5.15am is quite early in the morning.  But then if you hope to start riding at 6.30am that’s the kind of time you have to get up.  Which is why George and I, and L2P Kevin, had opted to stay at the Ibis Hotel opposite the ride start the night before.  Well, we’d have had to get up even earlier if we hadn’t!  Besides which it meant that we all had a very pleasant evening out on the Saturday, consuming pasta and bemoaning our complete sobriety when faced with a Bristol full of people obviously having a great time being anything but.  I’d love to know why dressing as a superhero for a night out on the Town improves it…and no, it wasn’t a stag night *grin*.

Back to the early morning.  It was hard to figure out what to wear, what with it being dark ‘n all so it was really a question of relying on the weather forecast and crossing your fingers.  We joined the initially slightly daunting queue for registration but found that actually it was organised really well and moved pretty fast.  I left the desk with a panoply of things to carry and sort out.  A tag for my bag so as to collect it in London.  A number for the bike plus one for the jersey.   A ticket for the coach ride home and one to hand in to deregister on arrival.  It took a while to get this all variously attached and sorted, but shortly we were near the start getting our rider briefing.  Steve joined us there, making it a group of 4 who set off not long after 6:30, pretty much as planned.

Cycling through the streets of Bristol is not something I’ve really done before, so it was quite a novel feeling.  Luckily at that time of morning there isn’t a lot of traffic around which is just as well as we nearly came a cropper when missing a sign early on, causing much hilarity and u-turning to get where we actually supposed to be going.  That would be one of the times when I actually managed to un-clip on time…  We headed out of Bristol on the A4, towards Bath, which involved quite a lot of dual carriageway and wide road.  This is probably good for warming up, but did seem to mean we were going pretty fast.  Steve and George sat at the back chatting away whilst Kevin and I tended to be ahead.  We’d have been chatting but we were breathing…  It seemed to take no time at all to get to Bath, and I’m sure it’s usually further away than that.  Having been amongst the first away from Bristol and having also overtaken a fair few folk along the way, we then had company again when we started passing those who started from Bath.

Leaving Bath behind the road, though mostly nice, ceased to be reliably flat.  OK, this isn’t the hilliest route in the world, but there are a few long hills.  However there was also a great tail wind – which is practically unheard of – blowing strongly from the west.  Nigh on perfect for cycling and just what I’d been hoping for.  It was even forecast!  🙂

I know this stretch of the A4 really well.  When I was at UWE (a long long long time ago) my Austin Allegro and I commuted (slowly) up and down it regularly.  I’ve even done it on a motorbike, albeit east to west.  I’ve done the odd bit as part of the White Horse Challenge.  Hubby’s family leave around here too.  It was kinda weird to be cycling the whole way though, with all the familiar scenery and places.   I think it helped make it more enjoyable though.  I played tour guide and told Kevin all about various bits of it, for which I’m sure he was very grateful.

I knew the first food stop was at Box.  I know the hill at Box.  I know there’s a layby at the top.  Which is where the food stop was bound to be, and duly was.  Complete with photographers of course.  Slow slog up, grin for the camera, and stop…  We stopped, grabbed coffee and supplies, used the portable loo, and I stuffed my arms into my bag.  Although it was warm enough when riding, it was quite easy to get chilly when stationary, which proved to be good motivation to get going again, and proved to be true all day.

The stretch from there to when we next stopped at Marlborough, in the very pretty Town Hall no less, was very scenic, quite up and down, but mostly quite pleasant.  By that time we had averaged over 17mph which was worrying me slightly.  I mean, I know the wind was in our favour, but that fast surely wasn’t going to be sustainable, and I really didn’t want to wipe out later on…  More coffee, and some jelly beans, and off we went again.  Up a couple of what I will describe as big hills, though some would no doubt argue that they weren’t really.  Like George, Steve and Kevin for example.  However after the last of these it turned out that that was pretty much it for going up in the world.  We cruised carefully past a disbanding party that had clearly taken place the night before and all of whom were slowly walking down the A4 back to their cars.  Judging by the state of some of them, I think it’s a party I’m glad I wasn’t invited too…and I’m fairly sure some of them shouldn’t have been getting in a car to drive home either…

The A4 from thereonin was wide, fairly straight, and….fast!   And, not to put too fine a point on it, a great deal of fun.  We all took our turns at the front, I avoided being dropped, and we reached our lunch stop at Theale, about 75 miles in, early enough for lunch to be practically second breakfasts.  It was a darn good lunch too, though I didn’t eat too much.  As it turns out by now I was suffering from cystitis and the last thing I fancied was an added dose of indigestion.

