Author Archives: Jay Trotman

Just eat it

I was having a “conversation” (ok, we were twittering) with the very helpful Mark earlier, who also writes for Cyclosport, and as a result of part of our chat, he suggested to me that I could add another string to my blogging bow.  Well you know me, never one to miss an opportunity to blog about something! 😉  So…

It can’t have escaped your notice that I’ve been having some food/diet issues.  I’ll spare you the gory details, not that the details are gory, more painful and/or uncomfortable…but that’s not relevant.  It all started for real on New Year’s Day and has been pretty constant ever since.  Which at least makes it easier to keep track of how long it’s been going on, right?  I’ve had various tests and scans to rule out the sinister, and the current thought is some sort of IBS.  Why?  Who knows?  It may be, apparently, at least partially due to the use of ibuprofen (google the side-effects of non-steroidal anti-inflammatories) for my knee problem.  However the why is less important that dealing with the what.

I was referred to this dietetic consultant and as of last week, I’ve been put on a low FODMAP and lactose free diet for 8 weeks.  With, of course, no ibuprofen.  This will show whether or not my symptoms respond to a low FODMAP diet.  If so, we then start re-introducing foods bit by bit and seeing which ones I personally am sensitive to.  If I don’t respond to it, or don’t respond sufficiently, then I guess it’s something else and the investigations continue…

The low FODMAP diet is a way of managing the symptoms of IBS, and FODMAP stands for

  • Fermentable
  • Oligo-saccharides (fructans & galacto-oligosaccharides)
  • Di-saccharides (lactose)
  • Mono-saccharides (fructose)
  • And
  • Polyolds (sugar alcohols)

You have no idea how complicated this is.  I can barely pronounce half of those things, and I certainly can’t remember them when I’m trying to explain it to anyone.  Check out this example of a list of what I can and cannot eat.   The things I have to avoid!   There are many such lists, many opinions…this is the ‘net after all…so to keep things simple I’m going by the books my dietician has given me.  After all that’s what I’m paying her for, right?  I wish it was as simple as gluten free, which would actually be easier.  Buy the gluten free products – job done.  Sadly not.  This is no wheat, rye, barley, flour, pasta, gnocchi, noodles, no pulses, a whole heap of banned veg/fruit, most annoying of which are onion and garlic.  The lists go on, and on, and on…  And that’s before you rule out the allowed things that are not lactose free!

I had to wait a long time to see the dietician, as she’s a busy lady, but I knew low FODMAP was why I was being referred, so I’ve sort of been trying to do it in a haphazard fashion for a few weeks.  The strict diet, all informed, with lists to hand, only started on Monday.  I have to admit to a tendency to being lazy about it, especially when it’s just me.  Rice cakes + ham, or nutella, and I’m fine, so I tend to stick to what I know and eat that.  However, as I’m sure you’ll be keen to tell me, this doesn’t precisely count as a balanced diet!  So I think it’s fair to say I haven’t really gotten the hang of it yet.  On top up that, when I do venture beyond the boring, I keep slipping up.  For example last night’s camembert is FODMAP safe…but it isn’t lactose free – something I am now more than aware of.  Due to the restrictive nature of the diet I am becoming more and more aware of what I eat and what, if any, effect it has on me.  I’d say this was interesting, but to be honest, I’m getting more than a little bored of it all now.  As for explaining myself to everyone else…I’m boring myself rigid even if not my audience!  The last thing I want to be is one of those fussy eaters who bore/annoy everyone in equal measure…

Whether or not IBS turns out to be the diagnosis, sticking to the diet seems to be helping at least partially.  I am approaching this in a similar way to how I deal with a sportive, I am breaking it down into manageable chunks.  I am not thinking about the long-term as yet, since that is, as yet, an unknown quantity.  Right now it’s just about the next 8 weeks.  About fuelling myself for my sportives, eating to recover after them, and getting me up those Dolomites.  There’s no way I’m playing around and re-introducing foods, and presumably their related symptoms, before then.

So I’m now setting about finding out what I can eat, what I can cook.  And to counteract my terribly flawed diet, I’ve got enough vitamin supplements and the like to take that Zipvit now consider me a valued customer and dispatch such things first class.  And I don’t want to hear your opinions as to whether or not they work as if I believe they do, me and the placebo effect will be very happy together ;).

Now I can’t be, and in fact I know I’m not, the only cyclist having problems with diet and fuelling.  So I’m going to be sharing some of my dietary successes and, no doubt, failures with you.  After all, it’s clearly going to be a large part of my cycling, so it might as well be part of my blog too!

Let’s start with my first success – always good to start on a high note right?

This week I made a beef stir fry with ginger, green chilli, strips of beef, carrots, green beans, bean sprouts, rice noodles, oyster sauce, fish sauce, soy sauce, and fresh coriander – added in pretty much that order, and not all that precisely.  All “safe” ingredients.

stirfry leftovers in the wok

my serving of real food!

It was quite tasty, though possibly needs something to give it a little more oomph.  Next time…

To follow on, and because we could, we (being youngest and I) made a cake.  A Lemon and Orange Cake, recipe courtesy of BBC Good Food.  Which was, not to put too fine a point on it, totally awesome!  I was a bit worried that the mashed potato wouldn’t work as we were using leftover mashed potato from the night before – ie with lactose free milk and butter in it – but OMG!  It was awesome.  I have to say was, because I ate the last bit at lunchtime today *grin*.  It was moist and fluffy and citrussy and possibly one of the best cakes I’ve ever eaten, let alone made!  I’m really hoping I can duplicate that success again soon.  Well, it’s got mashed potato in, so it’s practically carb loading, right? 😉

The whole cake...

...going, going...

The best thing about this meal?  Well, several best things actually.  It had two courses.  I actually ate real food.  There were no serious consequences – though next time it’ll be lactofree butter in the cake and the mash.  And, here’s the real biggie, the whole family could eat it, ate it with me, and liked it.  It was almost like being normal or something! *grin*.

There you go Mark – now look what you’ve started! 😉

I learned to depend on me

Do you think the world is trying to tell me something?  I mean, the lengths people will go to to avoid riding with me! 😉  George went and acquired herself a destination limiting stomach bug from one of her mob, and GB has clearly decided I’m a pain in the neck, which has manifested itself as an actual pain in the neck that requires co-codamol and an osteopath! 🙁  That means that today’s ride turned into a solitary one, and that this Sunday’s ride is likely to do likewise.  B*gger.  I’m sorry, whatever it was, I won’t do it again, promise!  In the meantime I hope you both feel better, and are back on the road soon :).

The upside to being left to ride on my own was being able to leave when I wanted to, so the 9:00am start slipped by an hour.  Having ridden so much around here lately I was hard pushed to summon any enthusiasm for route planning, but I decided to go to the seaside, and to throw the odd hill in just for the hell of it.  Shipham Hill, that Bleadon Hill, and the Alpe de Winscombe as it turns out.  Or Winscombe d’Huez, which sounds better but makes less linguistic sense.

