Category Archives: ACG

And eyes that judge on actions alone

I rode Sunday, and then accidentally had a rather late night. Rather than taking it easy and recovering, as would have been wise. You know how it is, good white wine, rubbish film, blah, blah, oops… 😉

On Monday, even with a bit of a lie-in, I was tired, and due to various life stuff arriving on top of that with its usual immaculate sense of timing, I was not in the greatest of moods. So rather than have the rest day I should have been having, once I’d made it to the evening I resorted to wattbike therapy, with a workout thrown in on top. Which worked a treat in that it wiped me out far enough both mentally and physically that a decent night’s sleep was guaranteed.

An enjoyable but busy day at The Food & Drink Trade Show yesterday, spent mostly on my feet in surprisingly comfortable killer heels, totally wore me out. That, plus some rather lovely free single variety “Somerset Red Streak” Severn Cider, sent me to bed early by my standards. Even so I completely failed to wake up this morning, and by the time I finally made it out of bed I’d had pretty much 12 hours sleep! Blimey!

sand bay sign

So I doubt the sensible thing to do today was what I did. That won’t surprise anyone, right? ;). But the sun was shining, and, well, carpe diem and all that. Instead of listening to my increasingly communicative body, I took it to the seaside on the bike. As you do. To be fair, both of us pretty much enjoyed it. I even went up the odd lump, just because I can’t avoid them forever and because I know I can get up them, so I might as well do the training. I do actually quite like climbing, though no-one ever believes me when I say that now. It would appear I cried wolf one too many times ;). However there’s something oddly therapeutic about slowly plodding up there, and besides how else do you get the views from the top that I love so much?

What can I tell you? The sun shone. I got to listen to waves crashing on the shore. The grockles have yet to take up residence in Weston so no-one was too busy looking at the sea to see me. I went up hills. The headwind became a tailwind on the way home, as planned. It was a good ride. And the good ones help get you through the bad ones :). Here’s hoping this Sunday’s Mad March Hare Sportive is one of the former. Wish me luck, I may well need it!

Cycling time: 1:56
Distance: 28.1 miles
Avg 14.4 mph
ODO: 17197.0 miles

Ride done, I came home, ate, and had a nap. I guess I’m still tired! *grin*.

Those were the days my friend

I spent all day yesterday doing as little as possible to try and make sure I could ride with the ACG today. No wattbike, no walk, nothing but the usual household stuff, and a couple of trips to the tip. Even though the sun was shining and it looked lovely out there, I resisted temptation. I even made myself sit down and spend a couple of hours watching the sunny world go past the window while I read my Kindle instead of getting out there in it.

Just as well I did really. Because yes, I managed to ride with the ACG. Well, I went for a ride with the ACG. I just wasn’t always with them ;). I bet it would have been even worse without a rest day! Predictably the weather, having been lovely yesterday when I couldn’t ride, was wet and properly windy today. But not cold, which was the silver lining to the clouds above.

Guy had put together two routes – both heading out for coffee at The Strawberry Line Café in Yatton, and then diverging on the way back at Wrington to allow some people to do 70+ miles rather than the usual 30 or so. Well the first half went as billed. A posse of 9 or so of us (I never did count), including a newbie who rocked up looking quite clearly as if he knew what he was doing (hi Clive!), went out with an impressive tailwind to Winscombe, Sandford, and then Congresbury before a loop round the flat bits there to our coffee stop.

My ability to fall off the back of the pack was not aided by my chain doing its usual job of falling off going downhill, in Sandford, at which point I nearly lost them all completely and would have if Jon hadn’t waited for me, and we hadn’t just managed to espy the group heading off around the last visible corner once I did get going again… And then there were more things that seemed like hills to me but not to anyone else, and I fell back behind everyone and pootled, and did what I could. But I wasn’t downcast. Hey, I was still riding the bike, right? :).

