Tag Archives: cycling

CicloCostaBlanca.com Part 2

Right then, time for Day 2. Which would be with the entire U23 RP Vision Racing team. As if the girls hadn’t been bad (good!) enough! So I was kinda apprehensive…never great for my PMA.

More breakfast, and thanks to now being familiar with the route, an easier ride back to the Meta Bike Cafe for coffee and faffing. It’s a nice ride really – flat, fairly fast, and once you get off the main road, nice and quiet too. And even on roads like that, the road surface is good! It’s a good way to warm up, but it wasn’t as sunny a day out there, and it was chillier and still breezy than the day before. I was wearing everything I could again, with the waterproof in the bag just in case…

Back outside their hotel, it took quite a while to herd young cats into order, but eventually various groups of riders were being briefed like pros whilst I stood on the side feeling very much like an amateur. Something that would be rapidly enforced as we headed off on today’s ride – with the goal being the big climb up to Tudons. Keeping us altogether was tricky even when the road didn’t go up, as we headed out through various towns with associated traffic, junctions, roundabouts, and the like. It also became obvious that today was going to be a painful day in more than one way… 🙁 I got dropped on a regular basis, though one or other of the guides always kept me company, as did Chris mostly, and got me back to the group as soon as possible. There were ups, even early on; less of a warm up section today, or at least it felt that way to me. Although maybe this was their warm up speed, which didn’t bode well… We stopped a few times to regroup, or sort mechanicals etc, and I was reminded to eat a bit, something I often forget to do on “short” rides which, in my head, is always anything that isn’t a sportive! Daft, I know…

After a lumpy loop near the coast we headed inland, over hill and dale, up more climbs, and then we were on to the big long climb of the day. Which quite predictably took me a very long time. I wasn’t actually feeling that bad, even having been left at the back to get on with it, as I actually quite like long slow wiggly climbs. I’m a huge fan of hairpins. I’m usually happier plodding up such things in my own way. Sadly it just happens to be far slower than everyone else’s way, but there wasn’t a lot I could do about that there and then. I was absolutely freezing though, which wasn’t getting any better as we got higher, and I was finding plodding harder work than usual . Somewhere on the way up, struggling somewhat, as my PMA faltered a bit, and the pain was kicking off, I was informed that I’d do better if I ate more than a few anchovies for dinner. Talk about a perfect storm…I have to admit to (fairly quietly) bursting into tears. Ever tried cycling up a mountain whilst trying not to cry? It doesn’t make breathing any easier for sure… Pull yourself together girl! After a while focussing on the road and the scenery and the bends and…well…anything…and the going up carried on, and I got it together, ish. Eventually we reached an unremarkable junction near the top somewhere, amongst tall trees, where guide Daniel and a couple of others were waiting. We could go left to go all the way up to the top, get higher, colder, take even longer, and slow the whole group down further as they’d have to wait for me, or go right and join those already down there at a café. Like, duh, bit of no brainer that! I put my waterproof on, being really cold now, and going downhill not being likely to make me any warmer. At least going down hill, which I did on my own a way behind Daniel and Chris, cheered me up. I do like downs, especially long sweepy curvy not too technical downs. Especially as I’d now gotten the hang of my lovely Ridley Fenix and wasn’t being overly cautious any more *grin*. Much fun 🙂

Sadly all good things come to an end. Mind you, the idea of sitting inside a warm café sounded good. And that’s were we stayed for a while, even though the sun was starting to shine outside. Quite a few of the girls had done the same as us, with the odd lad too, and the rest of the team completed the higher loop and joined us in dribs and drabs for coffee, hot chocolate (which I couldn’t figure out how to order) and food. I never did get warm though. Proper frozen to the core I was, even after two cups of strong black coffee with added sugar. And if you know me, you know that’s desperate; I don’t believe in polluting my caffeine with anything! There wasn’t anything I could eat though, and I figured sugar would be better than nothing! It may have been warmer inside, but it wasn’t warming me. Man I was cold! Apparently up at the top of Tudons there it had been 3C. Which explains it…none of us had been dressed for that! Having made a trip to the toilet, as you do, the mirror informed me I was even whiter than my waterproof which, believe me, isn’t a good look…

I must have warmed up a bit though, because when we went outside, into what was now sunshine, it was definitely colder, and I wasn’t looking forward to getting going in that again. Still, there was a friendly cat wandering down the street to talk too, which made me think of my daughter (she’s a cat whisperer), which made me smile, and cheered me a up a little more too. I’m pleased to say that the rest of the ride was essentially downhill, and getting warmer all the way. This is not to say that I removed any layers though! I just enjoyed the views, kept up with the group, who were mostly being a group, best I could, as we retraced our steps/pedals back to Albir Playa. Somehow recognising bits of the route made it easier, it helped me know where I was with regards to where I wanted to be, and knowing there wasn’t all that far to go then helped mentally. Even the ups there were didn’t seem so bad like that. Have I mentioned that cycling is mental lately? I’m fairly sure I demonstrated that today!

We were back at the hotel a little earlier today, just in time to catch the end of the lunch sitting, which meant that eating could be done, and possibly I could spare myself getting told off on a future occasion. And we weren’t going to have problems finding dinner either, as the RP Cycling Team very kindly invited us all to join them for their end of trip meal out. After a quiet afternoon washing kit, getting some sleep, getting the analgesia level up, and faffing for the following day, we all went out for pizza at a town down the road, with transport equally kindly organised for us by the Meta Bike Cafe team. Believe it or not, the restaurant had gluten free pizza! It could have been better…but it could most definitely have been worse 🙂 We all ate, chatted, laughed, and the team got debriefed with various riders awarded for their weeks performance end the like. It was a really nice night out – thanks guys! Food done, Tudons done 😉

CicloCostaBlanca.com Part 1

So, sometime last Autumn a msg popped up in Facebook, telling me I’d won a 5 day cycling training camp. Yeah right, I thought… But after a few exchanged messages, it turns out that was not an attempt to get my bank details, or a friend winding me up…it was in fact true. Cor blimey. 5 days for two in Spain, half board, including bike hire & guided rides. All I’d have to cover was flights and insurance. Well, even if I hadn’t enjoyed last year’s training camp so much, it’s not like I was going to turn it down, now was it? Even better, I had until April 2016 to take it, whatever dates I wanted!

And to cut a long story a little shorter, that’s Chris and I were in Bristol Airport on February 17th, heading off to what would hopefully be sunny and warm, unencumbered by bike boxes. How cool is that? Well, as it would turn out, slightly cooler, albeit slightly cooler than hoped for literally, but pretty cool nonetheless 😉

This fab price came courtesy of Ciclo Costa Blanca, which is run by Terrence Kerr from HQ at Meta Bike Cafe in Albir Playa which is just down the coast/road from Benidorm. They run cycling training camps, cycling breaks, help with bike hire, cycling holidays, in fact…cycling anything if you want to be over there, either with them, or independently. The accommodation part of our prize came courtesy of the Marconfort Essence in Benidorm, who are working on being a cycling friendly hotel. We were collected from the airport and taken there to check in and get settled, and Terry arrived later that afternoon in the support car, complete with the two shiny bikes that would be ours for a few days – 2 Ridley Fenixs. Nice. After a little while spent fitting our own saddles and pedals to them, plans were made for the next day, and Terry headed off. we took them downstairs to the secure bike storage room, which came complete with lockers, as well as bike stands, tools and the like. Ours weren’t the only bikes in there, which, from the clientele we’d already seen, came as a bit of a shock. Of which more later…

Right then. We had been thinking of going for a test ride, but it was getting late, it wouldn’t serve much purpose, and there were other things to do. Like having a beer, checking out the hotel, and checking out the beach that could be tantalising seen from the balcony between tower blocks… Since we were on a half-board basis and hadn’t taken advantage of that yet, we didn’t need to find food, just beer, because the best way to annoy your mates back home in a chilly wet miserable UK is to post photos of beer and tapas 😉 After a walk along the breezy bright beach, and around the older town bit to get our bearings, we found a little local corner place and ticked that box *grin*

