Tag Archives: cycling

Wiggle Wye Valley Warrior 2015

For the fifth weekend in a row, and the last one for a little while, this Sunday was predictably time for another sportive. Welcome to the Wiggle Wye Valley Warrior. My son, also predictably, asked me “wye” I was doing it, given the ‘orrible weather forecast…*groan*.

This was a question I asked myself when the alarm went off at 6:00am, and I didn’t need to draw back the curtains to know it was raining, I could hear it! What with that and pills and pain I came much closer than usual to bailing altogether, and just rolling over and going back to sleep. But, well, clearly I didn’t, otherwise this (rather long!) blog wouldn’t be here. And besides, I don’t, do I?

So, coffee, pills, breakfast, and time to go. On the upside, Chepstow is only 45 minutes from here, hence the later than usual start, and I got to go across the old Severn Bridge which I always like. OK, so I prefer riding across it, but I’ll be doing that on two different sportives later this year, and it wouldn’t have been much fun in the cold and damp and windy anyway!

HQ was at Chepstow Racecourse, with parking being opposite on a large muddy gravelly sodden car park. Nice. I was not looking forward to negotiating that with the bike and cleats…but for the time being I was wearing boots and it was time to walk to registration in the racecourse building. Same old routine as ever, find your desk, get a timing chip stuck on your helmet, get a Powerbar bottle/goodies (unless you’re on a press place), grab a map, number and cable ties. Easy. Oh, and I loved my number by the way – 1234! Even I can’t forget that. I remember being 501 once… Right, just time to nip to one of the many toilets and head back to the bike.

So. Hm. Well yes it was damp. Drizzly. And with more damp forecast. But it wasn’t very cold. And warmer was forecast. But wet plus wind can make you very cold. And what’s in a forecast anyway? Oh, fiddlesticks. I hate wearing the waterproof so stashed it in the saddlebag in case damp became proper wet later. But this would mean precious little space for stashing layers later if I needed to so… Toe covers, lightweight shoe covers, winter bib tights, bamboo s/s base layer, summer s/s jersey and my winter jacket. With mitts, winter collar, and with the over gloves stashed in a pocket. Well the winter jacket has vents, and zips, and I can push the sleeves up quite a bit. At a pinch one of the s/s layers could come off laters and probably fit in the saddle bag too. I thought, or hoped at least, that I had every eventuality covered!

Which brings me to time to get going. Time to gingerly negotiate the muddy car park, clog the cleats up with gunge, and somewhat ruefully reflect that at least the rain would wash the mud off the bike once I got going… Over the road, and down to the start line where I was luckily straight into the next bunch being prepared to go. I couldn’t really hear the briefing, though I doubt they had much to say that I haven’t heard before, and I could see the board with the signage on, and heard the bit about route splits. Having made it here I was determined to ride some, but I still hadn’t decided which route I was going to do – the 101, the 79, or whatever the short one was. That would be determined by how the weather went and how I actually felt out there.

And off we go. To cycle along the very beautiful but very increasingly damp Wye Valley. There’s a reason it’s an AONB you know. And there were carpets of bluebells, fragrant wild garlic, vibrant yellow oil seed rape, and lots of green. Well wet is good for green and it was kinda raining. Although the kinda of stuff that gets you wet without you really noticing that it’s heavier than you think, if you see what I mean. It still didn’t feel like time to put the waterproof on though. Does it ever? 😉 At some point it occurred to me that things looked kind of familiar, and wasn’t Tintern Abbey on the route around here somewhere? I quickly looked around me, in the nick of time, to see it just about to fly by behind me on the right hand side. Whilst photos in the rain don’t usually happen, there have to be exceptions to the rule, and since this might be the only pretty thing I saw all day if things got properly head down and miserable, I retraced my tracks a little and, voilá, one damp Cistercian abbey captured for perpetuity.

Off we went again. As you do. That would be the royal we of course, since I was back to riding on my own as usual. And I’ll have to admit I was kind of bimbling today. I’ve not had a great week health-wise, and having had my insides sort of painfully implode on a couple of hills lately which, I can assure you, is a seriously weird and unpleasant feeling, I was keen to avoid making that happen again. And as it’s unpredictable, you can never tell if…when… So that was how today’s ride was going to be. Being more than a little terrified of my own insides, today was going to be a bimble. Still, as things started to go up, after one up there was one of those Wiggle signs saying “Well done”, I have to say I hadn’t really noticed it was a notable hill, so that was nice. Encouraging even 🙂

Things brightened up a little. Which meant that there were gaps in between the damp, and the waterproof could stay where it was. I swear I carry that thing more than I wear it! When there was a little sun it was also definitely warmer. But the weather was/is unpredictable, so would it stay nicer? Anyway, the first food stop came around 20 miles in which was maybe a little early, but I stopped anyway. I’d not drunk much yet, so didn’t bother topping up my bottles as I figured I could do that at the next one at that rate. I could eat half a banana and stash the winter collar though, before heading back out.

There were plenty of riders out there today. I never once couldn’t see another one, or felt like I might have gone off course because I’d been on my own for so long. Plus the signage was really good, so getting lost was probably unlikely. Well, all apart from one right turn at the bottom of a steep descent about 30 miles in which a lot of people missed. The rider in front of me pulled up having seen it, and I had to slow up a little too fast, but hey, at least I got the hint and went the right way. The riders swearing at him from behind me went past and disappeared into the distance…I wonder how far they got before they realised?

I’ll get on to the number of riders out there in a bit…bear with me. In the meantime, back to more valleys and hills. All very pretty. Goodrich Castle flew by on the right, there were pretty bridges and arty sculptures. I was doing ok, but I was still feeling too tentative on the pushing it front, and hey, it’s not a race right? To be honest, I’d known from the outset I wasn’t going to do the very long route. Nowt to prove these days, and I was almost tempted by the very short one! But that seemed a tad daft, even for me, so it was going to be the “Standard” route for me. Which I was hoping would have cut out Symonds Yat…no such bl**dy luck!

Which, with a minor detour, brings us to traffic. Wales was pretty busy today. Especially as the world woke up, realised the weather was improving, and that it was a Bank Holiday Sunday and they should be out. With lots of “them” on the road and lots of “us”, things weren’t always entirely civil, and there was some bad behaviour on both sides. And to add insult to injury, there was another cycling event running the same day, on a lot of the same roads, though frequently in the opposite direction. So that’s two way traffic of two sorts on narrow not always two way roads…oooh, we were NOT popular. I’m thinking cycling organisers should maybe communicate and stop this from happening? Especially as the other event, the Monmouthshire Challenge is part of a two day event which has the Forest of Dean Spring Classic, on the same roads, the following day. You know what, I did kind of feel sorry for the motorists, and that doesn’t happen often!

A lot of this came to a head on the aforementioned Symonds Yat. It’s a killer climb, up a narrow road that’s even narrower at the bottom, with precious few passing places. The other sportive may not have been here with us, but plenty of impatient motorists were trying to get down/up as we tried to go up. We all ended up stopped and stuck at one point waiting for things to clear, which led to that “will I ever be able to get back on again” worry. The lady in the car next to me was, very kindly and whilst chatting to me, waiting to let cyclists come up. Sadly she hadn’t realised that this was just backing up the traffic behind her and blocking the road even further up…and tempers back there were rising…

Still, the bottleneck cleared, I did get back into my cleats, and I did get up. Unlike most around me. Or any, actually. *grin* I hope the Mamil who failed to uncleat and rolled over onto the road in slow-motion almost comical fashion is ok, whilst being glad that he did it just far enough ahead of me that he didn’t take me down with him!