We headed off again with about 40 miles to go in somewhat gloomier weather.  A front must have come in because the wind moved, and got very gusty, the clouds gathered, and there was a bit of drizzle.  The nearer we got to London the worse the traffic got and the less fun the roads were, but it didn’t actually seem to slow us down much.  I was suffering with every bump, and trying to drink enough liquid to dilute the effects, which worked in the long run but not soon enough to please me.  Our final stop was about 90 miles in and although not everyone wanted to stop, I wanted/needed to – more coffee and the loo please.  While we were doing that, it flung it down, so my timing was pretty good.

The last 25 miles were notable mostly for the number of viscious speed bumps there seemed to be!  And the amount of traffic.  Although we stuck together, I was aware that being tired, I wasn’t possibly paying quite as much attention as I should be so I made a conscious effort to look out for myself – to look for the signs myself rather than following someone else’s wheel, to watch for traffic, and so on.  Avoiding casualty is a priority of mine…

Near the very end George and Steve found a more attractive pair and headed into the distance.  Not that they’re at all competitive at all.  Given that both of them had done sod all training it seems a tad unfair that they did the whole thing so easily…but I should be used to it by now.  That just left Kevin and I to negotiate the last bit, which always seems to take forever, especially when you arrive in sight of Kempton Park and then have to go ’round the houses to get in! *grin*.

We cycled in to applause, sunshine, and even posed for the obligatory photographer.  George and Steve emerged and joined us in shot, not wanting to be left out, but I like this one of Kevin and I.  Well, it was us that finished together.  Then it was time to look at the stats:

Cycling time: 6:13
Distance: 116.5 miles
Avs: 18.6 mph

Man.  I mean man!  Have you seen how fast we went?  Clearly that’s what a tail wind, a peloton, and a flattish route gets you.  I am so impressed with us.  Well, me at the very least.  I’m fairly sure George and Steve could have gone a lot faster, but Kevin seemed to share my jubilation. 😀  We were very very fast!

Time to check in, put the bike into AMR’s tender care for the journey home, and to start the après-ride.  Being amongst the first 30 or so in, our bikes practically started the back to Bristol pile, adding to our sense of superiority 😉 We headed for the showers, and George and I both had a free sports massage.  I wasn’t really aware that my legs hurt until he started work on them…but I’m sure it was good for them.  There were some very funny sensations involved in having some of the muscles manipulated and I yelped at least twice, which provided great entertainment value for everyone else. Do male masseurs enjoy making female clients squirm?…

After that it was up to the bar for some rehydration therapy – medicinal you understand.  As I sat, drinking my lager, feeling fast, outside the heavens opened.  Really and truly and properly.  The fact that I wasn’t still out there cycling in that was just the icing on the cake…as the same can’t be said for nearly everyone else *grin*.  I know, smug is very unattractive isn’t it? 😉

It was an AWESOME ride.  I’m fairly sure I should never do it again as it would be nigh on impossible to duplicate since the wind is never going to be that kind to me every again.  Again – awesome 😀

Today I have done over 5 hours riding which, if you think about it, is pretty much a stage of the Tour de France. I have led the pack, I have dropped off the pack on hills, I have sprinted for bridges, and I have chased down breakaway groups.   So which cyclist am I? *grin* Answers on the back of a postcard or, alternatively, you could always leave a comment…

Today was a game of three thirds, played out under a blanket of grey cloud that was nearly chilly but not quite…

Part 1: GB, GW and I met up at 7.00am and cycled into the park and ride at Long Ashton.  There’s something very cool about turning up to do a sportive on your bike…don’t ask me why but I’ve always thought it looks kind of professional and nonchalant.   Having said that, it didn’t seem quite so cool when I rolled out of bed at 6.00am but at least, since it was GB’s idea, I had someone to blame it all on.  To make up for it he showed us the flattest route into Bristol possible, by which I was proper impressed since I was unaware that it was possible to get there without toiling over unpleasant hills.  Points to GB 🙂