It wasn’t a very exciting ride.  It was just grey, in many senses of the word.  I got my layering strategy wrong.  Right number of layers I think, just the wrong layers.  Maybe even the wrong trousers.  I got cold, and lost my feet, and had to take less photos than usual.  Stopping was ok, standing still didn’t feel too cold, but getting going again with the NE air moving over your now slightly cooler self?  Not pleasant.  Still, this is a blog not a photo essay right?  And don’t worry, I still managed to take the odd picture, for those that prefer their books with lots of pictures in ;).

Just so as you know, this is the route that Bella says I did.  I hadn’t planned a route precisely, since I do kinda know my way around here by now…

…but just in case I didn’t, my route was full of signs…

Yes, that old (horse) chestnut 😉  Lack of originality never stopped me, right? *grin*.

Being as I was going that way, and as I’m still rather smitten with it, I’m going to take you over the new bridge with me again.

The seaside was much the same as ever, but more eau de bacon than eau de candyfloss today, which either means that candyfloss is only a sunny day thing, or that when the weather is like this, the grockles in Weston don’t get out of bed and down to breakfast until later than usual.  Come to think of it, as long as it’s decent quality, I’m probably allowed to eat bacon.  Now there’s a thought…

I did get a little bored pootling around from time to time, so I wrote you a haiku.  I’m sure it breaks many haiku rules, in various heinous ways, but if you feel the need to express your concerns on the matter, go tell someone who cares ;).

“People in your tin boxes,
where are the flies on your teeth?”

However it is interesting that you can ride around here a lot, and still not notice when things change.  I don’t know when it happened, but this cottage on the corner before the ascent of Winscombe Hill used to be clad in smooth white render.  I kinda liked the way the corner was rounded and shaped.  Stripping it back can’t have been an easy job, nor the work of but a few hours, so why haven’t I noticed it before?  Interestingly the curvy nature of the corner is much harder to make out now.

And just for your delectation, here’s another sign…

Time to go running up that hill, at what turns out to actually have been a fairly pitiful speed, but at least I got to fly down the bypass home.  I did better on the other climbs though, and I was feeling alright throughout.  I think I was slower than usual overall because I was cold, and it took me ages to warm up when I got home.  I was also, let’s be honest, not feeling all that motivated.

Cycling time: 2:03:53 hrs
Distance: 32.19 miles
Avs: 15.6 mph.
ODO: 13426 miles

I got home to more post, though not for me this time.  To use a few clichés, there was a distinct lack of blue sky (thinking) today, but you’ll be pleased to see that my cat can still think outside the box *grin*.

NB – she usually has a thing for hiding inside boxes, should you be after some context to put that comment in ;).

 

This is my church, this is where I heal my hurts

Finally!  It feels like forever since I rode my bike.  I know it was actually only last Friday, but even that was just a ride squeezed into a gap in the lousy weather.  Since then it has rained.  SO much.  Non-stop.  Constantly.  Heavily.  Unavoidably.  As I’m sure I’ve said before, I don’t mind (much) getting rained on when I’m out, but I do mind actually setting out in it.  But before you call me a fair weather cyclist, it’s not like this was just rain, it was wind too, and plenty of it.  So we didn’t ride on Sunday.  The weather was still awful Monday so I didn’t ride even though I was able to and I wanted to.  It didn’t clear until too late on Tuesday so I had to go to the gym.  By this morning I was climbing the walls…!

I won’t pretend today dawned sunny and bright, but it did dawn grey, dry, mild, and by the looks of it, not too windy.  That’ll do me!  Monsieur le Météo had kindly put together a weather report for those considering riding today.   Our man on the ground, aka BW, who has ended up on the ground yet again of late, had issued a warning on the state of Cheddar Gorge post deluge.  My weather station told me that it was 11C outside, and the BBC reckoned it was going to hit 15C later.  I was a well-informed woman, no?  Plenty of information at my fingertips.  Not that this stopped me faffing.  Especially since my new Cyclosport kit turned up yesterday (just to remind me I couldn’t ride presumably) so my options have increased and it being that bit warmer opened up a whole new world of possibly permutations *grin*.

Here’s what I went with, working from the bottom up.  Shoes, summer socks, blue legwarmers, summer shorts, Cyclosport s/s jersey, arms, Cyclosport gilet.  Want to see my shiny new jersey?  Here you go then.  I took it in the mirror, so the text was in reverse, but that’s what you get for taking photos in the mirror!  It has however been pointed out to me that this can be flipped, and that removes the issue…so here, have the real thing.

It’s a lovely jersey, fits really well, etc.  Which is quite impressing, considering that it’s men’s kit.  The rear view is quite different, which was rather hard to photograph on, as you might imagine, so…

As you can probably tell, if you look closely, it’s a little on the see-through side.  Which can be a little difficult for various reasons that will become apparent (transparent?) if you have to ride behind me for any length of time.  But let’s face it, I’m usually the one wheel sucking, not vice versa, so it’s not really a problem ;).  Besides which, with the gilet over the top, layering becomes once more the choice of champions.

Right.  Sartorial decisions made, time to actually ride the bike.  Apparently the wind was from the NE, so it made sense to head out into it, and get any slogging into it over and done with early.  Having been warned that Cheddar Gorge is awful, but knowing that I have to ride up there on Sunday, I thought I’d go check it out for myself.  I’m happy to report that at least for going up, it’s no worse than usual.  That gravel that has collected seems to be mostly on the downside, so be warned.  I found the Gorge pretty good going overall, which is good for the PMA.  The Somerset Hills Gran Fondo is long (111 miles) and quite hilly, and a tad daunting, so I need all the mental help I can get!

Considering the state of the road going down, I opted to head for a nice big main road descent, rather than Burrington Combe or Old Bristol Hill.  I went through Priddy, and all the way across the top of the Mendips, to where the aerial was disappearing into the clouds, that were still lurking around, amidst patches of some oddly coloured sky…

It’s a lovely tree lined road at the end up there.  If we were in France it would probably be called a Boulevard.  Boulevard Gambetta.  LeClerc. Haussman.  Etc.  One of those frequently reused road names that they seem to have in every french city.  Boulevard Priddy?

I nailed the big descent into Bristol.  Oh yes.  Much better than usual.  Even with a lorry lurking behind me.  Once he’d realised that he wasn’t getting past me, he backed off and let me get on with it.  Many thanks Monsieur le Camion, I had a whole heap of fun :).  I swear being in team kit makes me better at such things – I feel all professional and capable *grin*.

You get some interesting views of the Cathedral coming into town from that way which I keep meaning to photograph and this time I actually did.  Or should that be into city?  Size doesn’t matter remember…because if it did Axbridge would be a village ;).  It’s all history.  Axbridge has been a Town for 455 years, since King Philip and Queen Mary chose to make it so.  Wells has been City since 1205.  So there.  And if you want to argue about precise dates and so on, go do it on wikipedia.  Or down the local pub.

The sun was breaking through intermittently here, warming the colours of the stone, and me.  It was also market day, so the random wandering pedestrian factor was high, but it did make the place feel busy and alive.  I kinda like Wells, I just don’t get there much other than on the bike anymore.

