The nice thing, in so far as there was one, to getting up at 5:00am this morning was that, unlike the last time I did this, it was daylight.  Which makes the whole process of loading up the car and heading off up the motorway that much more pleasant.

Unsurprisingly the motorways were virtually empty, as was the service station on the M5 where I stopped to eat my muesli and use the facilities.  I arrived at Stratford upon Avon racecourse on schedule, signed in, sorted me and my bike out, and managed to meet the BW, all with the minimum of fuss.  His parents handed him over to my tender care (yeah, right…) and we were underway at around 8:00am.  Good start.

The main thing to be said about today’s ride is that it was horrendously windy.  The rest of the weather varied from cloudy to sunny, wet to dry, but the wind never stopped.  Lots of gusty, loud, increasing, annoying, wind!

Due to the fact that there were 3 equidistant foodstops, the ride broke up nicely into four quarters.  The first 25 miles were pretty flat and I don’t recall a hill before the hour mark.  A good way to warm up.  BW stuck with me for the most part, though he had a tendency to be slightly ahead, and more than slightly ahead going up the hills.  Nothing new there then.  There were various groups for a while which was quite nice – got to hide from the wind somehow.  There was also a really annoying mile or so section where the road had recently been top-dressed.  Gravel everywhere, and no fun at all.  At least I didn’t get a puncture – several people did.  Which takes us to the first food stop where the BW precariously leant his bike against something…and the wind blew it over.  Result?  Slightly knackered derailleur which left him without his very bottom gear, made changing gear tricky, and meant that his chain fell off on a regular basis.  Not great…

The second quarter included the big climb of the day – Stanway Hill – the route split, and a couple of other similar lumps.  Nothing that I found too troubling.  In fact I made a point of going up Stanway a gear above bottom just to see if I could.  I could.  Right until the last corner where I hit the wall of wind again.  I even overtook folk.   So that was fun, kinda.  About 40 miles in I noticed BW developing a tendency to be behind me rather than in front, other than up hill, which was novel.  The route split, leaving the 100 milers in the minority again, and we didn’t really see much by way of other cyclists until the lunchtime foodstop.

So, half way done.  The third quarter was rolling, and, yes, still windy.  My knee started to go not long after the stop and rather than let it get worse, I took the pills asap, and luckily this time around they worked.  I could tell the BW was suffering by now, whether he’d admit it or not, even though I’d made sure he ate and drank at regular intervals.  He sat behind me and I tried not to leave him behind, though I was feeling really good, and fair flying from time to time.  At the final food stop we took a slightly longer break, and crammed food down him, but we still had 25 miles to do.  Which, since I’d gotten my average up to 16mph, could have been a mere hour and a half…

However those miles were where the worst of the wind was.  Which was unfair considering we’d thought it was pretty horrendous as it was!  But this was worse.  I mean just silly worse.  A constant fight.  Tree debris all over the roads.  I wanted to just push and get back as quickly as possible, but I decided that this ride was going to be a Lilo and Stitch thing – nobody gets left behind.  I did my very best to distract a hangdog BW, to be in front of him, to drop back and pick him up when necessary, and to make him hit the gels/jellybeans.  It felt like a very long 25 miles…  Just before the end he perked up a bit, and inevitably made sure to cross the line before me…*rolls eyes*.  He was welcomed back into the bosom of his family, leaving me feeling a tad lonesome with no-one to play post-match analysis with.

However I’m a big girl.  I coped.  I consoled myself with a double espresso – there’s a new trend, having very good coffee makers at sportives, and long may it continue.  I sat in the back of my car, put hubby on speaker phone to keep me company while I got changed, and there you go, another sportive done.

Cycling time: 6:36:37 hrs
Distance: 102.85 miles
Avs: 15.5 mph

It really wasn’t very hilly, only 1009 metres of climbing.  But, as a fellow rider put it, the wind took what should have been a straightforward fast ride and turned it into a total slog.  If G didn’t stand for Group I’d probably have been 20 minutes or so faster, but hey, that’s not really what it’s about is it?  It was the BW’s first 100 mile sportive and all things considered he did really well :).

