Monthly Archives: October 2012

Why should I cry for you?

I went for a ride with Martyn and Paul today.  On a good day they’re both as bad as each other if not worse, but luckily today they remained fairly restrained in deference to my less than on form state.  We went for a fairly flat ride around the Levels in the extremely dull and grey and boring.  With a blustery headwind that was only briefly of any use.  Sounds delightful doesn’t it?  Martyn says it was dreich, and he wasn’t wrong.

Cycling time: 1:54:47 hrs
Distance: 32.20 miles
Avs: 16.9 mph.
ODO: 985.85 miles

As would appear to be continually the case at the moment, I wasn’t feeling the love.  Which was one of the reasons I wanted to ride – to see how I was feeling on the bike, after Sunday’s less than wonderful and with the Exmoor Beast looming.  I performed, but only adequately.  Depressing really.  See, my insides have been worse than ever for a while, on several levels that I won’t bore you with.  Not only does this add extra pain and discomfort and fatigue to the equation it also means I’ve lost what little appetite I had, and I haven’t been eating anywhere near properly of late.  This is not great from a fuelling point of view.  All in all…not good :(.

To cut a long story short, I have some appointments coming up to look into things, but in the meantime, following advice from various people that I should probably pay attention to, it looks like it’s time to take it easy for a couple of weeks.

So, with heavy heart and sad face, I have decided to do what I’m told.  No Exmoor Beast for me.  No Devil’s Punch Bowl.  But hey, they’re only sportives right?  Priorities and all that?  Hopefully after a couple of weeks I’ll be back, raring to go, and back on what passes for form for me.  I expect I’ll still be out there from time to time, since being totally without my bike would probably be more kill than cure, but it’ll most definitely be just in pottering around mode.  I do feel gutted about the Beast – I’ve been looking forward to it ever since I did the preview ride, and I was looking forward to having a good ride with some good friends.  Really sorry guys :(.

At least the postman knocked, only once, and brought me some goodies to cheer me up.  I’ve complained about my currently sunglasses before – they let too many bits in to traumatise my contact lenses, and more importantly, they’re quite scratched now and some of the lenses are just not usable anymore.  So courtesy of a sale offer and special discount code I got me a pair of BBB Impulse Team Sunglasses.  OK, I chose them mostly because they match the bike, but also because the reviews elsewhere were positive and the lens coverage looked better than what I currently have.  I haven’t been able to prove that yet, but man, they look cool on *grin*.  Feel free to disagree, I shall just ignore you ;).

While I was there, and to qualify for whatever the Probikekit offer at the time was, I finally picked up a pair of winter tyres to put on the old bike and to truly make it into a winter bike.  Right now it has slicker tyres than the Cinelli does!

So it may be a little quiet around here for a while, but at least I have what I need to get back on the bike when I can.

And hey, it won’t be for long, right?

Don’t go going anywhere! 😉

Wired for sound

Plans are flexible things.  For a whole heap of various reasons, including several plans falling apart, I ended up able to join Guy on his long planned long Sunday ride yesterday.  Along with Steve.  Three ACG musketeers.  Or something.  Anyway I’d seen his route beforehand.  I was scared.  Though not scared enough to stay at home apparently.  Mostly because it started with the Glider Hill, which I have never made it up, which set me off fretting about it from the get go.  Not the best frame of mind for actually beating that hill.  So when Guy suggested that having driven up it the other day it was likely to be even more treacherous than usual what with wet and gravel and leaves etc and that there were other options I wasn’t going to disagree.  And when we got there, having picked up Steve on the way, and he agreed with Guy, I have to admit to having been incredibly relieved.  Though the alternative was Westbury Hill which I did on Tuesday and didn’t much enjoy then.  OK, so they were probably just taking pity on me but hey, I don’t care, I know I can get up that one and once again I did…

Up and up and up from what had been semi-presentable early morning weather down in town, to cloud, fog, drizzle, and sod all visibility.  In fact taking the usual photo of the view behind me the flash went off – it was that dark!  As for views, what views?!  Not even anything to make all that hard work worth while!

It did not make the climb any more enjoyable…that’s for sure.  Compare these with the photos taken doing the same climb on Tuesday – talk about a contrast!  Still, I got another awkward eating photo – they’re becoming my forté.  My signature dish.  Etc.  Guy was merely being tolerant…no smiling there.  Guess he’s probably had enough of the omni-present lens by now!

 

The trek across the top of the Mendips was, not to put too fine a point on it, pretty miserable.  Headwind, ‘orrid weather, slog…  I was not enjoying myself.  I was mentally entertaining ideas of leaving the pair of them to it.  Until we got to the long descent down to Chewton Mendip which I love a great deal and which may finally have conjured a brief smile onto my face, and which was enough to keep me going.  The weather didn’t get much better, but once off the hills it was a little clearer.  The roads were unfamiliar to me though, so I wasn’t able to take many photos – too busy wondering where I was going, and trying hard to keep up with those two.  We had a brief break at a conveniently closed road junction which came complete with cute chocolate box cottage – aka photo opportunity and excuse to stop!  I was feeling a bit flat so as I was informed we were still another 10 miles or so from coffee I grabbed a bit to eat too.  Possibly not enough.

There was more riding, there was more climbing.  Quite a lot.  Today there just didn’t seem to be hills in my legs.  Flat.  Downhill.  But not hills.  Was it because I was mentally behind and having to keep up?  Who knows?  I do know that the coffee stop at the Riverside Inn at Saltford came as a welcome relief.  Not only was it scenic, but the coffee was extremely good, and GB’s bacon butty was lovingly presented.  Guy did try talking to me at the bar when we were ordering but apparently I looked a little wired.  He may have had a point.

 

We sat outside for rather longer than we probably should have because by the time we got going again I was shivering.  Even with the sun finally on its way out and the temperature slowly rising it took a while to warm up again.  There was a reason for this road sign – something to do with grumpy old men thinking it ought to have been located rather further away from the busy junction or something, but I may be recalling that incorrectly.  I was after all not the grumpy old man in question, merely the daft bint with the camera ;).

 

The route back was due to be shorter than the outwards leg, and somewhat less lumpy, which helped my PMA a little, if not a lot.  It was also more scenic somehow.  Back through Pensford, and Stanton Drew and the like.  Sunny skies, gorgeous autumn colours, pretty quiet roads.  As in pretty quiet, and quite pretty.  As ever sunshine makes a massive difference :).

