So Christmas is over again, the mince pies have been dispatched and the weather has returned to normal - wind and rain! The motivation to get out on the bike plummets around this time of year anyway, but the sight and sound of rain splattering against panes of glass makes the process of setting up a turbo session particularly difficult. And it's turbo I'm stuck with until I pick up my rebuilt OpenPro wheels in the next couple of days (unless I want to look like a complete chump cycling round in winter on deep-section Mavic Cosmics). The OpenPro rims had finally got to that stage where they were getting a little worn. I've seen what happens if you let the rims get too worn - a huge explosive 'crack' and a large part of the rim shearing off. Luckily for me I've only seen this happen to other cyclists, and luckily for them it has always been when at a standstill rather than during a 45mph descent.
I managed to get out to Hillingdon on Boxing Day for the 3rds race. The course was pretty wet and a bit muddy (not a great combination) and the racing was quite restrained. A small group got away right at the start and the bunch showed no intention of giving chase, expecting the riders to come back pretty easily. Kudos to the two who stayed away the whole race and to a strong Kingston rider who tried to bridge about halfway through the race. I don't think he quite made it but he did stay away from the bunch to take 3rd place, showing some good determination. I like that kind of riding, it shows the benefits of trying something a bit different. I did my usual thing of sitting in the middle/rear of the bunch for the majority of the race, only trying something with about 6 laps to go (a half-hearted attempt to break with one other Willesden rider). We merely towed the bunch faster until the final lap, but at least it qualified as some sort of workout. I sat up coming up to the line as I was pretty much spent, but not as quickly as one rider, who simply stopped pedalling and sat up in the middle of the final straight, thus going from 30mph to about 10mph in about a second. When will people learn that it is really dangerous to do that? A few extra seconds of half-hearted effort to slow down gradually wouldn't have killed him! I spent most of the race thinking about my position on the bike, which feels a little too 'bunched' - I'll have to experiment with saddle positions over the next few days, perhaps trying to raise and/or move the position back a few mm at a time.
Considering the fact that it was the day after Christmas I'm not surprised the race pace was a little off. I suspect most were feeling like me - too little sleep, too much food and drink. I've certainly done my fair share of TV lounging - biggest hit in our family was The Gruffalo, biggest disappointment was the Royal Family. I used to really enjoy the enforced claustrophobia of watching the family in a single front room (and occasionally the kitchen or the bathroom). The closeness of the family and the lack of distraction (other than the TV, of course) meant the clever script was left to shine. How different it all seemed when they were taken out of their 'home' environment for this episode. The scriptwriting was dreadful too - loads of padding, lots of 'thanks Dave, thanks Jim' cobblers. Dreadful.
We went to see Avatar too over the Christmas hols (in 3D at the HMV Curzon in Wimbledon). The tickets are a little more expensive and the screen smaller than in a multiplex, but there's a bar, you're allowed to take drinks (real drinks) into the cinema and there's a distinct lack of popcorn-chomping, mobile phone checking, loudly commenting viewers. The film was very good - Cameron has created a magical dreamworld in Pandora and it's the first film I've seen where the benefits of the 3D outweigh the drawbacks of wearing uncomfortable glasses. The effects and animation are stunning, the story a little predictable (but that's not the point of the film really). The planet is being mined for Unobtanium - I though that was an Oakley trademark for the grippy material on the nosepieces of their sunglasses! They missed a trick - they could have provided some properly comfortable eyewear for the film!
Got me thinking though ... I wish I had a suitable avatar for racing...
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Nearly Christmas
Christmas cheer is nearly here! Winter has arrived as well, perfectly timed to coincide with my slack cycling period – motivation seems to go out of the window in December. My commute becomes a bit of a trial and I tend to be just about warmed up by the time I arrive at work, which I’m sure does my fitness no good whatsoever. In fact there have only been a few instances when I have pushed myself – mainly on the turbo in the garden doing 2x20 minutes or long steady intervals, and once at the Hillingdon Imperial Winter Series (Race 2). I may go back for more as it’s useful training, but it depends on the weather over the next few weeks.
The race was a typical 3rd Cat affair – not especially fast, the usual Hillingdon wind that made it tough on the front, the usual moaners mid-pack who complained about the slowdown into the wind but made no effort to pull through and do any work, and unfortunately the usual crash. I was glad not to be involved and just managed to avoid the fallout of bikes cartwheeling over the circuit on the final straight, coming in over the line around mid-bunch. Still, first race since breaking my wrist and finger at the beginning of the summer and I felt pretty good at the end. It was the first time I’ve really ridden with any kind of group since June (all my riding has been solo training or with one or two other riders) so, although it took a few laps to get used to the closeness of the bunch, the drafting benefits made it feel pretty easy compared to my usual solo slog out to Chertsey and back (recently there has been a headwind for at least ¾ of the journey).
I’m looking forward to turkey, whisky and chocolates over the next few weeks. I’ll see if the extra mass makes any difference in the New Year!
The race was a typical 3rd Cat affair – not especially fast, the usual Hillingdon wind that made it tough on the front, the usual moaners mid-pack who complained about the slowdown into the wind but made no effort to pull through and do any work, and unfortunately the usual crash. I was glad not to be involved and just managed to avoid the fallout of bikes cartwheeling over the circuit on the final straight, coming in over the line around mid-bunch. Still, first race since breaking my wrist and finger at the beginning of the summer and I felt pretty good at the end. It was the first time I’ve really ridden with any kind of group since June (all my riding has been solo training or with one or two other riders) so, although it took a few laps to get used to the closeness of the bunch, the drafting benefits made it feel pretty easy compared to my usual solo slog out to Chertsey and back (recently there has been a headwind for at least ¾ of the journey).
I’m looking forward to turkey, whisky and chocolates over the next few weeks. I’ll see if the extra mass makes any difference in the New Year!
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Churning away
Finding time to update here is getting harder and harder, what with the combined pressures of work and family. We’re well into the winter illness season now, and the house seems to be forever full of the sounds of coughing, sniffing and sneezing! I’ve amazingly managed to stay illness-free up until now…
Today was supposed to mark the day I am officially discharged off the books from St George’s Hospital, 6 months after breaking my wrist and finger, and just over 4 months after the operation to insert the screw in the scaphoid bone. In fact I need to go back in Feb next year for a CT scan to check that the bone is growing around the fracture - at the moment the screw is holding things together well, so I'm really hoping this is simply a precautionary measure - the consultant seemed pretty pleased with progress. The wrist is still a bit sore, especially in the cold weather, and the mobility is a little reduced. Hitting potholes on the bike also hurts a lot more than it used to.
As far as riding goes, I’ve been churning out to Chertsey on the Dynamo route at least once a week, usually alone. It’s easier not to have to hang around for anyone else at the start, it’s a good workout as a solo ride, I can judge my speed into the roundabouts as I see fit (I like to make sure that the entry is safe, which I feel I cannot do in a group at +25mph in the dark) and, most importantly this time of year, I can make a last-minute decision to go based upon the weather. It is a bit lonely though, and someone remarked that it showed all the signs of someone in triathlon training!!!
Other than that I’ve been following a regular routine of commuting every day and fitting in a couple of turbo sessions each week, aiming mainly at long-ish intervals around the 260W mark. I’m still undecided as to whether to take part in the Hillingdon Winter Series this year. I did a couple of rides last year which I treated as fast training rides – I’m never going to stand much of a chance against Elite and 1st Cats. This year there seems to be the choice of either riding the E123 or doing the 3rds only, which looks like it combines with the 4ths race - usually a recipe for disaster at Hillingdon!
Next project at home – I really need to buy bikes for the kids after Christmas, mainly for short rides on Wimbledon Common. So I’ll be needing to buy a ‘cross bike or a MTB then! And of course there’s the ever-present need to find a house. And no-one’s selling. Frustrating.
Today was supposed to mark the day I am officially discharged off the books from St George’s Hospital, 6 months after breaking my wrist and finger, and just over 4 months after the operation to insert the screw in the scaphoid bone. In fact I need to go back in Feb next year for a CT scan to check that the bone is growing around the fracture - at the moment the screw is holding things together well, so I'm really hoping this is simply a precautionary measure - the consultant seemed pretty pleased with progress. The wrist is still a bit sore, especially in the cold weather, and the mobility is a little reduced. Hitting potholes on the bike also hurts a lot more than it used to.
As far as riding goes, I’ve been churning out to Chertsey on the Dynamo route at least once a week, usually alone. It’s easier not to have to hang around for anyone else at the start, it’s a good workout as a solo ride, I can judge my speed into the roundabouts as I see fit (I like to make sure that the entry is safe, which I feel I cannot do in a group at +25mph in the dark) and, most importantly this time of year, I can make a last-minute decision to go based upon the weather. It is a bit lonely though, and someone remarked that it showed all the signs of someone in triathlon training!!!
Other than that I’ve been following a regular routine of commuting every day and fitting in a couple of turbo sessions each week, aiming mainly at long-ish intervals around the 260W mark. I’m still undecided as to whether to take part in the Hillingdon Winter Series this year. I did a couple of rides last year which I treated as fast training rides – I’m never going to stand much of a chance against Elite and 1st Cats. This year there seems to be the choice of either riding the E123 or doing the 3rds only, which looks like it combines with the 4ths race - usually a recipe for disaster at Hillingdon!
Next project at home – I really need to buy bikes for the kids after Christmas, mainly for short rides on Wimbledon Common. So I’ll be needing to buy a ‘cross bike or a MTB then! And of course there’s the ever-present need to find a house. And no-one’s selling. Frustrating.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Tifosi completed
Well, I finally finished my winter/commuter bike. It looks (hmmmm) ... sensible. Reliable. Not the most exciting bike ever to be honest. It is fully ready for commuting and dark evening riding - plenty of lights attached, full length mudguards and my old OpenPro wheels - a real trooper of a bike! I'm going to ride it for the first time tomorrow on my commute, so I'm hoping that all the gear indexing, headset adjustment and brake setting I did in the comfort of the home doesn't go wrong on the road. I've put a pair of latex gloves in my rucksack in case I get oily hands from adjusting the chain because - WHAT WAS I THINKING - I've put white bar tape on a winter bike. Actually I messed up the first tape (Fizik black tape) and found out that you can't readjust it without tearing the edges, so the spare Fizik white I had lying around came onto the scene!
Just as I was finishing the bike (and the rest of the family were finishing breakfast) I looked up to see a pigeon fly at speed at our house. It must have been confused by the reflections of the trees in the window. So we were all treated to the sight of a bird dying (luckily quite quickly) from sudden impact in the garden whilst finishing breakfast. The kids were surprisingly sanguine about the whole thing and insisted on accompanying me outside for the burial in a shallow grave in the back garden. My wife and I asked if they wanted to say anything and my daughter suggested that we sing either Happy Birthday or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Hmmm, strange! I got a really horrified look from my wife when I suggested that we could have eaten the pigeon. I don't know why - it looked pretty healthy, and pan-fried with some black pudding and a red wine jus - delicious. But a little insensitive maybe, bearing in mind I would have had to dig it up again! RIP, Mr Pigeon
Just as I was finishing the bike (and the rest of the family were finishing breakfast) I looked up to see a pigeon fly at speed at our house. It must have been confused by the reflections of the trees in the window. So we were all treated to the sight of a bird dying (luckily quite quickly) from sudden impact in the garden whilst finishing breakfast. The kids were surprisingly sanguine about the whole thing and insisted on accompanying me outside for the burial in a shallow grave in the back garden. My wife and I asked if they wanted to say anything and my daughter suggested that we sing either Happy Birthday or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Hmmm, strange! I got a really horrified look from my wife when I suggested that we could have eaten the pigeon. I don't know why - it looked pretty healthy, and pan-fried with some black pudding and a red wine jus - delicious. But a little insensitive maybe, bearing in mind I would have had to dig it up again! RIP, Mr Pigeon
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Under construction
I’ve started to assemble my replacement winter bike. The basis is the Tifosi audax frame in battleship grey – it looks really drab! Oh well, at least it was cheap. I’ve got the 105 groupset along with 3T bars and stem. I’ll be reusing my OpenPro wheels, Shimano Ultegra SPD-SL pedals and Selle Italia SLR XP saddle. It’ll be fitted with full mudguards and I’ll be growing a beard and putting a wicker basket on the front. Rack, panniers, full length frame pump and a map holder. Are you allowed to race with a whicker handlebar basket?
So far it’s been reasonably easy to assemble. The only tricky bit (yet to do) is to cut down the carbon steerer on the front fork. I know, I know – measure three times, cut once. I’ve also had to order long-reach brakes (should have thought that one out before I ordered the 105 group) so will be eBaying the original brakes.
I did my first session in ages on the turbo as well last Sunday, which I really enjoyed. The break from something that seemed to be my nemesis for most of the summer has served me well and I hit the intervals with a new-found enthusiasm. I’m thinking of doing fewer long, steady rides over the winter and trying to fit in a quality turbo session each weekend. It allows for more time with the family and can be done at any time of the day (I hate early starts on winter weekends). Doing the intervals is really good for judging my RPE too, because the kids come out and talk to me. So I can gauge how hard I am going (without looking at the Powertap) by seeing if I can explain why it is fair for them to have different toys and no, the TV remote should not be controlled solely by my daughter in a) paragraphs, b) sentences, c) phrases or d) frantic finger-wagging and gasps!
I’ll post some pictures of the new bike next time – hopefully I will be using it for the commuting in a week or so, and my old Scott will be consigned to turbo-only duty.
So far it’s been reasonably easy to assemble. The only tricky bit (yet to do) is to cut down the carbon steerer on the front fork. I know, I know – measure three times, cut once. I’ve also had to order long-reach brakes (should have thought that one out before I ordered the 105 group) so will be eBaying the original brakes.
I did my first session in ages on the turbo as well last Sunday, which I really enjoyed. The break from something that seemed to be my nemesis for most of the summer has served me well and I hit the intervals with a new-found enthusiasm. I’m thinking of doing fewer long, steady rides over the winter and trying to fit in a quality turbo session each weekend. It allows for more time with the family and can be done at any time of the day (I hate early starts on winter weekends). Doing the intervals is really good for judging my RPE too, because the kids come out and talk to me. So I can gauge how hard I am going (without looking at the Powertap) by seeing if I can explain why it is fair for them to have different toys and no, the TV remote should not be controlled solely by my daughter in a) paragraphs, b) sentences, c) phrases or d) frantic finger-wagging and gasps!
I’ll post some pictures of the new bike next time – hopefully I will be using it for the commuting in a week or so, and my old Scott will be consigned to turbo-only duty.
Monday, 21 September 2009
Tour of Britain
I managed to persuade one of my sons to come with me to watch the final stage of the Tour of Britain on Saturday. The weather was great and I only had to use mild bribery to get him to come with me – “You’ll be watching some of the fastest men on bikes in the world. And I’ll bring snacks”.
So we set off on Saturday lunchtime for Waterloo, my son carrying his Mr Men book for the journey, and me carrying my backpack containing one sunhat, one waterproof rain coat, two packets of crisps (cheese and onion), two large sausage rolls, one chicken, bacon and sweetcorn sandwich, four digestive biscuits, four bourbon biscuits, one litre of water, two carrots, 200g of Japanese rice crackers, two Pepperamis, one Lucozade Sport and one can of Diet Coke. Enough for at least a couple of hours (my son is like the Hungry Caterpillar)!
