Ok, apparently I’m falling apart…  My IBS has been off on one, my knee is as previously described (geknackert!) and now my delightful children have returned to school, picked up a whole new wave of unfamiliar germs, and in caring and sharing fashion, passed a cold from one to the other to me…  Odd, since generally speaking sharing is not their strong point ;).

I had a plan for today.  It involved riding to see my sports physio in Wedmore, getting fixed, getting the rest of the usual kind of ride in, and ending up back at home all ready and sorted to go to work.  This however was before the germs multiplied, took hold, proliferated…

I did ride to the physio.  Mainly because we’d agreed that would be a logical way for her to see what effect riding was having on the knee.  It probably wasn’t a very good idea.  In fact it definitely wasn’t.  When I’ve got a decent cold, my head kinda vanishes off somewhere.  T’other half can always tell when I’m proper ill because I get stoopid.  It’s a bit like being permanently yet unpleasantly mildly drunk.  It is not a good way to be when riding the bike…!

It was however up there on the novelty value front.  You see, in some ways, I’m actually a pretty crap cyclist.  Bear with me, this will make sense shortly….  I am a crap cyclist in that my bike is not a mode of transport.  It is essential a mobile gym, a psych unit on wheels.  It is not there to get me from A to B, but out and back from A.  Unless it’s an Etape of course.  I can’t remember the last time I rode somewhere and actually had to lock the bike up, which is probably because I may well never have done so.  Nowhere I can go has the facilities I’d need when I get there.  Most of what I need is within walking distance.  Which would explain why I have a very lovely purple skinned Kryptonite lock that I’ve never used!  Mind you, it’s not the most practical thing to be lugging around – it’s heavy and barely fits in a jersey pocket, and definitely doesn’t fit in my saddle bag.

So today I actually used the bike as was originally intended.  I rode it to where I had to be.  I had checked there was somewhere to lock the bike up, without actually knowing whether or not it would all work.  Somewhat remiss of me.  However it did work, with a bit of a fiddle.  OK, so someone could still have nicked the back wheel but…

What did my physio say and do?  Well the good news is that it’s just the same old problem.  I don’t seem to have damaged or injured anything new.  Cycling may be good for joints, in that it is a low impact exercise, but is not necessarily good for knees as it exercises muscles in uneven ways, which in my case causes my kneecap to not track correctly.  Not a problem until you make it do that backwards and forwards thing slightly inaccurately for 6 hours.  Back when I started seeing Karen in 2010 there were various of my muscles that were tight, or not strong, and I’ve been working on them ever since, and most of them are a whole heap better and thus not contributing to the problem.  Which is presumably why it has been generally much better over all.  However apparently my illiotibial band is still very tight.  After one deep and very painful massage of the area, and a whole new way of strapping it up to give it a break for a couple of days, I was ready to be on my way again.  It’s probably a problem that’s never entirely going to go away, unless I stop cycling that is, it’s just something I have to manage.  Time to be more conscientious about my exercises at the gym methinks – stretching and strengthening.

I rode straight home.  Well, straight ish.  Actually, apart from my head being away from the fairies, and the knee feeling weird, the essentials of a cycling me were feeling fine.  Pretty strong in fact.  And there’s no better way to get rid copious quantities of snot…  But really, I was so zoned out as to make being on a bike and playing with the traffic a positively dangerous thing to be doing, so going home was definitely the better part of valour.

As you can see, it was a short ride.

Cycling time: 0:43:07 hrs
Distance: 12.47 miles
Avs: 17.3 mph.
ODO: 553.30 miles

And as you can also see, my replacement Rapha gloves are makin’ glovely (I did that on purpose) patterns on my hands.  I particularly like the dots over the knuckles.  And the dark blue bike matching nail varnish 😉 *grin*

R. I. C. E.

Rest.  Ice.  Compression.  Elevation.

Well I’ve been trying….

I left it over 48 hours between the end of the Cheddar Cyclosportive and Tuesday’s gym session.  That’s kind of rest, right?  I’ve been applying ice.  I’ve bought a nice black sports bandage thing.  As for elevation, well…a bit.  Hey, I said I’m trying ok?  Not that I was succeeding! *grin*.

The gym?  Well I wore the bandage, and took it carefully.  It went ok.  Ish.  Happy enough when it was going around, less than thrilled about the going round afterwards.  But better than it might have been.  Though it would probably have been better to have left more than 12 hours between that gym session and this morning’s ride…but life just doesn’t work like that, does it?