 

But I was suffering.  I started to get that feeling.  Every time I stopped and had to unclick and put my weight on my legs and the ground I felt that little bit less in touch with reality and a little more dizzy.  I was clearly running on empty, though I’m not sure why.  In girly wuss fashion I had to take a breather next to that round cute thatched cottage on the junction near there, and I actually took a gel.  Gels are only ever in extremis for me and the last time was on the Maratona, which elegantly demonstrates the depths I was plumbing.  I guess it did the trick, but it did seem to take quite a long time.  Still it never got anywhere near as bad as it could have done so maybe I was expecting too much from it and actually it was working well before I thought it was.  We came back through Chew Magna and across the lake, and I pointed a camera behind me to see what faces Steve could pull ;).  I like the one on the left – because clearly keeping up with me is proper hard work *grin*.

 

One more big climb to go *sigh*.  The Wrangle I think Steve called it.  Straight up from Compton Martin to the top of the Mendips, at a fairly constant and only just tolerable gradient.  It would probably have been quicker to walk…but I didn’t.  Stubborn as ever it would appear.  There are probably snails who have done that climb faster though.  Having finally reached the top where they were waiting, I did however know that there was no way going up any more hills was going to be a good idea.  Not if I wanted to be any use to anyone for the rest of the afternoon.  The initial plan had been to go across and down Burrington Combe and then back up Rowberrow and down Shipham.  All very nice in theory.  On another day.  Today?  No way José.  I was going home.  Across the top, down the Gorge, and home.  No more hills, and as close to as the crow flies as possible.  I don’t know if the lads bailed just to be chivalrous and keep me company or did in fact feel as ready to go home as they said they were, but whichever it was, all three of us headed for home.

Finally my legs woke up.  Kinda.  Well I love that bit of road.  I knew the end was in sight.  I could smell home, and an end to the torment ;).  It was time to let the Cinelli off the leash.  OK, so I shouldn’t anthropomorphize the bike but sometimes it really does feel like that’s what it wants to do.  Besides which I think I  needed to remind myself that sometimes I can actually ride the bike.  That’s what was missing today – I was not feeling capable.  In fact of late I have not been feeling capable.  I don’t know why, but cycling is mental, right?.  Or psychological as Guy said, more correctly.  But how you’re feeling has a massive effect on how you ride, and I haven’t been feeling it.  I think maybe I’m just mental ;).

 

So I had a mad blast across the top of hills, under a bowl of blue sky, without caring whether or not I had company.  Sorry guys!  Hey, you like chasing rabbits right? 😉  They did catch me up at the t-junction at the end, where I was waiting to take their photo, as ever 😉  At least I’m predictable right?  After that I even did pretty well descending the Gorge, though Strava has stopped recording that segment – it was reported for being too dangerous apparently.  Shame, because it was nice to see that I was getting better at it – and I wasn’t going to be trying to beat any times.  Bet some eejots would though, so maybe they had a point.

By the time we got back to the Square I’d still done over 60 miles, and I didn’t miss that extra hill one bit!  I’d also survived, which had been in question a couple of times…  Kinda dreading next week’s Exmoor Beast now though…is it too early to start (gluten free) carb loading? 😉

Cycling time: 4:17:54 hrs
Distance: 60.75 miles
Avs: 14.1 mph.
ODO: 953.65 miles

Later on, post refreshing shower, and in search of brownie points and restorative white wine, we went up the Gorge again so that youngest could show off her work properly.  Not just an owl, but a buzzard, a peregrine falcon, part of an otter, and that goat…all the work of her fair hand apparently.  Aw bless :).

Sign ‘o the times

It’s a long long time, from May to September.  Or in this case, October.  Today, my old chestnut looks like this.  Back in May, it looked like this.

As clear a sign as you can have that the seasons are turning, that the nights are drawing in, and that we are no longer in Kansas.  Kansas being in my mind blessed with blue skies, sunshine and warmth.  I’m probably wrong, I’ve never been there.  Please don’t enlighten me, I’m happy living in ignorance.  There is a yellow brick road though, right?  All ready for some kind of American Paris-Roubaix?  No?  Still, however many times I click my heels together, they spark a little but nothing happens, and I’m still here, in the middle of an English autumn, complete with wet, wind, and quite probably the wrong type of leaves.

On that basis I was not feeling all that motivated for this morning’s solo ride.  The weather was looking variable, changeable, indecisive, and windy.  The forecast wasn’t helping much either.  My planned company bailed on me last night, being obliged to stay home with a sick child instead.  Inconsiderate things children ;).  But I need to ride.  I’m not getting enough riding in, and I still have two sportives to go.  Having bailed on a ride I really wanted to do yesterday due to the sheer number of things I haven’t managed to get done lately and really wanted to get on top of, I didn’t really feel like opting for the gym today was really an option.  I refused to be benched by life again.  And yes, I’ve used the American being benched analogy just so that I can use the photo I took somewhere today.  It’s my blog you know, I can do that.

I didn’t have a route.  I was going to make it up as I went along, depending on the weather, the wind, and my mood.  But at some point last night it occurred to me that it had been a while since I went up Shipham Hill.  And you can’t unring a bell, can you?  Once the thought had been had there was no going back, because that would be bailing.  Wimping out.  Taking the low road.  For some reason Strava doesn’t think I went up there.  Well it does, but it hasn’t matched it to the usual segment, which is annoying cos that’s one of my benchmarkers.  Still, I doubt it was fast.  Did I mention I miss my very bottom gear?  Shipham Hill is under-appreciated around here.  OK, it’s not a Gorge, or a Combe, but it’s pretty consistently hard work, and today was no exception.

So, that was one hill under my belt.  Where to go now?  I’m going to have words with my little inner voice at some point.  Of course that would mean that I was talking to myself, but on the bike I don’t suppose anyone would notice and besides, most people think cyclists are mad anyway, right?  My little voice thought that I should do a loop around Puxton way, and back to Banwell and back over the top somehow.  So far so good.  But very same old same old.  Very been there done that.  And then I remembered there’s another way over the top.  Darn that little voice!  It’s Autumn right?  Or, to be American about it again for narrative purposes, Fall.  Where is the best place to see Fall, allegedly?  Canada right?