Yes, I made it up Symonds Yat again. That’s three for three 🙂 The footbridge over the road at the top marks the end of the worst, though it does keep going up for quite some time afterwards. It is, as a rider in red passing me commented, the hill that keeps on giving 😉 But there were pretty things to look at, and what comes up must come down, which is always good. Although that down brings you into a busy Monmouth. Very busy. With a bridge, lots of cars, traffic lights, some weird back streets to negotiate, and then the busy high street. Did I mention how popular we were?

Having gone down, and out, it was time to go back out into the countryside and as it opened out, a familiar looking climb loomed ahead. Ah, that one. *groan*. Lydart I think it’s called. I knew it was a long one and it was going to take a while. Having done it on the Forest of Dean Classic I knew I’d probably be ok with it though, and hey, with a hairpin, and being long and gradual really, it’s practically my kind of hill. Time to engage crawler gear and just get on with it. Which I did. Stunning views too, if you felt like looking over your shoulder that is.

By this point things had been tricky on the layer front for a while. Sun/hills meant I was a little too warm. When it clouded over, the wind blew, and the drizzle fell again, I was a little chilly. Should I stash a layer or not? More worryingly, because I was overall probably a little too warm, I was drinking more than usual. Having said that, the tramadol has that effect too. I was seriously starting to think I might run out of drink by the second food stop which didn’t come until somewhere around the 60 mile mark, which I think was too far from the first. I made it with mere mouthfuls to spare, and was very relieved to top up my bottles – riding when fretting is not great. Neither would riding dehydrated have been!

Having opted for the standard route as predicted, and not taken the right turn in Monmouth to do otherwise, this left me with only 19 miles or so to do. Which, if it wasn’t too hilly, wouldn’t take too long. And as it was much nicer out there by now, this left me feeling pretty positive. And I won’t say that changed too much but, after some more flat, and more pretty valley, there’s a very very long climb back to Chepstow. It just goes on and on and on. I wasn’t suffering particularly, but I did get pretty bored of the constant upness! Another amusing sign encouraged us to “Finish Strong”. Which hey, great, I’d love to, if you’d stop making me go up bl**dy hill! Still, even bad things come to an end, and the last 5 miles or so were pretty much down again, which just a little kicker of a hill to get us back up to the racecourse.

Ok, so today was a bimble. Maybe I hadn’t really earnt my Finishers medal and t-shirt. I always feel I should have done the long route to earn those. But as I drove back over the Severn Bridge and the heavens opened again, I reflected that if I hadn’t opted for the shorter route I’d probably be slogging up that long hill, or one similar, in the pouring rain and I decided I could live with it 😉 What I did do was have a pretty enjoyable ride, in some stunning scenery, with an awful lot of climbing that I managed just fine without pushing any painful limits. That’ll do me nicely 🙂

Cycling time: 5:47
Distance: 79.5 miles
Avg: 13.7 mph
ODO: 9233 miles

White Horse Challenge 2015

I’m getting used to the 5:15am alarm. To leaving as the sun is rising. As I drove over Winscombe Hill, a deer and I shared space for a little while, before it vanished into a hedge and I carried on my way. Near Banwell tiny lambs were gambolling around in the fields. And, unlike the night before, it wasn’t raining. All of which seemed fairly auspicious as these things go.

Right then, White Horse Challenge, here I come. As ever, I beat the satnav to Shrivenham, arriving early enough to get a parking space on the field behind HQ. Which was good because I knew there was going to be a whole heap of faffing this morning, and that takes time. I have gotten my kit wrong far too many times lately, so had been obsessively checking the weather forecast for days, and had brought a whole variety of kit options with me. First off though, registration, on the basis that walking over there and back would show me how cold and windy it really was out there. Plus, it being earlyish, there wasn’t as yet too much of a queue for the four portable toilets outside, so I thought I’d take advantage of that.

Registration was easy. I signed alongside my name, my timing sticker was stuck on my helmet, and I was left with just my bike number to sort. I passed on the free coffee, grabbed a map and two cable ties, and headed back to the car. Being outside had demonstrated that it was indeed cold and breezy but, on balance, not quite as cold as it was last week. Well, probably not. So, what to wear? Ooh, decisions decisions. I mentally ran through my options, and what I’ve been wearing out there lately and, here we go, from the bottom up; toe covers, winter bib tights, s/s bamboo base later, s/s summer jersey, l/s winter jersey, lightweight gilet, winter collar, mitts, over gloves. I was really hoping that I would have gotten it right this time…

Time to get going then. My steed and I headed back across the field, where I joined a much longer queue for the toilets again. When I emerged and headed for the start, I found Gary waiting for me without even having to look for him. Yes, just for once I was doing a sportive in company. Ooh, the novelty! We’d had a chat beforehand and agreed that if either of us was as crap as we thought we were, and we ended up not being able to ride together, that neither of us would get grumpy about it, which sounded like a plan.

Time to go and put that plan into action then. Riders were leaving one by one as they wished, no bunched starts here, so we duly rolled over the timing mats together and headed out into the chilly Wiltshire countryside.

Now, if last week’s sportive was a ride of two halves, then this week’s was a ride of three thirds. The first 25 odd miles are fairly flat. Which is good because it means you get plenty of time to warm up. There is the odd up, but nothing drastic. However, all of two miles in, on one of those, and probably also something to do with not being warmed up yet, my insides screamed into painful life. And I use the word screamed because that’s what I felt like doing. I was already on the latest pills but it would appear they were wearing off! It fair took my breath away, and I was out of breath already. This did not bode well for the rest of the ride, let alone the hills 🙁

Still, on with the show, right? 25 miles of scenic flat back country lanes. Which we did fairly fast as it happens. I was muddling through, though probably not as conversational as I might sometimes be. I hadn’t warmed up yet, bits of me were screaming, and it was still pretty cold! I sat on Gary’s wheel as necessary, and we made our way around to the first climb of the day. I’ve done the White Horse Challenge several times before, and today familiarity was a good thing. For some reason it made the whole thing feel like a shorter event because I could break it down into chunks, and I knew all the challenges ahead. And the first climb of the day – past the White Horse at Broadtown – I have done many times before. However today, what with the pain, I was kind of dreading it. I was very worried that going up was going to hurt even more which, unsurprisingly, didn’t appeal. And I was also annoyed because I’ve been doing pretty good up hills lately and to be sabotaged by my own body seemed unfair.

So I was very pleased when it actually went really well. We’d agreed to meet at the top and yes, initially Gary drew away from me. But as we got going, and my crawler gear engaged, I got it together, overtook some other riders, and by the time we reached the top I was on it and actually overtook Gary as the road flattened out. It was, as I commented at the time, a lot better than I expected, which did massive amounts of good stuff for my PMA. And it hadn’t made the pain worse. ‘Rah!

Which brings us to the second third of the ride. Which started with a technical down hill, some flat and fun, and the first food stop, when I took the next dose of pills, ate half a banana, and popped into the village hall toilets. We set off, and headed for more hills. Which in this case would be the A4 past the next White Horse at Cherhill. It’s a very long gradual climb which is very attractive but, sadly, had a bit too much traffic on it. Still I was warmed up now, the pills were working, and I was feeling a lot better. On form even. I actually accidentally left Gary behind me, but I waited for him at a relevant point, and we were back together to go through the stones at Avebury. Which formed the pattern for a while. I’d get ahead, then wait, and then we’d try again.