The route was pretty and scenic, if we’d been paying attention which we weren’t really, being too busy concentrating on surviving the wind.  The roads were nice and quiet too, and mostly in pretty good nick.  Special mentions go to the expensive property, the Bentleys (yes, that’s plural), a hill with a windmill, and a massive fluffy road crossing caterpillar.  The food stops were great – village halls with toilets, and both well stocked and friendly.  Especially the little’un at the first stop happily announcing the availability of jelly babies if anyone wanted them :D.  The whole event seemed efficiently run, and I have yet another medal and goody bag bottle to add to the collection.  The chocolate covered cupcake was a bonus *grin*.

Right, I think that covers it.  Wheel Heroes 100 miler – done! 🙂

UPDATE: official time is 7:06:59.  Results don’t yet allow me to figure out where that puts me with the other 100 milers.  Probably just as well…

Just for a change, today’s sportive was on a Monday.  Easter Monday to be precise.  The Easterness of this was not evident on the early morning drive there as the roads were quiet, but man, on the way home, the hordes were heading North en masse…and the (thankfully opposite) M5 and the A38 were packed!   That’ll be the end of the Easter holidays for you then…

But that’s not really relevant is it?  Not to the Cotswold Spring Classic, which was today’s excuse for cycling in circles in the sun.  I was back to having company today – as GB was doing it too.  He’s really not a morning person, as I was reminded when he picked me up at 6.00am this morning.   He may not actually be a grumpy old man – allegedly – but he does a very good impression from time to time 😉  Which makes being perky early in the day very amusing if you’re me.  Which I am, so there :P.

Even given my irritating behaviour, GB stayed in my general vicinity for most of the ride, waiting for me from time to time and so forth.  What can I tell you about the ride?  Well, I’ve done a few rides around the Cotswold area before, so I thought I knew what to expect.  Which in some respects I did – lots of pretty scenery, carpets of bluebells, wild garlic, fields of white dandelion clocks, field upon field of bright yellow oil seed rape, cutesy expensive villages, flash cars…you get the general picture.  All the above in glorious, and really quite hot, sunshine, with an occasionally annoying but mostly refreshing NNE wind.  However, after a fast and relatively flat first 30 miles or so,  it was a lot hillier than I was expecting.  To clarify – I was expecting hills (check), long slow slogs like those I’ve done ’round there before(check)…but man, some of the hills were steep too!  That would be adding insult to injury…

It’s been a long time since I walked on a sportive but I did today.  To be fair, I was forced into it a couple of times by having to stop for traffic and not being able to get back on.  Oh, and getting my back wheel spinning in gravel and losing traction altogether on one occasion.  That time I was just grateful not to have fallen off :/  I made it up several hills that many didn’t though.  And some of them I got on top of and quite enjoyed.  The killer very steep hill towards the end did for me though.  But I’m not proud.  And if I’m cycling slower than I can walk then…  Besides, it stretches the legs.  Silver lining and all that.  I wish I could go up hills like GB, I really do.  But I can’t.  Tant pis.

It doesn’t help when you hit a big hill and see a large proportion of those ahead of you already walking – it totally de-motivates me, and emphasises how hard it must be.  I don’t like to go past people only to have to stop 10 metres further on either, it’s embarrassing, and is what I worry will happen.  I think left to my own devices and audience free, I might have done better.  Or I might not.  It doesn’t really matter 🙂  Besides, what goes up, however it goes up, does get to go down, and there were some glorious descents *flies in teeth*.

I did eat and drink enough, even if I did lose track of things from time to time.  For the first time ever, and fairly early on, first my left and then my right calf threatened cramp, so I drank more, stretched where I could, and managed to stave it off somehow.  As ever, and for all the usual reasons, I had to resort to painkillers at the 4 1/2 hour mark, but they efficiently did their job and got me through.  GB had less luck with his fuelling strategy and was suffering a bit towards the end, so I got to return the charity shown in his waiting for me from time to time by leading home the conquering heroes (yes, that’s us), and we crossed the finish line together – united front and all that 🙂

On a review front: Sign on was easy and quick.  Timing chips were attached to the numbers.  HQ had all the facilities required, from plenty of parking to toilets and changing etc.  The feedstops were good, with toilets (‘rah!), and were well provisioned and friendly, as were the staff throughout.  Friendly that is.  The signage was fairly good – with only one instance about 10 miles in where some toerag had moved a sign, but someone’s GPS pointed that out and we were on our way the right way without too much of a blip.  The route was scenic, mostly on back roads, and the road surfaces were as good as can be expected for such.  So pretty well organised all round – just bl**dy hard work! 🙂