I hadn’t really made a plan before I set off, but by now I’d decided to come home via Mark and the Webbington, just because I’ve not done that for a while.  It was going to take a bit longer than the usual two hours, which did make me consider changing my route, but then I realised I could be out for as long as I wanted, that I was enjoying myself, and that I could do as I pleased.  So I did.  Having said that, after a while, even with what wind there was behind me, just hurtling along on the flat did get a bit boring…

The rhynes around the Levels were pretty full, but there was only once place where they’d overflowed and the road was totally under water.  I guess they’re kind of managed flood plain, and lots of water is nothing new to them.  It’s one way to wash mud off the bike right?

I came home past the Webbington as planned, without really feeling the hill, and enjoyed the fact that the views were actually visible!  The descent at the other end was slightly ruined by the presence of a horse rider on the bend, but at least I saw her in advance and didn’t just discover her there whilst hurtling past.  Having seen her also meant I got to warn her I was coming through, which generally horse riders seem to appreciate, and she was no exception.  All good then 🙂

That just left the last little stretch up to the Town, and the swoop home.  Back home, dry, happy, and even happier to discover that the postman had been and left me lots more lovely cycling goodies.  The road surfaces had been way better than I’d expected, the bike was feeling good, and apart from the odd twinge in my knee, so was I really.  Actually the knee is a little worrying since I’ve been told not to take ibuprofen as part of the low FODMAP lactose free diet that I’ve been put on, so treating that is going to be difficult.  Paracetamol is all very well, but it’s often just not enough…especially if I’m taking paracetamol to treat the tummy pain!  Hm.  Could be interesting.

Cycling time: 2:29:11 hrs
Distance: 39.99 miles
Avs: 16.1 mph.
ODO: 13394 miles

Anyway, I felt much better for having had a couple of hours of that head space that I only get on the bike.  I missed my bike!  I guess the addict got her fix *grin*.  Here’s what Bella has to say on the matter.  Now, on to the shopping:

I now have these awesome new arms that I bought from Minx to replace my existing black now rather baggy ones, and I bought new summer socks whilst I was there, as you do.  Whilst buying a new white sports bra at Sheactive to cut back on the see through issue – which is not here yet – I also picked up a new sleeveless jersey on sale, and finally I have one that fits properly!  ‘Rah!

Finally, want to see something funny?  I mean, it’s not like we’ve even had that much sunshine around here!  That’s me for the season then – marked as a cyclist for all to see.  I wonder if there are mitt aficionados out there who can identify what brand of mitts you have by the shape of the sun tan mark?  Or is that a step too far even for cycling geeks? 😉 *Grin*.

Rock you like a hurricane

There are the times when, faced with a wavering will and failing motivation, the rules are there, to kick your ar*e, and get you on your bike.  Then there are days like today, when you can take them and stick ’em where the sun don’t shine.  Riding today would have been at the very least unpleasant, but at worst possibly also actively dangerous.  Judging by the amount of debris on the roads, the puncture fairy was going to be having a field day playing with those foolish enough to venture forth.  That would be the unpleasant.   But the wind and the rain?  I think riding today might also having been asking for an invitation to check out the nearest A&E department.  I’ve got so much coming up, so much I want to be doing and that I’m looking forward to that I’m sorry, that’s not a risk I was prepared to take.  So I didn’t.  I bailed on today’s planned ride with GB, and I went to the dry, warm, boring gym for a bit instead, and lived to ride another day :).

I take my time, I’m in no hurry

Do you want to know the most amazing thing about today’s ride?  Do you?  Shall I string out the suspense?…. No…?  Ok, I’ll tell.  Well…it didn’t rain on me.  Not once!  Not at all!  Practically unprecedented of late, and much appreciated :).

Deciding what to wear was tricky.  My longs are too big, and therefore baggy, and have, as a result, chafing issues, which are even worse when they’re wet.  Which the forecast suggested might be an issue, and I’m not sure the sore bits already acquired have healed up yet.  So I decided to go with the shorts/leg warmer combo, which is a new one to me.  I only have the legwarmers because it was recommended to have them for the Etape – for descending big hills when it gets chilly…and I didn’t use them even then, though I did use the over gloves that were recommended for the same reason.  At the time the blue option was cheaper than the others, and blue goes with my bike so…  Oh, and my summer cycling socks are blue too.  Snap.

I felt like a very bizarre sort of bumble bee.  And it was doubly weird since my Rapha shorts feel like you’re not wearing them, and the legwarmers, all bar the elastic hold up bit, were barely registering, whereas I was wearing two layers on my top half.  So, as I cycled away from Axbridge, I felt oddly naked from the waist down, which was a tad surreal!

Today’s route was the usual kind of loop, with the odd hill, because Mim wanted to do hills, and I should probably do some hills, what with the fact that all my events from here on in get longer and hillier…  We did Shipham Hill, which I followed Mim up, as usual…but apparently I still managed my 2nd best Strava time.  It was feeling pretty good but I wasn’t pushing, so that’s a pleasant surprise.

We went around via Banwell too, another hill to follow Hope up…

We also went over Brent Knoll, which also seemed less of a challenge than it sometimes does.  So that’s cool.  Or something.  The rest of the route involved the usual pootling around the usual roads, in sociable chatty fashion.  I dropped Mim off at George’s place for coffee and headed for home as I had places to be.  On the way home I took the scenic route to descend Weare Hill, just because I could, and because I rarely go that way.  That’s one of the nice things about being on a bike, you can decide to do what you want when you want to.  I decided to turn right instead of going straight on 🙂  Which is why you get to practice your elocution, in Eliza Doolittle style.  An impressive beast, no?

How now brown cow...

And there was a very pretty cherry tree corner too, which clearly I thought I should share with you.

And that was that really.  A nice two hour loop with a bit of everything and not too much of anything.  Job done :).  It occurs to me that I hadn’t strapped my knee up, but that it didn’t hurt either, which is a turn up for the books, but not something I would want to risk for a longer ride.  I saw my sports physio this week and have some more stretching and strengthening exercises for both knees.  Apparently there’s nothing serious wrong with them per se…I just use them a lot!

Cycling time: 2:08:41 hrs
Distance: 32.11 miles
Avs: 15.0 mph.
ODO: 13354 miles

In other news, today I appear to have entered the Black Rat Bristol Sportive, and also the medio corto route for the Wiggle Dragon Ride.  Well, I wasn’t doing anything else on those weekends, and resting isn’t really my thing, in case you hadn’t noticed.  I now have a sportive every weekend between now and the Maratona.  And I know that might be wrong, but I’m (not so secretly) quite excited about it all 🙂  I like a challenge, and besides, I’m determined to get good at this sportive lark! *grin*.

Mario Cipollini Gran Fondo

Gotta love a local sportive.  Whilst I didn’t go quite as far as riding to the start, which I suppose I could have done, I did get to stay in bed until the positively leisurely time of 6:45am.  How laid back is that?  I even got to load the car in daylight.  Such novelty :).

In fact, as I set off, there were even blue skies.  I took a photo to prove it, just in case that was the last time I saw such a thing all day!