We watched about half the race from the Embankment, alternating between the birdseye view from Hungerford Bridge and the street level view. It was great to see the Embankment closed to traffic for a change – the city actually felt reasonably peaceful for a change (apart from the 20 or so support cars bombing past every lap).
After about 5 laps my son started to get a little bored, so I suggested that we go to the park instead for a bit. As we walked up towards the finish line (at the 200m to go sign) my son spotted the giant TV screen. Now this was different – watching live was OK, but getting to watch the race on a giant telly – amazing! Unfortunately he couldn’t see unless I held him up, so I spent the second half of the race straining to hold him high enough that he could see whilst still leaning forwards far enough that I could see the bunch approaching. The pumping dance music and loud commentary kept my son’s attention enough that we stayed to the end to see the Barloworld rider Merlo win the sprint finish (I saw it live, my son saw it second hand on the giant telly, which he didn’t take his eyes off despite the peloton speeding by every lap)!
I got some pictures just before the start and during one of the breakaways (the Geoffroy Lequatre one) which I’ve posted on the right hand side of this page.
We had a great day out. My son described it thus to my wife:
Wife: “Hi Arun, how was your day then?”
Arun: “Great”
Wife: “What did you get up to?”
Arun: “Great things”
That’s it! Only topped by the discussion the two of us had on the bus on the way home:
Me: “So Arun, did you enjoy the race?”
Arun: “Yes, it was great. I liked the snacks. Dad, who won?”
Me: “Well, a man called Boassen Hagen won overall, and the sprint today was won by an Italian rider but I can’t remember his name”
Arun: “Probably David Beckham, or something?”
Me: “Yeah, something like that!”
Tomorrow marks a momentous day - I can officially race as a Vet! I think it is fair to say that I will be feeling my age the day after...
So we set off on Saturday lunchtime for Waterloo, my son carrying his Mr Men book for the journey, and me carrying my backpack containing one sunhat, one waterproof rain coat, two packets of crisps (cheese and onion), two large sausage rolls, one chicken, bacon and sweetcorn sandwich, four digestive biscuits, four bourbon biscuits, one litre of water, two carrots, 200g of Japanese rice crackers, two Pepperamis, one Lucozade Sport and one can of Diet Coke. Enough for at least a couple of hours (my son is like the Hungry Caterpillar)!
We watched about half the race from the Embankment, alternating between the birdseye view from Hungerford Bridge and the street level view. It was great to see the Embankment closed to traffic for a change – the city actually felt reasonably peaceful for a change (apart from the 20 or so support cars bombing past every lap).
After about 5 laps my son started to get a little bored, so I suggested that we go to the park instead for a bit. As we walked up towards the finish line (at the 200m to go sign) my son spotted the giant TV screen. Now this was different – watching live was OK, but getting to watch the race on a giant telly – amazing! Unfortunately he couldn’t see unless I held him up, so I spent the second half of the race straining to hold him high enough that he could see whilst still leaning forwards far enough that I could see the bunch approaching. The pumping dance music and loud commentary kept my son’s attention enough that we stayed to the end to see the Barloworld rider Merlo win the sprint finish (I saw it live, my son saw it second hand on the giant telly, which he didn’t take his eyes off despite the peloton speeding by every lap)!
I got some pictures just before the start and during one of the breakaways (the Geoffroy Lequatre one) which I’ve posted on the right hand side of this page.
We had a great day out. My son described it thus to my wife:
Wife: “Hi Arun, how was your day then?”
Arun: “Great”
Wife: “What did you get up to?”
Arun: “Great things”
That’s it! Only topped by the discussion the two of us had on the bus on the way home:
Me: “So Arun, did you enjoy the race?”
Arun: “Yes, it was great. I liked the snacks. Dad, who won?”
Me: “Well, a man called Boassen Hagen won overall, and the sprint today was won by an Italian rider but I can’t remember his name”
Arun: “Probably David Beckham, or something?”
Me: “Yeah, something like that!”
Tomorrow marks a momentous day - I can officially race as a Vet! I think it is fair to say that I will be feeling my age the day after...
Cast off
Well, it’s been a while – that’s what happens when you start working and cycling again!
Things have been going pretty well – I got the all-clear from the consultant that my scaphoid bone was healing well (now that it had the titanium screw holding things together) a few weeks ago and celebrated with a couple of laps of Richmond Park. Two things struck me immediately – wind resistance and hills! Turbo life can’t match the experience and, much as I always struggle to haul my bulk uphill, I found myself enjoying the climbing experience so much that I doubled back just to take another shot at Broomfield Hill. Good job too that I made the most of it - recently they've resurfaced the park roads, making them (temporarily) dangerous beyond belief.
Since then I’ve also started commuting again – I’d forgotten all about the competitiveness of London commuter cyclists! There are busy sections of the Kennington Park Road where it’s like a dragstrip – riders head down, arse up, punishing themselves to the next red light. Fun, but dangerous…
I have no riding plans for the rest of the year other than a few club runs and commuting. I honestly cannot face the turbo again yet, so will keep myself content with regular steady base miles. Next year I want to catch up on all the riding I missed this year – some more racing (Palace, Eelmore, Surrey League road races) and the sportives (La Marmotte, Southern, Highclere) and maybe a longer continental trip or the club sportive.
Oh, and I’m thinking about building a new winter/training bike. The Scott is on it’s last legs so I’ll salvage the wheels, pedals and saddle, buy a new group, headset, seatpost, handlebars and stem and attach them all to this (maybe):
I’ll need a fork as well. Good excuse for some online shopping!
Cheap and cheerful, robust and not too ugly. Can take full mudguards or I’ll probably give the new Crud Guards a go. Should be perfect. Now, where’s that toolbox…
Things have been going pretty well – I got the all-clear from the consultant that my scaphoid bone was healing well (now that it had the titanium screw holding things together) a few weeks ago and celebrated with a couple of laps of Richmond Park. Two things struck me immediately – wind resistance and hills! Turbo life can’t match the experience and, much as I always struggle to haul my bulk uphill, I found myself enjoying the climbing experience so much that I doubled back just to take another shot at Broomfield Hill. Good job too that I made the most of it - recently they've resurfaced the park roads, making them (temporarily) dangerous beyond belief.
Since then I’ve also started commuting again – I’d forgotten all about the competitiveness of London commuter cyclists! There are busy sections of the Kennington Park Road where it’s like a dragstrip – riders head down, arse up, punishing themselves to the next red light. Fun, but dangerous…
I have no riding plans for the rest of the year other than a few club runs and commuting. I honestly cannot face the turbo again yet, so will keep myself content with regular steady base miles. Next year I want to catch up on all the riding I missed this year – some more racing (Palace, Eelmore, Surrey League road races) and the sportives (La Marmotte, Southern, Highclere) and maybe a longer continental trip or the club sportive.
Oh, and I’m thinking about building a new winter/training bike. The Scott is on it’s last legs so I’ll salvage the wheels, pedals and saddle, buy a new group, headset, seatpost, handlebars and stem and attach them all to this (maybe):
I’ll need a fork as well. Good excuse for some online shopping!
Cheap and cheerful, robust and not too ugly. Can take full mudguards or I’ll probably give the new Crud Guards a go. Should be perfect. Now, where’s that toolbox…
Monday, 24 August 2009
Two very late nights in a row, too much to eat and drink, too little sleep. These were my main regrets when my wife bashed me on the arm at 4:30am on Sunday morning to say that the alarm was going off. Why is this happening to me? Confusion soon gave way to the usual rushing around, trying to force coffee down whilst getting dressed, find car keys, wallet, phone and house keys. Two things were different this morning though – firstly I had no bike kit or bike to worry about as I wasn’t going to be cycling and secondly this was no road race, but the second of the London Dynamo pilot Richmond Park Time Trials. And I had volunteered to marshal, along with about 30 others.
Was I ever glad not to be riding! I was so tired just standing there directing riders around the corner (I didn’t think directions would be necessary, but at least three riders breathlessly whispered “Which way” as they approached the roundabout). Beautiful thing, the way the early morning light catches the stream of snot dripping from a rider’s nose!
The TT seemed to go really well and there were a lot of positive comments. I found time whilst marshalling to take some snaps – they really don’t do justice to the event and in particular the stunning location. Richmond Park is a beautiful place and was made so much better by the lack of traffic noise – for the first 45 minutes the only sound was the thrum of rear disc wheels. I really hope the park authorities take note of the success of the two events and allow more TTs next year - especially because I want to ride in one!
Another hospital visit tomorrow to check that my wrist has healed. If so I will be straight on the bike for a few easy laps of Richmond Park – anything to avoid another turbo session! Here’s hoping…
Was I ever glad not to be riding! I was so tired just standing there directing riders around the corner (I didn’t think directions would be necessary, but at least three riders breathlessly whispered “Which way” as they approached the roundabout). Beautiful thing, the way the early morning light catches the stream of snot dripping from a rider’s nose!
The TT seemed to go really well and there were a lot of positive comments. I found time whilst marshalling to take some snaps – they really don’t do justice to the event and in particular the stunning location. Richmond Park is a beautiful place and was made so much better by the lack of traffic noise – for the first 45 minutes the only sound was the thrum of rear disc wheels. I really hope the park authorities take note of the success of the two events and allow more TTs next year - especially because I want to ride in one!
Another hospital visit tomorrow to check that my wrist has healed. If so I will be straight on the bike for a few easy laps of Richmond Park – anything to avoid another turbo session! Here’s hoping…
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Keep on moving
Well it has been a while. Not much activity on the bike front other than putting in 5 turbo sessions per week, 1hr or so each session. I am having to really mix up sessions just to keep the interest up - some of them simply turn into a 240W average for 1hr churn away type activity (on lazy days make that 210W!). Others are more targetted, with shorter more intense intervals. I don't think I'm loosing too much fitness, but I have a couple of concerns - I am putting on a little weight ("so what?" my wife says), I may pass out when I get back on the road if I have to ride for more than one hour, and my playlist on the iPod Nano is in dire need of updating. At some point I'll get round to calculating just how much time I've spent in the garden going nowhere!
Other areas of life have been busier. I started a new contract at LloydsTSB in London Bridge - a very interesting project, and a great part of London to work in - Borough Market is about 2 minutes away, which means endless opportunities for great food. Good food, interesting work, a decent commute - not bad at all! It will be better still when I can actually get back on the bike for the commute.
We're also moving imminently. Hopefully we'll exchange in the next couple of days, at which point we have to firm up a rental. We've seen a fair few and I'm balancing the desire for a nice neighbourhood, decent quality interiors (we're going to be renting), enough rooms for the kids with a spare room for guests, and room for bike storage (this is obviously of paramount importance). The trouble is that I'm sure my wife is looking at same areas which I'm considering for bike storage and thinking - "hmmm, ironing board, laundry baskets and drying racks".
I attended the London Dynamo summer social last week as well. Sore heads all round! It was nice to see a lot of familiar faces and some new ones - I haven't been on the road in two months and forgot what a generally amiable bunch we all were! Half the club seem to have been to Ventoux to see the penultimate stage of the Tour - lucky sods! And talking of the Tour, my last day of relaxation prior to the new contract at Lloyds coincided with the Champs-Elysees speed-fest - well done Cavendish, what a way to sign off! The real star was Wiggins though (as far as I'm concerned anyway). He's a cool dude and a great rider who has improved on the road massively in the past year. Contador and Andy Schleck both looked as stong as ever too. Oh, and Armstrong didn't do too badly either! A good first week overall for Le Tour, a slightly dull second week, and then heroics in the third week. Great vewing overall.
Maybe 3 weeks until I try a road ride (depending on xrays to show that the titanium screw is doing the business on the scaphoid). I can hardly wait...
Other areas of life have been busier. I started a new contract at LloydsTSB in London Bridge - a very interesting project, and a great part of London to work in - Borough Market is about 2 minutes away, which means endless opportunities for great food. Good food, interesting work, a decent commute - not bad at all! It will be better still when I can actually get back on the bike for the commute.
We're also moving imminently. Hopefully we'll exchange in the next couple of days, at which point we have to firm up a rental. We've seen a fair few and I'm balancing the desire for a nice neighbourhood, decent quality interiors (we're going to be renting), enough rooms for the kids with a spare room for guests, and room for bike storage (this is obviously of paramount importance). The trouble is that I'm sure my wife is looking at same areas which I'm considering for bike storage and thinking - "hmmm, ironing board, laundry baskets and drying racks".
I attended the London Dynamo summer social last week as well. Sore heads all round! It was nice to see a lot of familiar faces and some new ones - I haven't been on the road in two months and forgot what a generally amiable bunch we all were! Half the club seem to have been to Ventoux to see the penultimate stage of the Tour - lucky sods! And talking of the Tour, my last day of relaxation prior to the new contract at Lloyds coincided with the Champs-Elysees speed-fest - well done Cavendish, what a way to sign off! The real star was Wiggins though (as far as I'm concerned anyway). He's a cool dude and a great rider who has improved on the road massively in the past year. Contador and Andy Schleck both looked as stong as ever too. Oh, and Armstrong didn't do too badly either! A good first week overall for Le Tour, a slightly dull second week, and then heroics in the third week. Great vewing overall.
Maybe 3 weeks until I try a road ride (depending on xrays to show that the titanium screw is doing the business on the scaphoid). I can hardly wait...
Monday, 20 July 2009
Holidays in the Borders
I've had a great past week - no cycling at all and plenty of relaxation and family time in Coldingham, just over the border into Scotland. We were really lucky with the weather- a few sharp showers but overall plenty of sunny intervals (as they say in BBC weathercaster-speak). The break was just what I needed given the tender state of my wrist and I was able to get away with doing very little to put any strain on my recovering bones (thanks to FHB & GF). The kids also had a great time - the beach was a 3 minute walk away, the shoreline was gently sloping and the scenery was stunning. Here's a picture of the view we woke up to every morning (minus the kids - we didn't make them sleep outside overnight, honest)!
I feel that I'm slowly putting on a bit of weight, what with limited cycling on the turbo and a newfound enjoyment of the relaxing effects of alcohol. I like to think of it as a "Reverse Wiggins" that might make me more powerful on the flat. This week is my last free week before I start a new contract and I will get to see the last week of the Tour on TV. Overall it's been a little dull so far I think. There have been some highlights - Cav obliterating the opposition, Contador's surges, the odd peloton split and the ever-present possibility of a break sticking and meaning something (bad luck Hincapie) - but overall I feel the lack of mountaintop finishes has served only to dull the opposition until the penultimate Ventoux stage. There is one massive plus though - Bradley Wiggins has been simply superb. He's a pretty cool and laid-back character and his climbing has been top-class this July. I really hope he makes the podium on Sunday - he fully deserves it. I'm sure he doesn't really miss beer all that much!
Tomorrow is time for another therapy session at St.George's Hospital - it will be the first time in 6 weeks that I will be removing this hard thermo-plastic style cast to do some rotation and flexing rather than simply to clean the cast and my arm. I can't wait!
I feel that I'm slowly putting on a bit of weight, what with limited cycling on the turbo and a newfound enjoyment of the relaxing effects of alcohol. I like to think of it as a "Reverse Wiggins" that might make me more powerful on the flat. This week is my last free week before I start a new contract and I will get to see the last week of the Tour on TV. Overall it's been a little dull so far I think. There have been some highlights - Cav obliterating the opposition, Contador's surges, the odd peloton split and the ever-present possibility of a break sticking and meaning something (bad luck Hincapie) - but overall I feel the lack of mountaintop finishes has served only to dull the opposition until the penultimate Ventoux stage. There is one massive plus though - Bradley Wiggins has been simply superb. He's a pretty cool and laid-back character and his climbing has been top-class this July. I really hope he makes the podium on Sunday - he fully deserves it. I'm sure he doesn't really miss beer all that much!
