Monthly Archives: March 2011

Enter Sandman

I was so tired when I got up this morning that I was practically falling asleep driving the car on my way back from the school run. Not a good start. So the thought of a long ride with GW was not filling me with the joys of spring. However I hate to back down from a commitment and this morning was no exception to the rule. Man, I wish I was less responsible! 😉

She arrived on my doorstep, in the drizzle, and a great many layers. Now I was sure that although it was proper windy and unattractive out, it wasn’t that cold. Something to do with the fact that I was perspiring lightly just sorting the washing out. I resisted the temptation to put on more layers to conform, stuffed my gilet arms into the saddle bag just in case, and we headed out.

This long ride being her idea, I left the route in her hands. I’d say capable hands but she does have a habit of getting us lost so… Not today though, or at least not that she gave away. Essentially we went out South (Wedmore, Shapwick, Charlton Mackrell) took in a long stretch of the busy and altogether unpleasant A37 in a Northerly direction, and came back via good coffee at the usual place in Glastonbury. She spared me Wraxall Hill for which I am truly grateful. Slogging up a steep bendy hill as HGVs overtake me is not my idea of fun, and the A37 had supplied quite enough of the close encounter experience already!

We sat outside Heaphy’s without regretting it – proof that it was indeed quite warm out there. See – I told you so. I may even have seen GW sweat en route… 😉 Mr “I’m talking to myself and having a darn good conversation” was sitting outside the cafe too, probably likewise enjoying the sun and surroundings, just to show that Fairyland never changes. At least the quality of the coffee remains the same too 🙂 There were no fairy wings or panpipes though – so that’s something to look forward to later in the year *grin*.

Somehow we managed to suffer from the strong South Westerly wind pretty much the entire time. More of the West less of the South too. We got it either as a side wind or a head wind, and most of the return loop was just a slog. GW bemoaned that her legs were getting tired which was odd because we hadn’t been up any hills [sic]. That would be any hills that she’d noticed that is! I noticed ’em – you know those things that you go up and realise that I’m no longer even trying to get behind you? Yes – those would be the hills. 1460 feet of them. OK OK, not a lot, but plenty, if you see what I mean *grin*.

Cycling time: 3:30:26
Distance: 52.10 miles
Avs: 14.8 mph
ODO: 7695 miles

So with what I call hills and plenty of unceasing wind, I think we did pretty well. OK I did pretty well. GW had a walk in the park. As usual a large portion of the cycling “with” GW was more watching her disappear into the distance but hey, I’m used to that, and on the quiet back roads we got to catch up a bit. I was also allowed to take the lead for most of the run home too, which is good for the ego. It was nice to do some less familiar roads – and the stretch along Reynaud’s Way, although hilly, was very pretty. I may have to head out that way again. On my own. Slowly. 🙂

I was tired before…and am certainly not less so now. However I feel pretty good for it, and it was time for a longer ride. More miles is good. It’s all training right? 🙂

In Da Club

As GB and I stood waiting in the Square for the other members of the ACG to join us, the South African pair hove into few, and my heart sank. Mr and Mrs Very Fast. Very lovely, but very fast. They don’t RSVP so I never know to expect them. Mr SA was wearing red, which as it turns out is red in the red rag to a bull sense.

You see normally today would have been a blindingly good ride for me. My legs were feeling fine, the newly adjusted bike felt good, and for the most part I was flying along at 18/19 mph. However…the peloton, being GB, DM, SD and the SAs were off on one…so I still got left behind! *grin*. (Well, Mr SA anyway, as Mrs SA was under the weather and left us at Mark).

There’s this red competitive haze that descends over the testosterone afflicted when those two come out – heaven forbid we should admit we don’t usually go that fast. Oh no, we have to keep up. Well, I would if I could! *grin*. I had to settle for knowing that I was doing really well by my standards, enjoying the relatively mild weather and the fairly unfamiliar roads, and not grumping too much. Ho hum.

DM made us a lovely route which took us round the Levels and down to Catcott and Ashcott, taking in coffee at Sweets at the way back, from whence Mr SA headed for home to check on his good wife, leaving the rest of us to collapse in a heap and recover over coffee. I’m sure keeping up was good for us but still… The Tor 2000 lot were there when we arrived, and still there when we left….they clearly chatter worse than we do! Not to us though, as clearly we’re not up to their lofty standards 😉

The ride home was a lot of fun. My legs have felt like they had an extra gear all week – they seem to have benefitted from last weekend’s event – and there was some caffeine aided hurtling to be done. Just for the flies in your teeth fun of it *grin*. DM found us a totally uncalled for and very steep little hill on the way home, up which I think I managed to make a fairly good showing. Mind you I noticed as I reached the top that I was doing that hot/cold sweat + lip tingling thing which is not a good sign. Push too hard and…faint? Except luckily I didn’t. Sometimes I’m more afflicted that way than others – my postural hypotension is particularly bad today and I think it was related. Yes, I’m getting old, and clearly falling apart *grin*.