Now math (still being American) is not my strong point, but some of you may have managed to put two and two twogether and figure out where this rambling ride was to take me next.  Yep, Canada Combe.  I’ve only ever been up there once I think, and down maybe a handful of times.  Time had clearly dimmed my memory, as all I could recall was my last descent down there with Mim and Steve and I didn’t recall it being that bad.  To start with it isn’t.  I followed a large tractor with straw laden trailer up for while.  The straw bales were brushing against all the low hanging trees, and shedding accordingly…it was like being in my own ticker tape parade!  (haven’t stopped being American yet I see).  He turned off, and the road turned upwards…a wet steep grubby road at that.  Remind me, who thought that was a good idea?  Ah yes, that would be me…

But as is ever the way, however slowly, I inexorably made it to the top, and just look at those views.  Well worth it.  Kinda ;).  It was a bit windy up there though.  In fact it was bit windy everywhere, but I managed to avoid the worst of it, more by good luck than judgement though, I think.  Hiding from the wind by going up hills is usually a George tactic, not mine!

After the slog up there, and the descent down into Bleadon, the little kick over Bleadon Hill barely troubled me.  What was troubling me was that I hadn’t really been out that long.  Sticking to my 2+ hour rule is harder these days.  I have to get back home in time to make myself look presentable and eat something before a 1:00pm work start.  My window of opportunity is therefore small and I’m always very aware that should any eventuality come to pass, I could easily be late, so it’s hard to head further afield.  Well, if it wasn’t going to be a long ride, I decided it could at least be a constructive one.  Quality if not Quantity.

Time for another hill then, and again, one I’ve not been up for a while.  Odd how these things go in phases.  Earlier this season I was going up and down Winscombe Hill like a yo-yo, but for some reason it’s been a while, so it was time to do it again.  It went quite well really.  No records broken but it didn’t feel quite as hard as I was expecting it to, which was a minor triumph.  From there it was time to have fun all the way down the bypass.  All the way to t’other side of town to come back in from the East, just to stretch things out that little bit longer, as you do ;).

Cycling time: 1:50:26 hrs
Distance: 27.27 miles
Avs: 14.8 mph.
ODO: 892.90 miles

Now remind me, who thought a white bike was a good idea?!  I really should stop listening to myself *grin*.

And finally…because it’s the 18th October and I hadn’t forgotten…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!

🙂

 

To Hell We Ride

Just a short blog for today’s ride.
I’ve spent so much time away, so much time riding, that I am massively behind on pretty much everything!

In essence I went for a short hilly ride with Mim.
It was hilly because she wanted it to be.  It was short because it was so windy on top of the Mendips that we got bored of fighting against it or of being knocked sideways by it, so we came back a little earlier than planned.

I was feeling pretty good, though Westbury Hill was as hard as ever, but other than that my legs were feeling fairly strong.

Bella can show you what we did, she’s good like that :).

Cycling time: 1:31:45 hrs
Distance: 22.10 miles
Avs: 14.5 mph.
ODO: 865.63 miles

Blog done :).

Cyclosport Party 2012

My “job” may not pay much, or in fact at all when it comes down to it, but it does come with some perks.  One of which is getting to attend the annual Cyclosport Industry Party.  On Saturday around 200 people from the cycling industry gathered at the Alexander Pope pub in Twickenham (why Twickenham nobody knows…).  After coffee and milling around, around half of those split into groups for a ride to Box Hill and back.

The theory was that there would be four groups, ordered by average speed.  Group 1, 2, 3, 4.  1 and 2 were to do 5o miles, 3 and 4 38.  Now last year I went with the fast group and, even with killer hangover, held my own and enjoyed doing so.  I’d have given it a go again today, especially as the hangover was absent, but I just didn’t feel like doing 50 miles at that pace.  Not and get back in time to stash the bike at the hotel, make myself feel presentable, and get back in time for lunch.  Besides in a group that was going to include Stephen Roche, Yanto Barker, Jonathan Tiernan-Locke etc, there was going to be some seriously competitive testosterone going on.  Not from them, but from the other riders around them trying to look good!  It got worse when so few riders were in Group 2, they ended up being amalgamated into one group – man was I ever pleased to have opted for Group 3!

 

I had a blast of a ride.  It felt way easier than last year, though it still took me quite a long time to warm up.  Last year we were in shorts and short sleeve jerseys – this year it was winter layers and I didn’t regret them either.  What a difference a year makes?  I’m still glad I don’t live in London.  20/30 minutes to get to what passes for countryside?  No thanks.  But in a group, able to hold our ground amongst the urban traffic, visible due to our sheer numbers, it wasn’t too bad.  Sean, one of my fellow ride/writers rode with me which gave us chance to catch up, and unlike the Etape Cymru when he went off ahead, today I managed to keep up.  Well, apart from Box Hill of course.  Let’s be serious, that was never going to happen…*grin*.

 

I know Box Hill is iconic and I’m sure going around and up it nine times would be no fun at all.  But on it’s own it’s really not that difficult.  Not even for me.  Especially not with the immaculate road surface it now has, thanks to the Olympics.  In fact, being steeper at the bottom and then settling down, it’s the kind of hill I actually get faster up.  At least I got to see all the road graffiti I’d heard about, and there was quite a lot of sociable chatting on the way up.  Last year I was probably last to the top.  Not this year :).

 

Mr Sportive Photo was lurking half way up the hill, as might have been predicted and just for once I actually waved at him.  Always nice to see a friendly face :).  See, look, here I am, waving…not drowning ;).

And here we all are at the top.  Sean was already there, in “was that it?” mode.  Yep, that was it.  Sorry :P.  Nothing compared to the Mendips, or the hills around Shropshire, that we are respectively used to.  Still, the views from the top were nice, though you don’t get to see them until you’re on your way down again.