The event start was at the Redwood Country Club, all of half an hour’s drive from here.  Mind you, around here, all it takes is a tractor in the wrong place and you could be talking considerably longer *grin*.

tractor in Barrow Gurney

So before you know it, there I was.  I parked up, and went to register, picking up a rather nice goody bag at the same time.  I was, as ever, early so I had a good hour or so to kill.  So I admired the Cipollini bikes on display, and chatted to my fellow Cyclosport writer Howie who was very firmly had his writer’s hat on rather than his rider’s helmet.  Mojo missing :(.

Man I can’t wait to get my new bike…*sigh*.  I faffed, and sorted my bike, and got myself together as the hordes gathered…  I say hordes, I think in the aim of keeping things small, selective, dare I say exclusive, the numbers were kept down to around 120.  So a rather small horde.  Which presumably makes Mario some sort of a cycling centurion, leading his lycra clad warriors into battle…?

There was some serious kit around strutting its stuff.  This was not a broad spectrum of riders.  This was carbon and race snakes, and all the gear and possibly no idea? 😉  Oh, and me.  In my battered longs, on my reliable and much loved mile muncher.  At least I was wearing Rapha, right? 😉  I didn’t half feel out of place.  Plus there was only a handful of girls in lycra, if that.  Mostly those women around were hangers on, or there to support their partners, so I did get the odd funny look.

I bet this guy got more funny looks than me though.  I may be supposed to know who he is.  His bike says he’s Steve Clarke.  Presumably he’s Steve Clarke then? *grin*.  That’s some stand out in a crowd kit though!  To say nothing of the long flowing locks…

At some point the famous (infamous?) Mario Cipollini emerged from the depths.  We all did that very English ignore the famous person thing…and he chatted to a couple of people he knew and sort of managed to be around without actually engaging at all.  Well, not over on our side of the car park anyway.  I was just grateful he wasn’t wearing white kit, which he does seem to do in an awful lot of the photos I’ve seen, because we all know white kit is wrong ;).

If we’re not talking to the man, there’s nothing wrong with paying attention to his bike though, right?  Very swish…  I’d go fast on one of those, right?

Finally it was time to go.  Well, not without the obligatory rider briefing of course.  Everyone seemed a little loathe to get going – was the big man supposed to lead the way or…?  But nothing happened, so we headed off anyway, which put me about third rider away.

Rider briefing

This was not going to be a ride that held any mystery for me – I think it’s safe to say I know these roads.  Some of them are at least a little less travelled than others, including the stretch across to Portishead, and then up the first real hill of the ride to the coast road.  I quite enjoyed it, purely due to its slight novelty value.  Shortly before this hill the Cipollini train passed me by…never to be seen again.  So much for working his way through the pack and sharing the love…

As we cycled along the coast road in the sun I mentally waved at Mum and Dad, and admired the views – just for once you could actually see Wales.  Bet Dad knows exactly where I was standing too.

As you can see the weather was initially pretty good.  I say initially…because the first rain came at 49 minutes in.  It was only a light shower, but it was a sign of things to come, a harbinger of doom, if you will.

At some point someone behind me hailed “the cycling mayor” which made me laugh, but I never did figure out who it was, mostly because I was leaving them behind at the time.  Especially interesting when you consider that I wasn’t wearing any of my customised kit.  Someone out there knows who I am ;).  Infamy, infamy…

The first food stop was at the White Hart near Congresbury, about 40km in, and very lovely it was too in their sunny car park, with facilities (ie toilets) in the pub itself.  That’s a tick on the toilet front then.  I know, I should stop going on about toilets on sportives, but it’s important! :).

The 1950’s bus cum café was serving up a storm.  The coffee was awesome, and came in mugs and everything.  No paper cups today, oh no.  The food available ranged from spanish tortilla, pizza and welsh rarebit, to lemon drizzle cake and flapjacks.  Let’s face it, this is the first sportive I’ve ever done that had a menu for its foodstops!  I risked a bit of tortilla – potatoes are usually pretty safe – and hung around in the sun with my coffee for a bit.  I was just walking across the car park, having checked out the facilities as it were, when a voice called out my name…and there was Dad!  I can’t tell you how nice it was to see a friendly face :).

It was all very pleasant there in the sunshine, as you can see.  If I’d known what was coming, I think I’d have hung around and enjoyed it longer!

my bike is sunbathing...

Clearly this photographer was rather more official than I, and taking it way more seriously.  Or over compensating.  Or something… 😉

Paparazzi papped

After chatting away for a bit on the serendipity of him actually having managed to find me at the right place and time, it was time to be on my way again.  We, being Dad and I, set off in the sunshine.  I tried to persuade Dad that he’d love to cycle up Burrington Combe with me but he was having none of it, dagnamit.  Can’t say as I blame him though!  Along the way we bumped into a familiar face also out enjoying the sunshine, who joined us for a bit before heading for home – hello again Rob!  Actually I think he was less enjoying the sunshine, more indulging in a bit of hero worship, as he’d actually managed to ride with the great man for a bit whilst on his meanderings.  Which is more than I did!  All too soon Dad was turning left, and I was heading for the hills.  Can you see the clouds gathering?

Time to engage crawler gear and go up.  Here’s Burrington Combe in photos.  I had to do something to pass the time, right?  It’s a climb I quite like, and it is what it is – a long steady climb that goes on for quite a while.

Before the first cattle grid

This is not the end, my friend...

By the time I reached the top, which is a considerable slog after the second cattle grid, it was raining again.  In less of a shower sense, and more like proper rain.  Delightful.  There is nowhere I’d rather be in the rain and blustery wind than the exposed top of the Mendips.  Not.  But at least it was all familiar territory.  It may have been miserable, but that’s a lot easier to deal with when you know that the misery is finite, and you know what’s coming up.

As I turned right towards Charterhouse, I caught, or was allowed to catch, another couple of riders.  They weren’t doing the ride but thought that they’d like to help someone who was, and would I like to suck a wheel for a few miles?  How cool is that?  And would it be ok if I bite your hand off now and accept?  😉  Nice guys! 🙂  We had a bit of a chat, although even though they were helping me out, it was still pretty hard keeping up…and they were making it look easy, so not that much chatting was actually possible, what with the whole need to breathe thing!  That lumpy gravelly muddy section over to Tynings Farm can be surprisingly sapping, especially in lousy weather.  And this was lousy weather.  Too wet for photographs for sure.  We parted company when we reached the t-junction at the now defunct Lillypool café, and I turned left to go up.  But at least I knew what was coming….the descent of Shipham Hill :).  Oh yes.  Now that I earned *grin*.  And I loved it – all the way to the bottom of a by now properly wet Cheddar Gorge.

My chain came off near the bottom of the Gorge, which was irritating, and messy, but my longs were wet enough that wiping my hands on them took care of most of the oil!  The rain also meant that the tourists and their cars were staying away, which made the climb a little more pleasant.  Silver linings?

After the wiggly steep section at the bottom the Gorge levels out, and though it may be heresy to say it, it gets a bit boring after that.  A long gradual climb to the top, with wet road, wet trees, wet rocks, without even the usual sheep/goats to distract me.  I know it’s an iconic climb ‘n all, but…  I wonder what it’s like for those on a sportive doing it for the first time?