Cycling time: 1:09:01
Distance: 19.33 miles
Avs: 16.7 mph

Part 2: We did the Great Weston Ride.   The route took us back out from Long Ashton, through Barrow Gurney, and out to Chew Valley Lakes.   I know it seems flat in car, but the slog past the lakes and up to the main road was possibly the worst bit of the whole ride.   The strong wind was against us, the road surface is like porridge, and it’s all going slowly upwards…  It sort of saps the life out of you.   Not nice.   The main road there always feels like it ought to be flat, but is actually very up and down all the way to Blagdon, after which there is a bit of respite before the hill to come…  The first stop of the day was at the bottom of that hill – Burringtom Combe – where we regrouped, and chatted to the rabbit we had recently caught and dropped.  Thanks go to the very nice man at the bike shop there who let me use the loo.  We then plodded our way up the hill, into the wind.   We spread out a bit and did our own thing, thus avoiding attempts at conversation and turning a blind eye to any misery being suffered.  Did I mention it was windy?  Right.  It was windy.   Very windy over the top of the Mendips, which is where we re-grouped and re-layered.  It was drizzly too.   Which is GB’s fault for mentioning, earlier in the ride, that drizzle had been forecast and that there didn’t seem to be any.  Still, drizzle is better than rain.  Just.  GW alleges that it’s refreshing, which is a masterpiece of positive spin doctoring *grin*.

Once at the top there was a nice fast section along to Priddy before the nasty descent down the very same hill that GW made me go up on Friday.  We were on to very familiar territory now as we went through to Cocklake, along to Wedmore, and out to the second food stop at Hugh Sexey’s school where the coffee was nescaf but the cakes were apparently awesome.  We were clearly near the front of the ride as very few had been through before us, which was quite a nice feeling.  I was having a good day, my legs had settled in, provided there was little or no incline, and I was really quite enjoying chasing rabbits, eating up the miles, and generally going faster than usual.

Onwards through to Mark, Highbridge, from where the wind was finally in our favour.  Out dodging grockle traffic to Burnham, along the fast flats pushing all the way, up the hill to Uphill and down into WSM and the stage finish on the lawns there.  Turns out we were around the 5th cyclists in.  Oooh, get us 😉  Rather than a useless goody bag we got a ticket for a free ride on the Weston Eye and a voucher for free fish & chips.  Both of which we did.  Well, it would be rude not to.  And since we were there early we had plenty of time in hand too 😛

Cycling time: 3:25:08
Distance: 56.33 miles
Avs: 16.4 mph

Part 3: We cycled home again.  There’s something quite cool about doing that to.  Especially when you pass all the other cyclists still going the other way as you’re doing it.  Note to self however – chips do not make good cycling food.  They make for great indigestion.  By now GB’s man flu had worsened, my left knee was proper hurting despite the pink pills, and I’m sure we could have lived without the last couple of hills over Bleadon and the Webbington.  Apart from GW who blithely announced she couldn’t wait to go up Weare Hill because then she’d be properly worn out.  Bless – there’s a category of strange especially reserved for such people 😉

Cycling time: 0:39:21
Distance: 10.36 miles
Avs: 15.7 mph
ODO: 5127

That’s a total of 5:13:30 in the saddle, and 86.02 miles done.  I really enjoyed it – and definitely got a buzz from it.  Mind you, that could be the coffee – I’m still avoiding that for the most part so maybe now when I do drink it I get the benefits properly!  No, it was a really good ride, in good company.  I think I did ok 🙂  I’d been feeling at a bit of a loss with no bigger rides coming up on the calendar so it was a very good thing – thanks to GB for spotting it and suggesting it 🙂

Time to have a shower, kick back on the sofa, and watch the pros show me how it’s supposed to be done 🙂

The start of the Dragon Ride is brought to you by the letter Q and the number 5000.

I woke up before my alarm on Sunday and was well on schedule as I left my Travel Inn at around 7am.  A quick hop down the motorway, off at Bridgend and…straight into the Q for the car park.  *yawn*.  Once finally parked I reassembled the bike, loaded up my pockets, eyed the ominous clouds, considered the dodgy weather forecast, and opted to add my windproof vest to the mix.  I headed off towards the start and before leaving the car park, joined the Q for the toilets…which took about half an hour.  Still, it wasn’t exactly an optional extra…  That done I headed off to the start – a short ride away.  Where I discovered a massive Q as thousands of cyclists filtered through a one bike width entrance to the path to the start.  It’s clearly quite hard to fit 5000 cyclists through the eye of a needle…  We all patiently waited, in true British fashion,  feeling pretty warm as the weather had brightened a bit.  Mind you, there was no way I was taking that layer back to the car and starting over!