You see as it turns out Martyn had been in touch as he was unexpectedly free to ride.  I deferred making a decision on riding until after the gym, but on the basis that my knee was still working, I decided I would join him after all.  I needed to see how the knee would feel on the bike proper as opposed to the gym bike.  So there we were, at 9:30am in the Square, admiring the sunshine.  Actual sunshine!  OK, so the air temperature left a little to be desired but there’s a lot to be said for blue skies and sunshine at any time of the year.  It was one of those days where I got the kit spot on.  Spot on is when your layers stay where you put them and the only thing that moves is the zip, up and down.  Today was a palmares kit day.  Etape jersey and Maratona gilet, with arms warmed but legs not.   Both motivational and functional.  I do think I should remember how much I’ve achieved sometimes.  I may not win any medals, but I’ve done pretty well really :).

We hadn’t really planned a route.  The idea was to do a couple of easy hours to see how I got on, so we pretty much made it up as we went along.  And to start with, just for novelty value we checked out the traffic light queue in Cheddar ;).  Yep – still there…

How about we play photographic dot-to-dot and you can figure out where we went?

Looks nice out there doesn’t it?  Well it was, mostly, but it was actually pretty breezy, and that breeze just got stronger as time went on, until it was turning even the flat into a slog.  I really do hate wind!  Mind you it was making the windmill go round so at least it was being useful to someone… :/

Tors, and tall trees.  Terrific 🙂

A two hour ride turned out to be rather longer than that, because that’s just the way it happens, and also what happens when there isn’t a plan, but it wasn’t an issue as we both had time in hand.  So much easier to ride when there isn’t that pressure to be back in time to be somewhere else.  Ask Bella what we did if you’re really interested :).

Cycling time: 2:33:06 hrs
Distance: 41.29 miles
Avs: 16.2 mph.
ODO: 540.83 miles

There probably won’t be many more days like these, as the seasons change, the temperature drops, and the wind blows unpleasant weather at us with impish delight.  Best to make the most of it then.  It wasn’t the fastest ride.  It wasn’t a challenging ride, not from a gradient point of view.  However since it wasn’t intended to be either, this is good.  It was however sociable and enjoyable and sunny.  Which is also good.  It was also little bit painful…

Yes, back to the knee again.  Well I was riding to see how it was, wasn’t I?  For all I know, the suspense is getting to you, and you can’t wait to hear how it was.  OK, it seems unlikely, but just in case…;)

I strapped the knee up for the ride, which didn’t actually seem to help, and which didn’t stick properly either, so that came off somewhere after Wedmore.  Rather than the occasional twinge that is its usual stock in trade, the knee settled down into general lowgrade background painful fairly quickly, and slowly ramped up from there.  As on Sunday, constant careful pedalling was pretty much ok, but anything other than that was not going down a storm.  By the time I got back it had swollen up again – which is hard to describe because it’s not that visibly puffy from the outside but it feels all puffy and squishy internally when you use it.  So it’s back to the RICE for me.  I’m seeing my sports physio on Friday, and hopefully with both of those things, and a bit more easy exercise, I should be up for the Bristol Belter on Sunday.  GB – consider yourself warned – I will be wheel sucking! *grin*.

Another day, another ride.

Different company, different weather!

Now why couldn’t it have been like this yesterday?!  At least it was this way ’round – one of my infamous blue legwarmers is still in Minehead and I won’t be getting back until Sunday when we all meet up to do the Cheddar Cyclosportive, and I don’t have any longs for the winter yet :).

Cycling time: 1:58:30 hrs
Distance: 32.83 miles
Avs: 16.6 mph.
ODO: 394.93 miles

I should be paid to stay away from Exmoor.  Unless there’s a drought, and a risk of wildfire, in which case I could be paid to cycle around there for a couple of days.  Or, like the Exmoor Beast preview ride, just to be in the general vicinity with a bike that I could be riding…

Today I made my way to Minehead to meet up with Gaz and be shown the wonders of Exmoor.  It was raining here when I left, rained most of the way there, and then dried up when I arrived….just long enough for us to get ready indoors and then head out again.  At which point yes, you guessed it, the rain started again.  Well if you’re being picky, at that point it was probably technically drizzle, but it was rain soon enough, and on and off, for the whole ride.  Good thing I had a lot of assorted layers with me right?  Including my new Etape Cymru jersey, which I did promise to show you.

Well, Wales has mountains, Exmoor has the Porlock Toll Road…it seemed appropriate.  I’ve never done it before, and I was quite excited about it, in an inexplicably odd fashion.  Dad kindly pointed out that he went up it on a fully laden touring steel touring bike back in the day (presumably to escape the rising waters as the Ark neared completion ;)) and that if he could do it, then I should be ok.  I’m not sure that was helping!  Still, here we are, at the bottom, getting ready.  Gilet off (me), glasses dried for the first of many times (Gaz), camera over-used as ever (me!).