We arrived back in the Square having done a reasonable distance at a very presentable average speed. Honour satisfied 🙂

Cycling time: 2:25:23
Distance: 41.00 miles
Avs: 16.9 mph
ODO: 7643 miles

It was my first ride in a long time without my knee strapped up and I’m pleased to report that once it had warmed up it felt pretty good. The right shoulder is another matter. I really can’t look over it to, for example, check on traffic coming up from behind, without fairly excruciating pain, and that’s even with painkillers. Far from ideal, and a tad dangerous. :/ It’s also hard to tell if the tweaks to the bike have improved things until that’s stopped, although the ride did feel very comfortable, so that’s a good start.

Bed of nails

Mondays are my rest day. So, it being post-event ‘n all, I rested. However I felt way worse on Tuesday when I had no intention of resting but my body gave me no choice in the matter as I spent most of the day doing a very good impression of a member of the walking dead! Maybe next time I’ll bear that in mind… Worse still was that on both Monday and Tuesday nights I didn’t sleep well – restless mind, fidgety legs, high heart rate, which meant that I was even more tired than I should rightly have been.

Yesterday, with a massive sigh of relief, I made it back to the gym. Ok, so my knee hurt instantly on the bike, but actually it settled down once it had loosened up. I did my normal session, including all my physio’s stretching and strengthening bits, and felt good. What’s more I slept properly from the get go too. See, I knew this resting lark was rubbish! 😉

I guess, if it had occurred to me, I could have ridden yesterday, but I don’t think I felt ready to, and I’m getting better at listening to my body. So the glorious sunshine passed me by. Not today though, oh no. Today it was time to get back on the bike and to get back out there. And it was very very luverly. Really just gorgeous. As I told GB which, from his office desk, I’m not sure he truly appreciated 😉

For starters I was about half a stone lighter, as I didn’t have to wear base layers or over-shoes or a winter jacket. I stuck to longs though – I’m not sure the world was quite ready for my legs as yet… But it was so nice to feel lighter, and less encumbered. And all my clothes felt looser too – always good 🙂 Well there may just be a tad less of me than there used to be…

I spent an extremely enjoyable couple of hours cycling in the sunshine, me and my tunes, grinning away happily. Tempting as it was to go up a big hill I decided not to push it too soon as the knee was twingeing from the get go. Mind you once again, once warmed up, it settled down. But it was about enjoying the ride not training, not today. That can wait until next week 🙂

Cycling time: 1:58:38
Distance: 31.21 miles
Avs: 15.7 mph
ODO: 7602 miles

Did you know that, as of today, since I started this blog in October 2008, I have cycled over 10,000 miles? Seems to me that that’s quite a long way 🙂 Even though it is over 30 months – that’s an average of 333 a month. Yep – still loving my figures and stats *grin*.

And in an attempt to move with the times, you can now follow thecyclingmayor on twitter. Just click on the button and Robert is your father’s brother. Go on, you know you want to… 😉

Endura Lionheart

Up until a couple of weeks ago, I was signed up to do the 100km route for this event. Then I looked at the route, and realised it was actually less than that, more like 93 kms, which comes in at around 58 miles. Now, weird as this may sound to “normal” people (normal is over-rated), that really didn’t seem worth getting out of bed and making a fuss for. That’s training ride distance, not sportive challenge distance. So after a little deliberation, and considering that both GB and SH were signed up to the longer ride, I swapped to the 100 mile distance which, you guessed it, was due to be a little less than that, coming in at around 96 miles. Which meant that the Endura Lionheart became the first long ride of my sportive season at rather short notice.

That brings us to this morning, and the usual bright and early start. Up at 5.00am – which in retrospect was a little too early, since having been organised yesterday, I was ready, drinking coffee and killing time for rather too long until GB arrived at 6:30am. Note to self – do better next time!

Longleat is only an hour or so away but due to the route setup everyone was supposed to be in and parked before 8.00am which we were. It’s a lovely venue – plenty of parking, plenty of toilets (though rather too far away from the start), gorgeous scenery, fab little pied-a-terre… It was cloudy and a tad nippy, but with a sunny forecast, thus leading to more than the usual faffing around with regards what to wear. (In case you’re wondering, and the suspense is liable to get to you – I didn’t get it right ;)).