 

From here it was a race for home.  Fun :).  I’d warmed up by now, my legs were in, and I was ready to do my bit to keep up.  There was some very silly descending from time to time, and I even had to tell Sean to get himself out of the way so that I could overtake him at one point *grin*.  Man I love downhills :).  What can I say – now that there’s less of me, I guess there’s less air resistance too!  We also had some very daft sprinting bits when circumstances demanded, especially through Bushy Park, though the arrival of a deer in the middle of the road in front of us nearly stopped play in a very horrible way…  I braked a little too hard and felt my back wheel come up…and then luckily go back down again!  *phew*.  Slightly more sensible sprinting after that ;).  I did my best, and I think I acquitted myself fairly well.  In fact I think the ride was my favourite bit of the day :).

As planned we were back in time for me to have time enough to get me and the bike back to the hotel, frock up so that I felt like a girl, and be back again in time for lunch, which was running late anyway.  I had roast chicken and chips, dear reader.  Not bad, not good, but fairly safe, which was the important thing.  In order to mitigate the amount of drinking likely to be done over what could be a long period of time, I opted for the white wine & soda option.  Damage limitation!

There was a Q&A session after lunch..and I’ll leave it up to you to play identify the famous cyclists and others.  Well I could tell you who they all are, but where would the fun be in that?  I love the way they look like a line-up…talk about similar outfits!

 

  

In there somewhere, in case you haven’t named them all, are Daniel Lloyd, Matt Stephens, Roger Hammond, and Yanto Barker.  Oh, and some Jonathan Tiernan-Locke person.  I will point out that Matt Stephens had very nice shoes.  Yanto Barker was clearly very animated.  And that Magnus Backstedt is wearing a Bike Pure wristband, which is very cool, because clearly that means we have a great deal in common.  Not ;).

Cycling time: 2:10:53 hrs
Distance: 35.58 miles
Avs: 16.3 mph.
ODO: 843.53 miles

Here are my two fellow Cyclosport writers.  Sean – at the top of Box Hill, and James – concentrating very hard on whatever Adam is trying to get out of his interviewees.

 

It may have been a Cyclosport Party but there were so many other people there from different areas and companies that I, and in fact we, didn’t know, that I felt a bit out of place and I’m very glad Sean and James were there!  It felt a little less sociable in some ways than last year.  The celebs didn’t hang around much, places to be, rugby to watch, etc.  There wasn’t any central seating to keep you all sitting together, as the space had been cleared for the Q&A and the Wattbike challenge that I wasn’t brave enough for, so everyone got a bit sort of spread out – like sitting around the dance floor at a school disco.  I did meet a few folk I’d been hoping to catch up with, though I won’t list them all because I’d miss someone and cause offence!  I met some new folk too, and also made a few useful contacts., so it was still good, just in a different way.  There was a hardy group growing and settling in for the night after a while, but my time had come, and besides I needed some food.  Time for Cinderella to make an exit, with both shoes, and via the chippy ;).  Girly lightweight I know *grin*.

Thanks to Adam, Cyclosport and Hot Chillee for inviting me – and for a great ride.  Well, it’s always all about the riding, right? :).

Wherever I may roam

I was supposed to ride yesterday.  However the weather was rubbish, it was just me, and believe it or not, I did actually need to spend some time at the gym.  Well, it’s not all about the legs is it?  OK, it kinda is, but I have a chunk of exercises to do to help my knee, given me by my physio, and they’re not going to work if I don’t do them are they?  One of the reasons it’s flared up again is that I haven’t been doing them enough, while the gym was being refurbished.  So instead of riding, I had a surprisingly good gym session working on my physio exercises, my core, my arms, and the rest…  Go me.  Etc.

In order to stop me bailing this morning, in case I was likewise tempted, last night I went in search of a ride partner via the usual channels, and happened across an available Martyn.  Result.  So it didn’t really matter what the weather looked like when I woke up, because I was going anyway.  Mind you, having upped my leg lunges, as recommended by that physio, from three sets of 12 on each side to three sets of 20 on each side, I woke up and realised I couldn’t actually walk…*grin*.  Still, pedalling is different, the weather was actually only grey not wet, and I wanted to see how riding would feel after the weekend.  No bailing allowed!

So, dear reader, that rather convoluted explanation explains, as it would being an explanation, why at 9:00am this morning I could be found in the Square, sitting on the bench in loitering teenager fashion, taking clearly relevant photos of my surroundings to pass the time.

Martyn arrived spot on time, which apparently is late for him ;).  Having made an all-points FB broadcast, there could have been more of us, but there weren’t.  Just the two of us then.  We debated routes – in that Martyn suggested one, and I said that it sounded like an acceptable idea.  Making decisions isn’t my strong point you see, I’d far rather let someone else decide what we’re doing!  Time to go then…

Our route went something like this.  Well, to be fair, exactly like that.  That’s how Bella rocks it.  Accuracy would be her middle name if she had one.  It was grey, milder than expected, with a bit of a headwind on the way out, and less of a tailwind on the way back, because that is the way of the world.  I swear the traffic is getting busier around here, which is fine when it’s just you, but a tad trickier when it’s not.  It makes for less sociable riding too, so we did our best to use the back roads, muddier and bumpier though they be, because then we could ride and chat, rather than just single file it all the time.  Martyn is so strong that keeping up with him is the best I can do, and I have to own up to not taking my turn at the front half enough.  Sorry!

Before we headed for the hill of the day, it was time for some sartorial adjustment on Martyn’s half.  We pulled over, and he gave a efficient demonstration of how to stash a waterproof.  I’ve mentioned before that these jerseys have good pockets…here’s proof!

 

In the meantime, as we wait for Martyn to get himself all sorted, here’s a sign.  Want to guess where we were going?  Hint:  East, not West.

It’s actually a lovely climb, as these things go.  It goes up in steps – steep, rest, steep, rest, less steep, shallow out…the kind of hill I would design if I was Slartibartfast and fjords weren’t my thing.  Martyn, being a busy business man, taking time out his busy business schedule, couldn’t quite escape the demands of the real world but, unlike the white van that stopped to let us past near Fenny Castle, he stopped to use his mobile phone.  Only to discover that even on the top of the hill, with the largest aerial around just over the top of the hill, he couldn’t get a signal.  That’s karma telling you not to answer the phone when riding and live in the ride.  Or something ;).