Back at the hotel for dinner then. Which was all very nice; a large buffet of a whole variety of everything. The food was perfectly presentable but the whole thing was just slightly canteen, probably due to the pristine white slightly clinical decor. However nice it was, it didn’t really make me want to do it every day…although having free wine and beer on tap didn’t suck as a concept… 😉

Onwards to the more important stuff. After a pretty good night’s sleep, it was time to be up and faffing and fretting. Breakfast was better, it being a meal that just works better as a self-help buffet, and as we had places to be we were amongst the first down there. There was a whole heap of things on offer – fried stuff, cake, continental, you name it. I was just pleased to discover muesli and soya milk (not ideal but lactose free), so even with my bizarre requirements it was reassuring to know that I was going to be able to fuel every morning. As for the faffing, it being our first day, it was really hard to decide what to wear. It was sunny, but chilly, and a bit windy. Although we’d been advised that all we’d need for the trip was summer kit plus arm warmers and a gilet, at the last minute, I’d thrown my lightweight tights and a base layer into the bag, and I decided I’d rather be too warm than too cold. So, tights, base layer, s/s jersey, arm warmers, mitts, and gilet. The muset bag for the support car got my waterproof, over gloves, gels and the like. Have faffed with all that, there was then a degree of shenanigans with regards to getting the room key to open the garage door which meant that we were a little behind schedule by the time we finally hit the road.

Benidorm is a shortish flat ride from Meta Bike Cafe, which ended up being longer than planned as we didn’t know where we were going and were relying on a combo of instructions, phone maps, and road signs. Unfamiliar routes always seem to take forever…but as it turns out we got where we were supposed to be, were only marginally late, and we weren’t the last to arrive. Training camp season meant that today’s guided ride would see us joining the U23 RP Vision Racing Team (!!!). Just the girls today, like that’s supposed to suggest that it would be an easy ride! 😉 They were all staying at the ‘official’ hotel just down the road so once all the guides and support car were ready & loaded up (with our bag in), we headed off down there to mill around in the sunshine. Organising a group of U23 riders takes even longer than organising me 😉 Out of the wind outside the hotel, and having been riding, I was actually feeling a bit warm, and I was tempted to sneak off and get rid of my base layer, but I was persuaded that I could always do this later if necessary, so I didn’t.

Time to ride. And I don’t remember all the details, but thanks to Strava, I know it went something like this. Luckily the girls had various goals to achieve – warm up, practice lead outs, practice sprints, etc. Which also involved various stops for briefing, layer changes, and the like, thus meaning it wasn’t a constant slog trying to keep up. It took most of the ride to get the hang of the bike. It fitted me just fine, was nice and light, and handled well, but with the brakes the wrong war around I was a bit cautious, and worried what would happen if I got it wrong in extremes… We stuck together (mostly!) on the flats, when they weren’t doing drills, and climbing up the hills (of which there was quite a lot) were an every girl for themselves thing, which meant I could plod up them my way, enjoy the stunning views, and wish we had climbs like this back home.

On the upside, even among this lot, as I got used to the bike, I was still amongst the very fastest down hill – which assuaged the slightly depressed ego somewhat 😉 I was glad to have kept my kit as it was as it remained distinctly chilly, even in the sun, thanks to the wind. And the top of things was even cooler than the bottom. On the way back there was a sheltered coffee stop where I could indulge my fizzy orange habit, and the very small, very skinny, girls could descend on large slices of chocolate cake like a venue of very happy vultures! Still, they’d more than earnt it, especially being many days into their week, and it was amusing to watch cake dematerialise before your eyes…

Back to the hotel, a little too late for lunch. Luckily both of us had carried various food stuff with us, not that I felt like eating mine. I don’t really do eating. We did find time for a quick pint in the hotel bar, with snack food, still in kit, watching the residents take advantage of the all-inclusive bar, playing cards, knitting, and so on. Those that weren’t permanently installed by the pool and outside bar that is. Which definitely engendered an interior slightly smug superior vibe …we’d been out and seen the world and exercised and been fit and healthy and everything. Go us! After a shower, more faffing and a nap, it was time to head out in search of a more appetising dinner, which didn’t go all that well. Places that were empty, places that were not appealing, places that turned out not to do food at all. It’s just possible we were too fussy…. Nice though it was wandering the streets of an out of season Benidorm, food really was a priority. Getting a little desperate, we headed back towards the hotel and found a tapas place not far from there that seemed to have locals eating in it, which is always a good sign.

Oddly for somewhere that is flooded by tourists every year, the local places don’t speak much English at all, and I found myself using, and remembering, more of my Spanish than I thought I would/could. I guess it’s probably because your typical British tourist a) never leaves their all-inclusive hotel and b) if/when they do, they end up at one of the more British places; pubs, bars, cafes…egg ‘n chips anyone? Our little tapas bar was currently feeding lots of Spanish folk, off a menu that I had to guess at. It was a bit hit and miss. Various ham, cheese, and bread things worked out well, as did the marinaded anchovies (I love those), but the local speciality octopus dish was less successful. All reasonable cycling fodder if you can load up on bread to go with it, less so otherwise…but since I wasn’t hungry (I rarely am), I was yet to be aware that wasn’t ideal. Food had been required, food had been found, job done.

The Tour of Pembrokeshire 2016 Prologue

Right then, where was I? Well, certainly not riding the bike as much as I’d like to be. It finally got cold for a bit there, so the risk of ice was rather a deterrent. And there’s been other rubbish weather, and other factors. Not the least of which being that I’d ended up with my head stuck in that place where you’re convinced you’re just crap at the whole riding thing. Again.

So I was somewhat apprehensive about dragging my arse all the way over to Newport to do this year’s Tour of Pembrokeshire Prologue on Friday 22nd January. That’s the Newport in Pembrokeshire 3.5 hours away, not the one just over the water by the way. Not only is it a bl**dy long drive, it’s also seriously hilly over there, my form had been rubbish, the weather had been horrible and the forecast was dubious… Let’s face it, it did not look like being a whole heap of fun!

I went anyway. It’s what I do. I got up at stupid o-clock, in the pitch black and went west. A longer than planned drive there, through Storm Whatever, in torrential rain and scary winds, did not perk me up any. Apparently my little car can swim! Negotiating my first proper flood ever, I over-did the speed, under-estimated the bow wave, and very briefly had water over the bonnet…oops! I made it through, but after all of that, I was seriously wondering if I would be riding the bike at all. Maybe I could just turn up, partake of the sociable elements of the event, and come home again…?

However as I got much closer to my final destination the weather started to clear, finally ending up behind me, and Pembrokeshire started to look much more attractive. Day had arrived, the skies had cleared, and by the time I arrived at “restaurant with rooms” Llys Meddyg, which was both HQ for the event and my home for the night, it was bright, dry, and rather surprisingly considering the freezing temperatures early in the week – it was warm! Well, by comparison anyway. How does 14°C sound? Sounds good, right? 🙂

Although I was staying at the hotel, its car park was chokka, there was, as you might say, no room at the inn. I blocked a whole heap of people in, unloaded the car into the lobby, and then parked up across the road and got the bike sorted. My recently fitted mudguards had survived the journey, and I managed to get the front wheel back on and all chafe free fairly easily. Leaving the bike outside the hotel I was allowed to get into my room earlier than usual check in and so could faff a bit. Having travelled down in kit there wasn’t too much to do, but considering how warm it was, I decided the base layer had to come off as I was baking already! Back downstairs riders were gathering, milling around, drinking coffee and generally getting in each other’s way going to and fro. I signed the relevant sheet of paper and picked up my emergency map, but passed on the coffee. Well, there wasn’t going to be a coffee stop en route and I didn’t want to need one, if you see what I mean! 😉

comparing Van Nicholas

The time came for us all to gather outside rather than in. There were around 40 of us, about to be split into three groups on two routes. The longer route – c. 54 miles – would have a faster group and a slower group. The shorter route – c. 24 miles – would be just one group. Shorter, slower, sociable. As you’ll have gathered by now, my PMA was pretty much AWOL, so it was definitely going to be the latter group for me! Even with the sun shining, and the unseasonable warmth I decided I’d be better off taking it easy and enjoying it, than risking the longer route. I know 24 miles is nothing, and sounds pathetic. I know 54 miles really isn’t that far either. However, as I mentioned earlier, Pembrokeshire is NOT flat. Which is by way of being a serious understatement. I’ve done the Tour proper a few times, and the Prologue a couple, and I know that 54 miles around here is easily equivalent to 100 miles somewhere flat! So…discretion, valour, limits, etc…