I liked the toll road.  A lot!  How mad is that?  But I really did.  It’s long, not very steep, has the occasional hairpin bend, goes on for scenic miles, with gorgeous views of moor and sea…  Lovely :).  I’m already looking forward to going back and doing it again and seeing how fast I can go up it!  Sad I know *grin*.  Today it was wet, all new, and sociable – no Strava segments for us ;).  Since I had the time, here’s a brief photo diary of the climb for you…

They say the weather up on’t moors is changeable, and they’re not joking, as you can see.  Every time it cleared, you could see the next “shower” heading our way.  My gilet went back on at the top of Porlock and stayed on – wet in the wind = cold!

See that thing behind Gary?  That’s another “shower”.  Or the same one, just following us around!

I really loved the riding.  There were a couple of kicker hills, some swoopy bits, some nasty descending because of the wet, a real mix.  But that’s not the point.  What is is that it was all new to me, and even in that weather, the views were lovely.  New to me, without being a sportive.  It felt like a mini cycling holiday.  We did some of the Exmoor Beast route, albeit in reverse, so it was good practice too!

Today was nice weather for…

I didn’t realise how cold and wet I was until I got back to Gaz’s house, after a long fast straight flying stretch to round things off which is how all rides should end.  I changed into dry clothes, and realised I could probably wring out my cycling kit!  Nice…;)  Even with that, it was an oddly enjoyable morning – and many thanks to my tour guide for sorting the route.  He’s a lucky man, with all that on his doorstep :).

Cycling time: 2:09:29 hrs
Distance: 24.64  miles
Avs: 11.4 mph.
ODO: 362.10 miles

 So, who’s coming to do the Exmoor Beast with us in October then?  As many people as possible, a posse, a peloton..please? 🙂

On Tuesday I spent another couple of hours with the Cinelli’s midwife, who was doubling up as health visitor and checking that my new baby was doing well.  Several tweaks and adjustments were made…  The extra spacers went into the brakehoods.  (I’d forgotten what those are called and just found this great picture to tell me – gotta love Google, right?).  Cables and other things were tightened and checked over.  The rims of the front wheel got a light sand papering and the front brake was toed in a bit.  Nothing drastic all round really, mostly just making sure it was all running smoothly 200 miles in.  A first service, as it were.

Since I’m doing the rather challenging Etape Cymru on Sunday I went out for a ride this morning just to make sure that everything was working ok.  Nothing special, just the usual fairly flat training loop done, unusually, in what passes for sunshine around here!  It was a bit nippy initially, but I warmed up and so did the day.  I’m not going to give you a blow by blow account of the ride today, you can have fragmented oddments of stream of consciousness stuff instead…

My HBB jersey is a good thing in several ways.  It’s a little more loose fitting than some of my other jerseys which, as us girls do, if you’re having a fat day, is a good thing.  Since MaxiMe made pasta last night that accidentally involved a most evil and malicious vegetable stock cube, comfort was very important today.  Yes, I know, stock cubes are small.  They may be small but they’re concentrated, and contain onion, garlic, and leek amongst other things.  And we’ve already established that garlic and I have had an acrimonious and permanent split.  Small but deadly therefore!

But that’s not the only reason the jersey is good.  You see it’s pink.  Very pink.  You see that right?  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in sweeping generalisation fashion, a great many drivers out there don’t like cyclists.  But…  Look, there’s a bl**dy cyclist.  Ah, but it’s a cyclist wearing pink.  It must be a girl.  Ah…well that’s different then…  I had several drivers today pull over to let me past.  And reverse to let me past.  And one of them was driving a white van!  As I’ve said before, I wish the stereotype about white van drivers wasn’t true but the number of times they’ve proved that it is…*grrrr*!  Unless they you’re a female cyclist wearing pink, of course 😉

While I’m at it, I quite like the pockets – they seem to come further around the sides than some jerseys so the myriad contents of my pockets are more accessible, including my camera.  Oh, and it’s pink and white.  With the emphasis being on the white.  Which goes to show it washes well since keeping things white is something I am seriously bad at!

The bike is good for seeing things.  For not flying past everything.  For stopping when you want to…although not too often because that would kind of defeat the purpose of riding.