Having slogged our way up a Horrington, with Martyn waiting for me from time to time, it was time to head straight from home across the Mendips.  It’s surprisingly rolling up there but still pretty nice riding.  After a while you run out of up and it’s downhill, well practically, all the way to the Gorge.  I was having a great day descending, really enjoying it, almost as much as the Cinelli was, until Gorge maintenance stopped play.  Spoilsport!  I did in fact joke that he was a spoilsport, but this took a while to sink in…  And then it did and he apologised for having killed my joy.  In case that doesn’t give it away, English was not his native language methinks.  But he was quite smiley, so I took his photo.  And a photo of the rocks.  Well, it passed the time…

 

On our way again, once the rocks had been thrown down and cleared, we were on our way again, with a brief stop at the temporarily tarted up Cox’s Mill.  The powers that be have worked with a local artist and the local first school to produce a muriel along the side of it by the road to make it look better.  And yes I know it’s a MURAL but youngest can’t stop calling it a MURIEL and now neither can I! *grin*

Youngest is, as you may have guessed by now, part of the school team involved, and somewhere in that muriel, made out of wood and affixed to the surface, is a buzzard, a peregrine falcon, two goats (adult and baby), a part of an otter, and this owl – all painted by her fair hand.

I need to go back and pay more attention at some point – but here’s her owl – the only one I recognised since it had a trip home to be worked on at some point :).  Cute no?  Time to head for home though, with a brief stop to get the most amazingly painful bit out of my eye before the bypass sprint.  Gotta love contact lenses.  Which reminds me, due to them not keeping bits/air out and also being scratched, I need to replace my sunglasses.  Maybe I’ll put that on my Christmas list – a multi-lens pair of cycling glasses.  Feel free to recommend me a good pair?

Cycling time: 2:06:02 hrs
Distance: 33.91 miles
Avs: 16.1 mph.
ODO: 807.95 miles

Like I said, time to go home, so home we went.  It was a good ride, but I did find it hard work.  I don’t know if that’s me, or that’s me trying to keep up with Martyn, and thus mentally finding it harder.  Sunday’s ride was also hard, but that was after a sportive, so not really a good basis for comparison.  Whatever the reason, as I have the Cyclosport industry party on Saturday which includes a ride that might be fast and which I’d like to try and be on form for, I’ve decided that that was the last ride of the week.  Gym tomorrow, rest day on Friday.  Which is good because it gives me extra time to get the bike clean, and man, is it ever dirty!

You can count on me

Ok, so sanity is possibly not one of my strong points.  But it’s not like I was going for a ride right?  I was just going for coffee, and the bike just happened to be my mode of transport, right?  Well, Martyn wanted to go out this Sunday, and I had said I probably would if it was just to Glastonbury for coffee and back, and I was worried that no-one else would turn up, and I hate to let people down and…

…there I was, in the Square, at 9:00am, wondering at the wisdom of my actions.  Quite impressively I’d managed to get my winter kit through the wash and out and dry again in time, which is just as well as it wasn’t all that warm.  Ok, so the bike wasn’t clean, but hey, give a girl a break, right?

As it turns out, there were four of us on our impromptu ACG coffee fun.  Myself, Martyn, his friend Paul, and Dave.  Well if I’d known..! 😉  We did indeed do a coffee run.  In the chilly sunshine.  In slightly wiggly fashion on the way out…

 

…to coffee which was at the usual place – Heaphy’s café – and my fodder was equally traditional.  Well there wasn’t any safe cake for me, and I figured I could probably use the sugar!  It was warm enough to sit outside in the sunshine and enjoy the morning, with the added benefit of no-one (ok me) having to be more than two metres away from their bikes.

I did try and get a photo of everyone with something sticking out of their head…  Martyn got the berry tree, Paul the market cross, but Dave appears to have escaped such ridicule 😉

  

I’m going to ban Martyn from bringing new people to the ACG, without some form of entrance exam being passed first.  Or more to the point, failed.  If you can quote your times from your racing days and count Paul Baker amongst your long term riding mates…*gulp*.  If you’re as fast and strong as Trevor and in this instance Paul, your name is not on the list and you’re not coming in…! *grin*.  Only joking…  I could probably have given Paul a ride for his money on a good day, ok, less probably more possibly…  Martyn was as unstoppable as ever, and Dave never has a problem keeping up.  But with the Wiggle New Forest in my legs, and more to the point in my knees, it just wasn’t going to happen today.

It was even colder when we set off again – that autumnal air seemed much colder when we were flying through it than it did when we were basking in it.  Spoiled by the sunshine we were :).  We wiggled our way home across the Levels, a route which to be fair ended up being rather further than I’d intended.  My tank was, if not on empty, far from full!  Testosterone got the best of the lads on the flat straight bit and once the average speed got past 21 mph I decide to rejoice in my lack of balls, let them get on with it, and catch them up when the competitive urge left them *grin*.

To be fair, they did a pretty good job of waiting for me, and nursing me along, as and when required, for which I’m most appreciative.  We had a nice chat here and there, enjoyed the weather and the scenery and the lack of flooding, and even if I shouldn’t have been out and may pay for it in the long run….I’m glad I went :).  And next time I’ll keep up better – honest!

Cycling time: 2:25:14 hrs
Distance: 37.67 miles
Avs: 15.6 mph.
ODO: 774.04 miles

That would be around 136 miles this weekend.  That would be how you get your monthly stats up!  That would be a tad insane! 😉

Wiggle New Forest 100 Sportive 2012 – Saturday

I have been somewhat spoilt lately, in that my last two sportives have been local.  I’d forgotten the horror of the 4:10am alarm call, the chill of getting dressed before the heating has woken up, the joys of loading up the car in the dark and the wet… *shudder*.  I was so out of practice that rather than taking breakfast with me to eat nearer my start time, I forgot and had my muesli at 4:30am!  Just as well as it happens as it didn’t go down that well, and at least my insides had time to settle before I got to where I was going.

HQ was at Brockenhurst College, Lyndhurst.  After a night of torrential rain the drive was a little more interesting than necessary, as the car and I negotiated the river pouring down the Gorge, and headed South East dodging the floods.  Bizarrely enough once I reached the top of the Mendips, there was a steady stream of cars heading West and blinding me with the headlights…I wonder where they were all going?  It didn’t start to get light until around 6:30am, by which time I was half starting to think it never would!