We bumped into another group of cyclists while wiggling around the flat bits, which turned out to be Helen and her mates. It got quite confusing for a bit remembering who to keep up with and who was going where! Eventually we disentangled after a bit of a catch up, and went our separate ways in the drizzle. Coffee was definitely called for after slogging into what was by now a quite unpleasant headwind, and the café was as lovely as ever, though they probably won’t all that impressed with us totally steaming up one of their rooms! I was proper tempted by the gluten free lemon polenta cake but the way I was going there was no way I’d have worked off the calories – unlike the lads who quite justifiably decimated their stock of chocolate marshmallow brownies! Dad rocked up and joined us for a bit too, which was nice, especially as I’d forgotten to remind him beforehand ;). Mind you, it was very nearly the most expensive coffee stop ever…! 😉

So, how to get home? Well Guy’s long route was never going to be for me – just not quite there yet. But the short route would have been a bit boring, and I hadn’t done a hill and I sort of wanted to just to test the water, not just ride through it, as it were! 😉 There was debate and discussion and the weather conditions and…well, we all ended up heading back the same way. Back through increasingly damp lanes to Wrington, though I had as usual forgotten to restart the Garmin, so it wasn’t quite as direct a route as it looks! I did however realise my error before the hill we’d opted for – Burrington Combe. Well, I was kinda curious to see precisely how badly I would do it. Actually I quite enjoyed it, even in the drizzle, and on my own. Apart from the odd twinge, it went just fine. Slowly as predicted, but then why push? I did my “in the now” thing and just sort of enjoyed the fact that it was all working. Even with the wind pushing me sideways from time to time nearer the top. I was so pleased once I’d made it to the top – look at me, I did a hill! :D. And I wasn’t the slowest either, there were even a couple or riders behind me. Not gloating, honest, more astounded! *grin*. I’m still putting faith in the twinges being post op, I’d rather not start considering the alternative just yet…

From there we slogged our way across from Charterhouse to Tyning’s Farm, benefitting from some unexpected shelter from the trees and hedges there. The very top last exposed bit at the end was…interesting…but then there was the fun of going down Longbottom and then Shipham Hill. That I can still do, and I did, and it was fabulous :D.

Due to my technical ineptitude my stats are a little off, but these will do:

Cycling time: 2:05
Distance: 35.0 miles
Avg 14.6
ODO: 17168.9 miles

I used to be able to keep up. Hopefully one day I’ll be able to do so again :).

Oops I did it again ;)

Well, knock me down with a feather, I appear to have been out riding the bike again! It’s my day off, it’s half term, the mob were variously and happily occupied, and the forecast wasn’t too bad. As is often the case, the weather which was predicted did not match that which actually materialised, but everything else remained true, and I wasn’t going to let a little drizzle put me off. Besides, there are plans afoot for an ACG ride on Sunday and I wanted to see which roads were flooded, or not, in best girl scout “be prepared” fashion, so as to plan a route accordingly.

So I did my usual kind of loop, with the odd extra bit thrown in. It’s been so long since I’ve had the wonderful head space that I only get on the bike, that while I was busy clearing out the mental mothballs I missed the odd turning. So it didn’t quite go to plan, but it didn’t really matter. I still got to where I needed to be, and the roads weren’t flooded, apart from one short patch on Max Mill Lane which wasn’t a problem. They were however covered in crap, and also washed away in places, so had to be negotiated with care. Since I wasn’t in any great rush, and just wanted to be out there, I was happy to ride as circumstances dictated. Hey, always good to have something to blame the average speed on, right? ;).

In brief aside, I’m having a “now” phase. As in being happy in the now. No point crying over the milk spilt yesterday, or inviting tomorrow’s troubles to arrive early. I’m not very good at yoga, or meditation, or any such philosophies really. But if I was going to, it might possibly be the whole mindfulness thing. By focusing on the now, being grateful for what that now is, I seem to be spending more time at the happy and positive end of my spectrum – and that has to be a good thing :).

So in my now I was on my bike, on quiet roads, feeling pretty good, riding fairly well, and damp but not cold. I was outside in a world full of flying things – swans, herons, a kingfisher, and even a wokka-wokka (aka a Chinook) flying low over the Levels, presumably bringing more of the army to submerged Somerset.