Tomorrow is time for another therapy session at St.George's Hospital - it will be the first time in 6 weeks that I will be removing this hard thermo-plastic style cast to do some rotation and flexing rather than simply to clean the cast and my arm. I can't wait!
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
Screwed up
hmmm, screws, wires, general anaesthetic, bandages and slings - kids call me 'slingsby' - typing with one hand again, pain and painkillers, lots to get done but an inability to do anything. yup, i'm back to the start again, one day after the op to stabilise the bones in my wrist. off to st.george's hospital for a post-op check again tomorrow. fed up, but at least my internal hardware is titanium!
no turbo for at least a week, new job starting soon, moving house imminently. not ideal...
no turbo for at least a week, new job starting soon, moving house imminently. not ideal...
Friday, 3 July 2009
No progress, in fact the opposite...
So, just after four weeks into the fractured wrist and broken finger scenario I went for another x-ray at St.George's Hospital. On the plus side my little finger on the right hand is healing well, and I now have about 75% of the range of movement back. Hopefully over the next few months this will progress to about 90% or more.
The left wrist, on the other hand (!), is a bit of a disaster. The fracture to the scaphoid bone does not show any signs of healing - in fact the fracture has enlarged. There also looks to be an 'irregularity' around the lunate bone. Before all this I had no idea how many bones there were in the wrist:
Quite a few! Anyhow, the upshot is that I am scheduled for surgery in four days time to have a screw put into the scaphoid, and in all probability another put into the lunate. The scaphoid might require a small bone graft which will be taken from somewhere within the wrist - I forget where, but the fact that it doesn't need to be taken from the hip means they only require a pretty small shard of bone.
So at least another six weeks in the cast. All being well the healing will be stronger due to the screws in the bones. I don't want to focus on the long-term complications that could arise. Instead I have tentatively planned for the Giro di Lombardia sportive in mid-October as my return to any sort of decent form. It seems a really long way away!
Still, being at home unable to do very much does mean I get to see all the kids' end of year activities, in particular the sports days. All three did really well - our daughter is definitely the best 'team player' and all-rounder of the three, one of the twins has revealed a previously-hidden talent for speedy running and the other (who's talent for running was already obvious) has improved even more. Both the boys came first in their sprints - we were very proud parents! They can't throw or catch a tennis ball though - they leave that skill to our daughter!
More turbo time beckons, whilst I also have to try not to become embroiled in arguments on cycling forums. The latest 'discussion' involved me trying to explain the merits of a Powertap to another forum user who kept saying that they must be crap because Pantani and Russell Downing didn't use them! Such blinkered and ill-founded opinion really got my back up for a day or two until I realised that there was no arguing with this poster - he'd never used any power measurement, never would, and wasn't able to form a coherent argument. I guess that summarises internet forums though, and the wide range of 'characters' that drift through them!
The left wrist, on the other hand (!), is a bit of a disaster. The fracture to the scaphoid bone does not show any signs of healing - in fact the fracture has enlarged. There also looks to be an 'irregularity' around the lunate bone. Before all this I had no idea how many bones there were in the wrist:
Quite a few! Anyhow, the upshot is that I am scheduled for surgery in four days time to have a screw put into the scaphoid, and in all probability another put into the lunate. The scaphoid might require a small bone graft which will be taken from somewhere within the wrist - I forget where, but the fact that it doesn't need to be taken from the hip means they only require a pretty small shard of bone.
So at least another six weeks in the cast. All being well the healing will be stronger due to the screws in the bones. I don't want to focus on the long-term complications that could arise. Instead I have tentatively planned for the Giro di Lombardia sportive in mid-October as my return to any sort of decent form. It seems a really long way away!
Still, being at home unable to do very much does mean I get to see all the kids' end of year activities, in particular the sports days. All three did really well - our daughter is definitely the best 'team player' and all-rounder of the three, one of the twins has revealed a previously-hidden talent for speedy running and the other (who's talent for running was already obvious) has improved even more. Both the boys came first in their sprints - we were very proud parents! They can't throw or catch a tennis ball though - they leave that skill to our daughter!
More turbo time beckons, whilst I also have to try not to become embroiled in arguments on cycling forums. The latest 'discussion' involved me trying to explain the merits of a Powertap to another forum user who kept saying that they must be crap because Pantani and Russell Downing didn't use them! Such blinkered and ill-founded opinion really got my back up for a day or two until I realised that there was no arguing with this poster - he'd never used any power measurement, never would, and wasn't able to form a coherent argument. I guess that summarises internet forums though, and the wide range of 'characters' that drift through them!
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
19 days in, 11 days of turbo
Can you learn to love the turbo? I'm not sure, but at the moment it is the only bit of exercise I get, the only time on the bike and the only time in the fresh air. So yes, I guess at the moment it'll do. I'm worried that I won't be able to cycle for more than one hour at a stretch after this layoff though. Realistically I think there are at least another 8 weeks to go before I can even contemplate going out on the road again, so I am spending a bit of time each day trying to devise my turbo-training schedule. My current favourite is an aerobic workout of 3 minute intervals with a minute off between each interval, increasing then decreasing the power over the session, peaking at 310W and starting/ending at 220W. In the current warm weather it is quite a tough and sweat-fuelled workout, especially as I am riding the majority of the hour with my hands off the bars!
I have also discovered 3M Coban - a self-adhesive compression bandage, which I have been using on my little finger post-turbo or post-stretching exercises to reduce a bit of swelling around the fracture. I'm not sure how it adheres as it feels totally non-tacky. It is reusable and amazingly effective. My daughter loves it and we are now in a routine of evening cast and bandage removal and reapplication - she is quite the Florence Nightingale. She's even found me a replacement grab hand in case one of my own hands drops off! My left wrist (fractured scaphiod) feels OK at the moment, but I can feel that I am loosing strength in the hand. I'm looking forward to the therapy sessions which will help me regain strength and movement.
I can't say that this enforced rest is helping me overall though. Jobhunting is monotonous at the best of times, but when it is the main activity that fills your day it seems so much worse. Waiting for responses seems to take an eternity. I still enjoy interviews, but getting to that stage has proved to be so much harder than any time in the past five years. An inability to help around the house is also incredibly frustrating - having sat around reading, surfing and jobhunting most of the day (I am grateful that I can type reasonably easily now) I then have to watch my wife struggle with school pickups, teatime and bathtime with the kids, knowing that my contribution is limited to minor cooking (no lifting pans though), a little storytelling and kissing the kids goodnight. If you'd asked me a month ago whether I would like the opportunity to avoid washing up, gardening and tidying for eight weeks I would have bitten your arm off! Now that the reality has hit home I would be happy for a decent pan scrubbing, pruning, weeding and paperwork session. Sad but true...
I've given my Marmotte place away today, which feels like yet another season goal just cast aside. To say I'm disappointed about it is an understatement. Last year I got to within 4km of the finish and had to bail out due to the worst cramp I had ever had. Paul, a fellow Dynamo I had gone out there with also had unfinished business - he had virtually passed out on Alpe d'Huez and was rushed to the hospital for oxygen and an IV drip - the big softie! Anyhow, I found out last week that he was not going out either this year (coincidentally it was Paul who drove me back from Hog Hill after my accident a few weeks ago). We've trained and raced together a fair bit this year, and along with another Dynamo, Mark, had sorted out a really good, pacey winter night training ride. Unfortunately Paul was calling to say that he had suffered a(nother) accident whilst racing - he dislocated his shoulder and lost a couple of teeth. Ouch! Get well soon Paul - I'm sharing your frustration!
I have also discovered 3M Coban - a self-adhesive compression bandage, which I have been using on my little finger post-turbo or post-stretching exercises to reduce a bit of swelling around the fracture. I'm not sure how it adheres as it feels totally non-tacky. It is reusable and amazingly effective. My daughter loves it and we are now in a routine of evening cast and bandage removal and reapplication - she is quite the Florence Nightingale. She's even found me a replacement grab hand in case one of my own hands drops off! My left wrist (fractured scaphiod) feels OK at the moment, but I can feel that I am loosing strength in the hand. I'm looking forward to the therapy sessions which will help me regain strength and movement.
I can't say that this enforced rest is helping me overall though. Jobhunting is monotonous at the best of times, but when it is the main activity that fills your day it seems so much worse. Waiting for responses seems to take an eternity. I still enjoy interviews, but getting to that stage has proved to be so much harder than any time in the past five years. An inability to help around the house is also incredibly frustrating - having sat around reading, surfing and jobhunting most of the day (I am grateful that I can type reasonably easily now) I then have to watch my wife struggle with school pickups, teatime and bathtime with the kids, knowing that my contribution is limited to minor cooking (no lifting pans though), a little storytelling and kissing the kids goodnight. If you'd asked me a month ago whether I would like the opportunity to avoid washing up, gardening and tidying for eight weeks I would have bitten your arm off! Now that the reality has hit home I would be happy for a decent pan scrubbing, pruning, weeding and paperwork session. Sad but true...
I've given my Marmotte place away today, which feels like yet another season goal just cast aside. To say I'm disappointed about it is an understatement. Last year I got to within 4km of the finish and had to bail out due to the worst cramp I had ever had. Paul, a fellow Dynamo I had gone out there with also had unfinished business - he had virtually passed out on Alpe d'Huez and was rushed to the hospital for oxygen and an IV drip - the big softie! Anyhow, I found out last week that he was not going out either this year (coincidentally it was Paul who drove me back from Hog Hill after my accident a few weeks ago). We've trained and raced together a fair bit this year, and along with another Dynamo, Mark, had sorted out a really good, pacey winter night training ride. Unfortunately Paul was calling to say that he had suffered a(nother) accident whilst racing - he dislocated his shoulder and lost a couple of teeth. Ouch! Get well soon Paul - I'm sharing your frustration!
Sunday, 14 June 2009
10 days in...
So I'm now ten days into the injury. Still in the two casts - one on the left wrist and another (at least it is removable) on the right hand. All the cuts and bruises are getting much better, but I am still a long way from riding out on the road again.
I've been back to the hospital for a therapy session for my little finger (broken). I have very little movement and it will take a few weeks of stretches to get the range of motion back - at least most of the previous range of motion. The wrist is another matter - I have a fracture of the scaphoid bone (a common fracture) which is non-displaced (hurray) and at the waist of the scaphoid (hmmmm). The best place for a fracture to occur is at the distal location where the blood supply is most effective. The worst place is the proximal location (poor blood supply) and the waist falls somewhere inbetween. The level of blood supply defines, to a large extent, the efficacy of the healing and the likelihood of avascular necrosis (a bone degeneration which causes arthritis). Essentially I am going to need to keep the cast on for at least another 5 weeks and then take it from there. I am slowly becoming resigned to loosing fitness and, even worse, not being able to enjoy cycling in the sunshine until sometime in August, all being well.
Cycling in the sunshine, not turbo-ing in the sunshine. I tried a turbo session today, perhaps unwisely opting to do a similar session to that I did a month ago. Aerobic capacity training, a one hour session, not crazy power levels or interval lengths but still quite intense. Boy did I suffer! Full sunshine, no cooling breeze, heart rate way, way north of normal, supporting myself on the cast on my one almost-good hand. I managed to complete the one hour session, but I was clock-watching after 20 minutes, and at 55 minutes felt that I was exercising in a furnace with a bass drum thumping in my ears. My god, at this rate I may have to take up jogging again just for some relief!
One of the trickiest issues about having a cast (or casts in my case, with one being removable) is showering. Washing with one hand is simple enough, trying to avoid getting the other hand wet isn't. So I asked a nurse friend to get me a cover for showering that goes over the arm to keep it waterproof. Ha! It has obviously been in a cupboard in the hospital for years, and has now finally seen the light of day. Take a look at the box - there's something really dodgy about it:
If the picture on the front is a little weird, check out the dude on the back:
I never thought the wearing of a hyperbaric arm chamber could be so stylish. He's fully clothed in the first picture though - what's he doing, planning a walk in the rain? He's hardly dressed for a shower. Maybe he's a bovine vet? Bloody hell, roll on August!
I've been back to the hospital for a therapy session for my little finger (broken). I have very little movement and it will take a few weeks of stretches to get the range of motion back - at least most of the previous range of motion. The wrist is another matter - I have a fracture of the scaphoid bone (a common fracture) which is non-displaced (hurray) and at the waist of the scaphoid (hmmmm). The best place for a fracture to occur is at the distal location where the blood supply is most effective. The worst place is the proximal location (poor blood supply) and the waist falls somewhere inbetween. The level of blood supply defines, to a large extent, the efficacy of the healing and the likelihood of avascular necrosis (a bone degeneration which causes arthritis). Essentially I am going to need to keep the cast on for at least another 5 weeks and then take it from there. I am slowly becoming resigned to loosing fitness and, even worse, not being able to enjoy cycling in the sunshine until sometime in August, all being well.
Cycling in the sunshine, not turbo-ing in the sunshine. I tried a turbo session today, perhaps unwisely opting to do a similar session to that I did a month ago. Aerobic capacity training, a one hour session, not crazy power levels or interval lengths but still quite intense. Boy did I suffer! Full sunshine, no cooling breeze, heart rate way, way north of normal, supporting myself on the cast on my one almost-good hand. I managed to complete the one hour session, but I was clock-watching after 20 minutes, and at 55 minutes felt that I was exercising in a furnace with a bass drum thumping in my ears. My god, at this rate I may have to take up jogging again just for some relief!
One of the trickiest issues about having a cast (or casts in my case, with one being removable) is showering. Washing with one hand is simple enough, trying to avoid getting the other hand wet isn't. So I asked a nurse friend to get me a cover for showering that goes over the arm to keep it waterproof. Ha! It has obviously been in a cupboard in the hospital for years, and has now finally seen the light of day. Take a look at the box - there's something really dodgy about it:
If the picture on the front is a little weird, check out the dude on the back:
I never thought the wearing of a hyperbaric arm chamber could be so stylish. He's fully clothed in the first picture though - what's he doing, planning a walk in the rain? He's hardly dressed for a shower. Maybe he's a bovine vet? Bloody hell, roll on August!Friday, 5 June 2009
Not to plan
Well, that was interesting. I got out to Hog Hill after a good rest, felt pretty fresh and was looking forward to the race. I didn't really want to warm up, but after seeing my clubmate set off for the industrial estate for a quick spin I decided I'd do the same. Big, big mistake!
Basically - moment of inattention, hit a rock/large piece of rubble in the road, lost it, both hands dropped off bars, grabbed at bars, up onto shallow kerb, hands jolted off bars again, hit a low wall quite hard and went down. Patched up by first aid medic at the circuit then late night in A&E to find out that I had broken left wrist, broken finger on right hand...also sore and cut knees, cut fingers, road rash on shoulder and dented pride. My Isaac has a nasty scrape on the rear seatstay, and the bars, front wheel and shifters took most of the impact. I now have to type with the only finger on right hand that is not bandaged. At least my clubmate came 2nd and only needs 5 more points to move up to 2nd cat, so he was in a good mood driving me to hospital last night!
Off to hospital again in a week for follow-ups. I might not be able to ride for about four to six weeks, or attend the Nocturne tomorrow (and I got Rapha pink velcro put on my casts specially). I think that's my Marmotte buggered as well. Very, very unhappy. Still,you have to laugh - I was only just complaining of needing time off the bike. I didn't have this in mind though...