Cycling time: 7:07:04 (not inc stops)
Distance: 107.54 miles
Avs: 15.0 mph
ODO: 8114 miles

As predicted, GB thinks we were pootling, whereas I think you’ll find that that’s just the normal pace at which I do sportives! 😉

The final touch of Easterness?  The Easter Egg in the goody bag – which I reckon should come as standard at all sportives *grin*.  I have to have earned a chunky Kit Kat, right? Methinks it may mysteriously vanish a little later on this evening…

UPDATE.  My official time is 7:33:27 – and I think they’ve tweaked the standards a little for the detour – because I had thought I was Bronze (over 7:30) and they’ve given me (and GB) a Silver.  ‘Rah!  254 people did the Long Route and I was 197th.  There were 21 women and I was 18th.  Ok, ok, enough with the figures already – I already know I’m not fast.  I do a lot of training and a lot of work so I guess it’s just not in me.  But I am Silver 🙂

I don’t know if it was the longest day, but it certainly wasn’t a short one…as it started at a very early and dark 5:00am.  35 minutes later I was on my way, heading off into the sunrise.

The further I went the lighter the sky became.  As I approached the M5 junction a fox streaked across the road in front of me, a flash of black keeping low to the ground.  And as I reached the M4/M5 junction the street lights were going off around me in oddly random fashion, and the sun was a molten ball rising ahead…in to which I was to drive, hiding behind the aptly named sun visor, for the rest of the journey.  .

I’d managed to acquire a cheap Thermos travel mug on Saturday so was drinking coffee as I went, but it’s somewhat tricky to eat muesli on the move.  So as planned I pulled into whichever services at around 6:30am where I duly ate breakfast and used the nearly deserted facilities.  Another hour on and Tim the TomTom had me at my destination – Dorney Lakes – where the lakes were still and the lycra was massing.  By the time I was registered, toileted, and had sufficiently faffed around, I was underway at around 8:30ish at a guess.  Bright and early morning sunny it may have been, but it sure wasn’t warm yet, and it was nice to have a flat run along the lakes to warm up a bit!

So off we went.  I say we, it was fairly quickly just me.  I overtook a few people and got stuck behind some for a while but I have to do a sportive at my pace or it just doesn’t work, so I overtook them and headed off into my own space.  That was pretty much it, barring the odd exception, for the rest of the ride, as the tale will tell.

The first hour or so was pretty flat, and I didn’t hit bottom gear until 45 minutes in.  To be fair this was not the hilliest of sportives – there was plenty of fast flat very enjoyable stuff – but there were quite a few hills, the Chiltern Hills to be precise, and they were mostly of the long slow drag variety.  Which is good as I can do those.  Slowly but surely that is.  The first big hill of the day was just before the 40km food stop – steep at the bottom and then a drag – and that steep bit was the steepest bit of the day.  However there was one long steep hill somewhere in the middle somewhere where I had to take a breather…  Still, no walking, that’ll do me.

It was a very colourful ride.  Green everywhere, Green Field, Green Common, the Green Man pun.  Early bluebells, periwinkles, blossom galore.  Copious quantities of butterflies.  A white and black windmill.  Panoramic views.  In homage to the area – there were some lovely How Now Brown Cows.  And the roads were littered with the corpses of very colourful peasants.  Sorry, make that pheasants.  You see if the numerous sportscars around had their way I think the former would more likely be true.  I was keeping a mental tally of them as you do.  Porsches were 10 a penny, I bumped into the same Z4 at least twice, the Caterham 7 was a highlight, as was the 3 wheeler Morgan, and the little convoy of frog-eyed sprites put a smile on my face.  I was somewhat taken aback by the lack of Aston Martins, having seen my fair share of Bentleys during the day, but Marlow High Street supplied a Vantage to fill in the gap.  Ok, ok, not that interesting, but when you have 8 hours of mental time to fill it’s amazing where the brain goes.  Harking back to the colourful theme, the Rainbow Inn looked distinctly tempting…

As the sun came out and temperatures rose, the denizens of affluent Buckinghamshire took to the roads.  And the streets.  And the parks.  And every single pub garden going.  BTW, unless you rate an 11/10 on the physical fitness front and have already acquired a suntan, please keep your pasty flesh under wraps…*grin*.  It got warm.  Very warm.  All my spare layers were stuffed in the saddle bag, and I was down as far as I could go.  The breeze that turned up in the afternoon was actually a relief because of its cooling effect – who knew I’d ever be grateful for wind?  Well, as you could tell on the few occasions when I had to stop, it really wasn’t enough that much of a wind.  Yes I stopped occasionally, for food, battery changing, call of nature, fly release, helmet bug check.   As you do.