The stretch from Avebury to Hackpen is fairly rolling and fairly enjoyable, but without many places to stop. It’s not that wide a road which probably explains why the black Ferrari going past us all apparently nearly took Gary out – they’re wide cars! It just made me grin when it went past me – I love fast cars 🙂 Our next rendezvous was just after the right turn for Hackpen Hill, where we took a bit of a breather. Gary was feeling a tad dizzy, so the maternal in me nagged him into not just eating but also taking a gel. He did what he was told, though he may have been cussing me under his breath 😉

I love Hackpen Hill. It’s pretty, you can see it from miles off, the White Horse is lovely, I know I can do it, and I LOVE the flying stretch to Marlborough that comes afterwards. Stick followed by carrot. Overall it’s one of my favourite patches of road. The hill has hairpins and everything, and it’s steepest at the beginning and then gets easier – the way all hills should be. And again, it went well, I even overtook people on the way up. And I waited for Gary at the top, which was handy for taking photos 🙂

Having said that, the elastic holding us together was starting to stretch now though. Yes I’d waited at the top, but I then had to go have the fun I’d earnt. And I really did enjoy myself. Fast flying downhill? Of course I did. But I did leave Gary behind again. I waited in Marlborough though, as Gary and a small posse that had grown around him arrived, all of whom I’d overtaken on the way down 😉 We headed out of town down Chopping Knife Lane, which is a fab name, and set off into the middle of nowhere, with hilly wooded climbs, pretty villages, and yes, I’d dropped Gary again. I think I only have one speed. It’s either the speed I can go at at any given time, or no speed at all, and sadly today it wasn’t Gary’s speed. As I carried on there were quite a few more hills, including the one that has no name and no White Horse but is probably the worst of the lot! I went up it with two other riders. They both ended up walking. I did not 😉

I reached the food station at Froxfield, about 68 miles in, feeling fairly positive, and did the usual. I wasn’t that hungry though and actually, looking back, I didn’t eat that much today. One small flapjack, half a banana, some Clif cubes, and one gel. And about 1l of Nuun. I can’t say I felt the lack though, so I guess that’s ok. Anyway, Gary arrived shortly after I’d emerged from the toilet, and I was pleased to catch up with him again. Or have him catch up with me I guess 😉

Which brings us, inevitably, to the third third. Which was less fun. I dropped Gary again, and decided to just keep going. I felt a bit guilty, but the pills were wearing off slowly, it was still cold, and I needed to get this ride over and done with. I also knew he’d understand. Mind you there was also a killer head wind, and there were times I missed the chance of a wheel to sit behind! So off I went. There were more ups, and I knew that the big climb at Uffington was still ahead of me. There was also lots of long draggy climbing through yellow fields, on long straight roads, straight into the wind, that just seemed to go on and on and on… Talk about a slog. My hard earned average speed was ebbing away by the mile, along with my PMA…*sob* 😉

Finally, and somewhat later on the route than I expected for some reason, we reached that last hill. Uffington, aka the Dragon Hill apparently. Which does have a White Horse, but you never see it! It’s also a timed hill climb, which always brings forth a wry smile…as if! On previous rides this has been a pretty busy place, with spectators and the like. It was quiet today, apart from the obligatory photographer half way up of course, which was actually quite nice; less pressure to perform! And actually it was fine. Just another hill. A big one to be sure but hey, done it before, did it again. In fact I apparently did it the best I ever have. Go me! 🙂

Right. Enough with all the up stuff. With only 6 miles of down and flat to go it was time to sprint to the finish. So I did. Which was fun, even with that bl**dy wind 🙂 Finally it was time to cross the finish line, print out my time, and drink fizzy orange while I waited for Gary to join me, which he did a little while later. I’m pleased to say he was still talking to me. Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together? 😉 White Horse Challenge done 🙂

Cycling time: 5:51
Distance: 89.9 miles
Avg: 15.3 mph
ODO: 9092 miles

I’m a bit disappointed with my time; I think it’s actually the slowest I’ve ever done it. Which is weird because I swear it felt easier. And I did good up the hills. I guess what with the wind, and the whole screaming on the inside, and the painkillers, well…none of those are probably conducive. But disappointment not withstanding, and all things considered, it actually went pretty well. It’s a nice ride, on a nice route, with lovely scenery, and I got my kit pretty much right! I had a fairly good day out, and it made a really nice change to do a sportive in company though, even if we didn’t stick together for the entire thing. I may have to try and persuade more of my friends to join me at more events 🙂

Free to be whatever I choose

Time to ride the bike in the sun and see if the legs were still working. Which they were. On a route that was carefully planned to maximise the use of tailwind across the levels. And it was nice out there, as you can see. I had a good time 🙂

Cycling time: 1:43
Distance: 27.5 miles
Avg: 16.0 mph
ODO: 9002.1 miles

Today is MaxiMe’s birthday so, just for once, that’ll be all for me today. Priorities 🙂

Exmoor Beauty 2015

Hello Sunday. Hello sportive. Hello Exmoor Beauty. Which I was actually quite looking forward to. It’s not that far away, the forecast was pretty good, and the route had been made more beautiful and less beastly. Besides, what else would I do on a Sunday? 😉

All of which made for a 5:15am alarm call, aiming for registration at 7:00am, and the start at 8:00am. Which all went to plan, mostly. I even slept pretty well the night before, which is unusual. Surprisingly I was one of the first there, as very few seemed to have felt the need to get there for 6:30am when registration actually opened. I parked up, and walked over to the school sports hall, noting as I went that it was bl**dy freezing out there! My registration had gone astray, which does occasionally happen when you get places my way, but the timing guy just set me up all there and then, with a nod from the boss Marcus, and handed me my 1433 envelope, which contained my bike number, two cable ties, and a helmet timing tag. Then it was back to the car with an hour or so to kill. I alternated faffing outside with sitting in the warmer car and drinking my coffee. It really was cold out there, even in the sunshine, a lot of which was due to a fairly brisk and very chilly wind. Marvellous…

Someone once said that there’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing. Well that pretty much summed up today. With knobs on. Given a bright but breezy forecast and the patch of good weather we are currently enjoying, pretty much everyone had presumed it would continue to be pretty much the same, and dressed accordingly. Including myself. Yes I could have put on some of the other options I’d bought, but since it was supposed to turn into a sunny nice day, I was worried I’d just be setting myself up for over-heating trouble later. So I stuck with the plan. My only concession was to add the winter collar and my overgloves that I’d bought with me to the mix. This was not one of my better calls….but of course I didn’t know that then did I?

Eventually I stopped hiding in the car and took my bike off to the start pen, half hoping they might let people away early to save us freezing to death. Sadly not. The pen slowly filled up, and then bunched up, possibly huddling together for warmth? As the time passed I got colder and colder and actually shivering. Lovely. Eventually Marcus gave us a briefing ably assisted by a man with signs to show us, and we were let go as planned at 8:00am. I was unusually keen to get going, and to hopefully warm up!

If we’re going with quotes, which it would appear we are, today’s sportive was a game of two halves. The first half was pretty horrible. It might not have been if the weather hadn’t deteriorated further, and it had nothing to do with the route or the organisers. But 3 hours of slogging up hills whilst freezing? Not good. I’m sure it wasn’t all up, but it kinda felt like it. Mind you, I was actually making it up the hills ok, and some of those ups were real stinkers, but still… And with all that climbing, my average speed was busy being atrocious and making it look like I was going to be out there for considerably longer than the less than 5 hours I’d been hoping for. On the upside all the quiet country lanes we were using were mostly surrounded by banks and hedges, so that wind wasn’t as much of a problem as it could have been. On the downside, that meant that all you ever seemed to be looking at was road and hedge, and it all turned into a fairly featureless miserable blur.

It all got a bit head down and zoned out, and I had to remember to look up and look out for signs which, luckily, were large, obvious, and where they needed to be, so I didn’t get lost. That would definitely not have helped! Oh, and note to self, if you’re riding alongside a river and it’s flowing the other way to you, you are going uphill, however gradually, and that’s why it feels like hard work! At least having ridden a bit around here some of it was familiar, including a few of the climbs, but I think it’s fair to say I was not enjoying myself. I was also feeling a bit guilty that I wasn’t doing my job. I needed to be taking photos, it’s what I do and it helps me to write about it afterwards. But I couldn’t feel my fingers, so photos en route were out, and I certainly wasn’t stopping to get colder just to take pictures! Yep, I was not a very happy bunny. Really just because I was so cold though which was, sadly, colouring my feelings about everything. The rest of me was doing the best it could given the circumstances!