By the time I met my incredibly patient L2P mate Kevin by the start, and we headed off, it was nearly 9:00am, I was under-amused and an hour behind schedule.   Not the best start but at least we were finally underway.  It’s not easy, under such circumstances, to stop yourself from hurtling off like a bull out the gate, especially as the first section is fairly easy.  And Kevin is a whippet, which doesn’t help, as I found myself unconsciously keeping up as we chatted away.  We met the Phuk.dis crew, also L2P veterans, at the exit from the Llantrisant forest section which provided a handy excuse to stop, chat, remove the layer, and juggle provisions around to find room to stash it.  Just as well I did, as after that is where the hills begin.

I can’t decide whether being familiar with the route helps or not.  I think it tends to slow you down in between hills as you know what’s coming and want to pace yourself.  But then you probably actually deal with the hills themselves a bit better.  They’re mostly long slog hills and they really felt like slogs this time since I knew exactly how long they were going to go on for.  Actually it was amazing how much of the route I remembered from last year.  I’m not saying I could ride it on my own but…

Inevitably I have to compare this year’s ride with last year’s.  Bwlch 1 didn’t feel as good, but I got up Bwlch 2 without taking a break.  Llangenor barely troubled me as I knew it was there.  The worst hill, which I had forgotten about, is Cimla because it’s the steepest, and it’s steep for quite a long time, in an urban area, towards the end of the ride, with no stunning scenery to distract you.  At least the last feed stop is at the top and very welcome it was too!  Two things you get at the top of long hills – photographers to capture your misery, and food stops to relieve it.

The best bit of the ride?  The downhills. 😀  I’d been worried about how I would be with those, due to the nerves I have now about such things, but I actually handled them really well.  Some of them were just a joy.  My max speed was 39.4 which is awesome for me.  Long straight go on forever downs…as the memory of the climb to get there fades.  I think my mp3 player may be psychic.  Eddie Reader thought the first good downhill was “Perfect”, as I was practically flying down the back of the Bwlch for the second time, Glee were convinced that I was  “Defying Gravity”, and as we neared the end, Hue and Cry applauded my “Labour of Love”.  Pure coincidence?  I think not 😉

Cycling time: 8:24:52
Distance: 118.39 miles
Avs: 14.0 mph
ODO: 4610 miles
And, according to Kevin’s Garmin, 2715 metres of climbing…

So that’s slower than last year.  I’m a bit cross about that as I know overall I’m faster than I was then, and I was really hoping to better my time this year.  That’s what comes of doing the same ride twice – you get all competitive with yourself and set yourself goals.  For some reason I thought last year was 112 miles, which is weird, because it wasn’t.

The first half of the ride, or more, was into a nasty blustery head wind which was particularly noticeable going over the chilly and overcast Brecon Beacons.  Nowhere to hide up there, and precious few cyclists to hide behind too.  It’s amazing how spread out that many cyclists get, and after the split for the Medio route, there were even fewer around.  I think the wind was probably the main contributing factor to my slower speed.  Plus the weather, though seriously variable (hey, at least it didn’t rain as forecast), was also still too warm for me, and I think I got a bit dehydrated, which is never good.  I thought I’d eaten and drunk properly but clearly not.  Near the end I’d totally hit my sweet taste threshold and was very grateful that I’d made up one bottle of seriously dilute stuff at the last stop, where I had also downed some plain water.  I definitely perked up a bit after that.  Although lots of the ride was lovely, I just feel like it was harder this year than last, but I have no idea if that’s true, or if I’ve just blotted out last year!

So, I’m cross I’m slow.  There’s news for you.  However when you look at it – we cycled 118 miles on nowt more than a couple of bars, a ham roll, the odd banana, and some energy drink.  Compared to normal folk we’re practically super human!  So I’m fine as long as I don’t compare myself with my peers *grin*.

I was very glad of Kevin’s company.  We had quite a laugh from time to time, and having someone to chat to definitely got me through my usual mid-ride dip.   He was also very good at leaving me to get on with it going up hill – I like to suffer in private – and then waiting for me later.  I swear the man barely broke into a sweat all day.  I really wasn’t expecting him to stick with me for the whole ride and I’m both grateful and impressed that he did!

I’ve come to the conclusion that doing sportives is like giving birth.  It takes a long time, involves a lot of pain, and ends with a sense of achievement and euphoria.  And, amazingly quickly, the memory of the pain fades, and you find yourself contemplating doing it all over again next year…

Next year?  We’ll see…

Update: Official Time : 9:15:39.  Hard to believe we spent 45 minutes faffing around eating etc but I guess we must have!  1642 out of 1734 Gran Fondo riders.  Very poor…

What was I saying about misery and company?  Oh so true…

Dad and I arrived in Whitchurch bright and early this morning.  (And that’s likely to be the only time I use the word “bright” in this write-up).  Being so early, after killing a little time, we were pretty much first in the queue to sign on, and very nearly first to leave as well – which is the way I like it.  As I always say – sooner started sooner finished – so we set off into the chilly drizzle a bit before 8:30am.

