here on in, so I made myself.  I layered up, doing my best not to wear anything I might need on Sunday, which I just about managed, barring gloves and socks.  Which reminds me, I should be putting the washing machine on…

Anyway, I think the guys from BBC Weather should go back to Weather school.  Or Meteorological College.  Or wherever it is that such people go to learn how to make consistently unreliable guesses as to what the weather may or may not do.  Temperature, check.  Clouds, check.  Wind from the NW?  Yeah right.  And don’t give me any of that “two out of three ain’t bad” rubbish.  West I’ll give you, and more than there should have been, but definitely no N, and quite possible some S instead.  Considering that I’d planned my route partially around the forecast, I was less than amused.  It did not make cycling down the A38 any more pleasant, I can tell you that for free.  But it’s swings and roundabouts with wind, and when you find yourself doing 25mph down the main Wedmore – Glastonbury road, you know where the wind is! *grin*.

Probably thanks to the wind I was one of those auditory hallucination days – you know, the ones where you’re constantly convinced that there’s a car behind you but 99% of the time when you look behind you there isn’t? Still, better safe than sorry, right? :).  As it turns out, I did more over-taking other cyclists than being over taken by cars.  However, you know those moments when a car comes past you oddly slowly?  There were a couple of those today.  You know that 5 minutes ago they’d marked you down as a cyclist, an annoying slow obstacle to be overtaken, and were planning on hurtling past you.  However as it turns out that you’re doing 20+ miles an hour and actually they’re creeping past looking a tad sheepish *grin*.  Is it just me that finds that amusing?

I don’t know what happened, as I didn’t feel like I was going that fast, what with the wind to fight, and bearing in mind that I should just be spinning my legs.  I had to add the odd bit to the loop as it became clear that two hours was over-estimating it, but no matter what I did, without being daft and adding something gratuitous like cycling up the bypass, I had clearly dragged myself out of bed for less than $10,000 ;).

As I came back up Upper New Road from Cheddar, I came very very close to becoming an ex-cyclist.  An ex-everything actually.  Out of nowhere a small metallic blue car swerved round me so close and so fast…  I reckon he’d not seen me at all and had had to swerve at the last, but luckily not my last, minute.  At something like 50mph on a 30mph road.  30 seconds later there would also have been a car coming in the opposite direction.  A whole lot of luck going on there…  I may have called him a twit.  May have.  It’s odd though because I didn’t bother with being that cross or shaken up.  Well let’s face it, by the time I was aware of it, I was already still alive, and I tend to think that that’s a good thing :).  It does make you think though…

Cycling time: 1:52:11 hrs
Distance: 34.05 miles.
Avs: 18.1 mph
ODO: 10443 miles

Oh dear.  It doesn’t look like I was tapering very well does it?  *grin*.  I can’t explain it.  It was very flat, and the wind was behind me for while but then, as is ever the way with circular routes, it was also in my face for a while.  Maybe I’m just faster now.  As long as there are no hills involved that is, so I’m doomed come Sunday ;).

Back to the supermodel thing.  Since there is a little less of me than there was, I can now see that the end of my right collar bone is definitely knobblier than my left one.  That’ll be what happens when you land on it once (or twice!) too often ;).  Mind you, even if I was as skinny as one of them, I’d need stretching a good 8 inches top to toe! 🙂  There endeth my supermodel dreams *grin*.

You say I only hear what I want to

Today was the first of two planned rides before this weekend’s Etape Cymru.  Since I should, apparently, be tapering and taking it easy, I just did variations on the usual training loop.  It was grey and windy with both drizzle and sunshine to add variety to life.  Fairly autumnal really, especially the state of the roads, but at least it wasn’t too cold.  I felt like I was flying along, and I probably was, but the wind was fairly strong on the way out – my average definitely went up on the way back, and that’s even with Mudgeley Hill thrown in for good measure.  OK, I’ll admit it, I wasn’t taking it all that easy *grin*, but it was feeling easy, if that makes sense.  It’s just that as the year gets older and the weather gets colder, every ride that turns out to be going well feels like one that I should make the most of and enjoy to the fullest, because I know that at some point cold, hard work, and miserable is going to cut in.  Carpe diem and all that latin jazz ;).