Which brings us to the food stop at Exford, which was advertised as being at 29 miles in, and was actually 34 miles in. This might not sound like a problem, but when you’re trying to plan eating, and stops, and feel like a break might be a good idea…? A bit irritating. Still, a break was indeed good when I finally got there. And it was made even better by three things. One – there were no queues for the portable toilets. Two – they had warm soup. Warm is good. So was the soup. And the nice lady in the food tent asked me if I was her gluten free lady. To which I replied I wasn’t her gluten free lady but I was a gluten free lady. So three – she made me a gluten-free ham loaf. Real edible savoury food. Practically unheard of and just what I needed 🙂 Thus a little restored, and knowing I was over half way around now, it was time to get going before I got any colder.

Which brings us to the second half. Not much later on, as we up headed towards Exmoor proper, the sun finally came out, we went up, and the views came out too. And the rest of the ride was completely different. There was more climbing, but it was seemed to be more of the longer, wigglier, shallower, more me variety. With scenery to look at, including a cairn and everything. My overgloves and collar went away, the camera came out, and so did my PMA. Mind you, there wasn’t much hiding from the wind up on’t moor! Luckily at some point it became mostly behind me. And here’s where I finally started to have fun. Faster, flatter, sunnier fun. In fact the basic trend for a lot of the last half was essentially downhill. So I hopped from wheel to wheel and I pushed it. Over the moor, and down into the valley to follow the River Exe, flowing downhill this time! At some point we joined the return route to Tiverton that the Exmoor Beast takes and I knew I was properly on the home straight. Fun fun fun – and I was practically warm by now! 🙂

The route turned out, unsurprisingly I guess, to be 68 miles not 64, but since this was familiar territory, it wasn’t as annoying. I just kept going to get to where I knew I was going. And then we were back in town and at the school, just like that. It always seems to come out of nowhere somehow, I guess it’s because it’s on the outskirts of the town? I rolled under the Finish arch, where Marcus was on the tannoy welcoming everyone in by name, and collected my souvenir tankard. The Exmoor Beauty was done 🙂

Cycling time: 4:49
Distance: 68 miles
Avg: 14.1 mph
ODO: 8974.6 miles

Just the other side of the finish line a familiar face was lurking, Geoff Saxon, and it was nice to have someone to chat to for a change. He’d also been riding, though much faster than me! However I was getting chilly again standing still, so I headed off, leant the bike against a wall and went inside to get my time printed out, and grab a fizzy orange as ever before going home. I had, as hoped, made it round in under 5 hours – both ride time and elapsed – just! Officially my time was 4:58 🙂 And when the official results went up a day later, out of 380 riders, I was 167th and 8th woman. I’m really really pleased with that. OK, so my average speed may not seem that impressive, but if you consider where I drug it up from…it ain’t bad!

Today was a BIG ride. Not because it was long – it wasn’t really. Or because of the climbing – I’ve done hillier rides. So not a big ride for the obvious reasons. But…. Today was, by my reckoning, my 100th cycling event. I know these things are arbitrary, but I’m the one counting, I am the arbiter, so I make it 100. So there. And I’m pretty proud of that. Besides, any excuse for fizz, right? 😀

Give up yourself unto the moment

See this? Ok, it’s not an official Col sign. But it’ll do me 🙂 This year’s mental century block had nothing on my enduring Draycott Steep block. I’ve never made it up. Ever. And I’ve been riding a while now. To be fair I’ve not tried that many times. Two or three maybe, and I’ve always had to stop and walk, even if that was sometimes wet road/traffic induced. Nonetheless I’ve never done it. And, due to my dismal prior performance, I wasn’t entirely sure I ever would/could, which is why I’ve been avoiding it. But Alan and I have been meaning to try it again for a while. It was supposed to be today. But last night, with the possibility that he’d have a hangover (he didn’t) and that I’d have earache (I did) I was half expecting us to change our minds about attempting it today. Well we didn’t.

It didn’t necessarily feel like a wise decision. It felt even less wise when, after we stopped post warm-up loop to stash gilets, I coughed my guts up again – this cold is taking a while to clear! But I did want to do it. Or at least try to. We have a habit of doing hills well together, though not actually together as it were. I don’t know if I’d ever summon up the motivation to try it on my own. And I know I wouldn’t want to try it following the usual race snake suspects, who’d be leaving me in their depressing wake. So I guess it was kind of now or never?

The time was now. It seemed as good a time as any. You’d be hard pushed to find a better day to do it too. OK, so we were in pre-sunshine mist. But it was dry. The road was re-surfaced a while back. It was warm enough. And barring the odd considerate vehicle, it was quiet. There was no pressure. And…? Yep, I made it up. All the way up. In one go. It’s long and it’s steep and it’s long and it’s steep! I’d say it nearly killed me, but that would be a tad unnecessarily over-dramatic. It wasn’t quite that bad, but it was bl**dy hard work. Alan had had to take a break near the end of the steepest bit, heart rate you know, but that was probably because he didn’t know the worst was nearly over whereas I did, so I could push on knowing that. To be fair, I just thought he was waiting for me! The higher we got, the sunnier it got, in serendipitously symbolic fashion. And after quite a while, for the first time ever, I conquered Draycott Steep. See this smiley face? Well, ok, you can’t, but even now I’m still mad happy about it 😀

And we didn’t leave it at that which, had I been feeling truly rubbish at the top, had been mooted as an option. But since the sun was out, and the worst was done, it seemed rude not to bathe in the glory for a while. So we went across the top of the Mendips to Burrington Combe, so I could enjoy a good down. And then up through Rowberrow so I could enjoy going down Shipham Hill. I nailed the ups, and I nailed the downs. It turned out to be a pretty awesome ride 🙂

Cycling time: 1:52
Distance: 26.8 miles
Avg: 14.3 mph
ODO: 8877.8 miles

OK, so since Alan had had to stop, and the Steep took his zing away for the rest of the ride, he probably doesn’t agree with me. But I had a great ride, and I couldn’t have done it without him. Thanks mate! We sat in the sunny Square for coffee and cake afterwards, and I did my best not to crow too much. Although I skipped the coffee and went with the more celebratory instead. Well, it is my day off 😉 Woo hoo – I made it up Draycott Steep!!!

Guide Dogs Tour of Berkshire 2015

Another Sunday, another sportive. Which is the story of my life this month, and I’m not complaining 🙂

This time it was the Guide Dogs Tour of Berkshire, running for its second year. It’s not a huge event, and it’s about raising money for the charity, not laying on an imitation Etape for Mamils. It is also one I haven’t done before, somewhere I rarely ride, and there’s a lot to be said for novelty value. I also knew that it was only 77 miles max, the forecast was good, and it had a whole heap less climbing than last week’s Cotswold Spring Classic. What’s not to love?

So, with kit lessons learnt from the Cotswold’s sauna experience, I headed off down various motorways to HQ wearing considerably less layers than usual. HQ was, unsurprisingly, at the HQ of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association near Reading. Which would have been easier to get to if “they” hadn’t closed a railway bridge a couple of miles down the road for re-surfacing, thus confusing both my TomTom and I. Cue a confusing and circuitous detour… But I was there pretty much as planned, around 8:00am, and parked up in the walled garden staff car park. All very pretty, just like the house and grounds itself. It was all fairly low-key, but very sportive. Portable toilets, tent to sign up in, various catering outlets, all set out on the lawn.