Joshua Fiddy's briefing

Time for a briefing from Joshua Fiddy, one of the Tour of Pembrokeshire organisers, who welcomed everyone and gave us an introduction to the ride. Each group would have two of the team with them which, in our case, would include Peter, previously chief organiser of the Tour of Pembrokeshire. There would be, and was, a support vehicle out en route with us in case of punctures, mechanicals or other problems, staffed by staff from Pembrokeshire bikes in Narbeth. All very supportive, all very sportive 😉

We were set off in shifts. Short slow, slow long, fast long; so as to keep the groups all a bit closer together overall than would happen otherwise. Off we went into the as gorgeous as ever Pembrokeshire countryside. It was just so lovely to be cycling somewhere different, and to be feeling warm! Dry overhead, if not under wheel. After the first climb I realised I was also feeling relatively on form, and not only was I not getting left behind I was actually near the front of our group and feeling pretty good. ‘Rah!

Being familiar with the general route, I knew roughly what I was in for for a while at least, and settled into it. In no particular order… The hairpins and the ensuing slog upwards at Moylegrove went up and on for just as long as ever, although it didn’t feel like quite as much hard work as sometimes. The wiggly descent down to the sea, with stunning views, made my spirits lift and my face smile, as usual. A descent that quite a few people missed as the left turn for that particular diversion came amidst another descent and what with the groups getting spread out and somewhat muddled up, well..if you didn’t know the turning was there…you just went flying past. I’m glad I didn’t 🙂 The descent to Poppit Sands was much fun, and I still think it’s an adorable name for a place, don’t you poppet? All in all, even with all the ups, I was having a good time 🙂

Poppit Sands

It has to be said that, as you may have gathered, the groups did not stay together. What with missed turns, varying abilities, and the odd bit of getting lost even when with a leader, things went a bit to pot. One such error led to us going up a most impressive, and new to me, hill out of St Dogmaels, which was steep and long and, very very oddly, which I loved! I didn’t want to turn around and go back and see if we’d gone the wrong way. I just wanted to keep going on up it and see if it was doable. Hello crawler gear 🙂 And it was totally doable, and I totally did it, and once t’were done, there turned out to be just three of us left when we gathered at the top! The support vehicle stopped to chat briefly, and assured us we were on track…which would only turn out to prove that they were a little lost too! Still, the other lady in our three knew the area, I soon recognised some familiar tarmac, and with her help and some guess work we were back on track in no time. Bae_hawk_t1_xx245_inflight_arp

And thus it remained for the remainder of the ride. Three of us, with a vague idea of where we were, a map that turned out to be barely legible and therefore not a lot of use, and a lady who knew better, and who, come hell or high water or, in one case another massive flood that we had to ride through, would get us back to base. Which she did. And even somewhat lost, and slogging back into a head wind, it was still lovely. Warm, sunny, chatty… There were two fighter trainer planes, Hawks I think, hurtling around the sky Top Gun style, making a tremendous noise and (I reckon) having even more fun than I was. Yet another reason for me to *grin*.

Some more ups, some more downs, and then we were back on the swoopy main road to Newport, and I let rip for a little while, having been taking it easy all morning, just for the fun of it…I do like to hurtle sometimes 🙂 It was a ride that did wonders to revive my PMA and unexpectedly was just what I needed. It was so nice to be enjoyably reminded that I can ride a bike, I can go up hills, and that riding a bike is fun 🙂

We three, we happy three, were the first back to Llys Meddg, unsurprisingly. With our lunch not due until mid afternoon, at 3pm, this left me with plenty of time to stash the bike away, have a lovely long shower, and chill out in lazy be-robed fashion in my room for a while. Bliss 🙂 By the time 3pm rolled around, a lot more of us were back, but by no means all, and there was a steady drip feed of returning riders as the afternoon progressed. Lunch turned out to be, in Peter’s judgement at least, the “best shepherd’s pie he’s ever eaten”. I don’t know if I’d go that far, but then I’m no shepherd’s pie connoisseur. It was pretty good though, and the sticky toffee pudding with cream afterwards was more than pretty good, it was fantastic! Presumably that’s why it’s an award-winning restaurant? I’m not sure I’d entirely earned such gratuitous calorific intake, but hey, it would have been rude not to…

There was a lot of the usual cycling banter over food, and drinks afterwards, and gradually riders peeled away one by one to head for homes. I on the other hand was staying over, so Peter and I took a trip to see the new venue for the 2016 Tour of Pembrokeshire, at Crug Glas, a little way out of St David’s. As we left, the last of the riders was just rolling in… Anyway, back to the new venue. Not only is this a (having stayed there before) very superior boutique country house hotel in scenic grounds, but it now has a new purpose built/converted barn affair, for weddings, events, and as it turns out, sportives. It’s very nice, and very swish. The new venue means that everything can now be all in one place – free parking, registration, start/finish, food afterwards…the works, which has to be an improvement. There’s even a bar…

And that’s not the only change to the event. The three routes – 50, 75 & 100 miles – have been tweaked for 2016, to make them flow better apparently which, having done the Tour several times before, I’m quite excited about, because when I’m back there in April, I’ll get to try them out and discover some new roads. Not that this will make 100 miles, and over 10,000 feet of climbing, any the easier mind. But after the Prologue, I can honestly say I’m looking forward to it, even though it’s gonna hurt! I have been quoted in various places as saying that the Tour of Pembrokeshire is a “must-do event” and I really do think it is. Brilliantly well organised, stunning scenery, and a range of challenging routes. What more do you want? See you on April 23rd. Go on, sign up, you know you want to 🙂

Cycling time: 2:00
Distance: 23.2 miles
Avs: 11.6 miles
ODO: 17830 miles

Wiggle Bitter Beast 2015

Right then. Time for the final sportive of the season – the Wiggle Bitter Beast Sportive. Which I’d really been looking forward to, oddly, because it’s a part of the world I really like, and cycling around the Jurassic Coast seemed like a pretty good way to round off the season. However as the weekend drew near, so did Storm Barney and although it was due to have blown over by then, and yes I did do that on purpose, there were still some pretty impressive winds due to be blowing around on the day.

Hm. I hate wind. Which I’m sure I’ve mentioned before. And with 40-50mph winds it’s not just that I don’t like them, they can actually be dangerous. But I wanted to do it. But 2 hours is a long way to go to then be miserable for 70 miles. But I hate bailing. And then my work threw an extra spanner in the works. Having been doing the social media for the Cairo-Cape Town world record bike race attempt for the previous few weeks, it turned out that the team were now due to arrive in Cape Town, and break that record, somewhere around 4-5pm on that Sunday. Their time. Which would be 2-3pm our time. And I really needed to be home or at the very least on-line for that, to keep the world updated, follow them in, and spread the word afterwards. Quite important really. No point doing the job and then missing that bit!

To cut a long and clearly not that exciting story short, after a little encouragement from others, I made a decision. I’d do it. I’d get up at stupid o’clock. Drive to Bovington Tank Museum. Do the shorter 40 mile route. Drive back, and be home in time to get to work. OK, so that all seems like a bit much to just do 40 miles but, as I said, I hate bailing, I wanted to do it, and more than that, since I’d been given a place so as to review it, I really felt like I should do that. Yep, I’m still pretty conscientious 🙂

Which brings me to HQ, at Bovington Tank Museum, on a very windy, chilly, grey and slightly damp Sunday morning. I was amongst the first arriving, having aimed to be so, with my usual “sooner started, sooner finished” thing going on, and was marshalled to park in the museum car park. I was sort of midway between the start line and the main museum building, neither of which were far away. Time to register before faffing then. Which I quite enjoyed. Well, registering for a sportive doesn’t usually involve quite so many tanks, and it was quite nice to get a peek at them all without having to pay. As eldest has just done his EPQ on how tanks developed as a result of and through the course of World War II, it turns out I’ve recently had quite a lot to do with tanks, and having seen the place for myself now, we’ll definitely be going back next year to pay to visit it properly. Tanks are cool, right? 🙂

Not only did I get to look at tanks, but registration was also inside, warm, dry, and had plenty of facilities. And it was also easy. Sign up, get a map, bike number, three cable ties, and the essential helmet timing chip. No queue. Unlike the Gents. But not the Ladies. Result 🙂 There’s always a perverse pleasure to be be taken from walking past their queue… Schadenfreude?