I arrived shortly after 7:00am, which made me one of the first as usual, and got me into the best car park.  ‘Rah!  I’ve been there three times now so I do kind of know my way around :).  I grabbed my helmet and headed for registration.  Being early, a lot of the stands were still setting up, and there were no queues for registration, but there were plenty of people to deal with everyone anyway, so it’s quite likely that there never were.  I was given my bike number, two ties, and a ticket for a free tea/coffee, and my timing tag was stuck on the LHS of my helmet.  Job done.

 

The forecast was for dry and sunny and fairly mild for October, which was all good, but actually it was pretty nippy out there to start with.  A perfect faffing forecast then.  I decide to stick with what I’d chosen, and leave the gilet and overgloves in the bag in case I needed them.  Well – if you set off chilly you warm up, and then don’t have to stop.  If you set off warm, you warm up to hot, and then have to stop, and I thought I’d try and avoid having to stop if I could.  Should you care, that left me in long socks, bib winter tights, Cyclosport jersey, Rapha Team winter jacket, mitts, and toe covers.  Don’t you feel better for knowing that? ;).

Having sorted myself and the bike out, and used the more than adequate facilities, I headed for the start line rather early.  Registration was supposed to be at 7:30, with starts from 8:00am onwards.  Well I registered at 7:15ish, and was at the line at 7:35am.  Still UK Cycling Events have been doing this a while now and I guess they’re pretty efficient!  I fully expected to have to hang around at the start as riders gathered, but was still kinda surprised to be amongst the first there…

 

…but there was a reason for that.  As I was standing there, with a handful of riders, Martin turned up, gave us a quick briefing, and sent us on our way.  7:38am and I was off.  Clearly we weren’t the first group let go either, as there were riders ahead of us – which was probably a good way of spreading us out on the road without too much fuss.  It was very early, it was definitely chilly and, <engage understatement mode>, there was some standing water around <end mode>.  Ok, let’s be honest, there was lots of water.  Lots and lots.  Lots of water, flowing and in puddles and in floods, and with debris washed all over the roads by the overnight weather.  Not so good.  There was no hurtling around to be done in conditions like that, it was far better to be constant and careful, as you never knew when you were going to hit gravel, or leaves, or a hidden pot hole.  It was hard to know whether some of the dodgier road surfaces are always like that, or were just like that as a result of the weather!

The sun was rising as we came onto the moors for the first time, and it was quite attractive really, if sunrise is your thing.  Especially as the sun may have woken up but the wind was having a lie in, unlike me.  Shame it didn’t stay away all day!  Anyway, the first couple of hours were shrouded in cloud, and the temperature failed to raise much, though my layers were mostly doing the job.  It was also essentially flat or at most, sort of rolling.  Just as well since there were plenty of other things to negotiate.  Like I said, water, floods, and debris.  Lets not forget fords, intentional and otherwise, and countless cattle grids, some of which were vicious enough to nearly shake your hands off the handlebars!  I walked around one ford, but that was almost more grief than riding through, so I rode through the rest…and got a soaking as a result.  Clearly they’re not usually that deep but still…  I also hate cattle grids, though they were inevitable today.  I gather there were some grid related accidents, particularly at the one which was instantly followed by a left turn.  Wheels need to be at 90 degrees to the grid, not thinking about going anywhere else…!  I hope everyone is ok :(.

Back to obstacles – and the “wild”life.  Since I was riding on my own today, and talking to the animals is a good a way of alerting to them to your presence as any, just call me Dr Doolittle.  I have talked to cows, horses, donkeys and even a ginger cat.  To horse riders and local dog walkers and other residents.  And even the occasional other rider, albeit only in (literally) passing.

 

 

At this point I was quite enjoying myself really.  The scenery was stunning, with wide open skies, views as far as the horizon all ’round, and precious little traffic to interrupt the idyll.  However being rolling, at best, it was quite tiring.  No downs to relieve you from the ups, just constant pedalling which is, on your own, quite hard work.  No-one to hide behind, no motivation to go faster.  The first food stop came at around 30 miles in, about 5 miles after I’d started hoping it would turn up.  With three stops on the route I’d sort of been hoping they were equally spaced…so it was a relief when I turned left, saw the “fuel station ahead” sign, and knew that I was going to get a bit of a breather.  Fuel as in Maxifuel – the sponsors – you see? :).  It was quite nice to have a quick stop, and I was even engaged in conversation by some fairly local riders who were able to tell me whereabouts Blissford Hill was in the route (about 30 miles from the end apparently), so that I could put off worrying about it until later!

 

All the foodstops were at village/town halls which meant proper toilets.  This one only had the one however, so there was a bit of a queue.  However several riders decided to make do later, being male and that being somewhat easier for them, and the rider in front of me proved that chivalry is not dead and insisted I go before him.  A proper gentleman – thanks!  That done, zip on my bibshorts proving its worth, I ate half a banana, chatted, and enjoyed the time out, before heading back out on my own again.

It was still overcast and chilly, and I was asking myself why, since the forecast had said it was going to clear up later in the day.  Then I realised it was only around 9:30ish so it was actually far from later in the day even if I had been riding for nigh on two hours!  Doh!  It actually got a bit chillier, and I was debating whether or not to put the gilet on when finally, around 10:00am, the cloud started to clear, the sun started breaking through and the temperature improved, along with my mood, a little.

After about 5 miles the “Standard” route went left, and my “Epic” route went right.  It didn’t even occur to me to go the other way as this wasn’t billed as being a particularly hard ride, the weather was ok, and I wasn’t doing too badly.  However the next 30 miles or so weren’t half as attractive.  This is not to say that they were unattractive, just not particularly remarkable.  We left the moor behind, and also the official New Forest area, and headed northwards through country lanes and towns.  The second food stop came as somewhat of a surprise, as it was only 15 miles after the last one and I barely felt like I’d gotten going again.  However I’m very glad I stopped as the ladies there were absolutely lovely and probably provided me with my longest conversation of the entire day – thank you Ms Orbea and Ms Specialized!  Apparently I was the first lady through, which is always nice to hear, even if it is because I was away early and hadn’t been overtaken by any other girls ;).  See how smiley they are?