Even though the instructions had insisted on photo id, as did the desk itself, nobody checked. I do wish people wouldn’t do that, I only have my passport, and I always feel a bit nervous lugging it around and then leaving it in the car – those things cost serious money to replace! Anyway I was duly handed my bag with my official numbers and various small goodies, which I took back to the car, so as to faff. Just as well I hadn’t gone over there, all ready, with the bike, as I’d still have had to go back to the car to leave it there…

First off – the bike number. I’m not a fan of seat post numbers. They just don’t work with my bike/saddle bag combo, as you can see. And the “don’t bend” instructions for the timing tag on it had me a bit worried, but hey, there wasn’t much I could do about it. The helmet number was easy, though I’d rather not have bothered, but felt I ought to. I continued to potter in the sunshine, debating what layers I had and which to actually wear. The trick was to have enough space in the saddle bag and pockets to stash anything I might have to take off, without compromising on the other stuff I had to carry – food, drink tablets, etc. But I reckon I had it covered, and although warm was due, it wasn’t quite here, though the potential was definitely in the air.

Since kit recitals are becoming my thing, today’s tally was as follows: toe covers, shoes, socks, lightweight tights, s/s bamboo base layer, merino s/s jersey, arm warmers, gilet, and winter collar. See, wasn’t that interesting?

I missed the horn for the start as I was queuing for the toilets. Btw, life is so much easier without bib tights 😉 As I headed to join the start queue in my turn, it turns out there wasn’t a queue if you were doing the “Epic” route and I was ushered straight through. I was off, just like that! The lack of waiting and a briefing was a tad disconcerting, I’m a creature of habit after all 😉

Right then. Here I go again, on my own, as ever. But I was up for that. A Sunday spent riding my bike in the sun? Oh alright then 😉 Mind you, as it turns out, it was a pretty linear loop – mostly out to the west, mostly back to the east – and it was pretty darn windy! A wheel or two to hide behind would have been bl**dy lovely. When you’re doing your best and still only doing 9mph, you sometimes lose the will to live! Luckily, if you can put it like that, the first half was mostly head wind, with the second half being mostly tail wind, as you’d expect. And although there was, according to Strava, more climbing than I thought, it was mostly a case of ups and downs rather than distinct climbs and descents. Rolling maybe. Or Andalucian “flat” 😉 Mind you, the bigger climbs were all in the first half really, and gee, I really love slogging up hill into a killer headwind, it’s just the icing on the cake! 😉

That wind kept things pretty chilly, despite the wall-to-wall sunshine. The winter collar might only have lasted for the first 20 minutes, but my gilet stayed on until around 11:30am which is probably round about when I turned to face the other way, surprise surprise, and my arm warmers came off shortly after that. The sunshine did make it all very pretty out there though. Cultivated fields, thatched cottages, elegant country houses. It being Berkshire it felt a little less countryfied than the Cotswolds had, there were lots of little villages to cycle through, interspersed with rolling fields, woodlands. All sort of well-behaved. England’s green and pleasant land or something. And somehow the miles just ticked by…

There were three food stops. One around 25 miles ish, which I passed on, one around 50ish I think where I did stop, and a drinks one at about 68 miles which I also decided against, it being too near the finish for me. They were a little makeshift – a van and tables in a lay-by, with fizzy coke, water, cake and jelly beans, and sadly no toilets. Mind you the staff were friendly, the coke was good; add a few bananas and flapjacks and, of course, a portable toilet, and they’d have pretty much hit my mark.

I was doing my best to push it a bit for a change. Especially on the flat with the wind behind me 😉 I knew it wasn’t too massive a challenge, and I was fair flying from time to time, and feeling pretty good with it. It’s odd how the time goes though. By the time I got in, I wouldn’t have wanted to do 100 miles, I felt like I was done. But then if I’d known I was going to do 100 miles I’d have paced myself differently, physically and mentally? It felt longer than some though, maybe because it was a lot of all the same for 5 hours? Or maybe I’m just getting bored of spending so much time with myself 😉 I did enjoy it though, which is the main thing. It went pretty well too 🙂

I rolled over the finish line, camera in mouth to avoid dropping it, and took up residence on the manicured lawn with the traditional can of fizzy orange, to watch the other riders come in for a while and get my breath back. And catch a few more rays of course 😉 I couldn’t stay there all day though, so I re-established verticality, popped into the toilets, and de-faffed before heading home. It had clearly been a pretty long day, as having hit the M4 rumble strip a couple of times, my eyes just weren’t going to stay open any longer, so I had to take a break at Chievely Services for a nap before heading on my way home again! I think I need to remember to eat when I get in too – that might well help.

Cycling time: 5:00
Distance: 77.6 miles
Avg: 15.5 mph
ODO: 8851 miles

It’s not a high falutin’ sportive. It’s a modest well-run well-meaning event. There were around 250 riders, and not including the money raised by individual riders, they’ve already raised over £1500 for the charity. It was well sign-posted, though the odd repeater sign might have been nice, and the wind had played havoc with a couple of the signs – which the friendly marshals were busy fixing as I went past. With the variety of routes on offer, 41.5km/84km/125km, it’d be a good event for the sportive novice, and with the relative flatness it’d also be a great route to try and do really fast as a group. According to the results on-line 99 riders did the Epic Route, and I was 50th. 11 of us were female. I was the fourth one of those, beaten by 3 Seniors but first in my V40 Category. I’ll take that 😉

Santini Cotswold Spring Classic 2015

Oops, I’m behind again. Three rides behind. But since two of them were cake related coffee runs with Alan, and I’m a busy bunny with a stinking cold, I’ll stick to just telling you about the sportive I think. In this case, as the title makes obvious, the Santini Cotswold Spring Classic. Which, having gotten my Cotswold’s sportives all muddled up in my head, it turns out I’ve not done since 2011, rather than more recently. What can I say, I’ve done a few sportives now, occasionally they all blur into one… At least I could look back through this blog and refresh my memory. On the other hand I’m not sure that helped. I did it with Guy, it was long and hilly, he danced up the hills, and I walked up them! Oh good. *gulp*.

Ah well, too late now, or something. I’d signed up, had nowhere else to be, no-one to see, it was Easter Monday, and the weather forecast was good. And walking up a hill is not the worst thing in the world. Worse things happen at sea. Etc…

The Cotswold Spring Classic HQ is at Cirencester College, and the car park opened at 7:00am. I left a little later than whichever route planner suggested I should so I could play beat the TomTom, which is always a good game. As I headed up the M5, the sun was coming up, and the street lights were going out one by one as I went past them, which was a little spooky 😉 Having duly won the TomTom race, I arrived at the car park just after 7:00am, one of the first to do so, with the proximity thus garnered putting me a just a short walk from registration in the main school hall. Sunny it may have been, but it was a bit nippy out there. Mind you, it was still very early for a Bank Holiday morning! There was a short queue for the few portable toilets outside but, having read the pre-ride pdf, I knew there were some inside so I nipped in to use those instead first. My pre-ride email had also told me I was rider 740, so I found my registration desk, signed my life away, and was given my map, bike number with timing tag on the reverse & two cable ties, and a couple of edible things.

Back to the car for much faffing. What on earth to wear? The forecast had said 14C, sunny, no wind. Apparently it had leapt up to 18C overnight which I was unaware of, but it was already feeling like warmer than had seemed likely. But… Oh dear. Decisions, decisions. I didn’t have summer kit with me. And it was only a forecast? After a few trips to and fro killing time and wondering, I did the best I could. I left the base layer and winter collar in the car, and took the shoe covers off. Which left winter bib tights, toe covers, long sleeve warm jersey, versatile winter jacket, head Buff, and mitts, with gilet and over gloves in the saddle bag just in case. And that was that. Nowt more to be done. Except to ride back to the start line again and queue up of course.