Basically - moment of inattention, hit a rock/large piece of rubble in the road, lost it, both hands dropped off bars, grabbed at bars, up onto shallow kerb, hands jolted off bars again, hit a low wall quite hard and went down. Patched up by first aid medic at the circuit then late night in A&E to find out that I had broken left wrist, broken finger on right hand...also sore and cut knees, cut fingers, road rash on shoulder and dented pride. My Isaac has a nasty scrape on the rear seatstay, and the bars, front wheel and shifters took most of the impact. I now have to type with the only finger on right hand that is not bandaged. At least my clubmate came 2nd and only needs 5 more points to move up to 2nd cat, so he was in a good mood driving me to hospital last night!
Off to hospital again in a week for follow-ups. I might not be able to ride for about four to six weeks, or attend the Nocturne tomorrow (and I got Rapha pink velcro put on my casts specially). I think that's my Marmotte buggered as well. Very, very unhappy. Still,you have to laugh - I was only just complaining of needing time off the bike. I didn't have this in mind though...
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Resting
One of the most difficult things to do when training is to know when to take a break. Leave it too late and you run the risk of being burned out, which as I've found in the past means that you are pretty ineffective for at least a week. Which is why I decided to listen to my body at the end of yesterday's ride and take a few days off over the next week.
It wasn't the nagging feeling of heavy legs when setting off for a long ride that prompted the idea of a rest, nor was it the feeling of queasiness in my stomach on the final climb of the day up to Box Hill. It wasn't even the exhaustion that overwhelmed me when I got home after the 70 mile ride, having been towed the last 10 miles home by a clubmate. No, it was a point about 30 miles into the ride through stunning Surrey countryside, in the most perfect of weather, when I looked around and thought "you know, I'd rather be doing something else".
It happens once in a while and is always a sign that I am in need of a physical break from cycling. Sure enough, as the ride went on my legs got progressively heavier, I had no zip, no zing, no need for speed, hell I couldn't even be bothered to keep up with my clubmate on the climbs, even though he was taking it easy! I had other things on my mind too, like waiting to hear if I'll be called back for another interview for a job I'm particularly keen to get, so to say I was distracted is probably an understatement.
So the plan is Wednesday (today) rest, Thursday Hog Hill (just because I have the offer of a lift there!), Friday a very easy 1hr spin, Saturday and Sunday no riding at all (watching the Smithfield Nocture on Sat), Monday easy spin with a few hard-ish efforts, Tuesday Palace, Wednesday (maybe) Eelmore. A very different week - unstructured with plenty of relaxing, punctuated by the odd race. Can't wait!
I've never attended the Nocturne before and will be really interested to see how the bunches cope with the tight circuit around Smithfield Market - one of my favourite parts of the city. The forecast is heavy showers too, but hopefully there won't be too many incidents. There are quite a few Dynamos in the womens, support and elite races so I shall be trying to get plenty of good snaps. And my guess (and it really is a guess!) for the winner of the elite crit? I'm going to go for Dean Downing. We'll see...
It wasn't the nagging feeling of heavy legs when setting off for a long ride that prompted the idea of a rest, nor was it the feeling of queasiness in my stomach on the final climb of the day up to Box Hill. It wasn't even the exhaustion that overwhelmed me when I got home after the 70 mile ride, having been towed the last 10 miles home by a clubmate. No, it was a point about 30 miles into the ride through stunning Surrey countryside, in the most perfect of weather, when I looked around and thought "you know, I'd rather be doing something else".
It happens once in a while and is always a sign that I am in need of a physical break from cycling. Sure enough, as the ride went on my legs got progressively heavier, I had no zip, no zing, no need for speed, hell I couldn't even be bothered to keep up with my clubmate on the climbs, even though he was taking it easy! I had other things on my mind too, like waiting to hear if I'll be called back for another interview for a job I'm particularly keen to get, so to say I was distracted is probably an understatement.
So the plan is Wednesday (today) rest, Thursday Hog Hill (just because I have the offer of a lift there!), Friday a very easy 1hr spin, Saturday and Sunday no riding at all (watching the Smithfield Nocture on Sat), Monday easy spin with a few hard-ish efforts, Tuesday Palace, Wednesday (maybe) Eelmore. A very different week - unstructured with plenty of relaxing, punctuated by the odd race. Can't wait!
I've never attended the Nocturne before and will be really interested to see how the bunches cope with the tight circuit around Smithfield Market - one of my favourite parts of the city. The forecast is heavy showers too, but hopefully there won't be too many incidents. There are quite a few Dynamos in the womens, support and elite races so I shall be trying to get plenty of good snaps. And my guess (and it really is a guess!) for the winner of the elite crit? I'm going to go for Dean Downing. We'll see...
Thursday, 28 May 2009
Eely predictable
Wednesday night and it was off to Eelmore again. Perhaps opting to race within 48hrs of suffering from a particularly violent stomach bug was not the best option, but then again I had been to a job interview in the interim, so racing should have felt relatively low-stress!
Where to begin? Stick with the bunch? Check. Couple of laps on/near the front? Check. Get stuck out of position on final corner and slide back to mid-bunch mediocrity? Check. Become increasingly frustrated at lack of progress as a 3rd cat? Check.
Annoying. I really hope to have the opportunity to get to another circuit soon.
Where to begin? Stick with the bunch? Check. Couple of laps on/near the front? Check. Get stuck out of position on final corner and slide back to mid-bunch mediocrity? Check. Become increasingly frustrated at lack of progress as a 3rd cat? Check.
Annoying. I really hope to have the opportunity to get to another circuit soon.
Thursday, 21 May 2009
Jellied eel
It's becoming a habit - Wednesday night is Eelmore night! Yet again I found myself travelling down the A3, past Guildford, over the Hogs Back and down to Aldershot. It's a similar route to that I used to take when I worked at Nokia in Farnborough years ago - a relaxing drive with very few holdups considering that I usually go in rush hour.
I won't repeat my views of the circuit again here otherwise I will sound like a moaner! The riding however seems to be better controlled than at some other circuits, and the standard is generally higher - there's some agression, but less of the shouting and language. The behaviour seems a bit more mature, even though there are plenty of younger riders.
About halfway through last night's race I found myself at the front into the headwind on the front straight. OK, let's see how the legs feel, I thought, and upped the power a little bit. I fully expected to look behind me and see the bunch strung out, so was surprised to find I had opened up a reasonable gap. OK, don't panic Captain Mainwaring, keep going. I lasted 1.5 laps before slowing to see if anyone was going to join me. Eventually I was joined by two other riders - one pushing the pace and one sitting in. Great, if we work together we might have a chance to keep this going. I made an effort to pull through and my legs just told me to forget it. Oh dear, back to the bunch for us all!
Three laps to go and I move into the front 10 or so riders - exactly where I want to be. Final lap, still in top 5 or 6. Back straight, holding position well. Final corner, at speed, still in top 5. Front guy slows drastically out of the corner, now we're all playing silly buggers messing around before the inevitable bunch sprint. Sod this, I feel like Fabian Cancellara, I'm going to burst out of the bunch and go for it from 800m out - I'm off! Great, victory is mine, eat my dust! 600m out - oh, hang on, I'm not Cancellara. I'm 2nd. 3rd. 4th. Bunch come steaming past. Finish near the back. Cursing. Schoolboy error. Legs of jelly.
I won't repeat my views of the circuit again here otherwise I will sound like a moaner! The riding however seems to be better controlled than at some other circuits, and the standard is generally higher - there's some agression, but less of the shouting and language. The behaviour seems a bit more mature, even though there are plenty of younger riders.
About halfway through last night's race I found myself at the front into the headwind on the front straight. OK, let's see how the legs feel, I thought, and upped the power a little bit. I fully expected to look behind me and see the bunch strung out, so was surprised to find I had opened up a reasonable gap. OK, don't panic Captain Mainwaring, keep going. I lasted 1.5 laps before slowing to see if anyone was going to join me. Eventually I was joined by two other riders - one pushing the pace and one sitting in. Great, if we work together we might have a chance to keep this going. I made an effort to pull through and my legs just told me to forget it. Oh dear, back to the bunch for us all!
Three laps to go and I move into the front 10 or so riders - exactly where I want to be. Final lap, still in top 5 or 6. Back straight, holding position well. Final corner, at speed, still in top 5. Front guy slows drastically out of the corner, now we're all playing silly buggers messing around before the inevitable bunch sprint. Sod this, I feel like Fabian Cancellara, I'm going to burst out of the bunch and go for it from 800m out - I'm off! Great, victory is mine, eat my dust! 600m out - oh, hang on, I'm not Cancellara. I'm 2nd. 3rd. 4th. Bunch come steaming past. Finish near the back. Cursing. Schoolboy error. Legs of jelly.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Surrey Hills - what's not to like?
I managed to get out into the Surrey Hills on Sunday for the first time in several weeks. I even managed to get up early to join the London Dynamo 8am ride - usually I'm a slacker and go for the 9am ride which is nice and sociable, although a little slower. The weather forecast promised rain showers in the afternoon, but sunny intervals in the morning - yeah!
Sometimes it's good to take a break from the usual routine (my usual routine has been flatter riding out to Chertsey of late). I had forgotten what a great place the Surrey Hills are for riding. The route out from SW London is flat and uneventful, although at least the roads aren't too busy. But once you get out to the country lanes there are literally hundreds of options to choose, from the well-trodden (well-ridden) 'standard' routes including Box Hill, Leith Hill, Ranmore and Hungry Hill to the lesser-used climbs, many of which I still can't name. I would struggle to find quite a few of them again too, despite having ridden them a few times. One of the many benefits of joining a club is that you have access to riders who have been cycling the hills for years and know some fantastically quiet and picturesque climbs.
Anyhow, we'd just got over Hungry Hill (Coombe Bottom) when the rain which had been promised for the afternoon arrived early. So we took a very slow descent down wet, recently (badly) resurfaced roads towards Shere and set off in the direction of Peaslake. We didn't get far - the heavens opened for a torrential downpour, forcing us to shelter under a tree for a few minutes before giving in, turning back to take refuge at the tearooms in Shere. As we huddled together, teeth chattering, we tried to detect any break in the low, dark, water-laden cloud cover. Nope, none. Looked like rain had set in for the day. I felt quite sorry for the riders struggling around on the Evans sportive ride - of all the days to have an introduction to the Surrey Hills!
A couple of the Dynamo riders decided to tough it out in the tearoom, resigning themselves to the fact that they would have to drink coffee and eat many, many cakes! The other more foolhardy members of the group decided to press on with the return journey - after all, once you get to a certain point of saturation how much worse can it get? We decided on a shorter route up to Ranmore Common, including a really nice little climb up (I think) Colekitchen Lane, although it could have been Critten Lane - when you have so much water and grit in your eyes and your teeth sound like castanets you stop caring about exact routes. From there we pressed on over Box Hill and then took the faster route home via Epsom - usually a glorious run with a south-westerly pushing you home where you can bowl along at 25mph or over nearly the whole way from Box Hill to Epsom, but today a war of attrition with standing water, spraying mud, cold conditions and skiddy, gravelly road surfaces to contend with.
Still, I was home by 12:20, having taken in a lap of Richmond Park on the way just to try and warm up and make the final journey a round 60 miles. That meant arriving home just in time to tuck into a big bown of rice and meatballs prepared by my lovely wife. The kids had a good laugh at my legs when I took my socks off (seriously white feet) and insisted on taking a picture!
Sometimes it's good to take a break from the usual routine (my usual routine has been flatter riding out to Chertsey of late). I had forgotten what a great place the Surrey Hills are for riding. The route out from SW London is flat and uneventful, although at least the roads aren't too busy. But once you get out to the country lanes there are literally hundreds of options to choose, from the well-trodden (well-ridden) 'standard' routes including Box Hill, Leith Hill, Ranmore and Hungry Hill to the lesser-used climbs, many of which I still can't name. I would struggle to find quite a few of them again too, despite having ridden them a few times. One of the many benefits of joining a club is that you have access to riders who have been cycling the hills for years and know some fantastically quiet and picturesque climbs.
Anyhow, we'd just got over Hungry Hill (Coombe Bottom) when the rain which had been promised for the afternoon arrived early. So we took a very slow descent down wet, recently (badly) resurfaced roads towards Shere and set off in the direction of Peaslake. We didn't get far - the heavens opened for a torrential downpour, forcing us to shelter under a tree for a few minutes before giving in, turning back to take refuge at the tearooms in Shere. As we huddled together, teeth chattering, we tried to detect any break in the low, dark, water-laden cloud cover. Nope, none. Looked like rain had set in for the day. I felt quite sorry for the riders struggling around on the Evans sportive ride - of all the days to have an introduction to the Surrey Hills!
A couple of the Dynamo riders decided to tough it out in the tearoom, resigning themselves to the fact that they would have to drink coffee and eat many, many cakes! The other more foolhardy members of the group decided to press on with the return journey - after all, once you get to a certain point of saturation how much worse can it get? We decided on a shorter route up to Ranmore Common, including a really nice little climb up (I think) Colekitchen Lane, although it could have been Critten Lane - when you have so much water and grit in your eyes and your teeth sound like castanets you stop caring about exact routes. From there we pressed on over Box Hill and then took the faster route home via Epsom - usually a glorious run with a south-westerly pushing you home where you can bowl along at 25mph or over nearly the whole way from Box Hill to Epsom, but today a war of attrition with standing water, spraying mud, cold conditions and skiddy, gravelly road surfaces to contend with.
Still, I was home by 12:20, having taken in a lap of Richmond Park on the way just to try and warm up and make the final journey a round 60 miles. That meant arriving home just in time to tuck into a big bown of rice and meatballs prepared by my lovely wife. The kids had a good laugh at my legs when I took my socks off (seriously white feet) and insisted on taking a picture! Friday, 15 May 2009
Routine enquiries
Most people have some sort of routine they follow before and after a race or sportive. I know this from a) talking to other riders and b) reading about routines on blogs and cycling forums.
Now the idea of a pre-event easy warm-up and a post-event leisurely series of stretches, warm bath, steak with pasta and a quick snooze on the couch in front of the telly sounds great, but in reality there are riders all over the world who could only follow this routine if they made some pretty serious lifestyle changes.
My typical pre/post ride routine for a day of racing or sportive action goes something like this:
- Wake up as the alarm goes off, having slept really, really badly (I think this might be pre-race nerves). Feel as though I only got to sleep 10 minutes ago. Sneak out of the bedroom, trying not to wake my wife up so she can at least get another 30 minutes of sleep.
- Get the kids up, washed and downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast service in the main kitchen at the Savoy is probably easier than in the Franzini household. There are only 3 children, but they all have the culinary demands of Michael Winner combined with Sally Albright (played by Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally). Orders come in for cereals at different times - Shreddies, Rice Crispies, Oatibix, Cheerios hidden under Shreddies (what?!) - along with toast, various spreads, eggs cooked in different ways and milk (heated, non-heated, slightly heated) whilst I peel and cut fruit. Spend at least 10 minutes encouraging everyone to eat their fruit before the myriad second courses that I am now rushing around to prepare. Suspect that some of the fruit is being surreptitiously 'droppped by accident' under the table.
- Rush upstairs and get cycling kit on, throw all the stuff laid out carefully the night before into a bag, think about showering and decide against it (to save time) and wash face/clean teeth. Wonder why I'm feeling a bit faint...