All that being done, t’were time to get back to the car, layer up, load the bike up, and head for the Start line. Being amongst the first at a smallish event where I imagine the no-show rate was fairly high too, thanks again to Barney, there were only a few of us waiting to be briefed, so it didn’t take long, and all of five minutes later I was off.

To be fair, although yes, it was bl**dy windy out there, it wasn’t quite as bad as I’d worried it might be. We were starting in the top and middle of a loop so…it goes something like this. Out into the wind for a bit. Down with side winds. Along with the wind behind. Up with side winds. Back into the wind to the Finish. Well, ish. What with there being quite a lot of trees around, there was more shelter than I was expecting. Still, it was bl**dy hard work quite a lot of the time. I have to say I wasn’t really feeling it. I’d definitely felt better on the bike. As Alan might put it, I didn’t have any zing. But since I knew I only had 40 miles to do, it wasn’t really a problem and my PMA remained relatively intact.

At least while slogging along there were thatched cottages and churches and villages and things to look at. And colourful autumn leaves. Well ok, a lot of them were on the road rather than on the trees, but hey, they were still pretty. Quite a lot of the land around there is military owned and not developed, and a lot of it also seems to be forestry, which keeps it feeling lovely and peaceful and rural. There are tank tracks, tank ranges, and military camps all over the place, all of which made the Tank Museum the perfectly logical HQ I think. The military land also came complete with red flags flying, warning that today trespassing on that land would be even less of a good idea than usual 😉

I’m was pleased to discover that there wasn’t too much climbing involved to make life even harder. I know there are some nasty hills around there, but every time we got near one of those that I vaguely remember, with my heart sinking, we’d end up not going up it and going in a different direction. This is not to say it was completely flat though, there were some ups, even the odd steepish one. The worst climb I think was the long drag down south, up to the coast. It went on for miles. Literally; it didn’t just feel like it did! Still if you’re going to get views, you have to go up, right? Sometimes up there you could even see the sea! OK, so I didn’t get to be by the beach this time around, but the sight of the sun breaking through the clouds and over the sea, if not over me, was well worth it. And after however long slogging up there, the lovely descent into West Lulworth, which I realised was coming about half way up the hill, was a joy 🙂

West Lulworth, about 26 miles in, was also where the food stop was. Marshalls were trying to slow arriving riders down, and there was a degree of chaos with riders deciding what to do, going in, coming out… Since I was feeling fine, and only doing the short route, I decided I really didn’t need to waste time, or intake food/drink (I travelled equipped as ever), so I just wiggled around them all and kept going. It being a Wiggle event I imagine it was as well stocked as ever though, they’ve had enough experience by now!

What goes down must go up sadly, and it was quite a long steepish climb back up from there. However this I knew, having done it before, which always makes up easier to deal with, and I just engaged crawler gear and got on with it. The wind was now essentially behind me and I won’t pretend it didn’t help push me up there a bit too. Sometimes wind is ok 😉 Having saluted the gate guardian tanks at Lulworth Camp near the top, and put the climb likewise behind me, the wind was more than ok for a while after that too. Wheee…..! Who’s going to turn down a few miles of sort of down/flat with a storm behind you? Not me 🙂

Time for the route split then. On another day I’d have loved to do the long route. Having looked at it beforehand I had noticed however that it didn’t include my favourite road here – the long climb up the coast past the tank target ranges, and I had half considered doing it anyway just for fun. It would have been the more logical way to go for the long route too…so I had been a bit bemused as to why it wasn’t en route…but the big red flags, and a road closed sign, explained why it wasn’t included. It also meant that I wasn’t going to be doing it for fun today either. Ah well, maybe another time? Waving a slightly regretful farewell to the road ahead, where Corfe Castle and Swanage beckoned, I took the left turn, turned tail, and headed back.

The return leg wasn’t quite so much fun, putting me gradually back into the wind. There were some interesting wiggles to get around main roads and junctions, and after hurtling off one big roundabout to get away from the traffic I missed the “turn right almost instantly” sign and nearly ended up in a military camp…though I’m thinking the armed guard and massive security gate might have prevented that from actually happening! The small bit of cycle path not long after, which would normally annoy me, took in a very pretty bridge, river, and small country pile, which placated me nicely 😉 Back to the road, and not so long after that I was being welcomed back to HQ by big tanks, and riding under the Finish arch.

After owning up to my Short route choice, I was presented with various goodies and a Wiggle Finishers t-shirt. I caused some consternation by asking for it in Large. “What, really?” Which I cleared up by explaining it would end up on eldest not me. At least they didn’t just look at me and go “yeah, no kidding” 😉 *grin*. And there you have it; Wiggle Bitter Beast done. And, as it turns out, even though it felt like hard work, and not stopping probably helped, I got me a Gold time! Woohoo! I’ve added it to my list of events to go back and do next year, to do the long route – but there’ll be no gold for that I bet 😉

I took myself back to the car for a quick change, and a quick trip to HQ to powder my nose, and then the not so quick 2 hour drive back home. I didn’t have time to hang around and besides, I have a new sportive tactic now too – pre-load the car with fizzy orange so I’ve always got some to drink afterwards, so I didn’t need to spend time finding some. Remind me about that next season? 🙂

You’ll be pleased to hear I got back home in time. As did the CAROCAP team, albeit a few hours later than planned – the wind did for them too! They did what they planned to do, I did what I planned to. I got a ride in, I (finally!) reviewed it, and I was home in time to spend the rest of the afternoon/evening sat on the sofa, on Facebook and Twitter, live posting the team in and playing a very tiny part in their amazing record. They cycled from Cairo to Cape Town in 38 days + some hours, beating the previous record by around 3 days. Which puts 40 miles around the Jurassic Coast well and truly into perspective, doesn’t it? *grin*.

Cycling time: 2:37
Distance: 38.6 miles
Avg: 14.7 mph
ODO: 11642.7 miles

Give pain a rain check

So this year’s sportive season is over. And yes, I’ll write about that sportive in due course as usual, that being what I do, even if it sometimes takes me a while to get around to it.

But in the meantime…

Another season done. One amazing training camp followed by 18 sportives of varying length and varying levels of form and performance. It’s also been my 11th year of cycling, having started out in 2005, and I’ve been doing the many sportives thing for around seven years now. Right now it doesn’t feel like a many splendored thing though. I’m not sure I can face another year of doing the same thing over and over, on my own, and not being good enough. Although I’m well aware that that is…well, good enough for what? For who? In comparison to whom? Who’s judging me anyway? And besides which does it matter if anyone is? Etc. Nonetheless…

As the year has gone on, my health has been deteriorating again. This means I’m in more and more pain for more and more of the time. As a result I’m usually on fairly heavy duty drugs. Which isn’t great in and of itself, but they also have other interesting side effects. I have sod all appetite for starters. Or mains, or desserts 😉 So I’m eating even less than usual, and thanks to my IBS, eating wasn’t something I was all that keen on or bothered about anyway. On the upside there’s less of me, and hey, nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, right? And talking of taste? Yeah, it screws up my taste buds too. I’ve even gone off beer. Yes people, you heard right. Off. Beer. The end of the world may indeed be nigh, get your houses in order 😉 Since I try not to be on the drugs all the time, when I do have to take them, and am not habituated, they also turn me into a bit of a zombie. And yes, you might think being permanently stoned is fun, but it isn’t…the novelty wore off quite some time ago.