Start times for the mid (100km) and long (160km) routes were from 8:00am and even having done that to-ing and fro-ing I was still near the front. I then had a disagreement with the Garmin as to whether I not I should be allowed to do the activity I’d downloaded for once, or whether it would go on strike. It went on strike. So, this having happened before, I stepped out of the queue, reset the darn thing, and decided to settle on just recording what I did. I’d wanted to have the route so as to be warned when the hills were coming, but hey, if it wasn’t to be…

So I was away, post rider briefing, in the third of the groups of 50 or so riders being let away at two minute intervals. At which point the Garmin told me I was actually doing the route, by beeping route instructions at me slightly too late for me to ever actually do them. There was no way I was going pressing any buttons though, either to stop that, or to see if it was actually working – I wasn’t going to risk it throwing a strop again! So I left it to its own devices, figuring if I did get lost it might come in useful anyway, and headed off into the just slightly chilly Cotswolds.

I’d done my research. Well, kinda. I’d sort of looked at the route profile anyway. So I knew that the first few miles, out through Cirencester and then beyond, were ok, then the hills would start. A fairly hilly 15 miles in fact. And they were hilly. And I was not warmed up. There were two really big climbs. But…I wasn’t walking. Yes they were steep. And frequently also long. But I seemed to be grinding up them in survivable style. I even sort of enjoyed one of them 😉 A good start. Not that this stopped me worrying…as if I was going to do the long route, which was still up in the air, the majority of the climbing would come in the last 40 miles! Which seems a little unfair but does mean that the organisers can run two events for two audiences. It’s an early season event so anyone looking for a reasonable ride can do the 100km. Anyone looking for a real challenge can do the longer route. Which was I?

Ok, so the first chunk of hills were behind me, and I knew the next 30 miles would be a lot easier. The scenery was lovely, especially in the sunshine. Well it is The Cotswolds after all! Chocolate box villages, cute cottages, country piles, all glowing yellow in the sunshine. With flowers and trees and green countryside. All very pleasant, all getting warmer and warmer…and I really don’t like too hot. So by the time we got to the first foodstop at Performance Cycles HQ (event partners & also mechanical support) at Paulton, around 35 miles in, it was time to take action. Well, once I’d negotiated the cattle grid to get in…which was easier said than done with riders coming in and out. I cheated and walked the bike through the side gate next to it! I topped up my bottles, grabbed half a banana, and queued for quite a while for the toilets – 2 portable toilets and one urinal cubicle was not cutting it. It was however the best place to do the obvious as well as taking off the jersey from underneath the jacket. Sure, I’d have like to have lost the jacket, but my storage options were limited. The jersey fitted into the saddlebag, displacing the gilet and overgloves into pockets, and that was all I could do really. That and pull the jacket sleeves up a bit, and unzip the vents it has. I did say it’s versatile 😉

Time to head off again, all the time debating my options with myself. As I understood it the route split was at around 70 mile, at which point we’d be nearly back at HQ, so it would be a choice between 72 miles or 100. I really wanted to do the 100 miles, having failed to do so at The Lionheart, and I was feeling the need to have that first 100 miles of the season under my belt, before I got a real mental block about it. But I still really didn’t know what was going to happen. Sometimes these things are, as we know, out of my control. In the meantime I was feeling pretty good. I was eating regularly – testing out Clif bars and bloks – and I was drinking my Nuun as I sweated my way around the countryside. The weather was gorgeous, and so far it was all pretty much working.

Somewhat to my surprise the route split actually came at 60 miles, a little while after things had started going up in the world a little more often, and before I’d decided what to do. And it just felt too early to go home. So as it happens I didn’t even think about it, I just took the long route right turn. It was in fact a non-decision. So, for better or worse, I was going to get that 100 miles done. Which, although I knew a whole heap of hills were coming, was quite motivating. PMA!

They weren’t lying about the climbing though. OMG and holey moley! There were lots and lots of big long steep hills. Hard work, especially being so warm. And I had a way to go… So I broke it all down into chunks to deal with. 40 miles to go. Last 6 miles flat. So that’s 34 miles really. More than two hours of ups, less than three. With as much up as down, presumably. I took a break every hour, just to kick back a little, eat and drink, and recalibrate, and the second food stop broke things up too. I chatted to the photographers lurking on hills – nice to see you again Phil. Twice! I grinned, or gurned, at other riders, depending on the gradient. And I enjoyed the downhills of course. It all worked out. And I didn’t walk. A great many others did which, as ever, always makes me want to keep going that bit further…although walking might sometimes have been quicker! And those last 6 miles back along the main road to Cirencester were pretty flat, as promised 🙂 I was pretty close to bonking about two miles from the end…hot and tired I guess…but it seemed a bit late to eat anything. Luckily I made it in and over the finish line without losing it completely. First century of the year done, with around 7000 feet of climbing!

Cycling time: 7:15
Distance: 100.5 miles
Avg: 13.9 mph
ODO: 8773.4 miles

Having done the ride on my own, and with the mob being away, it was a little bit of a downer to have no-one to ring and be proud of myself to. But hey, I’m a big girl, right? I can pat myself on the back 😉 And of course it was all worth it, because the goody bag included not only a voucher for free hot food, a well-earned medal, and a cycling cap but also an Easter Egg! A Cadbury Creme Egg Easter Egg – my favourite. ‘Rah! 🙂 And I could also have had gluten free pasta bake but it was taking so long to sort the gluten free pasta for me and another rider, that I realised I was running the risk of falling asleep sat waiting for it, even having had a can of full fat coke, which I didn’t like but probably needed. So having had a chat to Andy Kirk, who’d sorted my place, I headed back to the car to load up and go home. I’d have had a shower first, the option was there, but I decided I’d rather sort myself out chez moi. Well, there was cold beer in my fridge 😉

It was a very good day out on the bike. Sunny, scenic, well-organised, and a real challenge, that I think I rose to. I am still a happy bunny about it. Not the Easter Bunny though 😉 Disappointingly I was slower than I thought, as according to the results I was further down the pack than usual. But hey, on the upside there were far more girls than usual too, which was great to see – around 10% on the long route and more like 25% on the medium route – which is very rare. It wasn’t all great out there today though. There were some pretty grotty lanes out there, a couple of dodgy descents, and some interesting patch resurfacing which was leaving the puncture-stricken parked up left and right, if not centre. I didn’t enjoy the two stretches on the A419 much either, as it had far too much holiday traffic on it, and didn’t compare well with the quieter scenic country lanes, even if it was faster and flatter! But let’s face it, where do we get good roads over here these days anyway? Overall it’s a really good event. And it only cost £28… Just saying 😉

These are the contents of my head

Alan and I had a plan to ride today. But the forecast was lousy overall, and ever worse for later in the day, and we don’t really do early. He bailed. However I did want to ride, as the prospect of a third home workout in a row was not appealing. But left to my own devices, as I was, the chances were I would bail too. So I pinged Chris, who happens to be on holiday this week, and as he’d bailed on his long ride plan for the same reasons, we made a Plan B. OK, so it meant an earlier start, but I’ve been sleeping rather a lot later and actually welcomed an excuse to set the alarm. Which would explain why last night I couldn’t get to sleep for feckin’ ages and didn’t get half enough shut eye. Whoever Murphy was, he has a lot to answer for!

So I wasn’t precisely grumpy this morning, but I definitely wasn’t perky. Not after my first coffee, nor even after the second coffee when Chris arrived around 9:30am. I was yawny. Which is not an adjective, but will have to do because it’s what you’re getting and I can’t think of a legitimate alternative that I prefer 😉

So, where to go? Well considering the continuing considerable wind, the sensible thing to do from a motivational point of view was to head out into it so it would be behind us on the way back. With the odd hill because always flat is not good from a training point of view. And since the wind was from the west, we decided to do a seaside loop, starting with Shipham Hill. Who’s stupid idea was that anyway? Ah yes, that would be mine. Still, at least I was warm by the time I reached the top. Not warmed up, but warm 😉 And with that under my belt, I was set for the rest, which turned out to be a little flatter than planned, in a make up the route as you go along way. birthday belt

Some rides are just good rides. Unexpectedly for the most part. Chris did enquire at some point if, due to the way I was pushing on, it was one of those days. Nope. And I wasn’t, even if it seemed that way. It’s just that sometimes your legs have it and sometimes they don’t and today they did. So why was it so good? Good question.