- Rush downstairs and make a coffee (large, strong). Search around for something decent to eat in the debris that is the remains of kids' breakfast service - end up settling for Shreddies hidden under Cheerios with slightly heated milk (even I'm at it now).
- Kiss the kids goodbye. Kiss wife (now awake with all the noise) goodbye. Explain about the pile of uneaten fruit on the kitchen floor under the table. Explain that, although I am leaving her with the kids for most of the day, I have at least tried to do as much as possible before heading out. Get a look that says "I do this every morning. It's no big deal".
- Head out to the race or sportive. I'm definitely quite relaxed about sportives now, and treat them as long club rides. Racing still gets the heart fluttering though. Especially road racing, which has a real buzz about it.
- Ride the event. Return home in a state of euphoria / exhilaration / exhaustion / despondency / self-loathing (choose at least two).
- Dump bags and bike in hallway. Down a half litre of Yazoo chocolate milkshake from the fridge (this definitely helps me avoid sore legs the next morning - I've discovered this by following totally unscientific methods).
- Shower (quickly). Change and go downstairs to search for some sort of food. Settle for a cheese sandwich with mango chutney. Try to ignore the kids' pleas to go to the park (for at least 10 minutes).
- Give in and take the kids to the park to either (a) play football (b) help them ride their bikes or (c) take part in running races. Run around feeling fit and healthy compared to a lot of the dads there, but suspect that my legs will give way at any moment. Feel constantly thirsty and finish the kids' water from their beakers.
- Return home in time for the kids' tea. Hover like a vulture whilst they eat, asking "don't you want that?" at two minute intervals to each of them in turn. Hoover up any leftovers.
- Then normal evening routine of getting the kids to bed, sorting out an evening meal with my wife, collapsing on the sofa for an hour, then bed and sweet dreams.
Sometimes I question all the effort involved in racing. The actual race is often the easiest thing!
Now the idea of a pre-event easy warm-up and a post-event leisurely series of stretches, warm bath, steak with pasta and a quick snooze on the couch in front of the telly sounds great, but in reality there are riders all over the world who could only follow this routine if they made some pretty serious lifestyle changes.
My typical pre/post ride routine for a day of racing or sportive action goes something like this:
- Wake up as the alarm goes off, having slept really, really badly (I think this might be pre-race nerves). Feel as though I only got to sleep 10 minutes ago. Sneak out of the bedroom, trying not to wake my wife up so she can at least get another 30 minutes of sleep.
- Get the kids up, washed and downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast service in the main kitchen at the Savoy is probably easier than in the Franzini household. There are only 3 children, but they all have the culinary demands of Michael Winner combined with Sally Albright (played by Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally). Orders come in for cereals at different times - Shreddies, Rice Crispies, Oatibix, Cheerios hidden under Shreddies (what?!) - along with toast, various spreads, eggs cooked in different ways and milk (heated, non-heated, slightly heated) whilst I peel and cut fruit. Spend at least 10 minutes encouraging everyone to eat their fruit before the myriad second courses that I am now rushing around to prepare. Suspect that some of the fruit is being surreptitiously 'droppped by accident' under the table.
- Rush upstairs and get cycling kit on, throw all the stuff laid out carefully the night before into a bag, think about showering and decide against it (to save time) and wash face/clean teeth. Wonder why I'm feeling a bit faint...
- Rush downstairs and make a coffee (large, strong). Search around for something decent to eat in the debris that is the remains of kids' breakfast service - end up settling for Shreddies hidden under Cheerios with slightly heated milk (even I'm at it now).
- Kiss the kids goodbye. Kiss wife (now awake with all the noise) goodbye. Explain about the pile of uneaten fruit on the kitchen floor under the table. Explain that, although I am leaving her with the kids for most of the day, I have at least tried to do as much as possible before heading out. Get a look that says "I do this every morning. It's no big deal".
- Head out to the race or sportive. I'm definitely quite relaxed about sportives now, and treat them as long club rides. Racing still gets the heart fluttering though. Especially road racing, which has a real buzz about it.
- Ride the event. Return home in a state of euphoria / exhilaration / exhaustion / despondency / self-loathing (choose at least two).
- Dump bags and bike in hallway. Down a half litre of Yazoo chocolate milkshake from the fridge (this definitely helps me avoid sore legs the next morning - I've discovered this by following totally unscientific methods).
- Shower (quickly). Change and go downstairs to search for some sort of food. Settle for a cheese sandwich with mango chutney. Try to ignore the kids' pleas to go to the park (for at least 10 minutes).
- Give in and take the kids to the park to either (a) play football (b) help them ride their bikes or (c) take part in running races. Run around feeling fit and healthy compared to a lot of the dads there, but suspect that my legs will give way at any moment. Feel constantly thirsty and finish the kids' water from their beakers.
- Return home in time for the kids' tea. Hover like a vulture whilst they eat, asking "don't you want that?" at two minute intervals to each of them in turn. Hoover up any leftovers.
- Then normal evening routine of getting the kids to bed, sorting out an evening meal with my wife, collapsing on the sofa for an hour, then bed and sweet dreams.
Sometimes I question all the effort involved in racing. The actual race is often the easiest thing!
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Eelmore again...
So, another night out in the glamour-spot of the South East, Eelmore near Aldershot. Another night churning round a circuit hidden in the trees off the Fleet Road. Whilst I do find the circuit itself a bit tedious, the crowd that turns up is pretty friendly, and the races have also been quite fast (average speed is quite high considering how much the bunch slows down round each of the harpins). I don't think the E12 race put too much distance between the groups this evening, so it was definitely faster than last time.
And my result? I came in 11th, maybe 12th - not that it is really relevant, the only thing that matters is that I was outside the top 10. I got stuck behind a rider on the final corner who seemed to be quite hesitant, so I lost all my momentum and had to sprint to catch the sprint, then try to sprint again - hard work! Again my positioning rather than my stamina let me down. One day I will crack it!
I rode my Scott training/commuting/winter/workhorse bike tonight, which is fitted with a (rented) Powertap, so although it is heavier and doesn't ride as well as the Isaac I was at least able to see some racing stats for the first time in a long while:
Av speed: 24.53 mph
Max speed: 34.04 mph
Av power: 283W
Max power: 1184W
5 second peak power: 1100W
Av HR: 161 bpm
Max HR: 174 bpm
And my result? I came in 11th, maybe 12th - not that it is really relevant, the only thing that matters is that I was outside the top 10. I got stuck behind a rider on the final corner who seemed to be quite hesitant, so I lost all my momentum and had to sprint to catch the sprint, then try to sprint again - hard work! Again my positioning rather than my stamina let me down. One day I will crack it!
I rode my Scott training/commuting/winter/workhorse bike tonight, which is fitted with a (rented) Powertap, so although it is heavier and doesn't ride as well as the Isaac I was at least able to see some racing stats for the first time in a long while:
Av speed: 24.53 mph
Max speed: 34.04 mph
Av power: 283W
Max power: 1184W
5 second peak power: 1100W
Av HR: 161 bpm
Max HR: 174 bpm
Friday, 8 May 2009
Eelmore 3/4
Wednesday evening started with a fairly long drive to the Eelmore driver training circuit near Aldershot for the VC Meudon Cycle Kingdon 3rds/4ths race. Entering the circuit was slightly odd - you turn off the road, down a short dirt track and then drive straight onto the circuit itself. I was very worried there might be a race going on (often the junior races are run before the senior event) and really didn't want to turn onto the road only to see a bunch of youngsters heading my way. I was sure that they would have a marshall on the entrance if a race had started though.
At the sign-on I found out there was an E12 race that would be running at the same time. This is pretty common on circuits, and can sometimes cause absolute mayhem if the 3rds are lapped and try to subtly hang onto the back of the E12 bunch for a bit, as apparently happened the week before. I just had time for a few laps of the circuit prior to the start - two sweeping hairpins and two straights - that's it! It was wide with a decent surface though, so seemed like it should be one of the safer circuits. It was also going to be my first race as the sole London Dynamo rider in the bunch. We're a big club and this rarely happens.
During the warmup I was passed by an enormous rider on a Viner who looked a dead ringer for Magnus Backstedt. Hang on - Viner, Magnus Maximus Coffee sponsorship, well over 6' - it was big Maggy. Thank God I'm not in the E12 race, I thought!
Anyhow, the race - hmmm. Not the most inspiring place to race, and with a severe headwind down one straight there was never much chance of a break sticking. The other straight turned into a tailwind tearup as we hammered along towards the hairpin at breakneck speed, playing a game of chicken with the braking. It all boiled down to the predictable bunch sprint which was won by a Hillingdon rider I think. I was about 25th or so (i.e. out of contention by the time the sprint started). Hopeless positioning again. So although the circuit was not the most interesting I think I'll be back - I should be able to do better there.
And big Maggy? He rolled over the line at the back of the E12 bunch looking as though he hadn't a care in the world!
At the sign-on I found out there was an E12 race that would be running at the same time. This is pretty common on circuits, and can sometimes cause absolute mayhem if the 3rds are lapped and try to subtly hang onto the back of the E12 bunch for a bit, as apparently happened the week before. I just had time for a few laps of the circuit prior to the start - two sweeping hairpins and two straights - that's it! It was wide with a decent surface though, so seemed like it should be one of the safer circuits. It was also going to be my first race as the sole London Dynamo rider in the bunch. We're a big club and this rarely happens.
During the warmup I was passed by an enormous rider on a Viner who looked a dead ringer for Magnus Backstedt. Hang on - Viner, Magnus Maximus Coffee sponsorship, well over 6' - it was big Maggy. Thank God I'm not in the E12 race, I thought!
Anyhow, the race - hmmm. Not the most inspiring place to race, and with a severe headwind down one straight there was never much chance of a break sticking. The other straight turned into a tailwind tearup as we hammered along towards the hairpin at breakneck speed, playing a game of chicken with the braking. It all boiled down to the predictable bunch sprint which was won by a Hillingdon rider I think. I was about 25th or so (i.e. out of contention by the time the sprint started). Hopeless positioning again. So although the circuit was not the most interesting I think I'll be back - I should be able to do better there.
And big Maggy? He rolled over the line at the back of the E12 bunch looking as though he hadn't a care in the world!
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Buggy Hell - Shattered Crystal Part 2
So, another evening at Palace, another speed-fest, another early retirement! I had planned to go along simply to watch and support a couple of the Dynamo riders, thus saving my legs for an Eelmore race the following evening, but before I knew it I was lining up to hand over my £10 and pin a number on. A big mistake - there is no room for half-heartedness at Palace, no hiding in the pack for a couple of laps, no letup in the relentlessness of that bloody incline.
I managed to secure a position mid-way back in the start line, fumbled clipping into my pedal, found myself in the last third of the pack going into the first corner, and that was it - race over. You really have to be near the front at the start to avoid all the riders who either haven't raced at Palace before (and go slowly round the corners on the first lap) or have no cornering skills to start with. I wasn't near the start and paid the penalty, struggling round with a bunch for about 10 laps before calling it an evening and saving my legs for the next day. Edit: of course, if I was really good I would be able to swoop past the dropped riders and re-join the main bunch...
There was a bizarre incident on the first lap - second corner (the easiest on the circuit) and a rider fell - just seemed to topple sideways. Then later in the race another rider did exactly the same thing at the same spot! I looked at the corner - no gravel or oil, no holes in the surface - very odd.
I still have to figure out how to get some success at the circuit that is the hardest interval session most riders will do all summer! And just to round the evening off nicely, yet again my legs got bitten to hell before the race by the raging bloodsuckers that inhabit the Palace!
I managed to secure a position mid-way back in the start line, fumbled clipping into my pedal, found myself in the last third of the pack going into the first corner, and that was it - race over. You really have to be near the front at the start to avoid all the riders who either haven't raced at Palace before (and go slowly round the corners on the first lap) or have no cornering skills to start with. I wasn't near the start and paid the penalty, struggling round with a bunch for about 10 laps before calling it an evening and saving my legs for the next day. Edit: of course, if I was really good I would be able to swoop past the dropped riders and re-join the main bunch...
There was a bizarre incident on the first lap - second corner (the easiest on the circuit) and a rider fell - just seemed to topple sideways. Then later in the race another rider did exactly the same thing at the same spot! I looked at the corner - no gravel or oil, no holes in the surface - very odd.
I still have to figure out how to get some success at the circuit that is the hardest interval session most riders will do all summer! And just to round the evening off nicely, yet again my legs got bitten to hell before the race by the raging bloodsuckers that inhabit the Palace!
Friday, 1 May 2009
Oil couture
I've been using Chain-L oil on my chains for the past 3 months. The change from Finish Line Lube was brought on by frustration at mucky, wet-looking chains that attracted dirt faster than Pig-Pen. Setting off with a clean and freshly-oiled chain, only to return after 4 hours in the Surrey Hills with the chain covered in filth and sounding like a coffee-grinder was starting to get on my nerves.Apparently Chain-L was tested by numerous messengers in New York amongst others, so I figured if it was good at dealing with city grit then it should cope well with Surrey Hills slurry and dirt. It's a thick and sticky oil (no solvents) which goes on better if warmed a bit. It seems to coat the chain really, really well too and you can wipe the chain dry to remove surface dirt without removing much of the oil. Good stuff, the longer I use it the more I like it. The only downside is the smell - very sulphurous, not a bit like a quality perfume...
It is also the first cycling product that my wife has given the thumbs-up to - clever packaging!
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
La Marmotte beckons
No racing tonight as Palace was too wet. I've been down there once (last year) after rainfall and fully appreciated the dangers of riding round the course when the surface was slippery - the blind corner of death was just that! I nearly lost it pootling round at 10mph before going home.
So I jumped on the turbo instead - some long intervals in the mid-L2 zone (intervals done at 250W - not too taxing, but enough to feel like a good workout). Anyhow, this got me to reflect on La Marmotte (you have plenty of time to think during turbo sessions) which I am taking part in for the second time, on July 4th this year. Specifically reflecting on how I need to get some longer rides in over the next two months. I'm stronger than last year, but have done fewer long rides, so really I'm stronger over 2hrs and have no idea how I will feel after 9hrs+ in the mountains. Well, not strictly true, I can remember how I felt last year and assume this year will be similar. Although I will finish this year, even if it means ingesting a kilo of salt to avoid the cramps.
I've pasted my write-up of last year's event below to give anyone doing the event a flavour of my first-time reaction. Enjoy!
Alpe d'Huez 2008
Bang! Another spasm of cramp pulsates through both my legs, bringing tears to my eyes for the umpteenth time today. I am barely able to unclip this time before wobbling to a stop and lurching sideways off the bike. Quick, lay the bike down, grab the metal safety barrier and stretch, stretch, stretch. Slowly the pain subsides again and I have a chance to look around. Next to me a man curled up with his head between his knees is being sick. Just up the road another rider is stretched out, eyes closed, barely breathing, head in the shade, body and legs lying straight out across the road. Ashen faces everywhere, absolute silence, vacant stares and trembling bodies. Welcome to the world of the wounded and cramping, the sick and despondent, the demoralised and the physically exhausted. The final kilometres of La Marmotte.
I'm sitting at hairpin six, 400 metres below the town of Alpe d'Huez and the finish line. There are only 4 kilometres to go. That's it. After 170 kilometres how hard can another 4 kilometres be? I sling my heavy, heavy legs back onto the bike and push on, by now reduced to a crawl. I can walk faster than this. In fact, between hairpins 19 and 18, and again between 13 and 12 I did walk faster than this, raising blisters immediately on both heels in the heat. What a contrast to the start of the day, the glorious screaming descent of the Alpe at 7am down to the start line at Bourg d'Oisans .