And I still wasn’t in pain. It’s hard to explain how an absence of something feels. Even when it wasn’t hurting, I knew where it was. Now it’s not hurting, and it’s not there. Or at least I’m fairly sure it’s not. *fingers crossed*. I can’t explain how I feel better, but I do, and it’s not just the absence thing, it’s more systemic than that. Being ill and in ever-increasing pain and on stronger and stronger meds for so long must have taken a lot out of me. And now I get to get me back? It’s a whole new, strange, world… Ok, ok, sorry, got sidetracked again, enough already, back to the cycling :D.

Cycling time: 1:47
Distance: 28.4 miles
Avg 15.8
ODO: 17104.9 miles

As routes go, it wasn’t long, or hilly, or fast, but it went pretty well really. My times up the hills I did do were not, somewhat amazingly, my slowest ever. My average speed was also up on Sunday, which is encouraging. But in that even after a rest day, yesterday’s wattbike session had to be aborted after 45 minutes when I ran out of energy, it seemed like a good idea to opt for some restorative calorie intake after I’d showered and changed. So there was a happy me because I’d ridden well and a happy three because we had fabulous hot chocolates with the works. Result *grin*.

And now I’m back, from outer space

Well, I’m back, albeit briefly, more of which later. I think it’s safe to say that life has gotten in the way of me keeping this up to date? Sorry, I promise to do better in the future. Well, I’ll try to…promises may be a little premature. But there’s been precious little time for riding, let alone writing about it too!

So I have been riding, just not a lot. There were three “rides” between the last blog and today. The ACG had a coffee run to Glastonbury, Guy and I had a coffee run to Banwell Garden Centre, and George and I had a coffee run to Lye Cross Farm. So, not a whole lot of training, and a whole lot of coffee drinking. This isn’t to say I haven’t been on the wattbike – I have – but I just haven’t been out on the real thing much. I blame many things. Weather, work, divorce, holidays, Christmas, health, and non-performance enhancing drugs – that should pretty much cover it.

Which brings us to today, when the ACG went riding, on a route made by Guy, so it was never going to be a flat one. I was, to be honest, dreading it. I am so off form it’s embarrassing, and I haven’t done a decent ride in ages, so the concept of doing 38 miles with the ACG who never get slower, and kicking it all off by going up Cheddar Gorge? Daunting…

But even though it was grey and dismal and cold and unlikely to improve, I didn’t bail. Neither did 7 others, the usual suspects for the most part. And it could have been worse. I was very gallantly helped along as and when necessary, and I didn’t beat myself up about it because, like it or not, it really hurt. Not the kind of you’re unfit, it’s been a while, Christmas has been unkind, back in the saddle hurt, though there was no doubt some of that. Nope, the real bashing my insides with every pedal stroke kind of pain, because I’m in the middle of having a attack of that anyway, and although the morphine patches and tramadol have been holding it at bay, they can’t be expected to cope with Cat 3 climbs or trying to keep up with the Jones’ as well! So I needed any help I could get, and many thanks to those of you who provided it. I made it, whimpering quietly, up the Gorge, and when I couldn’t keep up the rest of the time, the group waited for me. We had coffee at the Rock Cake café before the flying, freezing but fun, decent into Wells, and the flat but fast trek back home across the very scenically flooded Levels to home.

So was it a good ride? Yes, because I was riding, in good company, I didn’t bail, I did a decent chunk of miles, and properly re-instated the 2 hour rule. No, because it hurt, but hey, after more pills a long bath and a siesta, I felt human again eventually. Well, in so far as I ever pass for such ;).

Cycling time: 2:34
Distance: 37.9 miles
Avg 14.7
ODO: 17047.7 miles

Last year I rode 4295 miles, 824 less than in 2012. I would let that get me down, but quite frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. It’s amazing I managed to do that many really, so actually I’m quite happy with it :D. I’d like to do better this year, but…well, life has changed hasn’t it? I’m not going to be able to do so much riding, so I’m going to try and do that which I do do, better. Quality over quantity, or something. Lots of proper wattbike training and constructive road miles ahead.