Back to ride details for a little while.  The 90km/180km split was in Marlow – 1st time around – and not long after that someone had moved a sign.  Something to do with rival event politics.  They managed to get a marshal ahead and warn at least myself and two other guys who I’d met also cycling off into the uncertain distance.  Their GPS wasn’t helping…but once given a detour to get us back on track, we stuck together until that happened.  It was very sweet of them to let me tag along – being as they’re both Ironmen!  I kept up really well, but once we were back on track, and found the 60km food stop just up the road, they were off.  And that was that.  Back to me again.  In fact the next 120km was just me.  I saw more non-event cyclists than those cycling with me, and on the odd occasion when one of “mine” came past it came as a bit of a shock!

Which is where my main gripe comes in.  If I’m going to be on my own for 4 hours and have already been “lost” once, I don’t want to just think I’m on the right route, I want to know!  There weren’t enough signs, no repeaters, several junctions not marked at all…  Plus there a couple of daft bits – like taking you up to a roundabout and then back to turn left, and then there was a daft dog leg bit near the end which had you do a loop and then rejoin the route again that was confusing, badly marked and gratuitous.   I don’t want to have to try and read marker pen scrawled notes on a sign, especially 20km from the end when I’m hot, tired, and bothered.  I got lost doing that loop too and there was bad language used, to accompany my bizarre urge to burst into tears and throw a tantrum.  I retraced my steps and sorted it out, and I think my temper probably helped fuel me for a while!  GB would not have liked this – there was a lot of route retracing here and there especially to get back to base – which was however good in this case as the familiarity helps you know that you’re going the right way!  Or are you?  Maybe you’re lost and going in ever decreasing, or worse still increasing, circles? 😉

There were plenty of friendly food stops – although I never saw the 90km one – and they had water, and drinks and maxfuel food.  But what I wouldn’t have done for a nice plain fresh banana…  I can only eat so many energy bars.  Actually it always amazes me what you can do on very little.  I did the whole thing on drinks and 2 Torq bars.  That ain’t a lot.  I’ve just a doughnut to compensate *grin*.

It was a lovely ride.  Let’s face it, I got to ride a bike in gorgeous scenery, in the sun, for the best part of 8 hours, without a care in the world.  Well, apart from worrying about where I was of course.  That can’t be bad, right?  That’s the kind of day you dream about when the sun comes out.  😀

Cycling time: 7:23:46
Distance: 112.07 miles
Avs: 15.1 mph
ODO: 7835 miles

I got in to find everything being packed away, and precious few souls left around so I grabbed a diet coke and my t-shirt, and headed for the car, missing someone to share that post-ride euphoria with but happy enough nonetheless.  And hey, it’s easier to change clothes when there’s no-one left around to watch you.  That just left me with another 2 hours Reading services espresso fueled drive down the M4, once more into the sun, to get me home.  I guess I followed the sun all day 🙂  A long day indeed…

My official time is 7:55:53, which means over 8 hours I stopped for about 1/2 hour.  I was 72 out of 90 on the long route – I knew there weren’t many of us out there – which ain’t great 🙁  I was 3rd of the 3 women in my class – although 64 seconds faster and I’d have been 2nd – and there were only 4 women altogether.  The first woman was only half an hour so faster than me so maybe that’s positive.   Top time overall was 3:22.  I have no idea how people do that.  Ah well, at least I didn’t take 9:46…and I did have a very lovely ride 🙂

PS: to the red/black/white garbed p*ll*ck on the matching tri-bike who had to pass everyone in the bottle neck of people, bikers, cars and bikes at the Bull & Butcher – you do not need push past me, weave through the cars, and rudely cuss at some poor biker lady crossing the road for not moving out of your way fast enough even if you “have got 108 miles to do”.  People like you give cyclists a bad name and if your bike had had your number on it (too much drag for you?) I reckon you should have been disqualified.  If her biker friends had, as they were briefly tempted to do, chased you down and hit you I would have been neither surprised, nor condemnatory!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve just entered the Dragon Ride – for the third year running.  As has GB.  Luckily they’ve changed the route a bit so I can’t fail dismally to beat my own time (as was the case this year).  Although I maintain I’d have gone faster if I hadn’t spent so much time talking to Kevin, my riding partner at the time.  However that’s also rubbish as I was trying to go faster so as not to look such a wuss compared to him!