Earlier that day...
With high hopes and a fair bit of nervous anticipation my clubmate and I wait to cross the start line at 7:40am. We have agreed to cycle together to the base of the first climb, where we will undoubtedly part company for the rest of the day. My clubmate is lighter, younger, fitter and a far better climber than me - he's aiming for a gold time in his age category. I'm aiming to finish first and foremost - I've trained pretty hard for this and, whilst I have a slight hope of a silver category finish, I'm not a good climber. To get silver means 10hrs 35mins in the saddle, rolling into Alpe d'Huez just after 6:30pm. And of course it may well take a lot longer than that.
By 8 o'clock we finally get moving with a fast-paced bunch towards the first climb of the day, the Col du Glandon. The sun is slowly hitting the valley floor and pulling the temperature up, there is excited chatter from all around and sporadic applause from the sides of the road. In short, everything feels great.
Slowly the gradient starts to ramp up, and we're into the first climb. My legs are feeling good, I'm spinning away, drinking plenty of fluids. My HRM confirms what I can feel - I'm riding well within my limits and I'm making good progress. Some others seem to be suffering already, heads nodding, sweat dripping off noses, mouths hanging open. One rider goes onto completely the wrong side of the road (luckily traffic is virtually non-existent) and very slowly swerves into the rockface, falling sideways off his bike. He's up quickly and says he's OK, but looking at his expression he seems a sure bet to abandon at some stage before the end.
The top of the Glandon seems to arrive quickly - wow, the first climb of La Marmotte and I've actually enjoyed it! A quick refill of the bottles, an energy bar and a couple of orange segments and I'm off down the other side. The first few kilometres are a bit nerve-racking, with a combination of narrow roads, many riders and sharp hairpins meaning there is no opportunity to relax. Whoops, there goes a rider off the hairpin and into the pastures - luckily he's OK and probably just misjudged his speed a little.
The descent ends all too soon, and there's a long and rather boring slog along the valley floor to the base of the next climb, the Col du Telegraphe. Large groups form, giving everyone the chance to draft and take more fluid and food on board. The start of the climb comes as a relief at first - it's nice to get off the main road and away from the traffic. I try not to focus on the marker boards that count down the distance to the summit and instead keep spinning, keep the heart rate steady and stay with riders going a similar pace to me. I stop once on the ascent for a couple of minutes, to slowly sip more fluids and watch some of the riders. After all I'm not racing and it's interesting to see all the bikes, the different club kits, the weird and varied climbing styles and listen to the snatches of conversation as groups go past - the Dutch and Belgians seem to make up at least half the field. Oh well, enough relaxing, onwards and upwards. Towards the top I experience quite a severe cramping in my left hamstring and calf, but 30 seconds out of the saddle seems to alleviate it enough to carry on. It is a little worrying though, as I don't normally cramp much. I hope it holds off for the Galibier, which everyone tells me is a brute of a climb.
The descent off the Telegraphe to the start of the Col du Galibier really is short and is over all too briefly. I know there is a food stop in Valloire where I intend to have a break for at least 10 minutes and take on some more real food. That's only about a kilometre away, but it is all uphill and I suddenly realise how the minimal recovery time between the two climbs is going to make things very difficult. Ever so slowly I roll into the feed station and join the scrum for food and water. I love the food they have on offer - baguettes ripped into chunks with salami and liver sausage, dried fruits, huge quarters of tomato - and have to make a concerted effort not to overeat. The savoury tastes are such a welcome relief after all the sweet energy snacks I've been carrying. Right, a quick sit down, more fluids, shove a few bits of dried fruit into the jersey pocket and I'm off to see what the Galibier has to offer.
Bloody hell! Ten minutes into the climb and I'm suffering. My legs are still quite heavy from the Telegraphe, and I've made the mistake of looking upwards towards the summit. It's endless and there's no perceptible slackening of the gradient - and everyone has told me that the final few kilometres are the real killer at the end of the climb. Right, better get on with it then. Focus on the road ahead - not too far, just the next few hundred metres. Definitely don't look too far up the mountain at the slowly-moving string of riders winding endlessly hundreds of metres above.
Another ten painful minutes go by before the cramp returns with a vengeance. Getting out of the saddle doesn't stop it now, and each time it hits I have to climb off the bike and stretch at the side of the road. It is really frustrating and slows me down terribly (and let's not forget, I was never going to be fast anyway). The pattern seems to be three or four minutes of climbing, attack of cramp, off the bike and stretch, back on the bike, another few minutes of climbing, etc. Oh, this is bad, worse that I ever imagined. After about 45 minutes I do what I vowed I would try to avoid - I start to walk. Now the pattern is three minutes cycling, attack of cramp, off the bike, stretch, walk for two minutes to keep progress up the mountain, back on the bike, climb, cramp, etc. The sun goes behind the clouds and a few spots of rain hit my shades - oh no, I really don't want to do the longest descent in the rain! I'm questioning my staying power now, questioning my will to finish, questioning my motives.
Near the top I stop at a cafe for an Orangina, which must have some sort of magical properties, for I am able to cycle (very slowly) to the summit without cramping again. The final few kilometres are as hard as everyone has said, just solid, hard climbing, very steep, with everyone moving so slowly in absolute silence.
But it is worth the effort just for the descent. It seems endless, swooping down the side of the mountain. I take great comfort in watching the distance clock up with minimal effort, and start to feel a little more optimistic about finishing. One more climb. A killer of a climb, but only one more. One more. Twenty-one hairpins. Even with a rest every hairpin, even with walking, I'm going to get up that climb. I am going to finish.
Of course it's easy to have all these thoughts on the descent. All too soon I'm back at Bourg d'Oisans and, having refilled the bottles, I'm heading along the road towards a solid wall of rock. Accelerate a little, round to the left and boom! The road rears up sharply and I'm back to the suffering again. Push on the pedals. I can't spin now. I can't get my heart rate anywhere near max - my legs are just too heavy. All I can do is grind slowly up the road along with hundreds of others and hope that the cramp doesn't return. But oh, here it comes, as though it's been waiting in my legs until I'm at my weakest. It's stronger than I am now, and hitting me between every hairpin, slowing my overall progress to an absolute crawl. Upwards I go, counting down the turns, the agony getting worse as the numbers on the hairpins descend.
The end...
I'm sitting at hairpin six, 400 metres below the town of Alpe d'Huez and the finish line. There are only 4 kilometres to go. That's it. After 170 kilometres how hard can another 4 kilometres be? But I'm finished. The last few attacks of cramp had me crying out. I can't even lift my leg over the bike without cramping. My feet feel like they're on fire and I can barely hobble along the road. I'm not going to be able to make the final four kilometres. Who am I kidding, I'm not going to be able to make another 40 metres. The slow realisation hits me - my day is over. I call my clubmate, who finished several hours ago, to come and pick me up in the car. My head hangs low as I load my bike in the back of the car...
It has taken me 11hrs 10 minutes to get within 4 kilometres of the end, having done approximately 4,600 metres of climbing. Would I do this again? I'm not sure, but the overwhelming feeling I get in the car on the way up the final five hairpins is that there may be a return trip...
So I jumped on the turbo instead - some long intervals in the mid-L2 zone (intervals done at 250W - not too taxing, but enough to feel like a good workout). Anyhow, this got me to reflect on La Marmotte (you have plenty of time to think during turbo sessions) which I am taking part in for the second time, on July 4th this year. Specifically reflecting on how I need to get some longer rides in over the next two months. I'm stronger than last year, but have done fewer long rides, so really I'm stronger over 2hrs and have no idea how I will feel after 9hrs+ in the mountains. Well, not strictly true, I can remember how I felt last year and assume this year will be similar. Although I will finish this year, even if it means ingesting a kilo of salt to avoid the cramps.
I've pasted my write-up of last year's event below to give anyone doing the event a flavour of my first-time reaction. Enjoy!
Alpe d'Huez 2008
Bang! Another spasm of cramp pulsates through both my legs, bringing tears to my eyes for the umpteenth time today. I am barely able to unclip this time before wobbling to a stop and lurching sideways off the bike. Quick, lay the bike down, grab the metal safety barrier and stretch, stretch, stretch. Slowly the pain subsides again and I have a chance to look around. Next to me a man curled up with his head between his knees is being sick. Just up the road another rider is stretched out, eyes closed, barely breathing, head in the shade, body and legs lying straight out across the road. Ashen faces everywhere, absolute silence, vacant stares and trembling bodies. Welcome to the world of the wounded and cramping, the sick and despondent, the demoralised and the physically exhausted. The final kilometres of La Marmotte.
I'm sitting at hairpin six, 400 metres below the town of Alpe d'Huez and the finish line. There are only 4 kilometres to go. That's it. After 170 kilometres how hard can another 4 kilometres be? I sling my heavy, heavy legs back onto the bike and push on, by now reduced to a crawl. I can walk faster than this. In fact, between hairpins 19 and 18, and again between 13 and 12 I did walk faster than this, raising blisters immediately on both heels in the heat. What a contrast to the start of the day, the glorious screaming descent of the Alpe at 7am down to the start line at Bourg d'Oisans .
Earlier that day...
With high hopes and a fair bit of nervous anticipation my clubmate and I wait to cross the start line at 7:40am. We have agreed to cycle together to the base of the first climb, where we will undoubtedly part company for the rest of the day. My clubmate is lighter, younger, fitter and a far better climber than me - he's aiming for a gold time in his age category. I'm aiming to finish first and foremost - I've trained pretty hard for this and, whilst I have a slight hope of a silver category finish, I'm not a good climber. To get silver means 10hrs 35mins in the saddle, rolling into Alpe d'Huez just after 6:30pm. And of course it may well take a lot longer than that.
By 8 o'clock we finally get moving with a fast-paced bunch towards the first climb of the day, the Col du Glandon. The sun is slowly hitting the valley floor and pulling the temperature up, there is excited chatter from all around and sporadic applause from the sides of the road. In short, everything feels great.
Slowly the gradient starts to ramp up, and we're into the first climb. My legs are feeling good, I'm spinning away, drinking plenty of fluids. My HRM confirms what I can feel - I'm riding well within my limits and I'm making good progress. Some others seem to be suffering already, heads nodding, sweat dripping off noses, mouths hanging open. One rider goes onto completely the wrong side of the road (luckily traffic is virtually non-existent) and very slowly swerves into the rockface, falling sideways off his bike. He's up quickly and says he's OK, but looking at his expression he seems a sure bet to abandon at some stage before the end.
The top of the Glandon seems to arrive quickly - wow, the first climb of La Marmotte and I've actually enjoyed it! A quick refill of the bottles, an energy bar and a couple of orange segments and I'm off down the other side. The first few kilometres are a bit nerve-racking, with a combination of narrow roads, many riders and sharp hairpins meaning there is no opportunity to relax. Whoops, there goes a rider off the hairpin and into the pastures - luckily he's OK and probably just misjudged his speed a little.
The descent ends all too soon, and there's a long and rather boring slog along the valley floor to the base of the next climb, the Col du Telegraphe. Large groups form, giving everyone the chance to draft and take more fluid and food on board. The start of the climb comes as a relief at first - it's nice to get off the main road and away from the traffic. I try not to focus on the marker boards that count down the distance to the summit and instead keep spinning, keep the heart rate steady and stay with riders going a similar pace to me. I stop once on the ascent for a couple of minutes, to slowly sip more fluids and watch some of the riders. After all I'm not racing and it's interesting to see all the bikes, the different club kits, the weird and varied climbing styles and listen to the snatches of conversation as groups go past - the Dutch and Belgians seem to make up at least half the field. Oh well, enough relaxing, onwards and upwards. Towards the top I experience quite a severe cramping in my left hamstring and calf, but 30 seconds out of the saddle seems to alleviate it enough to carry on. It is a little worrying though, as I don't normally cramp much. I hope it holds off for the Galibier, which everyone tells me is a brute of a climb.
The descent off the Telegraphe to the start of the Col du Galibier really is short and is over all too briefly. I know there is a food stop in Valloire where I intend to have a break for at least 10 minutes and take on some more real food. That's only about a kilometre away, but it is all uphill and I suddenly realise how the minimal recovery time between the two climbs is going to make things very difficult. Ever so slowly I roll into the feed station and join the scrum for food and water. I love the food they have on offer - baguettes ripped into chunks with salami and liver sausage, dried fruits, huge quarters of tomato - and have to make a concerted effort not to overeat. The savoury tastes are such a welcome relief after all the sweet energy snacks I've been carrying. Right, a quick sit down, more fluids, shove a few bits of dried fruit into the jersey pocket and I'm off to see what the Galibier has to offer.
Bloody hell! Ten minutes into the climb and I'm suffering. My legs are still quite heavy from the Telegraphe, and I've made the mistake of looking upwards towards the summit. It's endless and there's no perceptible slackening of the gradient - and everyone has told me that the final few kilometres are the real killer at the end of the climb. Right, better get on with it then. Focus on the road ahead - not too far, just the next few hundred metres. Definitely don't look too far up the mountain at the slowly-moving string of riders winding endlessly hundreds of metres above.
Another ten painful minutes go by before the cramp returns with a vengeance. Getting out of the saddle doesn't stop it now, and each time it hits I have to climb off the bike and stretch at the side of the road. It is really frustrating and slows me down terribly (and let's not forget, I was never going to be fast anyway). The pattern seems to be three or four minutes of climbing, attack of cramp, off the bike and stretch, back on the bike, another few minutes of climbing, etc. Oh, this is bad, worse that I ever imagined. After about 45 minutes I do what I vowed I would try to avoid - I start to walk. Now the pattern is three minutes cycling, attack of cramp, off the bike, stretch, walk for two minutes to keep progress up the mountain, back on the bike, climb, cramp, etc. The sun goes behind the clouds and a few spots of rain hit my shades - oh no, I really don't want to do the longest descent in the rain! I'm questioning my staying power now, questioning my will to finish, questioning my motives.
Near the top I stop at a cafe for an Orangina, which must have some sort of magical properties, for I am able to cycle (very slowly) to the summit without cramping again. The final few kilometres are as hard as everyone has said, just solid, hard climbing, very steep, with everyone moving so slowly in absolute silence.
But it is worth the effort just for the descent. It seems endless, swooping down the side of the mountain. I take great comfort in watching the distance clock up with minimal effort, and start to feel a little more optimistic about finishing. One more climb. A killer of a climb, but only one more. One more. Twenty-one hairpins. Even with a rest every hairpin, even with walking, I'm going to get up that climb. I am going to finish.
Of course it's easy to have all these thoughts on the descent. All too soon I'm back at Bourg d'Oisans and, having refilled the bottles, I'm heading along the road towards a solid wall of rock. Accelerate a little, round to the left and boom! The road rears up sharply and I'm back to the suffering again. Push on the pedals. I can't spin now. I can't get my heart rate anywhere near max - my legs are just too heavy. All I can do is grind slowly up the road along with hundreds of others and hope that the cramp doesn't return. But oh, here it comes, as though it's been waiting in my legs until I'm at my weakest. It's stronger than I am now, and hitting me between every hairpin, slowing my overall progress to an absolute crawl. Upwards I go, counting down the turns, the agony getting worse as the numbers on the hairpins descend.
The end...