This is at Max Mills Farm, near Winscombe.  I’ve been meaning to photograph it for ages and since it was just me and I could stop when I wanted, today I did.  So was there more than one mill?  Did it belong to Max?  Or was it case of “Max mills corn for living…”?  On the right hand side before you get here there is the most amazing derelict almost stately home.  It looks like it once had a big walled garden too, with crumbling overgrown walls near the road, and I wonder what happened to it all, and who it belongs to now.  Who lived there?  Where did they go?  It makes me feel all Secret Garden, like I should sneak in and discover it…but the entrance roads are so overgrown I’d need a machete, and there certainly isn’t room in my pockets for one of those.  Besides, travelling equipped, even if only really to hack down brambles, is probably frowned upon.

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It wouldn’t be a cycling blog without a sign right?  I’d hate to let you down, fail to be predictable, etc.  It’s very important to live up to expectations *grin*.

Maybe if these drivers had been paying attention to the sign, and the road, and each other, this wouldn’t have happened?  And if, out of boredom or curiosity or some misguided sense of obligation, you’ve actually clicked on that link and read the article and seen the reference to the Brick House Sluice…this be it.

It’s right next to the sign you see.  It all makes sense eventually, you just have to bear with me :).

It was quite a hard ride.  There seemed to be quite a lot of wind around in the quite definitely the wrong direction quite a lot of the time.  It was just me.  It was quite flat, so lacking a bit of distractionary challenge.  My left knee was twingeing a bit.  I was probably tired – yesterday was for various reasons an exceptionally long day and getting out of bed and on to the bike was hard work in itself!  I was probably pushing it harder than I should have been.  I guess my mojo was a little missing.  But it felt fast, and I guess it was fairly.  The bike loves fast.  It’s not keen on pootling.  In fact I think it would like to go much faster.  It’s only limited by me and my legs, I think I’m holding it back!  It’s a bit like a thoroughbred horse being lumbered with with a teletubby for a jockey *grin*.  Still, all the tweaks seemed to have worked.  I didn’t really have much cause to check the brakes out, but having the brake levers that bit nearer made a surprisingly big difference.  I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for Sunday…*gulp*

For those of you who don’t live in the country and don’t see as many of these as me, here’s a picture of a big red tractor to round things off for you.

Cycling time: 1:52:37 hrs
Distance: 33.20  miles
Avs: 17.7 mph.
ODO: 231.47 miles

The next few days are going to be hard.  Tomorrow is Howie‘s funeral which will be hard mentally.  The Etape Cymru will be hard physically and possibly mentally too.  But then nobody said life was easy, now did they?  I should HTFU ;).

RIP Howie.  Definitely a Lost Boy :(.

Being as how a weekend without a sportive is like bread without butter…presumably that would be gluten free bread without lactose free butter…something had to be done.  Gary mentioned that he’d be free Saturday morning or Sunday.  Due to my aversion to tents, damp fields, and walking to what passes for a toilet in the middle of the night, I had the house to myself for the weekend while the rest of the clan were off motorracing, so I didn’t even need to earn brownie points in order to spend hours away from home.  Sunday seemed like the best option to me.  Right then…  I set Gary on the job and, even though it’s his first wedding anniversary today, he created us a 66 mile route.  I’m betting Mrs G will quite rightly be exacting her revenge (aka reward) shortly!  *grin*.  He even agreed to a 10:00am start.  Well, if I was going to be home alone, I might as well enjoy a lie-in, right?  That all decided, we broadcast our plans to the ACG, and garnered ourselves an extra two ride partners – Martyn and Steve.  Steve said “I’ll be there” which, since he appears to have an aversion to the Jackson 5, presumably made us the Four Tops? 😉

When consciousness dawned this morning, I moved.  As you do.  And OW!  OMG!  Not sure what I’ve done, but somewhere inside my back on the left hand side somewhere was , and is, proper unhappy.  Every time I moved..ow!  Inadvertently look over my shoulder or twist my neck?  Ow enough to make me yelp!  Or whimper at the very least.  This did not bode well for our ride.  Well the paracetamol wasn’t really cutting it, and I kinda like to be able to look behind me to see what’s coming up from there.  I did warn Gary and Martyn – the first two to arrive – that they might have to do the looking out for me!  At least the riding position is a fairly set one – quite well supported as these things go.  And yes, looking over my shoulder remained a bad idea, so mostly I just did as little of that as possible.  That’s what cameras are for, right?