Seeing this lot at the top did make me smile though :).

a Mini adventure?

This was followed by some gratuitous zig zagging across the top of the Mendips again, which presumably was supposed to keep us off the more major roads, or add miles, or something.  Not how I’d have designed it, but then no-one asked me.  Shame, my consultancy rates are very reasonable ;).  Some of it was quite a slog, either due to wind, or gradual incline, or both!  Finally I got my reward, the lovely back road down to Chewton Mendip where the second food stop was.   Or to name it more properly, the lunch stop, at Lynda’s Loaf.  No, seriously.  This was a Gran Fondo not a Sportive, which apparently means that it “offers the riders an exclusive and relaxed ambience as well as a prolonged experience”.  The rider briefing joked that the idea was to consume more calories during the ride than riding it burnt off!

There were various pizza, quiches, filo pastry things…with salads, coleslaw, cake, hot and cold drinks…all being eagerly received by damp cyclists.  You can check out that menu again if the details interest you that much.  Lots of variety, in seriously sizeable portions.

I decided to risk a slice of bacon and spelt quiche, and just not eat the pastry (not, as it turns out, a wise move).  The lady in charge, maybe Lynda herself?, was terribly apologetic, and if she’d known, she’d have made something gluten free…and she was ever so keen that I have some of her range of gluten free cakes afterwards.  I didn’t, but it was sweet of her nonetheless.  I’m afraid I just can’t eat that quantity of food and ride my bike.  In case you were wondering the quiche was very nice, even if it and I turned out to be less than compatible.  Sadly I couldn’t figure out where the coffee was, so I had to give that a miss.  Still, I probably didn’t really need any more caffeine :).

Inside the place was heaving, so I headed for the outdoors where people had previously been kicking back and enjoying their lunch, only to realise that it was now properly flinging it down, so I took shelter in the doorway.  Lunch inside looked like a very convivial affair, but it’s not so much fun when you’re on your own, and intruding into groups isn’t something I’m very good at…

Two local cyclists had taken it upon themselves to warn all the arriving riders of the kerb, to stop people falling off.  Very public spirited of them 🙂  Apparently Mario himself had come a cropper there…oops!  Bet that went down well.

mind the kerb!

sheltering riders

see that rain?!

So as food stops go, it was pretty well timed.  Both to break things up, and to dodge the weather!  I ate, and headed off again as the rain cleared a bit.  For a little while the skies hinted at better things to come, as I cycled through the familiar lanes around Litton and onwards.

After that the roads got grittier, and muddier, and lumpier, and just generally less pleasant.  I was getting very bored of fighting the wind and the wet on my own….I seem to have done rather too much of that of late!  The name of this road seemed particularly appropriate, and well timed…

Yep, I was having a bit of a sense of humour failure.  However the sight of aeroplanes approaching the airport cheered me up.  I like aeroplanes :).

spot the plane?

I stopped and watched one go right overhead before the climb up to Winford, and as I watched another rider passed me.  A rider with a stinking cold, sneezing and coughing his way along, and I couldn’t help thinking that this was probably not the best ride for that kind of thing!  Still, I passed him again and left him behind on the hill, always good for the PMA.

Just in case you were wondering, this may not be the New Forest, but we have some pretty impressive property over here too ;).

I knew I was getting closer and closer to the finish, as I watched the miles rack up on Bella, but those last few miles can take ever such a long time.  Even seeing Bristol in the distance didn’t really help.  Probably because it was precisely that – in the distance.  And covered in clouds…

The ride was mostly really well signed – white arrows on red backgrounds, with CAUTION (black on fluorescent yellow) signs as necessary.

However the one place that really needed a CAUTION sign was the one place that didn’t have one – at the bottom of the descent past the reservoirs at the T-junction with the fast moving and busy A38!  Just as well I knew it was there…  Everything seemed wet by now, but mostly just in a damp sense, by now I’d lost track of whether it was raining or not.  Barrow Gurney, for the second time of the day, was marginally more fun on a bike.  The GPX route I’d downloaded and the signs disagreed for a bit coming out of the village, but luckily I came across another sign before I had to decide whether or not to retrace my steps.  I hate having to do that.  Mr Sneezy caught me along here as I had slowed down whilst wondering what to do, and we chatted for a bit as we took the right turn and headed towards Long Ashton.  And then the heavens opened.  Not just a little bit.  Not just a crack.  Not ajar.  Wide open.  Deluge time.  O.  M.  G.   Like we weren’t wet and miserable enough.  Going through Long Ashton was as close as I want to get to swimming on the bike.  Throw in a running stage and I could have claimed to be a tri-athlete.  A yellow Ferrari passed by going the other way, and I think we were both thinking that our mean machines deserved better!  And when the hail started?  Words fail me…  I just put my head down, and pushed it.  Well, it’s not like I had a choice really :).

The final section through the Ashton Court estate was, courtesy of the weather, remarkably clear of the usual procession of grannies and pushchairs, though still, bizarrely, in possession of an ice-cream van.  Now that’s some serious wishful thinking for you.  Getting from the bottom of the estate to the top has more of a climb to it than I was expecting, not to mention some vicious little speed bumps in places.  We pottered ourselves all the way up and back out on to the main road near Clifton.  I could have used a tow, but apparently today was my day for towing.  My turn will come.  That last couple of miles was, not to put too fine a point on it, a bitch.  Traffic, traffic lights, rain, standing water, lousy road surface, and slow gradual barely discernable in a car climb nearly all the way to the finish which was just around the corner…no the next corner…no that one…and finally we were back, over the timing mat, and it was over.  Soaked to the skin, and very relieved to not be doing it anymore.

Cycling time: 4:28:46 hrs
Distance: 72.10 miles
Avs: 16.1 mph.
ODO: 13322 miles

Howie was waiting, doing his thing, interviewing folk and taking photos – a serious lesson in how it should be done.  I must learn to do that better.  Mario was trying to leave, but I think someone must have had a word, as he ended up sitting in the bar for a bit.  Howie took a couple of photos of him and I, though that was as good as it got on the interaction front.  And that wouldn’t have happened without Howie’s insistence – so I hope the photos turn out ok!

I left Mario to it, and collected my free jersey which is no doubt very expensive, but is also very see through – and they didn’t have any girl’s kit available.  I shall have to buy a summer sleeveless base layer to wear under it then.  I know just the one I want too…*grin*.  One quick cup of coffee, a bit more gassing and it was time to go home.

The official results went up today.  My official time is 4:53, and it looks like of the 109 finishers I was 36th.  Which is pretty darn acceptable even if the rest of the riders did all stop for long leisurely lunches ;).