Actually I overtook lots of riders as I went along.  There weren’t many that went past me, just a couple of groups.  I’d have loved a group…*sigh*.  The rest was the usual leapfrogging riders, as various kit became familiar, and wry smiles were exchanged when we passed each other again, either me passing them or vice versa.  Riding on my own was proving a tad lonesome, and I realised I was dawdling as I was finding it hard to motivate myself.  No real climbs to challenge myself with, no descents to make me grin, just lots of riding, with some slogging thrown in for good measure on slow grinds up, or into the now present headwind.  I wasn’t getting anywhere near the average speed I’d been hoping for, which was also annoying me.  I would have taken more photos but the best views tend to be of things you’re flying past, and I knew that stopping would make me even slower.  Here’s a pretty church for you though, in case you were feeling neglected ;).

I started giving myself small goals to aim for, to break it down and try to make it more manageable.  50 miles to be half way.  Then 60 miles.  Then 66 miles to be two thirds of the way through.  Then 70 to start looking for Blissford Hill…  20 minutes until the next bite of bar/flapjack.  That kind of thing, you get the picture.  Mostly today was about the scenery, which I tried to make a point of enjoying, and let’s face it, even though it wasn’t as nice as the early stages had been, it was fairly pretty.

 

 

At around the 70 mile mark, we rejoined the “Standard” route which did wonders for my mental state.  Not only were there now far more riders on the road so I didn’t feel quite so alone, but there were an awful lot of leisure, charity, mtb riders etc…also known as plenty of rabbits for me to hunt down and overtake, which helped me start feeling that maybe I could actually ride a bike ok again.  As we got the moor back, I got my mojo back.  Too little too late, and I was never going to be breaking the speed limit…but hey 😉

 

I was expecting the next food stop and then Blissford Hill, according to my insider acquired knowledge.  However as I turned right at a motorcycle marshal marked junction, there it was and the food stop wasn’t.  B*gger – I wasn’t expecting that, and I’d been planning to do some mental preparing myself for it first!  Ah well.  I was either going to make it up it or I wasn’t, right?   It’s the first hill that steep I’ve been up on the Cinelli.  It’s the first time I’ve been up it without the very bottom gear on my Cube.  It’s the first time I’ve climbed a hill out of the saddle in the Cinelli too.  So it was all a bit of an unknown…  I was in bottom gear as soon as I hit the climb, and though the legs spun wildly for a while, that didn’t last long as the 25% gradient bit.  Up, out of the saddle, climbing, in sight of the top…   That wonderful moment halfway up when, in sight of the photographer and the gathered audience of locals, you know you’re going to make it.  And I did.  As I announced to the waiting crowd, I now officially rock! *grin*.  I only went up it marginally faster than the last time but whereas back then I felt the aftereffects, shaky and wobbly, for quite some time – not so today.  Today I was all recovered in relatively short time and happily back on my way, safe in the knowledge that the big challenge of the day was behind me :).  Cheered me up considerably – I think I’d been worrying about it quite a lot in hindsight!

With 30 miles or to to go, I was mentally getting into the final straight.  Not that this was going to stop me stopping at the final food stop of course, where I could have had sweets, sandwiches, cake, the works.  The foodstops were a bit like Alice in Wonderland – divided into “drink me”, “eat me” (now), “take me” (eat me later).  Guess what I ate?  Yep.  Same as ever :).

 

I could have had my bike fixed or tweaked too, and several people were having their tyres brought up to proper pressure.  I saw quite a few riders dealing with punctures, probably due to all that debris, and I crossed my fingers to avert the puncture fairy every time I passed one, which seems to have worked.  Tyres like those on this bike might have been a good idea…isn’t it shiny and nice?  For a mtb/hybrid that is ;).  N+1?

 

Time to head for the end.  I played tag team with some Wyndy Milla riders for a bit, before finally finding a Trek to follow.  I’m used to following a Trek, it makes me feel at home *grin*.  This guy was in MTB kit on a road bike – weird, but it seemed to be working just fine for him.  We took it in turns, though I should have taken a few more at the front – and I might have done if it wasn’t for him dropping me on every slogging climb, and there were some grinds lurking towards the end.  It definitely helped having him to follow even if only in the distance sometimes.  Actually if he’d made it a little more clearer that it was my turn, I would have, but it took me a while to interpret is over the shoulder glance for what it was – an indication that I should stop lurking and start leading!  Once I’d worked that out, it worked a little better.  We did some together, took it turns to drop each other, but generally spent the last stretch more or less in the same vicinity.

 

There’s always less forest on this ride than I expect, especially considering that it’s called the New Forest.  Robin Hood would have had nowhere to hide here, it’s not surprising that he stuck to Sherwood!  (anyone singing this now? ;)).  However there was a nice stretch through some sections of Forestry Commission land, with arboretum, and parkland and the like before we ended up back on the moor and heading for the finish.  You’ll be pleased to hear that the guy on the right here stopped messing around and got back on the right – ie left – side of the road before the oncoming traffic got too close!

 

Not much further before we were back and riding through the contrastingly busy Brockenhurst, and finally riding over the Finish line, which came as somewhat of a relief.  MTB man and I shook hands, so there were clearly no hard feelings about my lack of weigh pulling ;).  One goody bag, one medal, and one very tired me heading for the car.

I found Henry and had a brief chat with him.  There’s no way I would ever have survived riding with him and Todd – they were about an hour faster than me!  But then I’m probably nearly, or possibly actually, twice his age, so that’s my excuse!  He was over by the food tent where there were burgers, and some fantastic smelling paella – generous portions for £4.  Not worth the risk if you’re me though.

Having been here before I knew there were changing facilities.  I hadn’t realised there were also showers lurking at the end of those changing rooms.  I travel with all the wherewithalls as a matter of course so just for once I actually had a shower.  Oh man, the luxury!  It was SO nice to be all clean and changed and kinda feeling like a girl again, even if only in jeans and a t-shirt.  Feeling almost human again, I went off and had my free coffee, and had a nice chat to Steve Hancock, one of the riders I’d met on the route and left behind me 😉  It almost felt like talking to a friendly face, which was a lovely way to round off the day.  We both agreed that the massage looked nice…but that we were too lazy to have one! *grin*.