Gary, as we’ve already established, is fast.  So is Martyn.  And so is Steve!  Clearly we weren’t going to be hanging around…and I was a little worried I was going to be sucking wheels all day.  And heading off across the Levels didn’t do anything to allay my fears…  Gary swore he was trying to keep it reined in, and that the speed we were doing wasn’t his fault…but I’m wasn’t convinced then and I’m not convinced now! 😉

Into every flat a little hill must fall.  First off the climb up through Shapwick to the main road ridge, which isn’t too challenging.  We had a quick break at the top so I could stash my rather too warm Maratona gilet in my saddle bag, where I discovered my Cyclosport gilet already lurking.  I clearly wasn’t thinking straight this morning – I had to loop back to put bottles on my bike before even reached the Square first thing.  Doh!

The great thing about being up here is the descent to come, down Pedwell Hill, which came completely unencumbered by buses today – always a bonus.  I did discover that one of my brakes was squealing like a bird of prey on the way down, which apart from making me let go of the brakes and descend faster, is not a good thing.  Methinks I’ll be checking out the braking again especially as there was a degree of lurch going on descending one of the hills later in the ride.  I’m pretty sure I’ve established it’s the front brake though, so that’s progress right?

From there, it was time for High Ham Hill again which was as ever.  I brought up the rear, cos I’m good like that.  Services to the community and all that.  I wish I could say the new bike has made me faster…:(  I swear the gearing isn’t quite as favourable even though I’ve been assured it’s exactly the same bottom gear as on the Cube.  My legs disagree…and it’s making hills above a certain gradient more of a slog than they need to be.  I’m a high cadence low gear girl, and this gear?  Not quite low enough.  Still once up there I was back on one of my favourite stretches of road that heads South over the top.  Long, wide, bendy but not wiggly, with an element of negative gradient.  Fast is totally doable and was totally done 🙂  The views were pretty good too…

Gary’s route had us turning left for Pitney before hitting the main road.   I knew this, having paid a modicum of attention to the route beforehand, but he went straight on and had to be hollered back.  Turns out his Garmin had flooped a bit.  That’s what comes of not following the signs, right? 😉

Our coffee stop was in Somerton at the Buttercross Tearooms, after a most glorious finishing straight into the town.  I must learn to curb my juvenile sprinting tendencies.  After all, it’s not that I’m actually any good at it, I just enjoy it!  Maybe my legs could smell the caffeine?  Well if crickets can hear through their knees I reserve the right to smell through mine *grin*.

Considering the name of our café, one can only assume that the market cross opposite it is not in fact your average market cross, but is instead a Buttercross.  Whatever that is.  It sounds like something involving a hot cross bun with lots of butter on it…but that could just be me hankering after things I can’t have, even if it’s not particularly seasonal.

They did do a nice line in exceedingly tempting looking cakes, if not hot cross buns.  Considering my somewhat unusual degree of disorganisation this morning I had completely forgotten to pack anything to eat, and doing 66 miles without food, whilst also missing lunch, is possibly not advisable.  Luckily for me they did an Orange and Almond cake that was gluten free.  Almond is most definitely not my favourite flavour – I hate commercially made marzipan, or battenburg cake – but it turned out to be very yummy, very moist, and very safe.  Good cake, good coffee – get in!

However we weren’t even half way through our ride, and there were yet many miles to be done.  As is ever the case, there were less photos on the way back.  Partially because it was chilly when we set off so I put my Cyclosport (much lighter) gilet on, and getting my camera out from under there is frequently more trouble than it’s worth.  Partially because I was trying to keep up!  Clearly there was a reason I left that gilet in there though…clever me ;).

There was a long flat straight stretch.  There were hilly bits.  There was the Pilgrim’s Rest at Lovington, which had the most pretentious chalk boards outside.  “Culinary Heights”….”Scaled Here”.  I mean, really?!  Isn’t that up to me to judge?  And it was also painted a particularly unattractive shade of dark Volvo green.  We know this, because a Volvo in precisely that shade went past Steve and I with rather more attitude than was necessary shortly afterwards, just as we were discussing said pub.  Very serendipitous.  Or something.

Somewhere along the way from where we were to where we were going I caught Martyn milking it again *grin*.  Him and Gary are as relentless as each other, though by the end of the ride Martyn was totally done for, so maybe a little pacing of energy expenditure is in order? 😉  The same cannot be said for Gary but, as we all know by now, he’s a robot!

One last photo before the dash from Wedmore home.  I think maybe they were milking it too?  *grin*.  I’m not sure where the flags and gold medals come in, though I’m guessing there some sort of Olympic/Paralympic thing going on there.  Maybe milk is the drink of champions?

Martyn having, as I said, lost it just a little by now, we took it easy on the way back from here.  There was a little drizzle, but having had a little blue sky too, it seemed only fair.  It’s an equitable life…  Steve peeled off after Wedmore, homeward bound, and we three remaining were back in the Square by around 2:30pm, having done this.