I'm sitting at hairpin six, 400 metres below the town of Alpe d'Huez and the finish line. There are only 4 kilometres to go. That's it. After 170 kilometres how hard can another 4 kilometres be? But I'm finished. The last few attacks of cramp had me crying out. I can't even lift my leg over the bike without cramping. My feet feel like they're on fire and I can barely hobble along the road. I'm not going to be able to make the final four kilometres. Who am I kidding, I'm not going to be able to make another 40 metres. The slow realisation hits me - my day is over. I call my clubmate, who finished several hours ago, to come and pick me up in the car. My head hangs low as I load my bike in the back of the car...
It has taken me 11hrs 10 minutes to get within 4 kilometres of the end, having done approximately 4,600 metres of climbing. Would I do this again? I'm not sure, but the overwhelming feeling I get in the car on the way up the final five hairpins is that there may be a return trip...
Saturday, 25 April 2009
Dunsfold 3rds - wind, wind and more wind
Another race, another Nul Point. Particularly frustrating because I felt strong throughout the Surrey League circuit race at Dunsfold and should have done better. As usual there were several dodgy moments, a fair bit of swearing and shouting and a lot of moaning in the bunch. A standard 3rds race then.
The first lap was notable only for my potential early exit from the race due to asphyxiation. Passing one of the parked lorries, a trailing length of safety tape (about 5 metres long) blew up in the breeze and around my neck, breaking away from the lorry and leaving me wearing a very long, plastic red and white striped scarf! One end was wrapped around my bars, the other dangled dangerously close to my front wheel. I must have looked ridiculous as I flapped around in the wind trying to get the bloody thing unravelled from my neck without letting the loose end get caught in the spinning spokes. Phew, a potential Darwin Award moment avoided!
I spent some time on the front (half-killing myself into the fierce wind), some time near the back, plenty of time in the centre of the pack sheltering from the savage wind on the back straight, bridged across to a small break, practiced moving around in the pack and generally tried to keep my interest up. Dunsfold is a pretty dull circuit - pan-flat, wide, long (3 miles) and exposed. Any breaks are visible a very long way ahead, giving the bunch plenty to aim for. There was no chance of a break working well today - the wind was so strong that, as one rider groaned, it felt like cycling into a wall. Right at the end a break managed to stay away - just, only outdistancing the sprinting bunch by a few metres - and a fellow London Dynamo got his first points at 3rd Cat by coming in second. Great result, he rode well and managed to get the good positions that I should have been aiming for. Yours truly came in about 25th or so, very disappointed (edit: no, I was 32nd - even worse).
More training required, combined with more racing 'nouse'. The weather doesn't look great for Palace this Tuesday (drizzle, probably meaning a cancelled race due to slippery conditions on the blind corner) so I really have to re-acquaint myself with the turbo and work on sustainable power...still searching for that elusive classy breakaway!
The first lap was notable only for my potential early exit from the race due to asphyxiation. Passing one of the parked lorries, a trailing length of safety tape (about 5 metres long) blew up in the breeze and around my neck, breaking away from the lorry and leaving me wearing a very long, plastic red and white striped scarf! One end was wrapped around my bars, the other dangled dangerously close to my front wheel. I must have looked ridiculous as I flapped around in the wind trying to get the bloody thing unravelled from my neck without letting the loose end get caught in the spinning spokes. Phew, a potential Darwin Award moment avoided!
I spent some time on the front (half-killing myself into the fierce wind), some time near the back, plenty of time in the centre of the pack sheltering from the savage wind on the back straight, bridged across to a small break, practiced moving around in the pack and generally tried to keep my interest up. Dunsfold is a pretty dull circuit - pan-flat, wide, long (3 miles) and exposed. Any breaks are visible a very long way ahead, giving the bunch plenty to aim for. There was no chance of a break working well today - the wind was so strong that, as one rider groaned, it felt like cycling into a wall. Right at the end a break managed to stay away - just, only outdistancing the sprinting bunch by a few metres - and a fellow London Dynamo got his first points at 3rd Cat by coming in second. Great result, he rode well and managed to get the good positions that I should have been aiming for. Yours truly came in about 25th or so, very disappointed (edit: no, I was 32nd - even worse).
More training required, combined with more racing 'nouse'. The weather doesn't look great for Palace this Tuesday (drizzle, probably meaning a cancelled race due to slippery conditions on the blind corner) so I really have to re-acquaint myself with the turbo and work on sustainable power...still searching for that elusive classy breakaway!
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Shattered Crystal
So, the first Crystal Palace of the season. A useful point at which to reflect on the progress a year makes.
Palace '08 - Last year was my first of racing and, at 38, I came to it fairly late, with moderately good fitness and a fair bit of enthusiasm. Went from 4th Cat to 3rd Cat after I forget how many races, but more than I thought it would take. I remember planning to move to 3rd Cat by the beginning of June, but got there at the beginning of May instead, so it probably took about 10 races. Most of these were at Hillingdon, which on reflection is an easier circuit for a 4th or 3rds race. Anyhow, once I moved up to 3rd I decided to give Palace a go. A clubmate had gone and described it as:
Start, sprint, 180 degree corner, sprint, corner, sprint, scary fast blind bend, sprint, off-camber corner (watch the inside pedal), uphill incline, ow, ow, ow, corner, sprint. Repeat between 25 and 30 times.
Wow what a difference from Hillingdon. Narrow, bendy, swooping, picturesque, bumpy, exhilarating, exhausting, painful. I was dropped in my first race there on Lap 1, struggled around on my own for 3 laps, then started to catch the other riders who were regularly shelled out the back of the bunch, ending up having a decent training ride.
Palace '09 - Lost contact with the bunch on the second lap. I was sitting too far back and could see the gap appearing about 10 riders ahead. The gap stretched a bit and that was it - about 15 of us were out of the main bunch. We carried on at a fair pace, picking up a few other dropped riders, and that was it - end of race, nothing to sprint for. Better than last year I guess, and nice to get back to a circuit where you corner with your head in a bush! I felt the same after lap 2 as I did after lap 15 as well, so my recovery is quickening. It's a funny place, Palace, you never know really how you are doing, how many riders are ahead, how may have dropped off and gone home, how often you have been lapped/lapped others, how long you will have to wait to get your licence back afterwards. Organised chaos really, but good fun. I'll definitely be back this season.
Palace '08 - Last year was my first of racing and, at 38, I came to it fairly late, with moderately good fitness and a fair bit of enthusiasm. Went from 4th Cat to 3rd Cat after I forget how many races, but more than I thought it would take. I remember planning to move to 3rd Cat by the beginning of June, but got there at the beginning of May instead, so it probably took about 10 races. Most of these were at Hillingdon, which on reflection is an easier circuit for a 4th or 3rds race. Anyhow, once I moved up to 3rd I decided to give Palace a go. A clubmate had gone and described it as:
Start, sprint, 180 degree corner, sprint, corner, sprint, scary fast blind bend, sprint, off-camber corner (watch the inside pedal), uphill incline, ow, ow, ow, corner, sprint. Repeat between 25 and 30 times.
Wow what a difference from Hillingdon. Narrow, bendy, swooping, picturesque, bumpy, exhilarating, exhausting, painful. I was dropped in my first race there on Lap 1, struggled around on my own for 3 laps, then started to catch the other riders who were regularly shelled out the back of the bunch, ending up having a decent training ride.
Palace '09 - Lost contact with the bunch on the second lap. I was sitting too far back and could see the gap appearing about 10 riders ahead. The gap stretched a bit and that was it - about 15 of us were out of the main bunch. We carried on at a fair pace, picking up a few other dropped riders, and that was it - end of race, nothing to sprint for. Better than last year I guess, and nice to get back to a circuit where you corner with your head in a bush! I felt the same after lap 2 as I did after lap 15 as well, so my recovery is quickening. It's a funny place, Palace, you never know really how you are doing, how many riders are ahead, how may have dropped off and gone home, how often you have been lapped/lapped others, how long you will have to wait to get your licence back afterwards. Organised chaos really, but good fun. I'll definitely be back this season.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
Hillingdon - Westerley Spring Crits
Back to racing after a two week break. Back to Hillingdon, a circuit I have a bit of experience with. I must have raced there about 20 times now, and have never particularly enjoyed it - the races are always twitchy, there is inevitably a strong wind gusting around at least half of the circuit and the ride out there is far from pleasant (busy roads, manic driving around Southall, the smell of chips and kebabs to make you question the sense of racing as opposed to gastromomic pleasures).
Anyhow, a mixture of early season excitement, good weather (doesn't seem to happen often at the moment) and a 3rd/4th Cat mix meant a large field had turned up - I think over 70 riders. There were about 10 Dynamos, so surely we would have some sort of plan? Right, we did, the usual plan of riding for ourselves and seeing what happened!
There were a few unsuccessful breakaway attempts, one of which I participated in (probably the shortest-lived attempt of about three-quarters of a lap). The strong wind down the finishing straight made it tough for everyone, and the constant slowing as the bunch came round the final corner meant there was plenty of brake squeal and commentary. It always makes me laugh - same point on every lap and the bunch slow, but still there are comments along the lines of "Oh come on" and "Keep the speed up". Usually these comments are from riders who don't risk a turn on the front into the wind. About halfway through I had a bit of a wobble whilst trying to put my bottle back in the cage and nearly steered into a Hillingdon rider in yellow. Whoops, very bad riding on my part, for which I apologised. A beginner's mistake that I haven't made for a while - the bottle fumble, that is, not the apology! After all, I'm a polite rider...
Overall the race was pretty well behaved, but the final few laps were the usual nervous bunfight for places, with certain riders taking silly risks to try to get a couple of places up the bunch. I wasn't well positioned with one lap to go - midway back in the bunch and I've learnt before that unless you are in about the top 15 by the final corner there is little point in contesting the sprint, so I sat up and was content to just roll across the line near the back of the bunch. Oh well, a useful training ride, averaging 24.5mph which, considering the strong wind, wasn't too bad. Onwards and upwards (hopefully).
It's the Amstel Gold Race tomorrow - I'll be watching with interest as they sprint up the Cauberg (remembering my struggling up it only a few days ago). I'd love Davide Rebellin to win again and strike a blow for the older riders, but Cunego seems to be the rampant favourite. We'll see tomorrow.
Anyhow, a mixture of early season excitement, good weather (doesn't seem to happen often at the moment) and a 3rd/4th Cat mix meant a large field had turned up - I think over 70 riders. There were about 10 Dynamos, so surely we would have some sort of plan? Right, we did, the usual plan of riding for ourselves and seeing what happened!
There were a few unsuccessful breakaway attempts, one of which I participated in (probably the shortest-lived attempt of about three-quarters of a lap). The strong wind down the finishing straight made it tough for everyone, and the constant slowing as the bunch came round the final corner meant there was plenty of brake squeal and commentary. It always makes me laugh - same point on every lap and the bunch slow, but still there are comments along the lines of "Oh come on" and "Keep the speed up". Usually these comments are from riders who don't risk a turn on the front into the wind. About halfway through I had a bit of a wobble whilst trying to put my bottle back in the cage and nearly steered into a Hillingdon rider in yellow. Whoops, very bad riding on my part, for which I apologised. A beginner's mistake that I haven't made for a while - the bottle fumble, that is, not the apology! After all, I'm a polite rider...
Overall the race was pretty well behaved, but the final few laps were the usual nervous bunfight for places, with certain riders taking silly risks to try to get a couple of places up the bunch. I wasn't well positioned with one lap to go - midway back in the bunch and I've learnt before that unless you are in about the top 15 by the final corner there is little point in contesting the sprint, so I sat up and was content to just roll across the line near the back of the bunch. Oh well, a useful training ride, averaging 24.5mph which, considering the strong wind, wasn't too bad. Onwards and upwards (hopefully).
It's the Amstel Gold Race tomorrow - I'll be watching with interest as they sprint up the Cauberg (remembering my struggling up it only a few days ago). I'd love Davide Rebellin to win again and strike a blow for the older riders, but Cunego seems to be the rampant favourite. We'll see tomorrow.
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Ik ben Engels
What a great Easter - too much chocolate, too much fried food, plenty of cycling! I went over to Limburg in Holland with the family to visit my mother-in-law in Ulestraten, a small village just outside Maastricht, right in the very south of the country. I've been there many times before but this is the first time I have been organised enough to take the bike with me.
Travelling out there was as hassle-free as usual - a couple of hours to get from London onto the Eurotunnel train at Folkestone, a short ride under The Channel, then just over 3hrs driving to Maastricht. We took a quick stop midway to fuel up on coffee (and the kids on sweets) at the petrol station near Brussels, which had a line of seven coffee vending machines. Coffee is a major part of life in Belgium! I'd borrowed a Thule Outrider 531 roof bike rack from a clubmate - highly recommended so long as you have room in the car for the front wheel (the bike is fork-mounted to the lockable rack and is really secure). We probably could have just crammed the bike in the boot, but we wouldn't have had room for the two boxes of wine that we brought back!
The only tricky part of the journey was dealing with the Belgian motorway loons. They drive about 3ft off your rear bumper when you're in the fast lane, even though you're a) going very fast already, b) passing a line of slow-moving lorries on the inside lane and c) leaving a decent (read: mimimum that feels safe) amount of room to the car in front. I think they might actually be drafting to save fuel. Nothing like flicking on the rear foglights for a second to see the shocked looks in the rear view mirror! I know I shouldn't, but their driving always winds me up. It's really odd that it always seems confined to the Belgian roads too - as soon as you get onto the French, German or Dutch motorway systems the phenomenon disappears.
Enough about the Belgians though. The cycling in Dutch Limburg is just superb and I ended up doing a solid 2hr ride each day, averaging 200-210W per ride. Good base miles stuff, with a few Level 3 hard efforts thrown in to keep things interesting. I covered quite a lot of the Amstel Gold Race route which takes place this weekend. The town of Valkenburg (where the race ends) is something of a mecca for cyclists in the region, featuring the Cauberg climb at a steady 12%. It's only a short climb but puts paid to the general view that Holland is flat. The south in particular has many short, sharpish climbs to test the legs. Nothing like the Surrey Hills that I'm used to, but still handy for training.
It was the holiday weekend, so obviously there were lots of people around, but I never expected to see quite so many cyclists. On Saturday morning there were literally thousands of them, mostly in massive groups of 20-40 riders. Surprisingly miserable buggers too! I only spoke to one other rider, who's English was poor (by Dutch standards - meaning that he wasn't completely fluent - and considerably better than my garbled, gutteral attempts at Dutch). Nearly everyone else ignored me. Now I know that when a big group of club riders go past the other way you are unlikely to get a reaction to a wave (they're concentrating, talking to each other, etc) but usually a single rider on a quiet country road will return a greeting with a brief nod at the least. Not here though, and I went past at least 20 individual riders on quiet roads each morning! It's good to know that English cyclists are comparatively friendly...we'll see how the Dutch do again when I next see them en mass, which will be at La Marmotte in July (seems to be a Belgian/Dutch event rather than a French one). I'll post soon with a few details and a piece describing my first attempt at this ride last year.
And on a final note - Dutch cycle paths. All I can say is WOW! Fantastic - wide, well surfaced, well marked, sensibly planned and they give you priority around roundabouts and junctions. On each 2hr ride I don't think I had to touch my foot to the road more than once. Maybe there's some form of inverse relationship between the quality of cycle paths and rider friendliness, because we have, in the UK, some of the worst bike paths I have ever seen, but some of the friendliest riders.
Ik ben Engels, maar mijn fiets houdt van Holland.