We met SH at the start line and got away sometime after 8:00am – I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention to the clock since, let’s be honest, it’s not what time you start, it’s when you finish! Although it’s not a race, right?! 😉 The first 20 minutes were on the estate and rather hillier than you’d think. Not to mention demonstrating the sheer size of the place. Well, can you ride around your garden for 20 minutes? On top of the shock that going uphill is when you haven’t warmed up, you then exit via the long ascent that is the drive – hubby tells me it make a great hill climb – which was a pretty torturous way to start the day, and also marked the last time I saw SH! No wheelsucking for me then… Several people were walking up the hill as I rode past. Now, I’m sorry and I know it’s a big hill on a not massively hilly route, but if you’re walking already, and you haven’t even got out the gates yet, I think the time may have come to go back to the car…*grin*.

GB and I both agree that this is one of the most scenic sportives we’ve done. The scenery was stunning. Lots of rolling hills, views, gorgeous houses, churches and the like. There seemed to be a good few hills to start with, and then it was more just undulating, until the last 20 miles which contained the two biggest hills of the day – one with only 5 miles to go, no fair! The biggest hill of the day, and it was a doozie, was up to King Alfred’s Tower and I’m afraid I had to stop twice. But I didn’t walk so…it’s just that my legs were doing that wobbly thing that generally means they’re about to give way and the chances of un-clipping in time are slim, so I’d just end up in an undignified, and probably painful, heap on the floor. Best to stop, take a breather, and try, try again. Whilst watching GB make his way to the top uninterrupted. *sigh*.

After that many miles on the bike, details tend to blur. I remember some very lovely down hills. A very colourful pheasant by the side of the road watching me go by. A traction engine. A large and ornate (GB says italianate) church. A weird off the ground grain barn building. Not to mention lots of very attractive and seriously out of my price range property.

The signage was brilliant. The roads were mostly back lanes and very quiet. The brief stretch on the A303 was slightly heart in mouth – remind me never to do that again! The marshals and motorcycle riders were fab. The foodstops were all in village halls, staffed by very friendly people, and very well provisioned by the WI who apparently make very good cakes. (GB will vouch for this, – I stuck to curvy yellow fruit). They were also stocked up with Torq which, being my brand of choice, was great for me. And being village halls, there are toilets! Which means no hiding behind bushes, and also that I could strip off and remove my base layer at the second one. Yes – the sun came out, the temperature rose, and I was just too hot. I do not cycle well when too hot. So I misjudged that one slightly, but not to too serious ill effect, and besides which, who can complain when the sunshine is making everything look gorgeous? It would be churlish…

GB and I were together to start with, and then on and off later on. He’s just faster than me, and I always feel guilty when he gets stuck cycling with me, at the same time as enjoying the company – so there’s a quandary for you. I think we got the balance about right today though. I spent a stretch in the middle on my own without seeing another cyclist for hours, and we suspect that not all that many of the 500 entrants were doing the long route. That was however the same stretch that took me through the Stourhead estate, with gorgeous views of the lake and follies, long shady forest climbs, views for miles…nicely taking care of that part of a ride where I’m a long way from the start yet not near enough the end, and feel like I’m in the doldrums. Not today 🙂

The best bit? After all the pain and struggling near the end, and the “1 mile to go” sign which must have been at least 3 miles out, I rode under the gatehouse and down the main drive towards the house. Flying at nigh on 30mph, down the wide flat road, with the sun shining, lengthening shadows, and Longleat laid out in front of me. A very memorable finish 🙂

GB was there already, though he said he’d not been there long (hm…) and I just managed to catch up with SH as well as GW + mob who were there in support team mode. Time for a well earned, and very good, americano. Yes, I could have had my free hotpot, which GB did, but I wasn’t really in the mood for that. I’m always in the mood for good coffee though! Nice goody bag too – cool medal, new bottle, Lionheart buff, Cycling Active magazine, a Torq one shot, and amusingly, a Lion bar 🙂

Cycling time: 6:39:14 (not including stops)
Distance: 97.32 miles
Avs: 14.6 mph
ODO: 7571 miles

I had been aiming at under 7 hours, and hoping for 6 1/2 so, on balance, I think I did ok. And it was those last couple of killer hills that dragged the average down below the over 15mph it had been up until then. Hardly surprising – so no complaints here.