Cycling time: 3:52:15 hrs
Distance: 66.57  miles
Avs: 17.2 mph.
ODO: 198.27 miles

Fast, if not furious.  I should have got this blog up yesterday, but I have the most insanely busy week, all building up to Sunday’s Etape Cymru which will not be flat, nor fast.  *gulp*.  Wish me luck?  Tomorrow I’m getting the bike checked over, tweaked, tightened, and adjusted, now that it’s done a couple of hundred mile.  Hopefully it, and I, will be ready by then…

Ok, that’s the third time in three rides that I’ve been put firmly back in my place.  In case you were wondering, you can all stop it now!  First off the ACG leaves me bringing up the rear, then Gary has me wheel sucking for all I’m worth, and today I went out with the newly wed Mr and Mrs Mim.  Or Mim and Steve to be more personal about it.  Keeping up with Mim is frequently bad enough, but keeping up with the pair of ’em?  Come on, give me a break!

Ok, so the lycra in view has been different each time, and today I tried to take consolation from the lovely views and the pretty good, if a little nippy, weather.  However I wasn’t in the best of moods to start with, and feeling like the tortoise slogging along after the hare(s) didn’t do a lot for my joie de vivre.  I’d maybe have stood half a chance of putting up a good show if we were on the flat, but t’was not to be.  Up past the Webbington.  Up that Bleadon Hill…

…and down Canada Combe which was wet, gritty, and nasty, and thus took all the fun out of my well-earnt descent.  Then up Burrington Combe, which I did no worse than usual, it just felt worse because I couldn’t keep up!  At least it meant I got to take yet another different photo from there, right?  Still, it’s not an Alp.  Or a Dolomite.  And there’s some of my favourite flat cycling to be had on the top once you get up there.  There’s also a stone circle, or two, which I’ve been meaning to check out since the first time I flew past them.  I’m none the wiser as to anything about them, but at least I have photographic proof this time!

We happened across a poor and unfortunate fellow cyclist with a new seat post clamp that was failing to clamp.  My shiny gold multi-tool got an outing, though I left it to the men to actually play with it, wouldn’t want to break a fingernail or anything ;).

Best was made of a bad job, we all got to feel very good Samaritanish, and he got to make plans to go back to his LBS and get the right size bit fitted!  Then we were back up on the bikes and heading across the fun straight top bit and then down Cheddar Gorge.  Again.  That’s 3 rides out of 4.  And my new bike is still making it easier 🙂  I can’t give you photos of the Gorge, for all the usual reasons, so here’s a couple from in the Caves on Monday instead.

Right.  Here’s what we did.  Which got me home again well in time for work again, and feeling considerably better, albeit only mentally.  Clearly I still have a long way to go physically…did I mention you can all stop pointing that out now?! ;).

Cycling time: 1:58:26 hrs
Distance: 31.68 miles
Avs: 16.0 mph.
ODO: 131.70 miles

Some people out there would like to know if our esteemed leader David Cameron is a man or a mouse.
Jason Segel wants to know if he’s a man or a muppet.
I want to know if Gary is a man or a machine!

Thanks to the joys of last minute social media communication I ended up going for a ride with him this morning.  Allegedly he’s lost his mojo.  Supposedly he was going to be taking it easy.  Hrrrumph.  Clearly we are not of one blood, he and I.

Yes, it was flat.  But that doesn’t entirely explain it.  Man, is he ever fast!  I kept up.  Just.  Mostly I sucked wheel.  I’d have taken a turn at the front if I was capable…but I wasn’t!  He’s relentless.  All that moves is his legs and all that hardy Northerner power just goes straight into making him go forward…at considerable speed!  Jealous, moi?! 😉

Today’s view mostly looked like this:

We’d done twenty miles.  We had, according to the route he sent out last night, about that to do again.  I had an hour to get back in.  In pointing this out I was suggesting that maybe we needed to find a more direct route home, or at least I did.  However it being due to be fairly flat Gary reckoned it was doable…  Apparently what I was actually suggesting was that we just go faster.  Right?  No!  So he speeded up!  Sped up?  Got faster!  I wasn’t aware faster existed!  *grin*.  At least the headwind had turned into a tailwind by now, so I had one less challenge to face…

Our route looked like this and we were back in the Square with 15 minutes to spare.  Impressive stuff, and I’d never have managed it on my own.  Look at that average speed!  I don’t think that’s a man missing his mojo, do you?  Remind me to think twice before doing that again! 😉

Cycling time: 2:01:27 hrs
Distance: 37.35 miles
Avs: 18.5 mph.
ODO: 100.02 miles

Somewhere out there GB is riding up silly hills.  On his shiny steed with fancy kit, which all put together probably cost considerably more than this, which would probably go up mountains faster 😉  It’s practically got his name on it! *grin*.