Cycling time: 2:04:13 hrs
Distance: 33.93 miles.
Avs: 16.3 mph
ODO: 10410 miles

I bumped into an acquaintance of mine the other day who commented that she hadn’t seen me in ages.  By way of explanation I mentioned that I’d pretty much given up drinking so wasn’t out much these days – reference only to the fact that the main, if not only, place we used to bump into each other was in one or other, if not both, of the local pubs.  I then got a whole stream of commentary on how she isn’t drinking so much these days, has cut back, blah blah blah, *yawn*.  I wish people would realise that my not drinking is not a comment on their drinking, it’s just a choice I’ve made for me.  It means I cycle better, and also that I weigh less, which helps me cycle even better.  Win win win!

Wiggle New Forest 100 Sportive

In case you hadn’t noticed, ie you haven’t been in touch with the outside world at all for days, it may be October, but actually it’s doing a pretty good impression of summer.  Imagine a sportive in October when you don’t have to pack layers, or waterproofs and instead have to apply suntan cream.  When you start your ride wearing the same as you finish it in, ie, as little as possible.  Twilight zone time?  Bizarrely not.

I set off from home at 4:15am having had an early night and, handily, having woken up to go to the toilet 4 minutes before the alarm went off.  This meant I actually felt fairly well rested, and didn’t have that horrible moment where the alarm drags you kicking and screaming into the day.  Result!  I was away by 5:00am as planned, and I’m very pleased I know Cheddar Gorge as well as I do because driving up it in the dark isn’t a lot of fun.  It was an uneventful but not that pleasant a drive until the sun started to rise around 6:30am, and the sky turned the kinds of colours you couldn’t paint if you tried and if you did they would just look trite and clichéd rather than glorious and promising as they actually were.  Good start.  I did my best not to arrive at Brockenhurst College before 7:15am as instructed, but at that time of the morning there ain’t a lot of traffic on the roads, and even having stopped to eat my muesli I was there by 7:00am.  However draconian the instructions may have sounded about when things should be done, I was parked and registered in about 10 minutes, before registration was due to have even opened, and I was by no means the only one.  Since I was ostensibly doing the ride with a group from Twickenham CC there then followed a whole heap of people arriving and faffing in the burgeoning sunshine before we could get underway at around 8:20ish.

OK so even in that sunshine it was a tad chilly to start with, but I figured I’d warm up soon enough, and I wasn’t wrong.  My arms started and finished the event in the same place – my saddle bag!  There was a group of 10 or so of us, most of whom I’d never met before, other than my etape partner Kevin, and I sat in the middle of them for a while.  The first hour or so passed, as we warmed up, admired the scenery, and debated whether or not it would be this flat the whole way round.  I really didn’t want to be seen as the one hitching a ride and the pace wasn’t killing me so I tried to take my turn at the front, but it’s tricky when you don’t really know anyone and haven’t always got a partner to ride with, though I muddled through for a bit.  At some point muddling ceased to work, and for some reason I ended out in front.  Bearing in mind the first food stop was at around 2 hours in, I decided just to keep going.  Well it was flat or rolling, I was flying, it seemed a shame not to.  I also found some lovely groups to hitch on to, which is unusual for me.  However there must be something about the male ego – they don’t mind you sitting on the back, and they may possibly even talk to you, but if you try and take a turn on the front, they seem to disappear backwards in the haze.  Well you can’t tell me I was that much faster than all of them!  Having said that, when I checked at the food stop, I’d done the first section at an average of 19.3mph…

The rest of the group weren’t really that far behind me, so I joined up with them again after the stop.  I was a little more successful at staying with them for a while, although I did end up out in front again, as being a group that stays together that mean they were going slower than I bet most of them usually do.  My legs were feeling great, the scenery was gorgeous, it wasn’t (yet) too hot, and the terrain wasn’t that challenging.  There were a few hills but as far as I was concerned, these mostly just meant I could have lots of fun going downhill! *grin*.