This was a medically aided ride. My knee was strapped up. I took my pink pills and paracetamol plus (the plus is caffeine – ‘rah!) at 7:00am, and they clearly worked as I could feel them slowly wear off as the hours passed. So I took more at 12:30pm and felt them slowly cut in again, though not all the way, I think because there was just too much for them to be fighting against. (Knee, shoulder, neck…such fun). Still, they enabled me to get round without unbearable discomfort so I’m loving the combo. I also didn’t get a stitch this time around which was good, as I’d been worrying about that. I do worrying very well…

OK, by the end of the ride, I didn’t really want to go up any more hills, but other than that I felt pretty good. I’m thinking my base level fitness is pretty good – doing the mileage isn’t actually a problem – which is really positive. The main problem is the pain from my various bits, which I’m hoping to address soon. Oh, and the additional pain from sitting on a saddle for that long for the first time in ages! A proper pain in the arse 😉

All in all a really good ride 🙂 Two events down, five to go. Endura Lionheart – done! I am cyclist, hear me roar! *grin*

UPDATE: official time is 7:13:54, compared to 7:10:39 for the ever patient GB, and 6:41:26 for the nowhere to be seen SH. I can’t figure out my placing as yet – if ever – because I don’t know who did which distance etc. But I figure my time’s ok. Nowt fab, but good nonetheless.

Use your illusion

The ride that never was. Well, if I didn’t have a sportive on Sunday, then maybe the thought of heading out for two hours cycling in the pouring rain, with a topping of cold wind, would have been a more attractive one. Maybe. Instead GW and I opted for cups of warm tea and a natter on the sofa. I shall compensate by going to the warm dry gym later, so no doubt the weather will now brighten up, the sun will shine, and I shall cuss quietly under my breath as I’m out there doing things other than riding.

In other news I’ve arranged to go and see Andrew to look at my bike set-up next week. The more time I spend on the bike, the more pain I’m in. I’m thinking we need to reverse the changes we made a while ago to make my position more upright again. He also suggests we consider trying to reduce the road noise, make the ride more comfortable. Something to do with different cross something or other wheels. And possibly going up to 25mm tyres. Oh and he mentioned something about handlebars too. Personally I think it’s more down to the posture…but I guess as long as we check out one thing at a time we should be able to figure out what works. Let’s start with changing the position, right? Because that doesn’t cost money, and changing components definitely does…

You see apparently living on painkillers is not the way to go, nor is always strapping up my knee to ride. Actually the knee is, I think, very slowly on the mend. It’s definitely the neck/shoulder thing that’s the big issue at the moment, and I can’t say as I’m looking forward to 100 miles with it as it is. I’m sure I remember the days when long rides didn’t actually hurt…well, they hurt, but not like this, if you know what I mean! 😉 Some of the enjoyment is definitely missing at present, and I’d like that back 🙁

In the meantime, from a Plan B point of view, if anyone would like to buy me a Van Nicholas Chinook, as recently reviewed in Cycling Plus, (it’s *so* pretty), I’m sure that would fix all my problems, and I’d be eternally grateful! *grin*

Let the wind blow through me

That would be cool wouldn’t it? Some sort of two way phase modulator thingy (yes, I’ve been reading science fiction). When the wind is being annoying, you’d flick a switch, align all your molecules, and the wind would just blow through you. And if there was any chance, however unlikely it seems to be these days, that the wind was actually going to be in your favour, or if for some bizarre reason you fancied a session slogging into it, you’d flip the switch back again, and let the wind do its thing.

Because recently there has been far too much wind. I’ve found myself wishing for the ability to tack. Actually, doing a search for the definition of tacking to enlighten the uninitiated, I see there’s a Deep Space Nine episode entitled “Tacking into the Wind“. Which seems appropriate given the science fiction theme. Anyway, back to tacking, which sadly I can’t do on a bike. Neither can I hoist a sail when the wind is behind me. In fact all I can do when it all gets too much is batten down the hatches and head for port. ( I think I may have overworked my nautical metaphor – shame on me 😉 ).

So far I’ve managed two paragraphs on the wind, sailing, and science fiction, without even mentioning today’s ride. Which, as you will have gathered, was a little windier than I would have liked, as I would have liked it not to be windy at all. Especially not when the wind is from the NE, a direction not noted for it’s balmy overtones…

I didn’t have a plan today. I was thinking a couple of hours on the flat, in tapering fashion. But for some reason the little voice in my head had other ideas, which it sprung on me as we went along. It started by suggesting that going up Shipham Hill would be a good idea, as then I would have done a hill and could relax for the rest of the ride. Good idea, no? So I did, in 16:25, my second best time this year. Get in! 😀

From there I made it up as I went along – see here for details – with the flat bits being incidental rather than intentional. I’m particularly impressed by the fact that I had no idea I was going to go up Brent Knoll until I got there. Well why would you, when there’s a perfectly good road round it? I seem to be quite good at springing hills on myself. At least that way I don’t have time to dread them first, and they seem to go quite well that way. OK, so it wasn’t the hilliest ride ever, but it was a darn sight hillier than planned 🙂 (Hillier is a word that is looking sillier and sillier each time I write it).