(There may be three other riders in our posse…if Kevin, GW, and SH have got their act together and get an entry in time)

Anyway, I have now entered all the events that I’ve got planned for next year.  I may add Bristol’s Biggest Bike Ride to the mix, and later in the year, I may do the Cheddar Sportive, or some other Autumn events but…for the time being, as a certain chef would say.  Sportive entries…done! 🙂

This weekend I will mostly be booking myself into all the sportives I plan on doing next year…  So far this includes:

• Mad March Hare
• Pro VO2 Longest Day Sportive
• Cotswold Spring Classic
• Wheel Heroes Ride
• Dartmoor Classic Sportive
• Verenti Dragon Ride

The only event I can’t yet enter is the Dragon Ride, which doesn’t open for a while yet, but all the others are sorted.  I know, I know, I’d like not to be this organised, but I can’t help it! *grin*.

I’ve chosen more challenging ones as I plan on getting better at hills next year.  My aim is to get the knee sorted by the end of this year, and then to get on with proper training in 2011.

Of course right now I don’t have a bike – it’s still with Andrew who had to order bits for it – so training would be a tad difficult anyway! *grin*

On Wednesday the Tour of Britain graced our end of Somerset with its presence.  The Stage 5 finish was in Glastonbury, which is so near here as to make it rude not to attend.  We did consider trying to find other places to watch it from but since there’s nothing on the route near here that any of the pro riders would even consider a hill, and thus be going slower up, there didn’t seem much point standing on the flat somewhere just to watch them swoosh past..

So, a contingent of the ACG set out from the Square around midday and went the nice flat easy way.  Well, not that easy because the wind was horrendous and, although it wasn’t in our faces, and was even occasionally behind us, mostly it was just attacking us with great gust-o from the side.  Not very nice.  I hate that lurch sideways across the road moment when it catches you through a gap in the hedge…

We obviously weren’t the only cyclists converging on Glastonbury.  We passed a couple of them, and the rest of them were hanging out on the High Street, trying to find places to park bikes, negotiating throngs of pedestrians, and by their sheer numbers making multi-coloured lyrca look normal.  We managed to lose one of our number in the throng, which wasn’t so good.  We had coffee and cake at Heaphy’s since there was space to sit outside and we thought he was inside with the three newbies, and he wasn’t.  Oops – sorry!  Since there was no view from there, what with it being the wrong side of the finish line and all, we decided to relocate to the top of the east end of town where the riders would just have come uphill, and any last minute action would be happening before the descent into town.  We managed to lose another three just doing that!

Those of us that were left found a nice corner to be on, parked our bikes on the grass between ourselves and a field of screaming school children, and waited…  Bearing in mind that most of those small children know nothing about cycling and care even less, their ability to be extremely over-excited about the whole thing and their stamina in maintaining that hysterial for a good hour or so is a thing to marvel at.  We on the other hand stood around making small talk, getting cold, occasionally getting rained on, and if  you’re me, jumping up and down to try and keep warm.   I’m darn glad I chose to take my arms with me, otherwise I’d have been done for…

Eventually, much later than planned, and after a host of police motorcycle outriders passed by, clearly enjoying their jobs immensely, we actually got to see cyclists.  The leader, a lone figure (Marco Frapporti apparently), nearly got lost just past us, which was amusing, but would probably have been less so if it had cost him the lead.  As it was, Mr Wiggins was close behind, but not close enough.  A couple of others followed, then one in-betweener, before the peloton went past…  And that was that.

We headed for home at a pace., or at least we set off that way, because I was freezing and needed to warm up.  GB and I both had school run commitments to get back for – his more urgent than mine – and time was running out.  He headed off into the distance, and the group spread out.  The wind was really nasty, and slowed us a down a lot, but at least having to push against it meant I stopped being cold fairly quickly.  On our way we passed a lot of cyclists clearly doing just the same as us – I pictured an aerial photo of the area showing a starburst of cyclists heading outwards from Glastonbury.   We ended up getting home in dribs and drabs, but at least we all got home in one piece, able to say that we had been there 🙂

Cycling time: 2:06:50
Distance: 31.54 miles
Avs: 14.8 mph
ODO: 5876