On to the second food stop, which we arrived at together, and left together.  But when we left, and I dropped them again instantly, this time I just decided to put my foot down and keep going.  To go as fast as I could for as long as I could and see what happened.  So I did.  I used groups where I could, pushed up the hills I could, slogged up those I couldn’t, tucked in and flew down them, and generally had a blast.  Around half way up one of the bigger hills somewhat later on Kevin caught me, which I gather had been rather hard work, which is nice to know.  We flew along for a while, including a lovely stretch over the moorish bit where we sucked the wheels of two rather fast gentlemen who weren’t even on our ride but who did make lovely wind breaks.  Then we hit Blissford Hill, which I gather is notorious, and I’d heard a rumour about it from another rider earlier on.  It just goes straight up!  It’s a 1 in 4, or 25%, and it’s good thing you can see the top, or I don’t think I’d have even tried.  But I did.  Got myself out of the saddle, pushed as hard as I could, and I made it!  Killer!  Man did I feel awful for the next couple of minutes though and it was with great relief that I discovered the next food stop was there.  It took me a little while to stop shaking and wobbling, but the intake of fluid helped.  Besides which I didn’t want to stop too long in case I ruined my time, so we were back on the bikes asap, just as a breakaway couple of the original group arrived.

That left us with around 25 miles to do, depending on who’s gadget you believe.  By now it was much hotter, which I don’t cope so well with, and although I was still by no means hanging around I definitely noticed the hills more.  Kevin, aided and abetted by innumerable gels and caffeinated substances, ended up on the front for the last hour or so, and I was happy to let him stay there (like I could have caught him by then!), especially as we were probably going to get in faster that way.  Every now and then I’d look back and we’d have picked up people for a while, but they always seemed to fall off the back again eventually, which was quite satisfying.  The last little bit through whichever town it was was a little tedious as we met up with the New Forest traffic, and it was a relief to finally cross the line.

Cycling time: 5:28:46 hrs
Distance: 98.28 miles.
Avs: 17.8 mph
ODO: 10376 miles

Deity Almighty ,have you seen the speed I did?  Talk about completely gratuitous and totally uncalled for! *grin*.  From a ride point of view it was awesome.  I have never attacked a sportive like that before, and may well never again.  If it had been hillier – there were only 1378 metres of climbing – it would have been a whole different ball game of course, but hey, it wasn’t.  Just for once I got to be the one over-taking everyone, got to ride in groups, got to arrive at the finish line not to discover the village packing up *grin*.  It was a gorgeous route, and there’s not a cat in hell’s chance the weather will ever be like that for it again.  You couldn’t have asked for better.  For cooler maybe, but not better.  The New Forest is scenically gorgeous with, luckily, a lot of shade to make up for the heat, with gorgeous views, long rolling roads…  I was less keen on the sheer amount of roaming animals to be dodged – horses, sheep, donkeys, cows, pigs – and I do literally mean dodge as I nearly got taken out by various horses and particularly one less than sacred cow!

So we crossed the finish line, and found a patch of grass to collapse on.  A while later the breakaway couple came in, with the rest of the group a while behind that.  Finishing a ride is always a bit anti-climactic especially when you’ve pushed it hard enough to be temporarily knackered, so I left the group to be a group, stashed my bike, washed up and put “normal” clothes on, rejoined them for a bit, but wasn’t really feeling it so headed for home.  3 hours spent in various queues of traffic heading home doesn’t do a lot for your joie de vivre I’ll have you know, especially when you’re dehydrated and hungry and there isn’t a petrol station for hours!  When I finally found one a diet coke and my freebie carob bar thing perked me up a bit, but I still wasn’t in the mood for writing this until today.  I’m really hoping I got a gold time, but it’s going to be close, as I think my official time, ie including stops etc, needs to be under 6 hours 4 minutes, so…I have my *fingers crossed* and will probably be hitting refresh on the Wiggle website on a regular basis for the rest of the morning :).

UPDATE: official time from the draft results is 5:49:08.  GOLD!!!  Get in!  Mind you, there are a lot of them, so I think it really just shows the standards weren’t that high, but hey, who cares, I got my first ever GOLD!!! 😀