Cycling time: 2:20:22
Distance: 34.78 miles
Avs: 14.5 mph
ODO: 7473 miles

So the hills went well. Both up and down, which is nice. My knee was strapped up and ok. My shoulders/neck/back were neither, but then I haven’t taken any painkillers for a couple of days precisely to see how those bits are feeling. Painful apparently. Pink pills here I come. And on Sunday’s Endura Lionheart I think I need to make a point of stopping and stretching regularly (sorry GB). There are three feed stops so that should be about right, and should break up the 96 miles nicely. Now all I need is sun and a tail wind, “…such stuff as dreams are made on…”.

Stone cold sober

Today’s entry is brought to you by the number 7 and the letter G. There were 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (8, 9, 10, 11 12..) members of the ACG who came out to play today. In the interests of accuracy, there were 5 paid up members and 2 guests. 2 of “them” – aka mtb’ers. OK, there’s no them and us really, but I thought I’d add a little unnecessary dramatic tension to the mix. As it turns out, both the guests were called Chris. Not Dave (which is our usual default name). Which is good for remembering names, but bad for differentiating in blogland. However since the first Chris, who has been out with us before, has a carefully calculated calorific and carbohydrate based reason for eating a fig roll every 15/20 minutes he shall henceforth be known as Figgy. Now if I ate fig rolls like that, I would bear more than a passing resemblance to a figgy pudding…however he’s a whippet. Sometimes there’s just no justice in this world…

GB has apparently not managed to get a lot of riding in this week, and was in coiled spring mode today. Plus he was on the shiny bike whilst the other one has gone in for repairs. Yes, I know it’s not about the bike, but…surely with a steed like that you feel the urge to live up to what it can do? As well as co-ordinating all your clothes to it of course 😉

Anyway, his proposed route was gratuitously hilly and thus, if you’re me, a tad scarey, but as I’m making myself do hills these days I didn’t complain, though I was worried about it, due to the pain factor this week. However it would appear that I’ve done such a good job of complaining about hills in the past that these days everyone thinks I hate them. (That’ll larn me). And offers me opportunities to avoid them while the greater group tackle them. I know, I know, it’s perverse of me, but I find that irritating. But maybe that’s good as it makes me more determined to prove them wrong and to get up the hills by hook or by crook? I like to think I’m getting better at them. Of course it would help if all those around me weren’t getting better at the same time…but there you go. I’m supposed to be trying not to compare myself with everyone else, do the whole PMA thing, but sometimes it’s hard… It’s not that I hate hills. It’s that I hate not being as good as everyone else up them. There, does that make sense?

Back to the ride. What does the “G” stand for? It stands for Group. And when you’re in the Group it is Great, and Good and sometimes Glorious. But then you hit a Gradient, and it is Ghastly and Grinding and the Gap Grows and you are Grumpy.

G also stands for Gorge, which was the first climb of the day. I was quite pleased with how it went as I didn’t have to get out of the saddle at the steep bit, which feels like progress. I even went back down for a bit to pick up MD who’d had mechanical issues. The peloton waited at the top, which was nice, but I was soon left behind again. Rather than Grumble too much (though the temptation was Great) I tried to focus on having a Thoughtful ride instead. I paid attention to how I was pedalling. I tried to keep my arms a bit looser, less rigid, to absorb more of the road noise. I also made a point of changing position from time to time. All of this is aimed to help the shoulder and knee issues, though I do intend to have a set-up check with Andrew at some point as well, and I think it helped.

We went through Priddy, and down the Wells Road, which was kinda fun. GB did try and challenge me to going down without braking, but let’s face it, that wasn’t going to happen now was it? Still, I did my best, and enjoyed the descent as best I could. I even had time to have a chat with another cyclist from Bristol on the way down as he overtook me. Yes – everyone is faster than me *grin*.