The first one and half hours were awful.  It was cold.  We were doing a sort of flat loop – out in a NE direction and then back.  And the wind was blowing hard and cold from the NE.  The roads were terrible, covered in grit, full of potholes, wet and for anyone less cautious then me, potentially lethal.  And it was hillier than billed too.  My kind of hill – the long slow slog sort – but still…  It was impossible to get a rhythm going, or to warm up properly.   Dad had had the foresight to pack a waterproof – (mainly cos he wanted to show how how natty it is and how small it folds up *grin*) – so was able to put on an extra layer in an attempt to generate more heat to send to his absent fingers.  I had not.  Well I had, but I’d left mine in the car, what with rain not being forecast and all that.  By the first food stop my legs were soaked, my feet were on permanent vacation, and motivation was hard to find in the face of our demoralizing average speed.    It was threatening to be a very long day…  Even the stunning scenery and fabulous bluebells were hard put to cheer us up.

We soldiered on and at the top of the loop, by an industrial monument to the gods of telecommunication, we finally put the wind behind us.  Most definitely an improvement.  The roads improved, and so did our speed, a bit.  The temperature may have increased by a degree or so so we dried out a bit.   Due to the communal misery, we stuck together until the end of Dad’s medium route, leaving Dad back at the start, with us having dragged our average speed up to 13.7mph.  I headed off to do the remaining long route loop by myself.

That last loop had plenty of hills  as it was and had been rerouted to include two “feature” hills.  Streatley Hill was the first, and I quote from Wikipedia “Streatley Hill is a destination for cycling hill climbs – the annual Reading Cycle Hill Climb takes place every September. The hill featured in the Tour of Britain in 2008 as a designated King of the Mountains climb.”  It is apparently a category 2 hill – and it was a BIG hill – low gear grind up and up and up….  I made it though.  I didn’t get out of the saddle and I even overtook someone.  OK, so he was much larger than me and therefore carrying more up the hill, but I don’t care – I went past someone :P, Then there was some lovely long flat smooth country lane stuff, more hills, more downs…and then a turn back into the wind to slog the last section home.

The second monster was right at the end, the long long climb up Whitchurch Hill from Pangbourne back to HQ, which was nearly as bad, especially after 6 hours on the bike…talk about a sting in the tail!  But again, dogged determination and some dodgy music choice on the mp3 got me up there (Glee – Like a Prayer, since you asked), and that was that, ride done.

Cycling time: 6:13:21
Distance: 87.21 miles
Avs: 14.0 mph
ODO: 4218  miles

Compared to the last Ride It this one was – scenically – beautiful.  It was either beautiful woodland – and I have never seen so many bluebells – or rolling hills with vibrant yellow oilseed rape and views for miles.  There was wildlife galore – from red kites to pheasants, a lovely jay, and even a peacock.  Given decent weather and clear roads, this would be a cracker of  a ride.

Sadly however the temperature never got into double figures, the wind never dropped below them and even when some strange yellow disc in the sky started making appearances about 5 hours in, there was no reconnecting my feet.  Ah well, I clearly managed ok without them.

We felt a bit guilty because this was a ride ridden with punctures (pun intended!).  We met one guy on his fourth, as well as a couple who’d had enough between them to exhaust their gas cannister thingies who needed to borrow a pump.  It was their first sportive – bet they take a pump to the next one *grin*.  Pretty much everyone seemed to have suffered from at least one puncture – mostly more.  But not us…  Having said that, Dad’s tyre went “phut” some time later as he sat in the car waiting for me to return, which was a tad peculiar.  I got away scot free…*phew*!

If you really care about the route – it can be downloaded here.  My official time is going to be quite a bit slower what with stopping and starting, helping folk, and so on.  I did kind of enjoy it – especially the last loop (sorry Dad!) but it’s been slightly overshadowed by the news that my son had a self-inflicted trip to casualty this morning and now has to have surgery on a tendon in his left hand.  I only went away for one day! *grin*.  This would be why playing with knives is wrong…like he didn’t know that…*grrr*.