I’m feeling guilty about the lack of mileage going on this month.  It’s so hard to get decent riding time in during the summer holidays.  I’ve not been on the bike since Sunday, and although the ACG are due out on Saturday I didn’t fancy the idea of a week between rides.  The only way to ride today was to ride with MaxiMe which, to be honest, did not go stormingly well.

The plan was to do my original training loop, the one I started out on back in the day.  A bit longer than he’s used to, but not much, and not with much by way of climbing to stress him out.  He’s convinced he hates hills…dunno where he gets that from! 😉  We got off to a reasonable start, albeit slower than I would be on my own.  It was grey, mild, not very windy – a bit bland but nice enough.  The plan was to see if Sweets was open on the way, have coffee if it was, and then come the direct way back.  So much for plans.  We really need to get MaxiMe’s bike set up checked over, as well as his ride position.  Not only does he keep growing, so it probably all needs changing, but he also curves his back too much and ends up with a painful back after about 45 minutes, which basically puts a stop to him enjoying the ride at all and the average speed plummets like a stone.  He needs someone other than Mummy to tell him how he ought to be sitting since let’s face it, not listening to Mummy is virtually obligatory when you’re a teenager! *grin*.

His back pain had kicked in by Mark, but by now we were on the long straight to Sweets, so it was looking like we might get through it – cake being amazingly restorative or so I’m told.  Then, as we were negotiating the construction machinery doing things to the road and bridges there, MaxiMe’s front tyre went bang.   Marvellous.  I wonder if I can sue them for leaving crap all over the road?  Yes, I can change sort a puncture, but I’m neither good at it, nor fast!  The family we’d overtaken earlier stopped to check we were ok, and suitably equipped to cope, which was nice.  Unlike the construction guys who came past all the time, and even parked next to us to play with the dumper truck we were leaned up against.  Thanks guys – nice to see that chivalry is truly dead.  MaxiMe’s tyres are really tight and a strong hand, un-encumbered by long fingernails, would have been useful!  His rims are deeper than the spare inner tube he was carrying, which we didn’t discover as early as would have been nice, so the whole process was bloody, frustrating and time consuming.  Yes – bloody.  I’m not swearing, it’s just that somehow I took the top of a knuckle off and discovered myself dripping the red stuff.  Nice.  At least once we’d finally got the darn tyre back on and the new tube inflated it stayed that way!

20 minutes or so later we were back on our way again.  However it was a little too late for checking out Sweets now, and we’d chilled down a bit too far.  With that, a sense of humour failure on my behalf, and his back still causing copious complaints we just came back the straightest way I knew.  Looks happy doesn’t he?

So it was a vaguely unsatisfying ride really.  Probably better than no ride at all, and it saved me from going to the gym for the third day in a row…but I’m proper looking forward to Saturday now!

Cycling time: 1:44:54 hrs
Distance: 25.09 miles
Avs: 14.4 mph.
ODO: 15358 miles

Apparently I’m not the only one to have been using my camera lately.  Here’s what I found when I came to download today’s pictures.  Makes a change from bikes and lycra, right? 🙂

OK, I think it’s safe to say that it has not been a good week.  I didn’t know where to put this in here, or maybe whether or not to put it here at all.  But I’m going to.  It would be wrong not to.  Quite a lot of you will know this already, but that’s no reason for not saying it again.  My friend, and fellow Cyclosport rider/writer, Howie Johnson passed away on Tuesday 14th August.  The official Cyclosport announcment can be found here.  I’ve known him for years, since I used to meet him out and about riding for Cycling Plus, in his distinctive bumblebee kit – you really couldn’t miss him, nor fail to smile when you saw him.  We’d become pretty good friends over the years, at events, after events, riding together, writing together…  The last time I saw him in person was at the Mario Cipollini Gran Fondo.  I rode, he interviewed, we wrote.  It’s only thanks to his insistence that I have proof that I and the “great” man were there are the same time.  If I’d known it was going to be the last time…  But you never do, do you?  It was sad news, and I’m very sad.  Howie had a heart of gold and I’m going to miss him :(.