Travelling out there was as hassle-free as usual - a couple of hours to get from London onto the Eurotunnel train at Folkestone, a short ride under The Channel, then just over 3hrs driving to Maastricht. We took a quick stop midway to fuel up on coffee (and the kids on sweets) at the petrol station near Brussels, which had a line of seven coffee vending machines. Coffee is a major part of life in Belgium! I'd borrowed a Thule Outrider 531 roof bike rack from a clubmate - highly recommended so long as you have room in the car for the front wheel (the bike is fork-mounted to the lockable rack and is really secure). We probably could have just crammed the bike in the boot, but we wouldn't have had room for the two boxes of wine that we brought back!The only tricky part of the journey was dealing with the Belgian motorway loons. They drive about 3ft off your rear bumper when you're in the fast lane, even though you're a) going very fast already, b) passing a line of slow-moving lorries on the inside lane and c) leaving a decent (read: mimimum that feels safe) amount of room to the car in front. I think they might actually be drafting to save fuel. Nothing like flicking on the rear foglights for a second to see the shocked looks in the rear view mirror! I know I shouldn't, but their driving always winds me up. It's really odd that it always seems confined to the Belgian roads too - as soon as you get onto the French, German or Dutch motorway systems the phenomenon disappears.
Enough about the Belgians though. The cycling in Dutch Limburg is just superb and I ended up doing a solid 2hr ride each day, averaging 200-210W per ride. Good base miles stuff, with a few Level 3 hard efforts thrown in to keep things interesting. I covered quite a lot of the Amstel Gold Race route which takes place this weekend. The town of Valkenburg (where the race ends) is something of a mecca for cyclists in the region, featuring the Cauberg climb at a steady 12%. It's only a short climb but puts paid to the general view that Holland is flat. The south in particular has many short, sharpish climbs to test the legs. Nothing like the Surrey Hills that I'm used to, but still handy for training.It was the holiday weekend, so obviously there were lots of people around, but I never expected to see quite so many cyclists. On Saturday morning there were literally thousands of them, mostly in massive groups of 20-40 riders. Surprisingly miserable buggers too! I only spoke to one other rider, who's English was poor (by Dutch standards - meaning that he wasn't completely fluent - and considerably better than my garbled, gutteral attempts at Dutch). Nearly everyone else ignored me. Now I know that when a big group of club riders go past the other way you are unlikely to get a reaction to a wave (they're concentrating, talking to each other, etc) but usually a single rider on a quiet country road will return a greeting with a brief nod at the least. Not here though, and I went past at least 20 individual riders on quiet roads each morning! It's good to know that English cyclists are comparatively friendly...we'll see how the Dutch do again when I next see them en mass, which will be at La Marmotte in July (seems to be a Belgian/Dutch event rather than a French one). I'll post soon with a few details and a piece describing my first attempt at this ride last year.
And on a final note - Dutch cycle paths. All I can say is WOW! Fantastic - wide, well surfaced, well marked, sensibly planned and they give you priority around roundabouts and junctions. On each 2hr ride I don't think I had to touch my foot to the road more than once. Maybe there's some form of inverse relationship between the quality of cycle paths and rider friendliness, because we have, in the UK, some of the worst bike paths I have ever seen, but some of the friendliest riders.
Ik ben Engels, maar mijn fiets houdt van Holland.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Pig in a poke
I had an offer of a lift to Hog Hill on Saturday from a fellow Dynamo for the 3rds/4ths Whitewebbs CC circuit race. So I though ... hmmm, why not? I'd never been to the Hill before and knew nothing about it. I did know that I wouldn't have the chance to race for another two weeks, so it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.
On reflection, I wish I'd stayed at home and gone for a longer ride in the Surrey Hills. The drizzle forecast for most of the day cleared and we were treated to a beautiful day of sunshine, which I would have appreciated if I weren't sweating my way up that bloody hill every lap! What a race! The field was quite strong anyway, with a break of 10 or so riders getting away pretty early, followed by another smaller group of chasers. So early on it was clear that points were unlikely for the bunch - Hog Hill seems to be a great circuit for exciting racing, as the hill tends to help facilitate breaks getting away and staying away. After about lap 5 I noticed that there were a few riders who had gone backwards out of the bunch, and this pattern remained for much of the race - the hill would shell a rider or two most laps. At about lap 11 that rider was me! I knew that bloody hill would do for me - the longish draggy approach was fine, even into the fairly strong wind, but the final ramping up of the last 100m did a - ahem - larger rider no favours at all. I chased for a lap, got back on, went back off again on the hill, and used the remaining laps as training - let's call it a reverse solo breakaway!
Some pertinent facts - average speed up until I bailed was 21.6 mph, car journey time there was 1.5hrs, home was 2hrs. What with getting to my clubmate's house as well (he did OK in the end, coming in at the front of the chasing bunch) the race took up 7 hours of my day for 1.5hrs riding. As much as the circuit is great I think it's unlikely I'll be going again - the logistics are just too tricky from SW London. Seven hours of riding in the sunshine would have given me the opportunity instead to do my first 100-miler of the year (with time for a good lunch thrown in too, rather than a hastily-grabbed Snickers bar at Hog Hill).
Now that I know about it, if the opportunity arises again I think I'll just say no. Roll on Hillingdon, Chertsey and Crystal Palace...
On reflection, I wish I'd stayed at home and gone for a longer ride in the Surrey Hills. The drizzle forecast for most of the day cleared and we were treated to a beautiful day of sunshine, which I would have appreciated if I weren't sweating my way up that bloody hill every lap! What a race! The field was quite strong anyway, with a break of 10 or so riders getting away pretty early, followed by another smaller group of chasers. So early on it was clear that points were unlikely for the bunch - Hog Hill seems to be a great circuit for exciting racing, as the hill tends to help facilitate breaks getting away and staying away. After about lap 5 I noticed that there were a few riders who had gone backwards out of the bunch, and this pattern remained for much of the race - the hill would shell a rider or two most laps. At about lap 11 that rider was me! I knew that bloody hill would do for me - the longish draggy approach was fine, even into the fairly strong wind, but the final ramping up of the last 100m did a - ahem - larger rider no favours at all. I chased for a lap, got back on, went back off again on the hill, and used the remaining laps as training - let's call it a reverse solo breakaway!
Some pertinent facts - average speed up until I bailed was 21.6 mph, car journey time there was 1.5hrs, home was 2hrs. What with getting to my clubmate's house as well (he did OK in the end, coming in at the front of the chasing bunch) the race took up 7 hours of my day for 1.5hrs riding. As much as the circuit is great I think it's unlikely I'll be going again - the logistics are just too tricky from SW London. Seven hours of riding in the sunshine would have given me the opportunity instead to do my first 100-miler of the year (with time for a good lunch thrown in too, rather than a hastily-grabbed Snickers bar at Hog Hill).
Now that I know about it, if the opportunity arises again I think I'll just say no. Roll on Hillingdon, Chertsey and Crystal Palace...
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
It's not about the bike...!
So my wife had a quick read of this blog. Aside from the comments about the boring details and technical aspects that she had no interest in, she did mention my fawning references to my Isaac. "You save your nicest comments for your bike rather than your family".
Oh dear! I have a lovely wife and three great kids - they're great and give me more pleasure than any bicycle.
Despite saying to myself that I'm not going to race for a couple of weeks, I am very tempted to try to get to Hog Hill this Saturday - I've not been yet and have heard good things about the circuit. A shame that the journey out there is a bit of a trek. Next week is planned to be an easy week as we are off to Holland (Maastricht) for a few days. I'm taking the bike and plan to do some gentle rides in an area where cars don't treat you as an irritating annoyance (at best). I've lost count in the past couple of months of the number of times cars have aimed at me down narrow streets, expecting me to stop completely so they can squeeze past without having to even slow down. Total arrogance. I'm looking forwards to a couple of climbs of the Cauberg in Valkenburg to see how it measures up, overdosing on coffee, frites, mayo and bitterballen and trying not to drink too much beer. That last bit will be tougher than any climb!
Oh dear! I have a lovely wife and three great kids - they're great and give me more pleasure than any bicycle.
Despite saying to myself that I'm not going to race for a couple of weeks, I am very tempted to try to get to Hog Hill this Saturday - I've not been yet and have heard good things about the circuit. A shame that the journey out there is a bit of a trek. Next week is planned to be an easy week as we are off to Holland (Maastricht) for a few days. I'm taking the bike and plan to do some gentle rides in an area where cars don't treat you as an irritating annoyance (at best). I've lost count in the past couple of months of the number of times cars have aimed at me down narrow streets, expecting me to stop completely so they can squeeze past without having to even slow down. Total arrogance. I'm looking forwards to a couple of climbs of the Cauberg in Valkenburg to see how it measures up, overdosing on coffee, frites, mayo and bitterballen and trying not to drink too much beer. That last bit will be tougher than any climb!
Monday, 30 March 2009
I can't think...!
Can you think on the bike? I don't mean simply to function ("there's a car", "that pothole looks nasty", "how long till a cake stop?") but actually think about more important things?
I went out on a ride into the Surrey Hills today to try and get my head around my next career steps. I was made redundant from my last job (I was based in a large bank and was, like many, a credit crunch victim) and have found that work is becoming harder to pick up. So today was supposed to be a gentle spin of the legs in lovely countryside to stimulate the old grey matter and come up with some ideas as to what I might do if the lack of work continues for an extended length of time (developing a 'Plan B'). Ideally I will pick up some more business analysis work, but the current economic climate might dictate a more dramatic shift towards new career opportunities.
Having now reflected on my ride, I can categorically state that I cannot think on the bike. It's impossible! To get to a place where I can think creatively means switching off such vital defence mechanisms as anticipation and heightened awareness. I remember a book (well, I remember the content of a book rather than the title of the book) that was given to everyone by the founding director when I worked in an internet design agency, which advocated essentially 'switching off' when trying to solve a problem, assuming that you had first tried to analyse the problem from every angle and had spent sufficient time absorbed in the problem-solving activity. The basic assumption was that you needed some mental 'distance' from the problem-solving activity in order to come up with the unique solution. It always reminded me of a passage in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (well, one of the latter books by Douglas Adams anyway) where Arthur Dent was learning to fly. According to the book we all have an innate ability to fly, but the knack lies in "learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss". Well, Arthur managed it by being distracted at last moment, forgetting he was in mid-air and consequently soaring skywards.
So maybe I was unable to come up with a solution to my current work predicament whilst on the bike because I wasn't suitably distracted, and was still trying too hard to find the solution. Sounds like a bit of a cop-out though, doesn't it?
On another note, I received some pictures from a clubmate of his bike following a 'dispute' he and another rider had with a moving vehicle (driver pulled out from a side road in front of them on a long descent). Luckily they avoided major injury. I'll have to ask him if he was trying to solve a problem at the time and whether he had any 'lightbulb moment'. At least some thought other than "how will I get back from the hospital". RIP, Jamie's Colnago...
Think I'll try and do my thinking off the bike from now on.
I went out on a ride into the Surrey Hills today to try and get my head around my next career steps. I was made redundant from my last job (I was based in a large bank and was, like many, a credit crunch victim) and have found that work is becoming harder to pick up. So today was supposed to be a gentle spin of the legs in lovely countryside to stimulate the old grey matter and come up with some ideas as to what I might do if the lack of work continues for an extended length of time (developing a 'Plan B'). Ideally I will pick up some more business analysis work, but the current economic climate might dictate a more dramatic shift towards new career opportunities.
Having now reflected on my ride, I can categorically state that I cannot think on the bike. It's impossible! To get to a place where I can think creatively means switching off such vital defence mechanisms as anticipation and heightened awareness. I remember a book (well, I remember the content of a book rather than the title of the book) that was given to everyone by the founding director when I worked in an internet design agency, which advocated essentially 'switching off' when trying to solve a problem, assuming that you had first tried to analyse the problem from every angle and had spent sufficient time absorbed in the problem-solving activity. The basic assumption was that you needed some mental 'distance' from the problem-solving activity in order to come up with the unique solution. It always reminded me of a passage in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (well, one of the latter books by Douglas Adams anyway) where Arthur Dent was learning to fly. According to the book we all have an innate ability to fly, but the knack lies in "learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss". Well, Arthur managed it by being distracted at last moment, forgetting he was in mid-air and consequently soaring skywards.
So maybe I was unable to come up with a solution to my current work predicament whilst on the bike because I wasn't suitably distracted, and was still trying too hard to find the solution. Sounds like a bit of a cop-out though, doesn't it?
On another note, I received some pictures from a clubmate of his bike following a 'dispute' he and another rider had with a moving vehicle (driver pulled out from a side road in front of them on a long descent). Luckily they avoided major injury. I'll have to ask him if he was trying to solve a problem at the time and whether he had any 'lightbulb moment'. At least some thought other than "how will I get back from the hospital". RIP, Jamie's Colnago...
Think I'll try and do my thinking off the bike from now on.
Friday, 27 March 2009
Turbo Trainer Trials
I've often wondered why training on the turbo seems so much harder than on the road. Is it because there's no change in scenery? Because intervals are the main reason for jumping on the trainer? The weather is too inclement to do proper riding?No - none of the above. Instead I've made a rod for my own back. I've told the family (and specifically my wife) that I enjoy cycling on the turbo. This was a necessary statement to avoid the impression that I was actually mad. You see, it wouldn't take much (read: at all) to give me the excuse not to turbo train. The mere thought of a comment along the lines of "Why don't you just take a break for the day - you don't really enjoy it" would be enough for me to kick off the Specializeds and pull on the slippers. So I have to grin and bear it if I want to improve my fitness. That means literally grinning each time my wife or the kids look out of the window (I do my turbo training in the garden to at least get some fresh air). Grinning back when my HR is at 98% of max. Grinning when my legs are screaming at me. Grinning when I've just started an interval for 3 minutes aiming for 353W (so much harder on the turbo that on the road) and, instead of Metallica or Fatboy Slim to motivate me, my daughter's party music takes over on the iPod and I get Steps' Don't Stop Moving - how the hell did that get onto the playlist? In fact it isn't too bad, but wrong tempo. See, the turbo will make you admit to everything!
For the record, I decided to do a 20 minute max effort as a marker to see if I've improved over the past 3 months. Rather gratified to find out that the power has increased over the 20 minutes by 25 watts - not going to break any records, but might be useful in that stylish, race-winning break!
Incidentally the picture was taken in February this year, just after the major snowfall in London - nothing like being chased by Frosty the Snowman for motivating you to pedal faster!
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
My Isaac
A quick post to show my 'for best' bike, with flat-course race wheels fitted. I love my Isaac - fast, comfortable and, most importantly, looks stunning. Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder! If I were an aesthete the saddle would be replaced with a white Selle Italia SLR XP, but for me the black version will do. I've never been one to slavishly follow the cycling fashion (for instance I don't shave my legs, a habit I view as slightly ridiculous, but that's another story) and really do not see why bar tape and saddle have to match.
I very recently got the bike back from Sigma Sport following the Isaac recall to inspect the steerer tube for damage and have the spacer height reduced by 1cm - I'm fitter and more flexible than I was when I was measured for the bike over a year ago. I took the opportunity to fit new stem and bars (3T Arx and Ergosum 'compact' bars, which are really, really comfortable) and replace the old ITM Millennium deep-drop bars, which I could never get on with. Poor advice from the bike shop when I was fitted, I think - too much emphasis on the measurements of the frame, ignoring the dimensions of the bars (reach, drop, etc).
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