UPDATE: my official time is 6:39:25.  And the Evans Ride It team have tweeted to this blog entry – how cool is that?!

Yesterday was the second of this year’s events – one of the Evans Ride It! series, around the North Downs.  One of my L2P pals, Jon, lives nearby so I went up the night before to save myself a hideously early start on the day.  Just as well as I managed to get lost en route…which would have had me in a panic if I’d done it on the day!  See, I’m just useless if there aren’t big black arrows on a luminous background pointing me on my way…*grin*

We were up and out on the road by 7.30am as it was a 5 mile ride to the start in Chobham.  Not for us the chaos of trying to find car parking, oh no.  We arrived cool as cucumbers (it was a tad chilly) all ready to go – after the inevitable queue for registration of course.  At least there were no queues for the Ladies – which always makes a pleasant change from the usual run of things 😉

We met up with various other folk at the start, timing chips were strapped to ankles, and we headed off a little after 8:30am.  The chill took my fingers and feet away, though my fingers returned once I’d warmed up.  My feet didn’t come back until the sun came out in the afternoon but hey, who needs feet?  And they didn’t hurt so it wasn’t really a problem 🙂

It was, it has to be said, not the world’s most exciting sportive – either by way of terrain or scenery.  Couldn’t see the views for the trees really.  There were a couple of hills but nowt too drastic.  It was one of those routes that seem to be mainly designed to show you how the other half lives.  Let me tell you, some of the property around there? blimey!  The sort of houses where it takes measurable time to cycle past the frontages.  Presumably so you have enough time to admire the tennis court/garden/pond/stables/feel suitably jealous* (*delete as appropriate).

There were some nostalgic bits along the route for me as I used to live in that area, and I particularly enjoyed cycling past the Hogs Back Brewery – happy memories 🙂  Sadly I had no room for carry out. and neither of my bottles were empty *grin*.   That’s because I was a good girl and ate and drank every 20 minutes the whole way through, and kept the bottles topped up – pat me on the back.

We stopped a few time – water stops, toilet stops, pink pill stops – and there was a fair degree of chatting, so we weren’t pushing it.  The worst element of the ride was that we spent the first half of it with the wind behind us…which meant, inevitably, that the last half was going back into it.  There was also quite a lot of downs on the way out that we didn’t really notice until they turned into ups on the way back!  Jon and I stayed together until about 90 minutes from the end when we got separated, and I just wanted to push on and get back.  The last hour or so seemed to drag on for ages.  I was trying to get my average speed back up from 14.9mph to 15 but failed dismally as it just seemed to be lots of long slow drags up into the wind.  Try as I did to compensate the rest of the time, my speedo was just not having it…

Cycling time: 5:46:03
Distance: 85.4 miles
Avs: 14.7 mph
ODO: 3856 miles

I’m a tad disappointed with the average speed – it really should have been 15mph+ as it really wasn’t that hilly.  Even the weather was fairly kind, barring the wind, as the sun came out in the afternoon and I’d pretty much gotten my kit spot on.  So, maybe a “could do better” is required.  Who’d a thought it?  Me – complaining about not being challenged enough and wanting to go faster?! *grin*.  Don’t worry – it won’t happen again 😉

Including the 5 mile trip there and back – that makes 95 miles ridden yesterday.  Not a bad day’s work I guess.  I didn’t eat when I got in, just drank coffee while I waited for Jon, so I felt a bit off on the way back to his place.  However I felt fine as soon as I was off the bike.  And the weird thing is that I’m really not feeling it today either.  I’m not knackered, my body feels fine, even my usual ouchy bits are no ouchier than usual.  Which, I guess, bodes well for the Dragon 🙂

UPDATE: official time is in at 6:03:41, so all those little stops only added up to 17 minutes or so, which is less than I would have thought.

In order to avoid the early morning rush, I opted to stay over the night before the event.  Which is just as well, since if I hadn’t, I’d probably have wimped out.  For starters I came down with a cold on Thursday night.  I  hit it with everything I had – painkillers, vitamins, echinacea, coffee…the works.  And it seemed to be working.  I drove up to the hotel on Saturday afternoon, went out for Italian carbs with Jon and his partner Sam, and was feeling about 85% and pleased that I wasn’t feeling as bad as I’d expected to.  So far so good…

Back at the hotel, about 10pm ish, I noticed my left ear was feeling blocked.  Hm – historically not a good sign.  Nowt I could do about it though, so I went to bed at around 11pm, all ready to get a good night’s sleep…and was up again at midnight with chronic earache.  Ow!  It took about another 90 minutes for it to build up, pop, rumble, pop, pop a lot, start oozing gunk, and then settle enough for me to go back to sleep.  Not good.  That’ll be a perforated eardrum for you.  Nice.