A little while ago, after a good start to the year and post-training camp, I was feeling good. Like maybe I could. And then with this latest flare-up, I’d definitely started to feel less good. Like I couldn’t. And the longer the weather was keeping me off the bike too, the worse that “I can’t” feeling was getting. Even if the reasons I couldn’t weren’t/aren’t my fault, it still put a serious dent in my PMA. So getting out there, and discovering that those miles are still in my legs and actually I still can was just fantastic. A real boost. I felt good, and I had a blast. Even up the hills we did do. And especially when that wind was finally behind us *grin*. Yep, definitely a good ride 🙂

Cycling time: 1:58
Distance: 30 miles
Avg: 15.2 mph
ODO: 8615 miles

According to Strava, when it comes to going uphill, I’m putting in the best times I’ve done in over a year, and I’m still getting better. Which is great! I may have started off the day a little less than cheerful, but I’ve been a shiny happy person ever since 😀

Talking of shiny things, it would appear my birthday gifts all had a certain theme. Hence the belt above, from the mob. And the earrings that my folks bought me from Cycling Jewellery. Both of which I may have had a hand in choosing 😉

Spoke unto the wheel

Ok, so I’m a bit behind. But I’ve been a bit busy. And I had a birthday. Excuses, excuses 😉

But I have been riding, though not as much as I’d like. Still, 600 miles for March ain’t bad, right? 😀

I did a seaside loop last Wednesday, handily combining riding the bike with catching up with my fellow Cyclosport writer and friend Sean who was in Weston-super-Mare for work. Coffee at the New Castle in Kewstoke it was then. And a few miles and a few hills 🙂 sand bay view

Cycling time: 1:59
Distance: 30.4 miles
Avg: 15.3 mph
ODO: 8553.7 miles

And as all birthdays should involve riding the bike, and for once the weather pretty much agreed with me, on Friday I did a coffee run with Chris. Coffee at Sweets then. With a few miles and virtually no hills 😉

Cycling time: 1:53
Distance: 31.3 miles
Avg: 16.6 mph
ODO: 8585 miles

Sadly however this Sunday’s ACG ride didn’t happen. On the basis that if I’m going to lead a ride, it’s probably not all that responsible to lead one into gale force winds and rain. It would have been not just unpleasant but also quite possibly dangerous. As the other riders bailed one by one, it became clear that everyone else agreed, so I called it off. Which came as quite a relief to my Dad, who was over to ride with us before our celebratory Sunday lunch at the The Oakhouse. And I can’t say as I was too disappointed either, as I hate wind! Sometimes you just can’t ride 🙂

In the meantime my next sportive – the Cotswold Spring Classic – is on Easter Monday. And maybe I’ll get out this week, if the wind stops blowing a hoolie that is! Today the postman bought me a whole heap of Clif goodies to test and review, so it looks like Monday’s ride will be well-fuelled for a change 😉 And the pain is still lurking, which is a bit of a worry, but I also have some new shiny pills that kinda work and a few days to get it under control. Result! 🙂

The Lionheart 2015

OK, enough with the warm sunny riding, it’s time for a British sportive 😉 In this case, The Lionheart. Again. My fourth, since you can’t really count the one that got snowed out, and the forecast was for dry, chilly, and not much wind. Good start. And having done three rides since my training camp, which had gone pretty well, I was actually sort of looking forward to it. To seeing how I would get on, more than the ride itself, if that makes any sense. I wanted to know if training camps actually work. I was all set for it. Ready to ride 100 miles again.

Well, until Saturday night that is. When the pain made an unwanted, though if I’d thought about it a probably predictable, return. I was really hoping it was just the start of a flare-up, and that it wouldn’t hit full stride for a while…all I needed was 24 hours right? *fingers crossed* ‘n all that. Unsurprisingly I did not sleep well. But I was up at 5:00am with the alarm, still not feeling too bad, and thinking I might get away with it. I’d done most of my faffing the night before, so after the usual coffee and cereal, with some ibuprofen thrown in for good measure, I loaded myself and many layers into the car, and enjoyed the hour’s drive to HQ at Longleat.

Thanks to the pre-entry pack, there’s no need to register on the day for this one. Having said that, it could have been more informative. Although it came with a whole heap of rider number stickers, and the essential timing chip, that was pretty much it and all the actual event information was on-line as a pdf. I’d read it. Some hadn’t. I knew that I was supposed to be there an hour before my entry time, and where there was. That the 100 milers would be leaving before the 100 kmers. And that entry times would be sent out the Tuesday before the event. Well if they were, I didn’t get mine. I did however remember this fact, and checked the entry list on-line, which said that my start time was 8:04am. All of which meant I arrived at around 7:00am, and was marshalled onto the parking on the grass by the event village.

But before we carry on – back to that entry pack. The timing chip is great. Stick it on to the LHS of the helmet – job done. I don’t mind a handlebar number, not that I’m likely to be buying any of the photos that that is mostly used for, and kudos for supplying little cable ties for it too. I quite like the fact that the two distances got different colours for this – red for long, green for short. But the rest of those stickers? Sticker for helmet. Sticker to go around the seat post – which never works with my saddle bag. And a number to be pinned on your back too, though with no pins with which to do so. Which I duly affixed to my jacket because the instructions said I “must”. But what with all the layers, the chances were that this would probably be covered up half the time anyway, so what was the point? I think there may have been some number overkill going on…

event village

Right, back to the paddock. First things first, the toilets of course, before the inevitable queues grew, which they did later on. There were no women only cubicles, unlike last year, but at this point neither this nor queues was an issue, which was good. Then it was back to the car to find some cash, having spotted that Claud the Butler was once again present. I don’t usually do pre-ride coffee, but I’ll make an exception for very good coffee, which is what they do. Plus I kinda know them by now and it’s nice to see a familiar face on days like this. Talking of which, as I was standing in the short queue for my short americano, Rob turned up. I’d forgotten he was doing it – I frequently have a brain like a sieve – and not only was it good to see him, but this was a familiar face that then agreed to ride with me for a bit too – bonus!

Back to the car for proper faffing. It was pretty chilly and it wasn’t due to really warm up, but there was a lot of climbing ahead, and if the sun did come out…ooh, what to wear? I made various decisions and crossed my fingers they’d be the right ones. Just as we were making our way to the start line, I had second thoughts about my tyre pressures and decided to actually do something about it rather than leaving it. Just as well – they were both well down, though I’ve no idea why, and they’ve only been pumped up a week! Rubber inflated, we set off on a little 10 minute ride through the arboretum to get to the start line. Which was a bit weird. Human Race have taken The Lionheart over and clearly made some changes. The Start (and Finish) line is on the main drive now – but facing the house. It’s a lot easier to line riders up here than wiggling them around the house, and this also means they don’t get in the way of arriving traffic or departing riders. But the little ride is a bit of an awkward way to get them there. Anyway, Rob and I were lucky. As we arrived at the start, going past the queue of 100km riders on the right (maybe they hadn’t read the pdf?) we were ushered straight into the back of the next group of 100 milers to be briefed and let go, so we didn’t have to hang around in the cold getting even colder. In fact looking at the results, we were off at 8:04am precisely!