So.  Was it a good sportive?  Well it’s quite a nice route.  Scenic with some nice climbs.  It was well signed, well supported, and very well catered.  But it’s not very long or massively hilly as these things go, so it’s not a sportive you’d do just for the challenge.  You do it to ride with a cycling hero, a man you’ve heard of, a character, arguable one of the greats…and on that front, as well as on the weather front, it was a complete washout.  Entry for the ride was £100 and I was lucky enough to be doing it for Cyclosport.  Sure, you get a very expensive jersey, a goody bag with many lovely things in – bar tape, snazzy bottle holder, bottle, etc, better than usual food, free massage, photos but…£100?  I’m thinking if I’d paid that entry fee myself I’d be quite cross right now.  Mario who?

photo of me at the finish by www.rightplacerighttime.co.uk

Mario Cipollini and a soaked to the skin me.

UPDATE: the official Cyclosport review, which includes Howie’s input, as well as mine and Holly’s (she got the gala dinner part!), is now up 🙂

Here I am, this is me

Well today we managed an hour before it rained.  Which is possibly a miracle, or at least feels so of late.  As I’ve been a bit under the weather this week, and have a sportive on Sunday, George and I just did an easy couple of hours on the Levels this morning, taking advantage of the fact that they’re not called that for nothing.  I felt surprisingly good, which hopefully bodes well for Sunday’s event, and even with the crappy weather it was still good to be out there.  The forecast for Sunday is almost identical to what we got today, so I’m even pretty much sure what I’m going to be wearing.  Exactly the same as today!

There’s not much to tell you about the ride really.  It looks like this.  Even though I was visiting, having only decided to do so at very short notice, the builders of Wells had not had enough warning, and had only managed to scaffold a very small part of the Cathedral.

Look, on the LHS, just there…I’m sure it’ll spread, scaffolding always seems to.  Just in case you think I actually cycle on my own and make up my cycling friends to make myself feel better, here’s George, resplendent in Tor 2000 kit, and no doubt thrilled to be the victim of my photographic zeal again.

Actually that’s one of the reasons the new ipod shuffle has no name.  I nearly christened it, in the same way as the Garmin became Bella, although that wasn’t entirely my fault 😉 .  But then I realised that naming everything was possibly a little tragic and that I am lucky enough to actually have real friends with real names so I probably didn’t need to go there *grin*.

On the way back we even happened across a sign to point us in the right direction.  Or the wrong direction.  Depends on how you look on it.  It was the right direction for going home.  But the wrong direction if headwinds aren’t really your thing.  And please don’t tell me they’re good training – I’ve heard it all before.  To be fair, though it was annoying, George was finding it a little more so than me, as I’ve had quite a lot of practice at head down slogging into the wind of late!

So we rode.  We talked.  We got rained on.  And we followed the two hour rule, and even made up the difference lacking from Wednesday’s ride.  As rides go it could have been a lot worse 🙂

Time to throw the cycling kit in the machine – again.  The bike can be washed tomorrow – time to “reward” a child into doing it methinks.  I was trying to pack all my stuff away neatly, as you do (well, sometimes), but I was slightly hindered by a new and unique Giro helmet taking up space in my helmet bag…

To be fair, it was a perfect fit.  Maybe she’s a MagnifiCat? 😉  *grin*.

Cycling time: 2:11:35 hrs
Distance: 34.84 miles
Avs: 15.9 mph.
ODO: 13250 miles

Wiggle Magnificat Ladies Preview Ride

It never rains but it pours.  And today it poured, and then some.  It was pouring when I left the house at 7:00am.  The M4 was a standing water spray filled nightmare, with as much rain coming up off the road and the cars on it as down from the sky above.  Yep – looked like sportive weather to me *sigh*.

Today was the Wiggle Magnificat Ladies Preview Ride, which was supposed to be a group of riders of the female persuasion doing the 51 mile CommuniCat route.  Due to the amount of water around, water water everywhere in fact, it turned into a handful of riders doing the 26 mile route.

Why just Ladies I hear you ask?  Oh, and I’d better not be hearing anyone suggesting I’m not a lady… 😉 *grin*.  Well essentially it’s because the Wiggle Magnificat has teamed up with the Breeze bike rides initiative, which is aimed at getting more women riding bikes.  The Magnificat is the first sportive to incorporate a Breeze ride – the 26 mile Breeze LadyCat which, as it turns out, we rode.  So in order to help publicise this, and spread the word, there we were.  A lady from Breeze, who explained it all to us, the local Breeze Champion, ladies from the local council, from Wiggle, and also three assorted racing ladies.  Oh, and me, with my Cyclosport hat on.  There was also male representation from British Cycling, and Phil O’Connor from Sportive Photo.  (Small world – I’ve bought photos from there in the past, and actually chatted briefly to him on Blissford Hill on Saturday!.  And last but not least, two of the event organisers – Ken and Andy.

Ken Robson

It took a while to get us all together at the start venue, what with weather, Newbury traffic and so forth.  The event starts from Newbury Racecourse which luckily I found easily and quickly, unlike some others.  As we sat in the dry and warm drinking coffee and getting to know each other, outside waves of heavy rain were interspersed with waves of…lighter rain and very occasional sunshine was but fleeting…  Ken decided, based on his knowledge of the route and the roads involved, that the amount of standing water around was going to make the planned 51 miles route treacherous, and that doing the shorter route would be more sensible.  Once we were all together, and had learnt a bit about why we were all there, it was finally time to ride.  Well, having gone all that way and being already kitted out, it would have been a shame not to do at least some riding.

Press call - www.sportivephoto.com

Only 5 of us actually rode – Wiggle lady, the three racers, and me.  At least when we set out it was dry…  We were led by Ken’s car, and followed up by Andy’s – which was a bit unnerving.  I’m used to listening out for cars behind me, so having one permanently there was weird.  Following a car was also interesting as it was a lot easier for him to keep a constant speed than it is for me – especially on the hills!  Mind you being chaperoned around the route like that did feel a tad professional – and if their cars had been yellow and black with wheels on top… 😉

follow the leader...

It was a relatively easy loop – though the first hill straight out of the race course would have been easier if we’d warmed up!  There were a couple of other hills en route but nothing I couldn’t plod up without too much grief.  As you’d expect it wasn’t massively hilly, as it’s supposed to be a route that’s encouraging riders not scaring them off!  The full length Magnificat is 127 miles and has 2800 meters of climbing, which is a whole different kettle of fish!  As we went round the rain came and went, the sun shone teasingly in between times, and there was even hail briefly.  The roads were wet and had had a lot of gravel washed over them in places, but at least they weren’t muddy – that had all washed away.  By the time we got in we were all soaked through and splattered, and probably quite grateful not to have done the 51 mile route, even if it did break my two hour rule ;). Here’s what Bella says we did.

It was wet out there... www.sportivephoto.com

Cycling time: 1:49:29 hrs
Distance: 29.82 miles
Avs: 16.3 mph.
ODO: 13215 miles

Now I have been known to get home before getting changed but when you’re soaked to the skin that isn’t really an option.  Time for a shower and clean dry clothes before lunch, more chatting, and heading back down the still dismal motorway to home.

My new bike is delayed, and I’m starting to wonder if it’ll ever turn up at all.  Which probably explains my minor case of bike envy…

race snake...

I’m going to write a proper Cyclosport review when I get the press release and photos, but in the meantime, this is what you get :).