Up at 7.00am to eat breakfast carbs and pink pills.  Well, since I was there, I couldn’t just roll over, wimp out, and have a duvet day, now could I?  My blackberry app tells me its -7C outside.  Which it may well have been.  It was certainly sunny and icy.  I put on every layer of cycling I possess, wrapped my head and neck in Buffs, stuffed the mp3 player in the suppurating left ear and drove down to the start.  Parking turned out to be around a very smelly cow shed – so the fact that it was freezing may have been a minor blessing on the olfactory front – high summer must stink to high heaven there!

I met Jon, who’d cycled down, once I’d put the bike together.  I signed up and got sorted, at which point I bumped into some of the L2P Phuk.dis crew which was nice.  It would have been nice to chat longer but hey, not the time or the place, and I didn’t see them afterwards.  I’m sure I’ll see them at future events..

My cycle computer decided that it wasn’t working.  Marvellous.  But Jon, being a boy, had a Garmin gadgety thing, and I figured that would have to do, and could supply me with blog stats ok, so I decided not to fret too much about it.  I couldn’t find the loos and it was time to head off, so Jon and I headed off at, by my reckoning, 8:36am.  Just as we set off I got this massive sort of internal twang of the muscles in my neck/shoulder – enough to make me gasp – and lost the ability to look over my left shoulder without wincing.

As you can see, I was off to a flying start…  It’s a good thing Jon was there since I was kinda woozy, and not really with it.  That’s the side effect of having half your head blocked.  It was very icy, and the low sun and long shadows made avoiding the ice and the potholes tricky enough, without having to try and spot the limited signage.  Jon’s gadget pointed us in the right direction more than once.  My PC was at least telling the time, so I could keep track of when to eat and roughly how long I’d been out.

Having missed the loos at the start, at some point the requirement for one became more pressing.  Public toilets are rapidly becoming a thing of the past, so after passing some closed ones, we stopped off and I asked in a little village shop…  After ascertaining that I was a girl, and that I was not the first of a horde, the initially hostile shopkeeper let me use his loo, which was very lovely of him, and quite restored my faith in people 🙂  Plus, with it being that cold out there, hiding behind a bush and exposing myself to the elements had been even less attractive than unusual!

Jon and I stuck together for quite a while, but some time during the second hour he dropped behind on a hill, and we never managed to sync up again.  I though he was behind me and waited up on Snowshill for him, but it turns out that a great many riders were wearing luminous yellow jackets, and the one behind me hadn’t been him at all…

…so after a while I decided to keep movin’ on, to keep warm if nothing else, and that was that.  I couldn’t tell you much about the ride – I was definitely a tad zoned out – it’s just kind of edited highlights.  The weather was glorious – wall to wall blue skies, spring sunshine, burgeoning British country side, lovely Cotswold villages, a great deal of seriously expensive property of dubious taste, and amazing views.  There was a fab long flat stretch before the feed stop with the wind behind me that was very lovely indeed.

Other than that, there were hills.  Plenty of ’em.  More than I expected, and an annoying number of them in the last hour and a half.  The largest hill took us up to Saintsbury (I think) and I did have to stop a couple of times.  I didn’t walk though – unlike many others – and I think if I’d been at 100% I’d have made it up all the way.  Mind you it’s easy to say that now 😉

Cycling time: 5:50 ish.  Say 5:30 not inc stops.
Distance: 77 miles
Avs: 14.0 mph
ODO: 3491 miles

I got in around 14:20 and someone yelled something about 5:50 – so knock 20 minutes or so off for stops, and you get 5 and half hours, which means I probably averaged around 14mph – which is the best guesstimate I’m likely to get.  Me and my hill weary legs walked the bike back to the car to pack it away, and to take a bit to regain my sangfroid, before queuing up for my exceedingly welcome bacon butty.  Come to think of it, my sang was pretty well froid enough… 😉

I hadn’t wanted to take my leg warmers with me, but I’m sure glad I did. it would have been hard to wear them otherwise!  And hey, pulling them up all the time can, oddly, be usefully distracting…  It never really warmed up – the ice lasted all day – and even with all the layers my feet went walkabout around the same time Jon did, never to be seen again…well, until the bacon butty queue that is.