Once in Wells we went out up a Horrington. I say we, I mean me, as the group had vanished in a cloud of smoke, and MD had dropped off behind me somewhere. However once on my own, and with no reference point to compare myself unfavourably with, I settled into a rhythm of my own and pootled my way fairly happily up to where they were waiting, so on balance this was a good thing. Once MD had joined us it turns out that we were practically at our destination – Hartley’s Café, a new one to us. Which turned out to be unexpectedly lovely 🙂 Very friendly, with very good coffee, served in double americano form – my drug of choice! I can definitely see us ending up back there again. It looks like the food was good too, though there’s no way you’re going to catch me eating waffles, bacon, banana and maple syrup, but each to their own…or Figgy’s own in this case. Again – no justice…

We had the usual “which way are we going home” debate, and I still refused to bail on the hills. They’re good for me, right? And why should I always be the killjoy? It would appear that I’ve had such low expectations of my ability for so long, which I have clearly broadcast, that everyone else now agrees with me. Hm. (Again – that’ll larn me). So after some interesting back road meanderings to get down to Chewton Mendip and then along past Litton, we went up a Harptree. Which is a long long long climb. Again, head down, every girl for herself, and see you at the top. Once again the group reunited, this time outside the Castle of Comfort, where I did indeed take comfort – in the knowledge that they hadn’t had to wait too long for me. MD rejoined us for the final time, and we headed for home.

For the last stretch I managed to pretty much keep up with the pack. Which was Gratifying. And when flying along the top at speed, also Grand. We went along towards Burrington and then round via Charterhouse, where the downhill after Tynings Farm was as lovely as ever, and down from Shipham, where it was even better. From there, buoyed up by endorphins, it was easy to put my foot down and push down the bypass to home. Ok, I was the first back in the Square, but let’s face it, that just means nobody else was racing :D.

Cycling time: 2:43:53
Distance: 40.15 miles
Avs: 14.6 mph
ODO: 7439 miles

So, an interesting ride, with Grouchy overtones. I did pretty well, and I’m not knackered now, even after a bath, about which I am Glad. And we’re going to have Gammon for tea. Just as well, as I appear to have forgotten to have lunch…

Cry me a river

This morning I resorted to coffee. Well, the thought of going for a ride with GW will do that to a girl. Anything that might help…but that was all I had. That and porridge. Fuel and rocket fuel 😉

I had to meet GW at her place which is about 20 minutes away these days. Depending on the weather this can be a lovely hurtle down the A38, or a slog. Guess which it was today? Well, if I mention the SW 20 mph gusty wind would that give you a clue?

So I slogged my way down to the new pad, and after a brief tour and faff, we were on our way to Clevedon. As was inevitable, the wind turned out to have a whole heap more W in it that it should have had and it managed to be against us for an large proportion of the time. I hate wind. It’s just so sapping… So loud. It’s a constant fight – especially with strong cross winds – to keep your bike where you want it to be on the road. Just drains the life right out of you…

We went up the A38, around the Webbington, over to Congresbury, managed to get lost around Yatton/Claverham as usual, and ended up going up the main road to the bottom of Brockley Coombe to get to Clevedon by which time I was not a happy bunny. Both shoulders hurt, the wind was annoying, GW was constantly 50ft ahead (probably as well since that way she couldn’t hear me whingeing), I’d had enough, and just wanted to get to where we were going.

It took us 32 miles and over 2 hours to get to Clevedon…which last time I checked was a lot nearer than that. We sat inside No 5 the Beach on the seafront, and drank good coffee, which perked me up a bit and delayed the inevitable for a while… BTW, they have very lovely toilets – one of the criteria in our search for the best local café 😉

We came back as close to as the crow flies as possible. We managed to get the wind behind us occasionally but mostly it stuck to stealthy attacks from the side again. Restful…not! I must have been doing something right since GW spent most of the way home sitting behind me though. After an hour of that my knee started twingeing but luckily we were nearly home. The downhill from Winscombe was a joyous thing…but probably even more wonderful for GW who got to keep going down…as I swung a left down the bypass, grabbed a tail wind, and flew home 🙂

Cycling time: 3:06:49
Distance: 47.08 miles
Avs: 15.0 mph
ODO: 7398 miles

Man that was hard work! But when the wind wasn’t killing me, my legs actually felt pretty strong, and the uphills weren’t bothering me particularly either. Which is all good 🙂

Mad March Hare

0500 hours. “What’s the “O” stand for? Oh my God it’s early“. And it was. Very early. Very dark. But if I let the alarm go off any longer it was going to wake the whole household and nobody would thank me for that so I dragged myself out of bed, into the bathroom, and got started on getting on with getting on. Having been, as ever, painfully organised, all my kit awaited me downstairs so I duly dressed up in my many layers, packed up the bag, sorted a picnic breakfast, filled a flask with coffee, and was sorted and ready when GB collected me at 6.00am.

I have a habit of being irritatingly perky and cheerful and chatty first thing in the morning before sportives. It’s a nerves thing, plus adrenalin, and the whole if I don’t I’ll fall asleep again thing. Probably very irritating if you’re not a morning person. GB is not a morning person. To be fair, I’m not much better after events – a combo of relief, endorphins, and not wanting to fall instantly asleep again. I’m thinking he may well start insisting we arrive at events separately…*grin*.