UPDATE: the official Cyclosport is up here, and also on the Wiggle Magnificat website 🙂

Bullet The Blue Sky

If Carlsberg did rest days…they’d no doubt do them a darn sight better than I do.  I don’t like to have two rest days in a week.  My week runs Monday – Sunday.  On Monday I rested.  So, even with having ridden an event yesterday, I didn’t want to rest today.  Even with Sunday being a day of rest ‘n all.  That’s all a question of who your Gods are, and mine wear lycra so…

Pre-event I’d been considering my options for today.  Country walk?  Short ride with MiniMe?  The latter seemed most likely until GB posted on a certain social media site, and a plan for an unofficial ACG ride came together.  Not only was the idea of a ride in company good (and novel!), but it was also an 11:30am ride, which would give me time to sleep in and recover from not only the sportive but also the party I was due at afterwards.  Well…how could a girl not?

Which would explain why (considerably) less than 24 hours since I got off the bike I was back on it again.  More impressively; wearing the same lycra – washed and dried and everything!  There were four of us, myself, GB, Gary the hardy Northerner who was duly wearing shorts and a top and little else, and Ian, back from a brief hiatus to pay attention to the new arrival, such things being considered diplomatic.  GB sort of had a route in mind, or at least a particular coffee shop goal, and I was happy just to follow where I was led providing there weren’t too many massive hills involved.

Just as well really.  Call me lead for legs.  Well ok, that’s not strictly true, I was fine on the flat, but hit an incline and watch me drop like a stone…  I could feel what I can only presume is lactic acid in my legs – or whatever explanation scientists are currently using for that feeling you get when your legs are a bit tired because you used them to cycle a long way not so long ago and they’re wishing you hadn’t asked them to do it again quite so soon.  This was not helped by the fact that the other three dance up hills past me like they’re not even there, and that’s when I’m having a good day!  I did my best, and I was enjoying being out there though.  It was like yesterday – in the layers worn sense – but with sunshine!  Not warmth – don’t be daft – but that sun makes a big difference to how you feel about being out there :).

The route took us, in slightly circuitous and lumpy fashion, to the café at Kingston Seymour which turned out to be closed for a christening.  Debate ensued, and it was decided to head to the Walled Garden via Brockley Combe.  However as we set off I took to pondering.  I was quite likely to be a burden to those with me, who would probably choose to go up far bigger hills and do more miles if they weren’t having to take me into account.  I really shouldn’t be overdoing it, as I have a lot more events coming up, and I was clearly a bit tired.  And I really needed to be home to get to Morrisons this afternoon before they closed – because their gluten-free?/free from range is pretty good and I need to be eating things I can eat if I’m going to be doing so much riding.  Fuelling is becoming a real issue.  So I bailed and headed straight for home, back the way we came without the wiggles, and even resisted the temptation to go up Winscombe Hill just to round things off.  (It was a close call…).  My route therefore looks like this.

Turns out the rest of them did Brockley Combe, and Burrington Combe, and over 40 miles all in!  Now thanks to the observer effect, it’s impossible to know what would have happened if I hadn’t bailed.  Would we all have done that?  Probably not.  But I’m glad they did and that I didn’t! *grin*.  I am also glad I went, and I did ok all things considered.  I enjoyed having company too, which is just as well since the next sportive is due to be a solitary one too.  Unless Mario wants to ride with me of course 😉 *grin*.

Cycling time: 1:50:54 hrs
Distance: 29.31 miles
Avs: 15.9 mph.
ODO: 13185 miles

Wiggle New Forest Spring Saturday Sportive

…rinse…and repeat…

The alarm went off at 4:40am.  Mad as a box of frogs…  Since breakfast no longer involves assembly – bananas come ready made – and I’ve got this packing for a sportive lark down pat (well, mostly), it doesn’t take me long to get ready these days so I was out of the house and on the road by 5:15am or thereabouts.  I’m getting quite good at driving east these days…the roads most travelled of late (for the Lionheart, the Joker, and now the Wiggle New Forest…).  They’re quite fun first thing in the morning, as they’re fast roads, essentially empty, and when someone holds you up, overtaking opportunities are rife.  Draft and then slingshot past.  Not that I’m starting to drive like I ride or anything… 😉  *grin*.

I got to ride HQ – Brockenhurst College – around two hours later, which meant that although I was by no means first there, I did get to park in the car park nearest the start.  Always good.  Having done the New Forest 100 last year I was familiar with where everything was, and there are plenty of facilities – toilets, changing rooms, etc.  Registration took no time at all, the obligatory timing sticker went on my helmet, and that was that.  Sadly since I was doing this for Cyclosport – ie on a press/guest pass – I apparently wasn’t entitled to the free Maxifuel pack that riders who sign up to Wiggle Events early enough qualify for, nor a free tea/coffee ticket, which I thought was a bit poor.  The latter especially – you know how I feel about coffee!

Sports Centre HQ

Outside toilets too

Time to faff.  Gaze at the sky in search of inspiration.  Slaughter a goat and check out the entrails for weather forecasting information*.  Um and ah.  Change my mind, change it back again…  Compare what I was contemplating wearing with what everyone else was wearing.  Etc.  Not that there was much deliberation to be done since the only actual decisions to be made were overshoes or not, overgloves or not, Buff on head or not.  The rest was what I was wearing and that was that.  I was tempted to skip the overshoes…but then I remembered how much I hate cold feet (see the Joker) and stuck ’em on anyway.  The overgloves went in the saddle bag just in case, and the Buff went on my head, on the basis that I could always take it off later.  I got it so right.  And to those of you wearing shorts, I can only presume you’re all from up North.  Or just well ‘ard.

As you can see it was grey and gloomy.  What you can’t see is that it was also a tad chilly, and that there was more than enough wind.  Isn’t there always?  Actually what is enough wind?  None?  Anyway, having run out of layers to consider, gadgets to set up, and delaying tactics to use, it was time to head to the start.  I took my place in the pen indicated, and waited my turn.

Penned up and ready to go

Following a short riders’ briefing, our pen was on our way at 7:45am, one of the first away.  Today was my first solitary sportive of the season, though sadly it won’t be my last.  I stuck with a loose group for a while as we got underway, and it was, as ever this week, bleedin’ nippy out there once you started rushing that air past your skin!  Not as cold as the last event though, so I never completely lost touch with my fingers and about 10 minutes later they were back.  The group split up and spread out, mostly because they weren’t going fast enough for me and I needed to warm up, not wheel suck – that could wait for later – so I put my foot down and hurtled for a bit just to get going.  The first hour or so is nearly always the fastest, and it’s nice to get miles under your belt.  After a section in the so-called forest there was a climb up to the moor.  Well even the forest bits aren’t very foresty, supposing that foresty was an adjective.  I reckon it should be called the New Moor not the New Forest as there seems to be far of the former than the latter.  And man can it be bleak up there!  Flat, open, exposed, with the headwind to fight against over slab-laid road surface – bump bump bump over every tarmac filled join.  Nice…

I put my head down and slogged along.  Being away so early meant I couldn’t find a group to hook on to, so it was just me.  I was caught by a couple of the riders who I’d overtaken when trying to warm up, and after sitting behind me for a while they admonished me for being a lousy windbreak – apparently too small with too efficient a riding position – and promptly left me behind.  Charmin’.  Well, it’s a backhanded compliment I suppose ;).  Initially the roads were lovely and quiet, until about 9:15am when clearly the local residents all woke up, realised they’d run out of milk or needed a newspaper, and hit the roads in their 4x4s and the like – so the traffic level increased noticeably.