None of which makes cycling any easier I reckon. I swear it sometimes takes as much energy to keep it together on the bike as it does to actually ride the darn thing. Riding sometimes also makes the pain worse, but it makes my head better, and since the state of play sometimes gets me down I need to ride…ooh, it’s all so circular 😉 Even when I have the pain under control, my body is still dealing with it even if I’m not actually aware that that is going on, so I imagine it’s working harder than I think. And thanks to the calorie deficit levels, I don’t seem to have reserves like I used to, I don’t have enough stored in the tank to ride on. So I tire easily, get cold easily, and generally don’t have what I had. Mind you, my body is an amazing thing really. Look at everything it’s going through, and what I put it through, and what it does and can do regardless. Pretty awesome 🙂

The chances are that there is more surgery in my future. I have an appointment with my consultant, this time via the NHS, in January. It being the NHS, I’m thinking I could probably get away with avoiding the knife until next Autumn at least though, what with waiting lists and all that jazz. So I can still make some cycling plans. I have my amazing prize, my 5 day Spanish cycling trip, in February. And I have a vague Maratona plan shaping up for 2017. But for 2016, I think a goal would be good. Possibly essential. Something that gives all these sportives meaning, makes them part of a training routine. And I’d prefer it to be something I do in company. In fact I’d like to cycle with more people more of the time, and not just because it’s probably better to have company in case I lose it completely and need picking up off the tarmac 😉 I’d just like cycling to be more of a social, sociable thing than it has been this year… Back to goals though. I have no idea what that should/could be. The Etape is out, the route doesn’t interest me. And it doesn’t have to be a sportive or an event. I’m open to ideas…fire away if you have any suggestions!

Considering how I’m feeling, mentally and physically, it is definitely the end of the season. Even though, as is oddly and always surprisingly, frequently the case, it turns out that yesterday’s sportive went a lot better than I felt like it did. I was a golden girl 😉 But it felt like hard work, it hurt, and my head wasn’t really in the game. Which has been the case for the last couple of sportives really, and I think I’ve possibly had a elegant sufficiency of them for the time being. Just as well it was my last one this year then 😉 I just feel a bit like I’ve been fighting too many battles on too many fronts somehow. I’m even thinking of maybe taking a break from the bike. Or at least making a conscious effort to do it differently. With a different focus. Which will be easier since training is less of an issue for a little while at least. I think it’s time to sit back and enjoy the ride, and when I can get out there, remember to be grateful that I’m riding at all. But I’m not going to let this beat me. I shall remember there have been some real high points this year, and that there will be more ahead. PMA here I come! 🙂

The high point of my year. Literally 😉

Evans Ride It Wiltshire Downs 2015

Me oh my, I am such a long way behind. But there’s been so much going on! Riding, working, Dad’s birthday, life…what can I say?

A lot of the two weeks prior to this sportive was spent trying to get my knee better. Resting more, riding less. Though probably not quite enough of one and too much of the other. But hey, I was trying…!

Since the Welsh Raider, when things went a little pear shaped, I’d done a flat easy run with Alan, a flat short loop on my own, another easy run with the ever-patient Alan, and a nice seaside loop with, unsurprisingly, Alan again. And slowly things had been getting better. Riding was not pain free but it was improving, and the time required to recover off the bike had been coming down.

Cycling time: 6:32
Distance: 99.2 miles

All of which means it was time for another sportive. The Evans Ride It Wiltshire Downs, to be precise. It’s fairly local, which means a shorter drive and more time in bed. And coming as it did, the day after the clocks went back, that means another hour in bed, and daylight to drive in. Very handy! Even better, the forecast was good, and that drive took place in autumn sunshine, something you wouldn’t have predicted considering that it spent all Saturday p*ssing it down…!

HQ was at Wiltshire College, Lacock, at the end of a long, muddy, leaf covered drive, which would turn out to be pretty typical of all the roads for the day. It may have been dry overhead, but not under wheel! I parked up in a muddy gravel carpark a little way from registration and decided that I’d get sorted and then register rather than to-ing and fro-ing. It being October, even with the sun shining, it was pretty darned cold, somewhere around 6°C, so it was just a case of putting on all the layers I’d brought with me, loading up the bike and my pockets, and heading off. There were toilets in a changing room block opposite where the gentlemen were queuing and where I didn’t have to, and as it turns out, there were also more inside by registration. I registered, and the lady stuck my timing sticker on the right hand side of my helmet which was unusual, it’s usually t’other side. No bike number, so presumably no photography either, a map, and a High5 race day pack, and I was done. Since I had no intention of returning to the car to stash anything, I plundered the pack for the useful and discarded the rest.

Back outside, and the queue for the start was stretching a long way back, which was a bit disheartening, with the thought of standing around in the cold for ages not appealing. Still, it turned out not to be too bad in the sunshine, and the other riders around were chatty and sociable and as riders were being let away in fairly big groups, it wasn’t long until we were the next group, with me right at the front of it. No pressure then! After the usual rider briefing, a demo of the black on pink arrows, again novel, and a reminder that this was all supposed to be fun, we were off on our way.

Wiltshire College doesn’t half like its speed bumps! I’m not sure when we stopped being on the estate, presumably when they finally ended! Somewhat oddly, I seemed to have left my group pretty much behind me, so it felt like it was just me heading out into the Wiltshire countryside. My camera had somehow run out of batteries, so there’s not a lot of photographic evidence of my day sadly…which is a shame because it was absolutely beautiful out there. Glorious in fact. I’ve cycled around this area before, most notably on the White Horse Challenge, but a lot of this route was completely unfamiliar to me, and I’ve never seen the Downs stretched out around me like that before. Stunning 🙂

Having got my layers spot on, after the initial chill had worn off and I’d warmed up, so about an hour then, I was pretty happy out there. There were a few ups, but nothing too terrible, and most of it seemed to be being fairly flat or rolling. So, on to mental meanderings and route decisions to mull over. There were a lot of options, and route splits came one after the other – no front loading this time. Would it be the Fun route at 15 miles? Nah, don’t be daft. Ok then, how about the Short at 34 miles, the Medium at 63 miles, or the Long at 80 miles? Hm… No rush to decide though. The first food stop came at 28 miles in, in a pub car park, where the two outdoor toilets were proving woefully inadequate for the number of people wanting to use them. I duly queued, and then after grabbing some jelly beans, and taking the odd photo with my phone, headed off again. The next route split came shortly afterwards, but even though I reckon there were at least three things wrong with me, because I’m lucky like that, I still reckoned the Short route would be too short.

I did decide however that, although the longest route appealed, and let’s face it, it was a beautiful day to be out there, it would be unwise to push it. I reckoned I could manage the 60 without making things too much worse, whereas with the 80, with the bigger climbs in the extra miles, I might set my knee’s recovery back quite a way, which seemed like a daft idea. So when the next split came along shortly afterwards, I took it. Which meant that I was half done already and on the homewards stretch. A stretch that took me through more beautiful countryside but back on to more familiar turf. Not that I’m complaining, I love cycling through Avebury 🙂 The lack of novelty did make it feel slightly like harder work though somehow, less to distract the brain from the effort being put in? I guess I was also getting tireder, I’m fairly sure I hadn’t eaten enough, (nothing new there then), and being ill does have a habit of taking it out of you even if you are doing a very good job of ignoring that 😉 Still the scenery continued to keep my spirits up far enough. Multi-coloured autumn leaves, close cropped fields still golden in the sunshine, blue skies stretching for miles… Sorry, since I’m short on photos I thought I’d try poetic words instead 😉

Towards the end there was a long draggy staged up that went on for a couple of miles. Hardish work but my kind of climb, and man, the descent afterwards was way more than worth it! OK, so there were “Caution” signs and there were other riders who were gingerly braking their way down, but I could see all the way down, it wasn’t very bendy, and there wasn’t any traffic coming so….yep, I was the loon hurtling down on the right with a massive grin on my face 😉 A couple of miles after that and I was back negotiating speed bumps, and then crossing the finish line, where I was given another High5 taster pack. Job done 🙂 There were lots of happy riders milling around in the sunshine and eating the hot food on sale. I took a break on a step with a can of fizzy lemon, before making my way back to the car.