We arrived on schedule, parked his car in the cowshed, and got sorted. I had trouble getting my helmet on, and whilst pulling it on felt my right shoulder muscle thing go. Great. Instant pain and inability to look over my right shoulder – something which is usually quite essential when cycling. Oddly enough the same thing happened last year, albeit the other shoulder. I popped a pink pill, and hoped for the best… Not the best of starts however, but hey, at least this year I didn’t have earache too!

After minimal queueing to register, and the requisite amount of faffing with kit, toilets, bikes, etc…we got on our way a bit after 8.00am, with GB’s friend Bunny. We were running a sweepstake as to how long Bunny would stick with us… I’ve forgotten why he’s called Bunny. I’ve seen him “bunny hop” over a pothole. Maybe that’s it. (I know what would happen if I tried that…). Maybe it’s because he’s the eternal rabbit – the cyclist in front of you that you try to chase down and fail dismally… Who knows? Either way, we were three. And we stayed that way, even if sometimes in a rather strung out way, for most of the day. I did kinda fall off the back on a regular basis and the guys were kind enough to wait for me from time to time. I was happy to sit back and watch them half-wheel each other…

Apparently according to Bunny, who cycled with us at an event last year and therefore presumably has a basis for comparison, I have a smaller behind than last year. Of course that implies that my behind was immense last year but I think I’ll take the high road and accept the compliment which it kind of is. In case you were wondering he said the same about GB’s posterior. Well I guess Bunny has to think about something when he’s kicking his heels on the rare occasions when he’s brining up the rear. (Rear…see…see what I did there? 😉 ).

I can’t remember much about the route. It’s all very pretty and scenic in a not very distinctive way. What do I remember? Realising that it really was rather cold and that thicker socks might have been a good idea, and that Buffs are still wonderful. Discovering on the first decent downhill that I’d forgotten to flip the front brake back down last time I took the front wheel on and off. Interesting… Lousy road surfaces for the first 20 miles or so. Pretty houses, churches, the other half clearly living well… Grit in my eyes – t’ain’t good to lose binocular vision when cycling in traffic… We did the course anti-clockwise so most of the bends were left one, but the right ones went well which implies that my half-replaced headset has made a difference. My new bottles seem to let in more air with fluid than they should so I had a massive stitch/trapped wind combo which was painful and took a good 3/4 hr to sort itself out. Which luckily it did before the very big hill.

I don’t care who you are or what you say – it was a very big hill. Dover’s Hill I think. And it went on for quite a long way. I am reliably informed it as 15% at the steepest, and it was fairly constant all the way up. But I didn’t walk, and plenty did, which is always nice. One day I’m going to do Alpine hills, and they’re not as steep as that, which is good to know. OK, so they go on a lot lot longer but still…

Once at the top, at the feedstation, glimmers of sunshine started to show through, and the temperature went up a couple of degrees over the rest of the ride. Which was a bit weird route-wise as most of it I’d done last year in reverse – it’s amazing how much you remember. And considering the amount of that kind of useless stuff that is clearly lurking in my brain it’s no wonder I can’t always remember what I had for breakfast… The descent after the hill was FanTabulous. Really good. No t-junction at the end. Wide road, good surface, no sharp bends or cars… Such F U N 🙂

Of course after the hill it felt like you were on your way to the end, whilst forgetting that that end was still quite a while away, so it dragged a bit. My knee went after 3 1/2 hours. My shoulder was still hurting. The drugs weren’t working. The stitch was still lurking. And my cycle computer was playing up so I couldn’t really judge how far I had left to go. My goal for what was supposed to be 68 miles was about 4.30 and I had been feeling like I was kind of on track for that. But without the figures at my fingertips I felt a bit lost.

Company made the time go faster throughout. We chatted. The boys played sprint finishes. We compared figures from similarly non-functioning gadgets. Courtesy of being the one to give people nicknames, it would appear that GB has no nickname. (He has no hill either). He is the man with no name. Or maybe the man behind the mask. I’m very tempted to call him Zorro. Considering that Zorro is one “who defends the people of the land against tyrannical officials and other villains” this would be quite in fitting with the occasional rant that has been known to issue forth… Either that or he is the “Man with No Name“. Which would, by logical procession, make him Clint. Hm.

Anyway, in on of my more abandoned patches, near what was possibly the end, I reached a junction where the sign had moved and there was no-one around and I had no idea where to go… A man with a Garmin turned up and I followed him in what was allegedly the right direction, (it was), and discovered OMG (Our Man with a Garmin called Charlie) at the side of the road with a broken chain. There was no fixing it, and nothing for it but for me to cycle to the end, 3 miles or so on, and get Bunny, who’d already finished, to pick him up. Yes, Zorro notched up his first DNF 🙁 A disappointing end to a fairly enjoyable ride.