But not yet. Your New Year probably began on the 1st January, right? Well mine won’t be starting for a while yet. My next operation is on Wednesday so I have to get through that and however many weeks of recovery whatever they do necessitates. Hey, if I’m lucky, they’ll fix me, and when I’m finally back on the bike, I’ll be all set to get on with 2014 like I’d like to. OK, so I don’t hold out a great deal of hope, but hey, I’m working on the PMA right? 😉 It’s not the only thing I have to get sorted, but one way or the other, by Spring, I should know where I stand going forwards. So that I can go forwards. With the rubber side down, and the wind at my back. *fingers crossed*.

Times are tough, but thanks to my fabulous family and my fantastic friends, I’m making it from one day to the next, and slowly we’re getting there. You’re all awesome – thank you :). I’ll be back shortly…wish me luck!

All the flowers turn to face the sun

Lovely weather today. Gorgeous in fact. See for yourself. Apparently if there are photos it actually happened… 😉 Well of course it did, because I wasn’t on my bike, was I? It would appear I am still in possession of my weather influencing powers. If you’d like a nice day for something, let me know, I can be paid to stay away and my rates are very reasonable. But it’s ok. Having promised myself that I would spend this morning sleeping off a hangover rather than getting up early to ride the bike like yesterday, that’s precisely what I did, so I shouldn’t complain too much. Especially as there was no hangover to speak of, just a lie in! I really do love sleep, and it’s not something I’ve been getting enough of of late. So I slept, and woke, the sun shone, Clevedon Pier was beautiful, and we perambulated along it, and took the sea air, and in a focus on the now vibe, it was a very nice moment to be in. PMA :D.

Yesterday on the other hand was cold, and wet, though not windy. Two out of three ain’t bad? And, as it turns out, it was not as wet as it was supposed to be. Which was something I and the rest of the assembled ACG quite appreciated, as you would. Having gotten so cold on Friday that I didn’t warm up until mid afternoon, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again, so it was winter layers, waterproof, full gloves, hat – the works. Something John is probably still wishing he had done – wearing shorts turns out to have been a serious bad call! Due to the weather, we stuck to a coffee run loop, played variations on the usual theme, and predictably ended up at Sweets. There was a little light hearted testosterone silliness from time to time but it really wasn’t the day for hurtling anywhere, and G stands for Group. Thanks to the winter gloves, you don’t get “out there” photos, just the “in here” ones. The ACG immortalised as ever. With the exception of me – because I have the power!

If you sat at Sweets for long enough, sooner or later every cyclist in Somerset would pass by. George and Simon, having been passed briefly by us out on the road, came and joined us for a while. As we were getting ready to leave, the Tor 2000 lot arrived, complete with my mechanic extraordinaire Andrew, who is in the process of sorting me some winter longs and, far more importantly, some new wheels for the winter bike which is, if you’re me, quite exciting. Tragic I know… We’d have hung around longer, watching John try to get some feeling back into his feet, designing solutions for getting too cold on the bike, and drinking better than usual coffee, but we were all getting cold too, and it was about to start raining again and we couldn’t miss that, now could we?

Cycling time: 1:55 hrs.
Distance: 30.7 miles.
Avs: 16.0 mph.
ODO: 16817.2 miles

I felt proper on form on the way back, which is probably more something to do with the Americano with extra shot followed by gratuitous espresso that I had ingested, rather than any actual improvement but hey, it still felt good. After some of that rain and a nice case of ice-cream head, things warmed up and settled down, and it was practically pleasant out there. There were even hints of zone. OK, so I paid for pushing it later, but t’was ever the case these days. But now is not the time to be getting some form back is it? My timing is always off… Just as well they’re going to cut me open to have a look around again in a month or so then, right? That should duly knock me off program for a few weeks 😉 *grin*. Roll on 2014 – I am SO going to do it better!