Cycling time: 5:59:35 hrs
Distance: 98.27 miles
Avs: 16.4 mph.
ODO: 736.37 miles

My official time is 6:20:02 which puts me just 5 minutes outside gold, and much slower than my last two Wiggle New Forest rides, which was a bit disappointing, dagnamit!  See what I did here, should you want to.  I’ll blame the layers, the knee, the insides, the colder air, the lack of company…whatever works 😉  And hey, nowt wrong with Silver, right? :P.

Sing our own song

Rain, sunshine, rain, sunshine…

Cube, Cinelli, Cube, Cinelli…

Decisions, decisions…

But there hasn’t been enough summer (ooh, marvel at the understatement), I haven’t had my new baby long enough to feel ready to put it away just yet, and besides there will be plenty of worse weather coming our way, when using the Cube will really be the only way to go.  So new bike it was.  As if there was really any other choice *grin*.  And to be fair, it did a good job.  It’s just lovely to ride, and it seems happier braking in the wet now, which means I’m happier braking in the wet!  And there was definitely wet, but there was also dry.  There was sun and there was cloud.

 

There was an old pier and a new one.  There was George, and there was me.

 

There was also a lot of talking which presumably explains our sloth…  I’m always slower in the winter too – all that bulk around all my joints I reckon!  I was trying out yet more layer combinations so as to be best informed as to might work for this Saturday’s Wiggle New Forest 100 and I got it right, whilst re-discovering how fab my Rapha winter team jacket is.  Cool.  Or not, if you see what I mean.  I still reckon I’m going to need some more winter kit to mean that I can get miles in without having to make sure everything is clean and dry every time!  I wish winter kit wasn’t so boring though…  I want jackets in bright visible colours, with patterns and fun, not plain, or dark, or pink, or red.  But no white!  Talk about impractical…  Anything else is going to be underneath so it really doesn’t matter, but it would be nice to have something a bit more striking over the top.  When it comes to keeping warm I’m saving up for a women’s baselayer from Rapha, and their new deep winter collar, as a treat, and I’m justifying it by pretending that they may well also be to wear to my work where, not to put too fine a point on it, it tends to be feckin’ freezing!

Cycling time: 1:57:09 hrs
Distance: 28.21 miles
Avs: 14.4 mph.
ODO: 638.10 miles

Right, time to go and eat gluten free pasta and pretend I’m carb loading.  There are carbs in the white wine I’ll be drinking later, right? ;).

Nothing else matters

After the Bristol Belter I was oddly zen-ned out for quite a while.  A sort of it didn’t kill me, maybe it made me stronger thing.  Either that or it just took so much out of me there wasn’t enough left to be stressed out about anything.  It was quite a bizarre feeling whatever the explanation.  I didn’t even have plans to ride the bike again, and had a mad week ahead of me so was just going to muddle my way through it when, on Tuesday morning, when I was planning on going to the gym,  Mim got in touch.  She pointed out the reasonable weather, played the carpe diem card, and before I knew it I’d agreed to go for a ride.  And very nice it was too.

 

We kept it flat and easy, which worked for both of us – I still felt like I was in recovery mode not training mode.  The sun shone, we chatted, and it couldn’t have been much more different to the previous Sunday if it had tried.  Sunny and sociable – diametrically opposite in fact.  And man, that’s a good word :D.

Cycling time: 1:35:02 hrs
Distance: 25.79 miles
Avs: 16.3 mph.
ODO: 579.09 miles

See, I even had a smile on my face :).  Now why couldn’t it have been like that for the Bristol Belter?  Bleedin’ English weather…*sigh*.

On to the next reason I was busy.  On Thursday The Cycling Mayor Ltd went to the Cycleshow on trade day.  Which was unexpectedly awesome.  Because as it turns out, I knew lots of people!  I chatted to Pocpac and Nuun and Human Race, all of whom I’ve kinda worked with/for over the last year. To Purple Harry and Sponser Sport Food who I know of and knew from last year’s Cyclosport party.  Andrew was up there, with Neil and Josh.  From Cyclosport/Hot Chillee I saw Adam and Sven, and met Henry.  I met Dean Downing.  I met up with Belinda from Condor Cycles.  Dave Phillips from L2P happened to be there, he’s a regular reader here apparently – so hi Dave!  Local company Kiddimoto were there.  My Bike Shepherd boss Kevin was there, and Twickenham CC Sol too.  Martin Harrison, from Southern Sportive events, was there – I’ve done two of his events this year .  I was even second in line to have my photo taken with this man before his timetable (and bouncer!) moved him on…dagnamit!

There may be a couple of people I’ve forgotten in there, and I apologise if you’re one of them.  I also chatted to a few new people – re: nutrition, etape tours and so on.  I felt like I was, even only in a small way, part of the cycling industry, and I liked it :).  I wasn’t as shy about talking to people as I sometimes am either, which may have been due to the frock I was rocking – if I’m feeling good I cope with life a whole heap better.  It was apparently quite well appreciated by the pre-dominantly male audience too ;).  As I said, it was an unexpectedly good day.  I need to work at developing where I am somehow, to build on how far I’ve come since last year. That requires some serious thought though, so not now, hey?  Though if you have any ideas do let me know…  Since it was a cycleshow, I should probably show you a couple of bikes, right?

 

Pretty, no?  The one on the left would obviously make me go much faster.  The one on the right was made with me in mind…and probably costs less than 1/10th of the other one!

Which brings us to today.  A Monday, which is normally a rest day.  However I was away this weekend and so didn’t really need any more rest!  Plus after 6 days without the bike, even if I had made it to the gym a few times, I needed to get back out there again before I forgot how!  I have spent far too many hours driving up and down one of these of late…

…and it was time to spend some time with the bike, get some head space, and just enjoy some down time.

 

It was just the usual kind of training loop, in reasonable weather.  My new winter long bib tights got their second outing, and it was the first time back into the long sleeve winter jersey.  It be that time of year for sure.  It’s my first time trying out bib shorts and I think I like them.  They’re comfy, they stop the wind, the pad is good, they’re clever (zip for toilet stops!), and once they’ve bagged a little more around my over-sensitive knees, I think they’ll be just perfect :).

Cycling time: 1:53:39 hrs
Distance: 30.80 miles
Avs: 16.3 mph.
ODO: 609.89 miles

T’was not a ride of note.  My knee is not thrilled that I went out.  Strava is not particularly singing my praises.  But my head feels infinitely better for having been out there :).