The official route is here – but I have to say that most of the time I had no idea where I was – I was just on the bike pedalling, and looking for arrows…  Bearing in mind the scarcity of them, it’s a miracle I didn’t get lost, and not surprising that quite a few people did.  More than once I saw people heading off into the distance past an arrow pointing the way they should be going.  I’m just glad that wasn’t me 🙂

What with my state of mind and health, it was a good day to be cycling in the sunshine on my own, pleasing nobody but me.  All told, and all things considered, it was a pretty good ride 🙂

UPDATE : official time is 5:48.  123rd out of 232.  As the fastest was 4:15, I don’t reckon that’s too bad 🙂

(Just as an FYI – the doctor confirmed the eardrum this morning – so I have antibiotics for that, and also a number to call to get to physio treatment to look at my shoulder/neck problem, what with it being recurrent an’ all.)

Having been very organised, not to mention living just down the road, I signed my Dad and I up for today’s Cheddar Cyclosportive last night.  This meant that we could attach our numbers and timing chips before getting there, which made life a lot easier.  It was also really nice to be able to cycle to and from the sportive – local has a lot going for it.

That wasn’t the only advantage.  We turned up this morning around 8:40am and the queue for signing up was already backing up…  In fact it backed up so far that the start was delayed by 20 minutes or so.  We stood in the sun, with various friends and acquaintances, getting a little chilly, but right by the front so when the time came, we were amongst the first away.  I like that – sooner started sooner finished!

The route was mostly on familiar roads, which was a bit bizarre.  Paying to use roads I use all the time?  The first chunk was on fairly main roads which were luckily not too busy as it was quite early.  Out from Cheddar to Wedmore, up and down Mudgeley Hill, and out on the main road to Glastonbury.  Various groups who had started after us hurtled past us from time to time, and sometimes we were part of a peleton for a while, which was nice.  From there it was out to Street and beyond..and it wasn’t until the left turn near Ashcott that we left the main roads and traffic behind.  We did the first hour at over 19mph which just goes to show that what little wind there was was in our favour, the roads were flat, and the sun was shining! 🙂

Of course that mean we were nearly at High Ham hill…but I guess flat all the time would be boring, right?  I knew exactly what to expect, told Dad about which gear to be , and then got my own in  a complete tiz by ended up in top of bottom not bottom of bottom and had to stand up and push the pedals for a bit until I could sit down, take the strain off the pedals, and change into a sensible gear!  Still, both of us got up the hill to the first food stop where smiley happy people gave us flapjacks and welsh cakes – very yummy.

From there it was down and out to Langport – the least familiar section of the route for me – where we got stuck with a slower group.  Not that slower is necessarily a problem, but they kept slowing down and then speeding up which was harder to cope with than doing our own pace, so eventually we put our heads down and went past ’em!  2nd hour brought us down to an average of 17.something.  There was a nasty hill near Woolavington which I hadn’t even registered beforehand – so it came as a bit of a nasty shock!

We joined up with familiar roads near Basonbridge, and then there was the 2nd feedstop.  On from there to go over Brent Knoll, which was harder than when we recced it, something to do with there being less left in the legs I think,  After that it was almost like a normal training ride.  Back to Loxton, up the not flat road past Christon, up at Banwell Hill – still not much fun – and then I had much fun going very fast down the hill into Winscombe.  I overtook some bloke on a Cervelo who was less than impressed and had to catch my back wheel!  He may not have liked being overtaken by a girl, but he certainly didn’t mind being taken for a ride by on! *grin*.

Luckily the roadworks in Winscombe were passable so that we didn’t have to go up Winscombe Hill as feared, and from there it was a quick stretch to Shute Shelve and more hurtling down the bypass to get to the start, where we duly de-chipped, grabbed some food, and chilled on the grass in the sun for a bit.

Cycling time: 3:50:16 (officially with stops 3:58:49 – 98/134)
Distance: 65.02 miles
Avs: 16.9 mph
ODO: 2057 miles

The best bit for me was doing the corners and downhills much better than I have been, so I’m really happy with that.  It was a blast all ’round really.  We’re both really happy to have gotten in under 4 hours.  The average speed was fab – way more than Dad was expecting, or me to be honest.  You couldn’t have had better riding conditions.  Sunny, not too hot, not too much wind – great cycling weather all ’round.

Last event of this year’s season – and a good way to round it off 🙂

PS: I went out with S and P for a bit yesterday if you’re wondering about the apparent discrepancy in ODO increase.  Which you weren’t.  *grin*