Goodbye grey sky, hello blue

You know that feeling when you have well and truly and comprehensively earnt a hangover and then…it never really appears? Welcome to my Saturday morning! Talk about ways to put a girl in a seriously good mood! On top of that the sun was shining, we decided to do the seaside loop which ain’t exactly lumpy, and since of the four us – myself Helen, Paul and Chris, 50% were female(!) there was very little danger of TMT getting in the way. Practically a recipe for a perfect ride.

Which it pretty much was, apart from two visits by the puncture fairy. Helen had never had a puncture out on a ride before..she’s now been doubly blessed! She couldn’t have picked a better time to do it – her and I watched a chivalrous Chris swing into action, with a little help from Paul, and he fixed them both times, very efficiently. Go Chris! 🙂

We had coffee outside the Victorian Café on the seafront at Weston, where we basked in the sun, making all the locals look at us askance, which we ignored. I’m not sure they’re used to people who actually exercise… 😉 We had the usual exchange of witty repartée, and then I remained just as cheerful all the way home, even crawling my way up past the Webbington. Well, ok, so if the lads had been out, we’d have been faster, but actually I did ok, maybe because I didn’t feel like I was constantly pushing it to keep up? I wasn’t feeling too bad, my legs were working a little better than they have done later, and out on the bike in the sun was a very good place to be :).

Cycling time: 2:03 hrs.
Distance: 32.2 miles.
Avs: 15.7 mph.
ODO: 3929.5 miles.

I will meet you later in somebody’s office

I’m getting behind again, and being nagged about it…so…

Last Friday morning I went for a ride with George and Mim, with a comprehensive and well earnt hangover after a night of escapism at the local pub. All things considered, it went pretty well. The after-effects mostly manifested as dehydration, and plenty of Nuun and a coffee stop sorted that out. Mim was on her way from A to work, so only joined us for half the ride, leaving George and I to put the world to rights and no doubt give the staff at the Banwell Garden Centre café some fascinating conversation to eavesdrop on, as it was pretty empty in there ;).

Cycling time: 1:34 hrs.
Distance: 22.9 miles.
Avs: 14.6 mph.
ODO: 3856.3 miles.

15 in the Square

Which brings us to Sunday, and an ACG ride. It had been billed as a forty mile pretty flat loop. Maybe that was what did it, maybe it was the sunshine that no-one was really expecting, but for some reason there was a most unprecedented, not to mention record-breaking, turnout. 15 riders! 15!!! I can’t even remember everyone was there, and there were several newbies to boot. Don’t take it personally, I rarely remember anyone’s name, I have a brain like swiss cheese at the best of times, and this is not the best of times! ;). Anyway that’s a lot of riders and a lot of colourful lycra. And, as was fairly obvious for most of the ride, a whole heap of testosterone. Yes, it was a flat and easy loop, if easy refers to gradient. But don’t anyone going expect that to mean easy when it comes to speed! TMT…

15 of us on the road did not make us massively popular with the metal box brigade. And as we overlapped with the British Heart Foundation Glastonbury ride, there were so many cyclists around Wedmore that many of them were probably wishing they’d stayed in bed. Luckily we beat most of the other cyclists to Sweets for our coffee stop, though I did wish I’d joined the sprint there as being at the back of the queue did mean quite a wait! Being so numerous, we colonised the conservatory space nicely, a bit like having own our clubhouse ;). After a while listening to everyone chat, and having drunk rocket fuel, and eaten cake if you could, we headed for home.

Regardless of the speed, and the fact that I haven’t got a lot to write because I was too busy concentrating on keeping up, it was a lovely ride. Sunny, mild, plenty of good but undemanding company. Can’t blame Guy for the weather, can thank him for the route :). I spent my fair share of time at the front, as well as right at the back and beyond if we ever went up hill. Luckily someone usually waited for me. Which is just as well as with the one decent lump on the way home they left me behind completely on the wiggly country lanes and I nearly got lost…I would have done if Chris hadn’t played broom wagon and swept me in the right direction! Still, fast and flat I can still kinda do, so it’s just as well that was all I was really being asked to do :). Some of the more masochistic of the group extended the route home to go via Cheddar Gorge, but I know my limits! Far easier to head for home, and quit while I wasn’t totally behind 😉

Not much by way of pearls of wisdom today, as you can see. But hey, finally written up :).