Cycling time: 4:43:32 (not including stops)
Distance: c 73 miles
Avs: 15.4 mph
ODO: 7351 miles

The organisation for the event was great – great signs (all bar that moved one), good parking, very friendly folk. The only downside was that the queue for the long awaited (and free) post-ride bacon rolls was long and winding, and was much the same even after we’d cleaned up and packed up, so we gave up and headed for home via the services for sustenance (him) and decent coffee (me). It was, though by then sunny, still too cold for hanging around. Ah well, it’s only a bacon roll, right? And I was a good girl and drank my recovery stuff, so it’s not like I was really hungry anyway

It was the longest ride of the season so far. I know it’s only 23 miles longer than the 50 we did a while back, which is only a matter of an hour and a half or so, so it shouldn’t make a big difference. However as I’ve said before, and due to my habit of repeating myself will no doubt say again, a lot of cycling is mental (or psychological if you want to be fussy, but actually by some people’s standards we’re mental for just doing such things…) and it does make a difference. So it’s only reasonable to be a bit hyped up after and then a lot tired later. And I was tired enough to have to get an early night – I just couldn’t do awake anymore. I’m feeling better today. Well….both shoulders now hurt but the knee doesn’t. Swings and roundabouts…at least today is my rest day, and I’m off to see my physio tomorrow.

First ride of the season – done! And done fairly well 🙂

So on to the reader’s poll. What’s it to be? Zorro, Clint, or OMG?

(You can see a photo of GB and I on the route if you’re interested…)

UPDATE: my official time is 4:57. There were 492 riders. Results are here. Looks like 134 didn’t start, and a 20 or so with no time. Fastest was 3.32, Slowest 7:11. Which makes me like 165 out of 333. About par for the course. Maybe even slightly higher up the rankings than usual 🙂

Through the barricades

GB is still on holiday. I still need to ride. 2 + 2 = 4. Or 1 + 1 = 2 I guess. So we rode. In order to try and beat the very cold NE wind, we decided to repeat Monday’s route but in reverse. Thus we started by going up Shipham Hill, which took about 17:00 if you knock off a bit for faffing around in the Square etc. Well, it was Very cold. And I wasn’t pushing it as it’s supposed to be a tapering week. The first 1/2 hour of any ride is fairly hideous, and it’s not helped by going up hill, but at least I was nearly warm by the time I got to the top.

We took the nasty little steep bit towards Charterhouse, which I still don’t like, and found the wind for real. Oddly enough on the top of the Mendips is quite exposed…who’d a thought it? My descent down Burrington Coombe went quite well but if I was cold to start with I was freezing by the time I got to the bottom! It really was bitterly cold… So coffee at the now open Walled Garden, and a warm scone, went down a treat. Having said that, it was £5 for coffee and a scone, whether or not you have cream and jam (which I didn’t) and that’s just a rip off. Especially when at Brean Down it’s £2.35. £3 for a scone? You can buy an entire cream tea for that in some places! So lovely as it is there, I don’t think I’ll be going there often… Plus it wasn’t very warm inside. Did I mention I don’t like the cold? I was born in the wrong country – I so should have been Mediterranean…

From there we headed for home, retracing Monday’s route, which was going all very well, with the sun coming up, and the temperature rising…until Winscombe where I hit a pothole and punctured the back wheel. GB was ahead, but came back to help which is just as well as neither of my inner tubes worked, and by the time it came to putting the third inner tube in I’d pretty much lost the will to live. Besides which he’s much better at it than I am, though if I’d been on my own I’m sure I’d have managed. Well actually I wouldn’t have as the third inner tube was his, so on my own, I’d have been walking home! Actually come to think of it I could have called my breakdown insurance but knowing my luck they don’t cover you for tyre problems. (Yep, just checked, thought so). So it would indeed have been Shanks’ Pony.

After all that palaver, although it was sunny and warmer by then, I just wanted to go home, even if that did involve going up Winscombe Hill. It did, so I did, which went ok, and just left me to fly downhill home. And left GB outside his front door which must make a nice change for him.

Not a ride that went according to plan. Again. The only good bit was the hills really. Both up and down. Other than that it was slogging against the wind. Again. Ah well…that would explain the average speed then! Plenty of good conversation though, on those occasions when we could actually hear each other speak, and who knew how many minefields there were out there?

Cycling time: 1:53:27
Distance: 24.93 miles
Avs: 13.1 mph
ODO: 7278 miles

Now, where did I put my spare inner tubes?