Cycling time: 4:04
Distance: 62.2 miles
Avg: 15.3 mph
ODO: 11487.7 miles

High5 taster pack

I may not have done the event justice, but I’d definitely do it again. In fact I actively want to. The route is lovely, the scenery is stunning, and it’s not too challenging – so it was perfect for this time of year. Maybe next year I’ll get to do the long route 🙂

Cycling Weekly Welsh Raider 2015

Apologies for the delay…usual excuses…etc. But hey, better late than never so here goes…

Most of my sportives are only a couple of hours away. It means they’re within driving distance and I can get there and back in a day. And the Welsh Raider was no different. But what with the nights drawing in and not feeling great these days, I figured I could use a couple of extra hours sleep the night before, and booked myself into the nearest Travelodge. Presumably that’s travelodgical…*groan*.

So on Friday night, off I went. Yes, Friday. The Welsh Raider was on a Saturday. I always like that, it means you have Sunday to recover and relax, and you don’t lose your entire weekend to one sportive. It was getting dark as I set off, and and proper dark when I arrived, having spent a couple of hours blindly following my satnav along a whole range of pitch black country roads. with no idea of what the scenery was like. Mind you, at least that kind of road means I stay awake – motorways + medication tend to send me to sleep, which ain’t great. Anway, I may have had no idea where I was when I got there, but I was pretty sure I was in the right place, as I parked up next to the UK Cycling Events van!

Having checked in I took myself off to the pub next door, The Squirrel, for some food. Scampi and chips, in case you’re interested. Having ordered, and whilst looking for somewhere to sit, I spotted a group who looked a lot like fellow cyclists to me, and as we chatted, they kindly asked me to join them. Apparently they were from the Grench cycling club – which is something to do with concatenating two village names, and nothing to do with Dr Seuss. I’m not good with names, but I think they were Mark, Nigel, Neil and Owen. Hi guys! It turned out to be a very amusing and enjoyable evening – which made a nice change from my usual pre-sportive nights. Sometimes doing these things on your own is actually good – you get to meet new people 🙂

I got a reasonably early night, and then predictably slept like something not at all resembling a baby. Why do hotels not have plug sockets next to the bed? My phone is my alarm clock. My phone needs charging overnight. So my phone is now not next to my bed. I must therefore now wake up at least every hour to check the time on my watch (old skool!) just in case something has happened to the phone and I have missed the alarm I’m not sure why this would be improved by the phone being next to the bed, but I just know it would! *grrr*.

Right then. Time to get up. Outside the window was…well, who knows? The sun wasn’t properly up but there was enough light around to reveal that last night’s meteorological fog warnings had come to fruition. It also looked pretty chilly out there. Marvellous. I made some guesses as to which layers of what kit was going to work for this, and with minimal faffing was on my way down the road to HQ at Ludlow Racecourse, all of 10 minutes away. I was there around 7:30am, when registration opened, and I was amongst the first arriving. It was cold, darkish, and still very foggy, which also meant it was damp. Lovely…

On my way to register I was quite impressed to see that each of the bike racks outside came with a track pump attached, which struck me as a really good idea, even if I didn’t need one. Mine was in my boot if I did. I headed inside, and after a brief spell in my queue, was given my map, cable ties, bike number (3713) and helmet timing chip. After nipping in to use the facilities I headed back outside to the car to faff for a bit. It wasn’t exactly inspiring weather for a sportive but I was here, and it was there to be done, so I could only put off the inevitable for so long! It was time to head for the start…

Today’s rider briefing was short and to the point which, as it was freezing standing around, was a good thing. Around 8:00am I, and a small group of other riders, headed off for the day ahead.

Right, once again, like the Bristol Belter, I need to explain the route set up. Think uneven figure of eight, with HQ in the off-centre middle. The right/east loop is sort of 40 miles, the left/west loop is sort of 65. The Short route does the 40. The Standard route does the 65. The Epic route does the Short route and then the Standard route – making up 105 miles. Which pretty much means you have to make a call between Epic and Standard within about 2 miles of setting off. I was here to do the Epic one so I duly turned right when the option arose, whilst almost everyone else didn’t! Too late now…

About 2 miles after that, whilst still freezing and not at all ready for it, came the first hill of the day. A pretty steep one has it happens! I may not have enjoyed it much but actually it proved fairly motivational as it didn’t feel as bad as I’d thought it might, thus leading me to think that today might be going to go ok. Mind you I’ve have been even happier about it if the roads across the top and back down again hadn’t been so sh*tty. And to the four riders who hurtled past me downhill one by one with absolutely no warning, while I was trying to avoid potholes, mud and gravel…? No, I won’t say it, but I did then, albeit probably under my breath. Probably. It didn’t amuse me at all when one of them undercooked the following corner and ended up in the hedge. Much. And before you tut at me for my black heart, he was absolutely fine, not even his ego was dented.

There was another bigger, or make that longer, hill a few miles on, and then after that the route settled into rolling. I’d looked at the profile before and had presumed it only looked relatively flat between hills due to scale. But it really was like that. It was also still foggy, freezing cold, and without views to look at or any sense of anything, it was a bit depressing. Life picked up at one point though, when a gentleman called Ray (I think) pulled alongside me and asked if I was me, which of course I was, and it turned out he reads my blog! How cool is that? Hi there! That definitely cheered me up a bit, and he also rode with me for a while which also helped, even though it would turn out to be the longest conversation I had all day. After a while, and another small up splitting us up, he headed off with my blessing, and I carried on my own without having to keep up 😉

The first food stop came at around 27 miles in and though I wasn’t feeling too bad it was nice to have a brief break. The fog meant that I was proper damp and although it wasn’t windy, the air temperature of the air going past me made for a significant wind chill factor – I was frozen right through! Remind me to not use that base-layer again – bamboo doesn’t seem to wick, and once that layer was cold and damp it just sat there keeping you that way! It was actually warmer being stopped, but I still didn’t hang around for too long. Places to be, many miles ahead, etc.

The route split came another rolling 13 miles later. I had been mulling my route choice over, since I wasn’t having a whole heap of fun out there, but having driven there, paid for a Travelodge, etc…well, that ain’t worth it just to ride 45 miles right? With a quick “you can do this” to myself, I didn’t go left, I carried on in to the foggy grey yonder on the Standard route, with another 65 miles ahead of me. Most of which I spent not just on my own but without another rider in sight – another side effect of the route set-up. The official times show just 96 riders doing the Epic route and judging by the times some of them recorded, some of them definitely didn’t! That means that there weren’t a lot of Epic riders out there and we few were also a long way behind the Standard route riders.

The route carried on rolling through the fog, with the odd actual up and down but nothing too noteworthy. None of it was making me any warmer or drier. I was breaking the time and miles left down into blocks to deal with, mentally & physically. I broke things up further with breaks for food, drink, and occasional photo ops as taking pics with the gloves on was tricky. I was really looking forward to the halfway mark since that’s always a bit of a mental attitude tipping point…and it even came with a church to photograph at precisely the opportune moment. There wasn’t a lot of scenery out there to admire, as I mentioned earlier and even the villages and towns seemed a bit unremarkable to me, so a pretty church was a sight to behold.