Cycling time: 2:21 hrs.
Distance: 41.0 miles.
Avs: 17.4 mph.
ODO: 3897.3 miles.

Cheddar Cyclosportive 2013

On the Saturday I treated the bike to a thorough Muc-Offing. I washed, cleaned, oiled and polished. Good for the bike, very bad for fingernails! But since so many cyclists I know do the Cheddar Cyclosportive, the bike at least had to be looking good. Appearances are everything right? Including deceptive. Since it is so local, Guy and I took advantage of our proximity to it, and went down and registered both us and my Dad at our LBS the night before. We weren’t the only ones, but there wasn’t much of a queue. File in, sign, and get a little goodie bag that contained the bike number, with timer tag attached behind it, and an assortment of edible pre, during, and after things. Well that was easy :).

Another advantage of a truly local event was the less than hideously early start in the morning. An alarm set for 7:00am? Unheard of! Dad arrived, early as ever, for a little pre-ride faffing, and we were in the Square, with a small peloton of others at 8:00am, ready to ride to the start. It was chilly, and the forecast was truly hideous. Rain wasn’t due until around midday, but there had already been an unforecast shower, so my faith in that forecast wasn’t all that strong!

mechanical support

So much for making my bike perfect. As we rode to the square I noticed that the front axle was squeaking like the darn dawn chorus! I knew I should have left all the dirt where it was… The first thing I did on arrival at HQ was head straight for mechanical assistance. Paul reckoned I was doing it on purpose just to test him out for my review! 😉 Nonetheless he squirted something lubricating around it, spun it around a few times, repeated and…after a little while the squeak went away. Phew! I’m thinking that could have been quite annoying after a few miles – if not sooner!

Much relieved, not least because I’d used the toilets while I was over at HQ, I headed back to the start line where a veritable plethora of ACG and affiliated members was growing…after a while we lost count! We were, amongst others, Guy, Gaz, my Dad, Jon, Martyn, Steve, Paul, Chaz…yep, I’ve forgotten the rest now. You get the general idea though. The plan today was to ride as a Group, and domestique Gaz to his first 100 miler. Best laid plans…

Some of our group got split up as the waiting riders were briefed and let go in batches. And some of those that didn’t were never seen again, both in front and behind. We also managed to lose Dad almost instantly, which was unfortunate, and a bit of a shame. Well, the speed I was liable to be riding at, I could quite cheerfully have kept him company! I’ve come to the conclusion that at the moment, I’m better off doing sportives on my own. Last weekend I managed 117 miles on my own without feeling it, today I was constantly aware that I was keeping up, falling back on hills, and generally just not up to the grade of those around me. Hard work in other words!

The first section of the ride, out to Wedmore, Glastonbury and beyond is pretty fast and flat, ignoring the small grind at Cocklake and the lump of Mudgeley, which took a few by surprise. It is in fact, unsurprisingly, pretty Level ;). It’s also quite pretty. Well, prettier when it isn’t windy and grey, but still… The terrain did mean that it took quite a long time for riders to spread out, and it felt quite busy early on. Just as well the roads were fairly empty, as we were frequently more than two abreast! Tut tut 😉 In the meantime I had a nice chat to a gentleman by the name of Rob, the second time in two rides that someone recognised me – which is very gratifying, not to mention sociable :).

Sadly it was too early for the denizens of Glastonbury to be doing much by way of living up to expectations. Not a set of fairy wings in sight! *sulk* After a little time spent negotiating the streets, and enjoying the antics of the small car completely failing to indicate and going all the way around the mini roundabout at the top of the town despite our presence, we were heading back out into country lanes again.