The weather slowly deteriorated, adding rain in varying strengths to the mix, and the temperature dropped another couple of degrees, so it was a relief to be off the moors for a bit.  I was glad of those overshoes now, and any thoughts of taking that Buff off my head were long gone.  The upside to the crap weather? Less people out there trying to enjoy the New Forest!  I think that helped a lot with the traffic levels, and with those drivers that were around not getting cross with cyclists being on their roads.   It was time to try and distract myself from the weather by enjoying the scenery.  Like this squirrel for example.  Though my youngest thinks there’s a distinct possibility that it’s a fox…

You should see some of the property lurking in amongst the trees.  Anyone want to buy a house, a very big house in the country?

Presumably the owners are amongst those who are able to shop here?  Clearly, being hoi polloi, I couldn’t get close enough to see what they drove, but I’m perfectly happy to make narrow minded assumptions *grin*.

The first food stop came at around 35 miles in which for some reason, it being an 83 mile ride, seemed a little late.  It was also sat in the middle of an exposed grassy area, with no toilet.  Darn…  At least it had everything else you could possibly need – drinks, water, bananas, fig rolls, flapjacks, jelly beans, etc.

None of which are any use to me in my current intolerant condition, so I just grabbed some water and topped up my Nuun.  There were two very smiley staff, which is impressive considering where they were standing and the conditions in which they were going to be doing so for hours!  I chatted to them briefly, and bemused them by taking their photo, before being on my way again.  There was another food stop at 48 miles, which was really (I think) for those doing the MTB event, though I’m sure they wouldn’t have refused to serve you if you had drop handlebars ;).  I didn’t stop there though, nor at the third stop at 54 miles in, since I was travelling well equipped and didn’t want to stop.

Third food stop

Anyone who’s heard of the New Forest knows about the ponies, but it’s not just horses and ponies that roam free you know.

if Gloucester Old Spot did cows...

There are horses, ponies, cows, donkeys, pigs, and grockles!  Which as it turns out is a word that originates from the New Forest.  Who knew?  And how serendipitous is that?! *grin*.  But I digress…  Due to the weather conditions and being on my own, a lot of the ride felt like a slog.  There’s not a lot of climbing involved, only around 8/900 metres all told, but there’s quite a lot of gradual undulation.  Without big climbs, you don’t get much by way of decent downs either, so you really have to make the most of those that you do get.

There was a memorable section somewhere on the return leg, back up on the moors, where the road was long and straight, and the wind was behind me, and I was flying for miles.  I could have done that all day :).  There is a kicker of a 25% hill in the middle as well, which I’d completely forgotten about.  The mind blocks out painful things apparently *grin*.  Which would be why I have two children not one presumably.  I think it’s called Blissford Hill.  Anyway luckily it’s short, and although I did have to get out of the saddle, I really didn’t have any problems getting up it this year – whereas I remember it being much harder work last time.  Result!  Mind you one poor guy in front of me had clearly decided it was too much, and was about to stop, but failed to un-cleat.  Now this would be bad enough usually, involving toppling onto your left side on the verge as it does, but sadly in this instance the verge turned into a deep concrete lined drainage gully…I can’t really describe quite what happened but it was fairly dramatic, involved him ending up upside down, with his bike on top of him, swallowed by the gully.  Judging by the cussing, it was also fairly painful.  The rider next to me was already stopping, so I just kept going, otherwise I could easily have joined him – stopping on that kind of hill with momentum is not easy.  If that was you – I hope you’re ok!

At around the 55 mile mark, after they overtook me, I ended up as part of a loose group of four, which I stuck with for a while.  However one of them at least (a younger lass from Evolution Tri), if not two, were tri-athletes, and I have this theory that they just don’t spend enough time road cycling.  No road warnings, no singling up to let cars by etc.  And no consistency to their speed either.  If I sat behind them they seemed to slow down, leaving me free-wheeling, and losing momentum by braking.  If I tried to sit on the front I’d end up pulling away from them, and then at some point, or junction, they’d end up with me again, and sit on the front again, slowing down…  Now I could have sat in this little group ’til the end, effectively being sucked home, and getting a free ride.  But I don’t go riding to take it easy, and besides, that was going to take longer than I wanted it .  We were getting down to 20 miles to go now, my legs could sense the end, and at a decent speed I thought that could be done in a reasonable time.

OK, I’ll admit it, I was trying to get a gold time.  Only because I managed one on the longer event last year, and it looked like it might be doable.  And it certainly wasn’t going to happen if I stayed where I was so…I put my foot down again, and pushed it for the next twenty odd miles.  It may have been harder work than it needed to be, but they never did catch me.  Knowing they were behind me somewhere probably helped motivate me to go faster too!  I doubt it worked though.

I crossed the finish line, fairly knackered but justifiably so, and collected my medal and goody bag (Cycling Plus, mini Muc-Off spray, bar, gel, water bottle etc).  After stashing my bike safely back in the car I went in search of refreshment.  There was quite a queue so I went and used the changing room and got, as that would imply, changed.  Well you can’t stay in damp lycra for long, not when driving home is going to take another couple of hours, so civvies seemed like a good idea, and the queue was a little better when I got back and joined it.

If such things are your thing, you could have had a sports massage too…

The fodder on offer looked all very nice, and if I could have I would have.  However they get extra points for having soup available – more events should have.  Well I was cold, and vegetable soup is a fairly safe dietary option for me, and very nice it was too.  Shame they over-charged me, but I wasn’t feeling up to saying anything about it.  I should also have been interviewing people to see how they’d found the event but, when on your own, it’s very hard to go approaching complete strangers in such a way, and I was feeling tired and quiet and shy, so I’m ashamed to say I wimped out.  If you rode it and have opinions about it, please get in touch! 🙂

Cycling time: 4:56:02 hrs
Distance: 84.52 miles
Avs: 17.1 mph.
ODO: 13156 miles

Ride number: 3848

Since the official times aren’t out yet I don’t know how I got on, but I think it’ll be a Silver because of stoppage time.  It needed to be <5hr 5mins for Gold, which is never going to have been the case.  B*gger.  I’m a little annoyed that I was slower than last year’s 17.8mph, but then I suppose I did spend a chunk of that ride in a group, and it was sunny and dry and towards the end of the season, all of which probably helped.  As opposed to early season, on my own, with miserable weather and a headwind.  I know, excuses excuses *grin*.

UPDATE:  Get in!  Official time is 5:03:28.  GOLD!  I am now a very happy girl :).

The official Cyclosport review is now up here :).

*(no animals were harmed in the creation of this blog 😉 ).