Time for another foodstop then, which I think was around the 56 mile mark. The ‘staff’ were lovely and friendly, and there may even have been a bit of banter 🙂 And there were fig rolls! At this point I was feeling ok. Just ok, but ok is ok. Ok and over halfway. The terrain was proving to be doable even if I wasn’t doing it as fast as I felt I ought to be given the lack of big hills. What’s new? And I was bound to warm up sooner or later as the forecast had better things in store for the afternoon, right? Time to go and get the rest of it done then. Off I set, up through the town, up something that I guess was a small hill but really wasn’t anything special. However… Halfway up it my left knee “went”. I can’t describe that really. I wasn’t doing anything different to usual, I was just pedalling, which I’m fairly sure I’ve done before! But something failed/scrunched/popped…and it started hurting. Now I’ve had a niggling knee problem since my L2P in 2009 but that’s sort of background. This wasn’t that. Well ok, it kind of was, in that it was in the same sort of place, but it was most definitely foreground! And for the next 49 miles every left pedal stroke hurt a bit. Nice, no? No! I have to say it did very little for my joie de vivre…

There was nothing to be done about it, I just had to keep going. The only way I was getting back was to get myself back. So I rolled on. I knew it wasn’t going to stay rolling…there was at least one proper big hill between me and HQ, in fact between me and the next food stop, which had me a little worried. In the meantime it brightened up a bit, and the fog cleared, but I still didn’t get as far as needing to remove layers, I just carried on and counted down the miles to that hill… At a couple of points I even saw a couple of other riders! There was also some scenic stuff to admire too; I vaguely recall a nice bit along a tree covered river, which reminded me of similar in the Pyrenees last year. However I figured I must be in Wales when I saw my favourite road markings 🙂 And there was even a level-crossing. Train tracks have been known to be the bane of my life but I made it over these at the recommended 90 degree angle and stayed on the bike…

I was getting increasingly tired and less with it. Being cold, the knee hurting, the relentless rolling, I think it was all just getting to me. And my performance up that very big long hill was abysmal! I mean I made it up, hairpins and all, but there really wasn’t anything in the tank. There was a sign by the road calling it “Ceri” at some point but I’ve no idea if that’s the name of the hill or the nature reserve on it, or what. I just know that it went on and on forever…most unusual for English hills. Which is probably because it was Welsh 😉

Still, just briefly there, on the way up, there was sunshine, and views, and hey, after this hill it was going to be essentially downhill all the way back. It wasn’t that bad, right? These are the things you keep telling yourself to keep you going… A little sign at the top told me I should cheer up, because I could be mowing the lawn. Actually mowing the lawn sounded like a perfectly acceptable alternative to me… 😉 But it did mean the hill was finally behind me, and it was time for the third and final food stop.

There were other riders here, the same faces as I’d seen before at food stops and occasionally on the road. There weren’t many of us though! We chatted briefly, and I wasn’t the only one not feeling it, or not feeling my feet for that matter. But chatting wasn’t going to get me home. I set off on my own again and the last 20 miles were, yes, you guessed it, rolling, although with a downwards trend overall. And those miles were also pretty much purgatory. It clouded over again and got colder. I got tireder, my lower back started hurting, the knee got worse, and even with gels and eating and drinking I was definitely running on empty. I can’t tell you much more about that last section other than it seemed to take a very long time! I’d assumed that defeated, head sunk between shoulder blades drooping, position and the world had shrunk down to just me, the road ahead of me, and my need to get back. Then 105 miles turned out to be 106.4 which isn’t a big deal really, but did mean I spent the last mile or so wondering if I was lost on top of feeling out of it! Luckily, as with all UK Cycling Events, the plentiful signage kept reassuring me I wasn’t. I kept following the arrows, kept pedalling, and finally I was back at the race course and limping under the Finish arch.

Cycling time: 7:13
Distance: 106.4 miles
Avg: 14.7 mph
ODO: 11326.3 miles

There weren’t many people left around, unsurprisingly. The timing team handed me my medal and various goodies – a Power Bar recovery drink, a magazine, Craisins, & pistachios – and I parked up on one of the racks I’d seen so many hours before. There was no sign of the tea/coffee on offer, and the masseur was busy, so I gave up looking, retrieved my bike and headed for the car. It took me a while to figure out how to get into the car however…my brain had so gone elsewhere. I’d gone so far beyond, that I couldn’t think straight. Everything hurt, nothing wanted to move anymore, and I was wiped out! Looking back later, I realised that it was my longest ride this year, and my first century since May, so maybe it’s no surprise that it was hard work? After a while sitting in the boot of my car, I got it back together enough to get changed, load up, and nip into HQ for a quick freshen up before heading off.

Not that I got far! A couple of miles down the road I realised that there was no way I was going to get home in one piece in that state, so I pulled into the next available lay-by, locked the doors drank a can of Red Bull, closed my eyes, and was out like a light. It’s a good thing I set an alarm, otherwise I might have still been there the next morning! As it was, 45 minutes later, I was up, feeling much better, and had a lovely drive home down through the Wye Valley and over the new Severn Crossing which, as you should know by now, I love 🙂

So. I guess it’s a nice enough event. I’m sure on a good day it’s much nicer. It’s well run – let’s face it UK Cycling Events know what they’re doing by now. But 2 average hills, 1 big one, and a lot of rolling means that the only real challenge to it is the distance. The way the route is set up reduces your options on the day and leaves long route riders lonesome. There are also prettier parts of the country, in my opinion anyway. So of all the events they run, for whomever, I’m not sure why you’d do this one, and I don’t think I’d do it again. Having said that I am still perversely pleased that I did what I set out to do. Goal achieved. My knee was not and is not… But I do feel like I earned my little reward on Sunday, not that I ever need an excuse to drink fizz 😀

If life gives you demons, make a deal

Increasingly rubbish weather. Increasingly rubbish me. It’s getting harder and harder to get out on the bike. And it’s just as hard to find reasons to do so when I actually can.

Sure, when you’re riding with a mate, or mates, it’s easier. There’s conscience, company, and frequently coffee. All good.

But when it’s just you? Or in this case just me? Well not having been out this week, my conscience was gnawing away at me. The weather seemed like it might be tolerable. Two out of three ain’t bad, right? But I was having trouble remembering why I should be doing it. Another couple of hours cycling around familiar and thus contemptible local roads on my own? Hm…

So, since I have otherwise had a very constructive week and still had some things to do, I decided I would make my ride about getting some of those done, and make up my route around that and as I went along. An ride that would be both errant and run errands. Or ride errands 😉

Et voilà…

Job one: put on my new socks because I wanted to test them out on route.

Job two: post a rented DVD back to Lovefilm.

Job three: ride to George’s and drop off a bag of spare kit for her. Which involved the novelty of riding with a pack on my back, and the discomfort and extra heat that went along with that. Ick. Hence that being the first stop en route.

Job four: get some less familiar miles in. Meander, wiggle, roam, take roads at a whim, and then join up the dots.

Job five: pop into Cheddar Cyclestore and buy new cleats for my winter shoes. I discovered earlier this week that I had clearly harvested those that they originally had at some point earlier this year, and forgotten about it. I don’t half get through cleats!

Job six: Go home. There was no job 6. Just job done. Out, but not down. I remain undefeated 😉

Cycling time: 1:56
Distance: 31.8 miles
Avg: 16.4 mph
ODO: 11100.7 miles

Severn Bridge Sportive 2015

here I come Bridge

I have a bit of a thing about cycling over the old Severn Crossing. I like it. A lot. And it’s a fair bet that a sportive called the “Severn Bridge Sportive” involves that, right? Bit of a no-brainer really. I also have a tendency to repeat sportives that I’ve enjoyed before. This one I did in 2013. In June. In glorious sunshine. This year’s edition was in August. On the Bank Holiday weekend. So guessing what the weather was going to be like was also a bit of a no-brainer…

Yep, I love waking up in the dark, after a truly disastrous night’s sleep, to the sound of rain on the conservatory roof, and the forecast of much more to come *sigh*. I came this close to rolling over and going back to sleep, but since I was due to be reviewing it my sense of obligation and my conscience kicked me up and out of bed. Man, I have to learn to get rid of those two pesky things! 😉

Which brings us, after a damp and dreary drive, to HQ at Castle Coombe Circuit. I was on the early side and was marshalled to park up at the nearer end of the parking, passing many walking riders heading off to register in the chilly rain. I wasn’t going to do that. I knew better. I knew that it’s further than you think. And I figured the best thing was to sit in the back of my car, faff, get sorted, and kill time so that I could ride to registration, use the facilities, and then not have to loiter around in the rain for too long before start time came. Moisture minimisation. So there I sat, peering out, watching riders walking to and fro’ while it rained, and rained, rained heavier, rained lighter, but always rained. Ah well, at least it was easy to decide on layers. S*d the gilet, it was definitely an armwarmers and waterproof day. Let’s face it, with the autumnal temperatures, boil-in-bag wasn’t likely to be an issue. Hey, on the upside, at least it wasn’t windy for a change!