Although these are roads I’m familiar with I don’t get out quite this far that often, and I always forget that it isn’t totally flat. I only had the thought of the High Ham Hill climb in my mind, and considering how I was going up hill I was dreading that. However there were a couple of bumps in between to cope with first, which were as much fun as might have been expected. At least that meant some fun flying downhill from time to time – silver linings and all that. As we flew down from Butleigh towards Somerton a train went past us, and turned out to be the first steam train of the season! It was a little odd, as I commented to Guy only the other day that we hadn’t seen one all year. Anyway, it’s probably something to do with my Dad, but steam trains always make me smile 🙂 Shame I couldn’t get the camera out in time!

After the grind up to Somerton the back lanes were quieter, narrower, and flatter, and there was actually time for a bit of a chat from time to time. I could pretend I was riding slowly to converse rather than because I couldn’t keep up! 😉 T’was a but a brief respite as High Ham was looming… There are other ways up this hill and I only ever do this particular climb on this event – why would I put myself through it voluntarily? It’s steep, hard work, with wet roads and stuttering traffic on it. 17% rumour had it. The rider in front of me had had to stop, and then swerved all over the road trying to get back on and clip in again, which was a bit hairy for a minute. Visions of failing to unclip and hitting the deck flew through my mind…but with a “we’re behind you” shout from us, he managed to get out of the way, and the moment had passed. *phew*! At least I made it up, a fair few were walking.

The first food stop of the day was in the village hall, staffed by three very lovely ladies. Aka George and her minions ;). It was lovely to see a friendly face, and not just hers – the rest of what remained of our peloton were already there waiting for me. They’d like to have been underway sooner, getting chilly ‘n all that, but I needed to take five to top up the bottles, use the facilities, and get myself together first!

But it was only five minutes really, before we were on our way again. Down High Ham Hill the way I usually go up it, with the obligatory photographer waiting on the apex of the sharp right hand bend at the bottom. It’s just possibly I was grinning at the time, rather than gurning for a change ;). A stretch of fast and flat and temporarily on form took us to the bottom of Pedwell Hill, where Steve was kind enough to keep me company chatting all the way up. It’s a more gradual climb and I actually quite like it as these things go. I don’t quite like negotiating the A39 so much though – too busy too major. It’s a relief to be the other side of the dogleg needed to cross it and to see Brent Knoll in the distance – somewhere to aim for.

Shapwick, Catcott, Edington, Chilton Polden…we undulated our way along, in somewhat nicer weather. I quite like the names of the villages along here, up to and including Woolavington, where I got to go downhill again – ‘rah! Just for once the long road to Bason Bridge after that wasn’t too much of a slog, so it’s just possible the wind was behind us. Or maybe I was just sitting on Guy’s wheel so was sheltered ;).

On to one of my least favourite parts of the ride. The traffic in Highbridge, followed by the cyclocross gravel path along the coast to Burnham on Sea which, though scenic, is a shared path. A delightful woman with four children, two on scooters, who had to move slightly, informed us all repeatedly that we didn’t own the path. Impressively everyone seemed to be failing to respond to this in the fashion that it might have warranted…ooh, the restraint ;).

In previous years going through Burnham on Sea has been a bit of a nightmare, but I guess the actual weather and the rain due meant there were less people out and about, and at least when we went through it wasn’t too bad. The main worry here is always that some eejot will open a car door as we go past, so it’s always wise to leave a wide berth!

As predicted, since statistically speaking they’re bound to get it right occasionally, the weather was starting to deteriorate now, a bit like me. By the time we’d wiggled our way to the second food stop at East Brent, the rain was starting for real. Oh and look, we do stop for traffic lights!

Time for the donning of marvellous waterproofs, as well as eating, drinking, etc. I decided that the forecast was proving to be entirely too accurate, everyone else was too fast for me and I wasn’t going to get any faster. Throw in the fact that all the big hills of the 100 mile route are in the last forty miles, and that I had some things at home that I would be better off sorting out and…I decided today was a medium route day. Let those better than I take the laurels. Hey, I did the full route last year, and I can ride up Cheddar Gorge in the rain twice a week between now and March! 😉

That decided, a weight was lifted, and the last section was far more enjoyable for me. Not faster, just more pleasant! Besides which I quite like those roads. Flat, some up and down, but not too much, scenic, and more importantly on the way home. With a castle thrown in for good measure 😉