I wanted to ride with MaxiMe on Thursday.  Having not been able to ride on Wednesday I’d had to kick ar*e at the gym instead.  But on Thursday it rained.  Then it rained again.  Then it rained some more.  What with the cracking hangover that I had well and truly earned, in cathartic fashion, still hanging over my head, and not really feeling in the mood, the rain capped it all off nicely.  In fact I decided not to go to the gym either.  Some days you just have to…well…not.   Although those are few and far between, what with exercise being one of my chosen forms of medication.

I wanted to ride this morning.  But the wind was blowing, the rain was falling, and it looked like October out there.  From in here it looked miserable, and the thought of a couple of hours riding in that on my own was enough to make me (more) miserable.  My ride plan became a gym plan.  In the meantime I asked GB if he could ride tomorrow.  He couldn’t.  But…he suggested we meet up on his ride home this evening, and a new plan was born.  ‘Rah!  It’s a lot harder to bail on a plan when you’re not the only party involved, and that being the case, I knew I’d be riding this evening whatever the weather, and that I wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Which is why, around 5:45pm, I could be found slogging my way up Shipham Hill.  Yes, there are easier ways to Wrington.  But if I took one of those, I’d have known I’d wimped out on a day when I really didn’t need to, and that’s not allowed.  It wasn’t my fastest time up…it was my second fastest time which, considering that I could have tried harder, ain’t bad.  It proved that one layer was more than enough, that it was pretty warm out there, and that my legs were still working.  All warmed up and ready to go, I hurtled down to the Churchill crossroads, and then pootled my way through to Wrington at a slightly more leisurely pace, playing David Bailey as I went, to meet GB at 6:30pm, since I was, as ever, early.

I hung out on a corner in Wrington as arranged, doing a real bad impression of a teenager, awaiting GB’s arrival, and messing around with my camera.  Well, it was something to do.  I am blessed with an elegant sufficiency of kit at the moment, and deciding what to wear this evening was not easy.  I didn’t want to wear Cyclosport kit, not least because I’ll be wearing it on Sunday, but also because it cut a little too close to home.  I wanted to wear something cheerful, comfortable, yet also visible, what with it being evening and darker and rush hour and so on.  So this is what you got.

I’m particularly impressed by the fact the my gloves inadvertently matched my socks.  Such sartorial splendour.  GB arrived just I was finishing being a prat.  He was also early, which came as no surprise since we’re both good at building in contingency to our plans!  I’d forgotten he was doing it, but when he turned up I remembered…  In the reverse of the usual statement, since he already has the idea, he has recently gotten all the gear to go with it.  I’d call it shiny but nothing is shiny if you’re riding at the moment!

Time to stop admiring, and nattering, and get on the road.  With oddly amusing little whirring noises every time he made a big gear change *grin*.  The only way was up really, if we were ever to get home, and today that meant Burrington Combe which, and I know this may come as a surprise, I actually quite like.  Imagine my joy when the bottom of the Combe actually included goats?  Do you know how hard it is to take a photo of there that I haven’t already taken?  Fantastic! 🙂

And you’ll never guess what happened today.  Before I get carried away and make this sound like a far bigger deal than it actually is, I’d like to point out that GB has had a very tough week, lots of early starts, lots of work, and that he rode in this morning, and back out again to meet me.  But…*drum roll please*…  I beat him up Burrington Combe.  I did.  Honest!  In fact the man himself said I made it look effortless.  I’ll have you know it wasn’t!  *grin*.  Man that is so going in my little mental logbook of fabulous things people have said about me, for those dark days when none of them are true.  But to be honest it was just the way doing it my way went, and today my way was faster than his way.  As the rain started to pour, having failed to catch me, he took a break to put on the rain jacket that would ensure no more rain fell on us and to eat something, before meeting me at the top.

I got happily soaking wet in what I considered to be warm, while he wrapped up in what he considered to be cold – that’s just the way we roll :).  Which way to go next?  Hm….

We debated the merits of the various descents available for us before opting for Shipham Hill again – wider, quieter, and less bendy than the Gorge.  Oh, and it’s more fun too, even with the added degree of caution engendered by the inclement weather conditions.  Ooh get me, swallowed a dictionary! *grin*.  So here’s what we did.  And here’s Strava’s take.   Not a long ride.  A reasonably fast one considering the climbing.  But it was just what I needed.  To get some headspace, to see a friend, to reconnect with myself a bit.

Cycling time: 1:20:14 hrs
Distance: 20.29 miles
Avs: 15.2 mph.
ODO: 15231 miles

There were quite a few times today when my breath caught, when the tears threatened…but that’s one of the many things I love about the bike.  It takes you away and it gets you through.  Two-wheeled therapy.

RIP Howie.