Time passed, and finally it was time. I clambered out the back of the car, clambered on to the bike, and rode off to register. Luckily registration was indoors. Riders were sheltering wherever dry was, and there may even have been an element of huddling together for warmth! I signed in, got my number (322), ties, and helmet timing chip, and went back into the ‘orrible outdoors to fix them where they needed to be. Whilst waiting outside I bumped into Herbie and his Mrs, and we chatted for a while, friendly faces always being a good thing, before taking our places in the start line. I think we were in the second group away, but a bit far back in it so I couldn’t really hear the briefing – maybe a mic would have been useful – but I caught the odd salient point and saw the signs I would be following, before we were on our way.

The route starts with half a lap of the race circuit which, though smooth and flat and therefore probably lovely normally, seems to have decided drainage is not necessary and that standing water is a good thing. Water was coming down, coming up…and my ar*e was soaked even before we left the circuit. Ick! I’d meant to cycle with Herbie for a while but all that cold and wet going on meant I needed to get going on and warm up a bit so I left them behind and headed off. As we exited the circuit onto a muddy country lane, one poor sod was already fixing a puncture. I’m fairly sure that today, if that had happened to me, I’d just have walked back around the circuit, loaded the car up, and gone home!

Off we go then. There’s a distinct lack of photos today, mostly due to the weather. But also to the fact that we’ve all seen damp English country lanes before! What scenery there was en-route to the bridge would probably have looked lovely on a different day but today it just all seemed a little grey and dismal and uneventful. It’s amazing what a difference weather makes to a place, and when you’re busy looking down and watching where you’re riding, you’re not really looking at the view anyway.

So… It was a ride of four hours. One very wet one, one wet one, one mostly dry one, one wet one. Or maybe it was a ride of three parts. One ride out. One bridge aller et retour. One ride back.

Because today I did the short route. I like Welsh hills. I liked the long route when I did it before. But today 40 miles of wet Welsh hills just didn’t appeal. I can do them any time and, in fact, have already done that several times this year. So I rode a fairly flat 33 miles just to ride over the bridge, grab some yummy apple pie, ride back over the bridge, and ride 33 miles back again. Which made this a fairly easy, vaguely miserable, slightly boring ride. I know, I’m weird, how can riding a bike be boring? But without lots of up there isn’t lots of down. It’s just fairly constant pushing, slowed down by puddles, potholes, and mud! Maybe I should have done the extra forty mile hilly loop after all?!

But, and there’s a big but, it was totally worth it. Why? Because thanks to coinciding with the Severn Bridge Half Marathon and presumably some hefty behind the scenes negotiating, the old Severn Bridge was closed. Totally closed. As in the only traffic to be crossing it between 7:00am and 13:00pm was us. Cyclists. How cool is that?! Very, since you asked. How many people can say they’ve done that? Well, around 300 or so probably, depending how many no-shows there were, but still, bet you haven’t! It totally made my day :D.

You can’t blame an event for the weather though. This was not a bad event by any means, it just suffered from bad weather. There were a lot of positives. Good signage, all bar the odd bit when I’d been on my own for a while and was convinced I was lost and could have used a reminder. The marshals and staff were friendly and helpful. The food stop (used twice on the long route) was great, well supplied with hot drinks, savoury and sweet food (I mentioned the apple pie, right?), water and energy drink, and being in a community centre, it also had toilets.

Mind you, the short route – being essentially out there and back again – involved a little too much repeating for my liking, and the section around what I think was Yate on the way back in the rain involved far too many roundabouts, traffic, and traffic lights to slow me down when I was in push for home mode. And I did push. After a drier hour around the bridge, on the way back the rain came back. I’d had enough, and I wasn’t taking any prisoners – I was over-taking them all! Well, it was pretty flat 😉 Which would make it a great route for people who don’t like hills, who aren’t race snakes, who fancy a nice day out in the countryside, or for novices. The 100 mile route has more to challenge and more to see, and those hills in the middle would break up the flat out and back nicely. Maybe next year? 🙂

After 66 miles I was back on the soaking circuit again and sort of sprinting for the Finish arch, where I was soon collecting my goody bag, and then declining the free pasta. That done, I had a chat to Andy Cook who runs the event and who seemed remarkably sanguine given the weather that had happened to his event and no doubt cast somewhat of a pall over the Family Cycling Day element of the day. Still, it’s the English weather, what can you do? There were still various undeterred small people cycling around the track with their parents and clearly having fun doing so 🙂 Chatting done, and since I was soaked through and getting cold, it was time to head back to the car, reverse the faffing process, and go home. Back home, down the rainy motorway, with the heating on! Bye bye summer… 🙁

Cycling time: 4:11
Distance: 66.5 miles
Avg: 15.9 mph
ODO: 10857.9 miles

By the way the day did have another highlight. On the way back, as I closed in on another rider, and passed a farm on the left hand side, there frolicking on the drive, were two very cute small kittens. One of which ran off, while the other sat and watched, all black and white and wide-eyed as I passed. Aw, how adorable. It definitely made me smile. In fact, as I informed the somewhat bemused rider I was now passing, I think all sportives should include kittens 😉 *grin*.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst

OK, before I start on my latest sportive blog…let’s play catch up shall we? Actually at present it’s also my last sportive this year, but I really hope that isn’t the case so let’s skip past that…

So there’s the ride I did with Alan last Wednesday. We went up a Gorge, had a coffee stop, and came back down again. Oh, and in case you’re interested, or heading out that way, the Rock Cake Café is apparently closed as of the end of August…future as yet unknown. Just FYI. Anyway, another day and for the usual reasons, I’d probably have bailed but as I had an academic errand to run to Wells and it always oddly pleases me to use the bike to do something constructive rather than just as a mobile gym, I didn’t. Maybe I should have. To be honest, it did not go that well. Given flat, given down, and I was a vaguely on form me. Up however? Ow…! *grrr* But Alan was both tolerant and patient, and is also probably used to my vagaries by now so hey…out, not in, and another ride in the bank 🙂

Cycling time: 2:08
Distance: 33.1 miles
Avg: 15.4 mph
ODO: 10760.8 miles

And then there’s the ride I did with Charlie and my adoptive cycle club iCycle.cc (it’s a Velothon thing) on Saturday from Bedford. With the aforementioned sportive ahead of me the following day I opted for the slower of their two groups. Well…OK…let’s be honest, I kinda did that because I was scared I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the other group but…after a happy couple of hours bimbling around Bedford, where their word “hill” has a completely different meaning to mine, and seeing the other group’s average speed I SO could have done. But hey, discretion, valour, sportive, etc. *grin*

Cycling time: 2:01
Distance: 30.5 miles
Avg: 15.0 mph
ODO: 10791.4 miles Charlie

It had a lot of upsides though. It was sunny. There was no wind to speak of. And as I may have hinted, Bedford be flat! But it sho’ is pwerty. Very pwerty 🙂 It was nice to ride somewhere new, with new company, without signs, timing, or pressure. Our slower group numbered five, and it came with a stay together help everyone vibe – as a club that seems to be how they work – inclusive and encouraging. And, sincerely, with no insult meant to the slower riders in our group; when I ride with folk, I am pretty much always the slowest, the drop off the back, the wait for me at the top of the hill. And it was nice not to be that for a change. To be faster. To be let off the leash to sprint and hurtle on my own from time to time when we could all regroup afterwards. To feel comparatively fast, but not feel resentful about our average speed. We all have to start somewhere, and it would have been great to have had such a supportive group like that back when, in the distant mists of time, I started out. Oh, and I was also drug-free for a change…for how long who knew? But I can cope with that. You bear your cross, I’ll bear mine. Like it or not, sometimes the ego needs a boost, and this was good for mine. Even if I know I’m not fast really. So I enjoyed it all ’round. You’re supposed to enjoy being on the bike, and this was enjoyable. Sadly I couldn’t hang around for post-ride coffee and banter for too long afterwards as I had to get home, and it’s a longish drive, so apologies and thanks for having me guys 🙂