The biggest hurdle to negotiate were the traffic lights to turn right out of Winscombe and onto the A38. I think the motorway must have been screwed again as the A38 was backed up Northbound, there was a long queue for the lights, and the phase is notoriously slow. It’s virtually impossible to sit in the queue, get up the hill and round to the right before the lights have changed if you’re a cyclist. And the motorists were not pleased to be being beaten to the front by cyclists. There was a lot of engine revving, and stealthy road positioning going on to try and stop it happening, making for a somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere. In fact I, and a couple of others, ended up making our way right to the front ahead of the lights to get away from the prat in an Alfa behind us, just in case he got even more agro!

From there it was just a case of flying down hill, down the bypass, down road to Cheddar, waving a cheerful farewell to the stalwart few carrying on in the rain, and rolling myself over the finish line to HQ.

I handed in my tag, grabbed my voucher, and headed off to find my free coffee. As we queued, the rain started to come down for real, and being wet already, I didn’t regret my decision one bit! I decided to get my coffee, go and hide from the torrential rain under the gazebo, and wait for Dad to come in so that we could at least ride back home together. As it turns out, I may have been feeling crap, but that’s more by comparison to everyone else than myself! I was still a Silver and also third woman overall. Which is why I should stop judging myself by other people’s standards instead of my own! 😉

I’m pleased to report that the remain four musketeers completed the whole route, despite the weather, and Gaz did indeed pop his 100 mile cherry. Chapeaux guys! 😀

Cycling time: 3:47 hrs.
Distance: 62.7 miles.
Avs: 16.5 mph.
ODO: 3803.7 miles.

My body is a cage, but my mind holds the key

Today I rode, with the ACG – GB, Martyn, Dave, Steve, and me. I also discovered that GB is doing the same sportive as me next Sunday. Whilst I certainly do not expect him to ride with me, he is up for giving me a lift there and back which means one less thing to worry about. Here’s one for him ;).

So…back to today. I did not ride like I stole it. I rode it like someone else had stolen it and I’d had to resort to walking instead. I.e.: very, very, slowly. I was, not to put too fine a point on it, rubbish!

I’d like to blame it on my holidays…and I’m sure that two weeks of consuming copious amounts of white wine, no serious exercise, and the wrong kind of food, didn’t help. But I’m afraid it’s just a pain thing. I’m having the worst patch since my birthday ride, and it’s not a bundle of laughs.

The planned long ride to Bruton and back changed, which I really hope wasn’t entirely on my behalf because I feel bad enough about them all having to wait for me all the time as it is. Sorry everyone :(. Flat I was just about managing, but up? No sirree jimbob. There’s something about up which hits the wrong spot perfectly with every stroke. Just breathtaking. I was considering bailing as we headed up Westbury Hill – I just couldn’t see how I could make it up that. But as those thoughts were running through my screaming brain, GB was re-organising, deviating, he turned us right, instead and bailing didn’t quite happen. We went up Old Bristol Hill to get us to to the Rock Cake Café instead, and even though that’s a lesser hill, I still ended up crying my way up it. Talk about a girly wuss! It’s just as well GB really couldn’t cycle slowly enough to keep me company, I’d have embarrassed us both. And then, to add insult to injury, it started to rain. Sometimes you just wonder why you bother! 😉 I won’t bore you with the return journey, since that’s way more than enough already, but it was a little better thanks to the lack of lumpiness.

My stats are quite frankly shameful, and as I failed to turn the gadget on again after coffee they’re not even mitigated by the Horringtons’ descent, so I’m sticking to the basics.

Distance: 37.6 miles.
ODO: 3400.9 miles.

Still, at least I rode, right? 🙂 Every day is different. This was yesterday, today was as above…who knows what tomorrow will bring?

on top of a volcano

We got velocity

Today we rode. We being a small splinter group of the ACG. I don’t really have time to blog, but apparently if Chris had known he wasn’t going to be immortalised on the interweb he wouldn’t have come out to play ;). Well we can’t have that. And I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out so…on your own head(s) be it… *grin*.