But we didn’t hurtle off. The first four miles are around the estate, and mostly uphill. This is not the nicest way in the world to warm up, and it’s a mistake to push it (not that I could) because it’s too early in the day for that. So Rob kept me company while we slowly bimbled around, failing to see the lions, and then climbing the long hill out of the estate together, passing comment on the many examples of sartorial elegance around us. We were cold. It was cold. Very cold. Which didn’t stop many riders wearing shorts. Or, in the case of one madman, a vest top. Hypothermia anyone?! Once at the top we stopped, stashed gilets, and then out into the country lanes we went. After half an hour of company and tolerance, as I dropped back on a hill, Rob headed off to test out his legs. Not that I was complaining, we were probably both happier doing our own thing, but it was nice to have some company for a little while 🙂

I don’t remember much of the first hour or so. There were various ups and downs, the ups weren’t bothering me too much, and downs are always good. It was all a bit sort of unremarkable, probably because it was grey and cloudy and cold and I hadn’t really warmed up? Life was however starting to get more painful. Which was not great. I was due more painkillers at 10:00am so I started counting down to that. And wondering if 100 miles was in fact going to be doable. No need to make decisions yet though, so keep riding. Eat. Try and think of other things. Keep pedalling. The first foodstop, at the 18 mile mark, came and went, as I didn’t stop as it was too soon for me. We headed west towards familiar territory, and then south. Life got more scenic, with the pretty that is Evercreech, nice climbs and nice views. Somewhere after a climb before Bruton I stopped and took those pills, and realised I didn’t have any more with me, and although I had some of the big guns with me, I can only take those and ride when I’m already on them and accustomed. Otherwise I zonk, and zombies do not ride well. Hm.

Off again, duly mulling things over in my head, and into Bruton for the second (very well stocked) foodstop, 31 miles in, where I did stop. It was brightening up now, if not warming up, which was nice. I ate and drank and sat and thought. And pondered King Alfred’s Tower which was mentally looming 4 miles away, whichever route I was going to do. I decided I’d give the pills until 11:00, see if/how they worked, and then maybe decide what I was going to do afterwards. Time to go and climb that hill then. Another change for this year, and a big improvement, is that this was now a closed road timed hill climb. Ignore the latter bit, it’s the closed road bit that’s important! This is a 1.5 mile climb that gets steeper all the way, and is very narrow, so if a car comes the other way and you have to stop, getting going again can be seriously tricky. Especially if it’s wet which, luckily, today it wasn’t. So closing the road is a very good thing, but it wasn’t going to stop it being hard work! Here we go then. Walkers on the left, riders on the right please. Whatever the pain was doing, I was going to do my best which, as it turns out, slowly but surely got me to the top again. ‘Rah! Of those going up around me, about 95% seemed to end up walking, which was gratifying 😉 It’s one of the climbs where it’s very good knowing you’ve been up it before, because you know it can be done, and you also know where it ends! As I made it to the top, I have to say I was very pleased indeed as I really had thought that today, all things considered, I might have joined those on the left hand side…

The stretch of flat and fast afterwards was lovely, as we headed towards Stourhead. In previous years I’m fairly sure I remember the route going through the estate itself, with all the lovely views and prettiness that entails. Well one of the changes this year, which no doubt pleases the NT grockles but did not please me, was to cut this out and instead go around it by back roads that clearly haven’t seen any road maintenance in quite some time, before bringing us back to the forest bit of Stourhead on the other side. Which, being forestry proper, is not a nice road. It never is. Potholes and dirt and gravel. Now, if you’ve had all the pretty beforehand, this has been known to seem like a fair trade-off. But that not being the case, it was just not nice. OK, so once you’ve climbed out of it, the views are lovely but…

Onwards. I kept thinking maybe I could do the 100 miles. It was a Sunday, the sun was shining, I was feeling pretty good mostly; I could do this, right? And then the knife in my guts would twist again and I’d wonder if I could do the next 100 metres! Clearly the pills weren’t cutting it…and I didn’t have more. Mind you, I figured I could probably buy some en route, so this wasn’t overly concerning me, and I wasn’t due anymore for a while anyway. But I was heading for the route split, so decisions needed to be made. And it hurt. It was SO annoying. Because I was feeling pretty strong otherwise. I was doing the hills. I was flying on the flat and holding my own with other riders, and enjoying feeling good on the bike when I did. But…

third food stop

After a few miles on main roads, where just like last year (but without the hail) I led a little peloton for a while, we reached the food stop, at 49 miles, at Yapp’s in Mere again. It’s a nice place, a real sun trap too, and it was great to sit and feel warm for a while. There was lots on offer to eat and drink, including wine and cheese! Many people were debating what to do whilst milling around, as this was also where the route splits. Sadly I’d pretty much decided that it was going to have to be the 100km. Another 15 miles sounded a lot better than another 50, and a bit of me was wondering if I’d even manage that. I had a thought though…and headed off to see the ambulance guys, parked up outside. I expect they’re more used to dealing with dodgy knees and sore bums than they are my kind of problem but they were ever so helpful. Although all I’d initially asked for was ibuprofen to take a bit later, they actually gave me something stronger that I could take there and then. I wish I could remember what it was! Apparently it’s less strong than tramadol, so with less zombie effect, but better than ibuprofen and lasts 6-8 hours. I may need to get my hands on some of that for future use; something to ask the Doctor about methinks.

Deciding to take the shorter route means a long climb out of Mere which I remember hating last year. It didn’t bother me this year, I even completed some of the slowest over-taking manoeuvres you’ll ever see to get past some other riders 😉 I did know the next bit was lovely and that the rest of it wasn’t going to be too much trouble either, which probably helped. In fact I really enjoyed the last hour. The pain receded slowly. The sun was out and I was flying. After a little while over-taking lots of people, I picked up another rider, and we took turns to pretty much race back. Well that’s what it felt like anyway. There was no need to hold anything back now, so I figured I might as well go all out and get back 🙂

I’d dropped him, and a few others we acquired, just before the end, as we reached the final sprint down the drive. I took photos and then decided sprinting would be more fun. I think he tried to catch me…but I also think I won 😉 I was grinning as I collected my medal, shook his hand, and toddled off to tell the timing man I’d bailed. He already knew, and by the time I got back to the event village I’d had a text with my official time too!

I hung up my bike, collected my goody bag, and headed for the food tent, ostensibly in search of fizzy orange. Which had to be 7Up because of that they had none. But the free hotpot on offer turned out to be vegetarian bean hotpot that was also gluten and dairy free! Whilst probably not 100% safe, I wasn’t sure what I’d be eating for dinner later, so I figured I’d risk it. Very nice it was too 🙂

Whilst eating in my little corner of the marquee I inspected the contents of the goody bag, which weren’t that goody really. Lots of free samples of things with the odd voucher and a magazine thrown in. No souvenir tube scarf this year, which was a shame, and another change made for the worse I think. Especially when you consider that this sportive costs £42. Yes, £42! That’s £6 more than last year. With other similar, and equally well run, events coming in around the £30 mark, I really don’t know what that extra £12 buys you. There was some email earlier in the year putting the increase down to VAT or some such, but that really doesn’t explain it. It wasn’t cheap to start with! Yes it’s a good event, and it’s well run, but I’m afraid I just don’t think that it’s value for money.

So, not a great day at the office. My official time is 5:05, showing that I wasted 40 minutes at foodstops and various other I need to take a break stops. Without the pain I reckon I’d have had a good one though; I certainly felt like the potential was there. But it’s hard to focus on the riding when your body is trying to curl itself into foetal position, and you can’t concentrate on anything outside your insides. Ho hum. However my average speed is well up on last year’s, in fact Strava says I did most of it better than last year, so I’ll take that as a positive, remember the bits I did enjoy and that I could do, and take that on with me to the next one. 100 miles this time, right? PMA 🙂

Cycling time: 4:24
Distance: 61.6 miles
Avg: 14.0 mph
ODO: 8523.3 miles