First race of the year

Hillingdon. Bleugh! Not my favourite circuit, especially not with a raging wind howling down the back straight. The 3rds race on Sunday was an extra date in the Imperial Winter Series (I can never make the Saturday ones) to make up for the three cancelled races caused by the heavy snowfall at the end of last year.

This was always going to be a fitness-tester for me, so I was relaxed and carefree dawdling up to the start line. It was good to see that there was a women’s race on there too. I don’t know why the number of womens’ races seems to have declined over the past few years as there always seems to be plenty of enthusiasm when they are on.

Anyhow, the race – sprint, corner, swerve to avoid dodgy handling, coast, sprint – ah, this was the Hillingdon I remembered! The wind meant that breaks of ones and twos were unlikely to stick, but I still tried my best when I saw Andy from Kingston Wheelers jump off the front. Unfortunately after I caught him and did a turn we realised that no one else had the slightest intention of coming across.

The final laps were the usual slow-slower bunching, expecially on the back straight, with the exception of a 16yr old who popped off the front and stayed out there to claim the win. I’d had enough by the final lap and decided to go to the front and pull the bunch round the last half lap, sacrificing sprint chances to ensure a safer finish. Without properly sprinting I just managed to hang on for 10th spot, so as a fitness tester I was reasonably pleased. The new Enve wheels were awesome as well – snappy and aero.

If only I was able to get to more races…!

3 minutes

Spin faster. This turbo’s making a bit of a grinding noise. I can hear it even over the headphones and with the music cranked up to max volume. I wonder how hot the rear tyre is getting? That plant needs watering. Bizarre, so much rain and this thing looks dehydrated. I feel dehydrated. Cold beer? Why thank you, that would be lovely, but you see I’m half-killing myself here for…ummm… for another 135 seconds. You see I’ve already done 45 seconds of this last interval, and I’ve been at this for 50 minutes now. Maybe some water? No, I’m too out of breath to be able to drink. If I stretch down to my bottle I’ll back off the pedals a fraction and won’t be able to get spinning back up. My average power will drop by a watt at least. Why does this matter? Watt does it matter. Ha ha delirious laughter if I had the breath to make a sound. Am I dehydrated like that plant? Pineapple slices. Wow, that would be good, juicy pineapple. Here comes the chorus, let’s try and match the cadence to the beat. Christ that’s hard work. Hey, my average just went up one watt. Maybe I could slacken off a tad in the last 5 seconds now. God, last five seconds, how long do I have left? What, still 2 minutes? I’m nowhere near halfway through this interval. I’m at about 35%. That’s a total fail. What did we have to get to pass exams at school for O-levels? Pretty sure it was 55% minimum. Right, I won’t look down at the CPU until I’m at least 55% into this interval. That’s…ummmm….hang on…100 seconds, roughly, which is…urrrm…1minute 40 seconds. Why is maths so bloody hard on a turbo. Will I get to hear the best bit of this song before the end of the session? If I look down at the CPU before 1 minute 40 seconds I will erupt in a ball of flames and fail the interval. No question. Can I switch my mind off and stop thinking. I’ll try. That’s it, just listen to the music. I’m pacing Wiggins up the Ventoux climb. Crowd screaming, I’m trying to breath through my nose and keep my mouth shut. Hey, this is no big deal, look how easy I’m taking it. Jesus, was that my heart skipping a beat there? Now it’s galloping. This can’t be right. Am I imaging this? If I look at the CPU though I’ll fail the interval. Did I say that? I think I did, about 20 seconds ago. No, my heart’s really galloping, I’m sure it’s going about 200bpm, something’s not right, better check. Just a quick look, not at the time but at the HR. It’s … oh, that’s alright, it’s 174. No need to panic or call an ambulance. 1 minute 55 seconds! I looked. I honestly didn’t mean to, but I did, and now I have I’m so happy. Nearly 66% done. I’ve passed my O-level. That’s a grade…what, would that have been a B or a C? No matter, by now it’s only 60 seconds to go. This song is bloody going on and on. When’s the best bit – is it after the next chorus? I think sweat has dripped into my ear – the right hand earphone sounds really bassy. This right hand cleat needs sorting – my foot keeps wiggling around on the downstroke. Hey, a gust of wind. That was nice. Keep stomping, keep stomping. If I get to the crest of this imaginary hill before the end of the chorus I just need to floor it for 30 seconds. Ham sandwiches, with loads of English mustard. Next to a cool slowly flowing river. Lemonade, ice cubes clinking in the sunlight. If I look down and have less than 30 seconds to go I will be so happy. Shall I have a peek at the CPU? No, not for another 10 words of this song. What the hell is he singing anyway? Why scream about a mosquito? That must be 2 minutes 30 seconds now. Yes! I’m over halfway through this last minute of the last 3-minute interval from hell. I’m possibly halfway through my life. God, that’s worrying. Why does life pass so quickly but turbo minutes pass so slowly. Was there any whisky left in that bottle from Christmas? I might have a nip after this. Here’s the best bit of the song. If I don’t look at the CPU until this best bit is over I reckon I’ll be at 2 mins 58 seconds. Thump, thump, thump, soaring, pounding guitar, screaming vocals, the quick stuttered fade-down and I must be done, on…what…shit! 2 mins 50 seconds. Push, push. What’s that thudding? Oh, my heart. If a tile fell off the roof right now it would probably land on my head. Man found dead in garden, bike wheels still spinning, surrounded by small chips of terracotta. Like one of those school questions – a man in the middle of a cornfield but none of the corn has been trampled, how did he get there? Parachute didn’t open. Why do I keep thinking about school? My legs are on fire, my throat feels ragged, let it all stop … 2 minutes 56, 57, push harder, I’m leading Cav out for the sprint, faster, 58, don’t slow down, 59, my work is done, yes! 3 minutes! Take that, you bastard turbo, victory is mine. Uuurgh, my legs are trembling. HR dropping beat by beat, I’m going to spin until it gets back down to 120 then I’m off. I hope there’s some whisky left. Pint of water and a small whisky – perfect. It’s what Tom Simpson would have done, I’m sure. And maybe a small square of chocolate.

Happy New Year

Well it’s been a while! The customary post-Christmas increase in mileage has begun in an attempt to shed the extra kilos (3kg to loose by the beginning of March) and get back to the weight I was last autumn. I’ve been looking at my training schedule as well (home-produced) to try and emulate the autumn period where I felt I was going pretty well. Last year my form seemed to desert me in July and August and I’m keen to avoid this happening again.

So, long-ish cold, windy, wet rides will be the order of the day. I’ve extended my commute as well to take in the Embankment route instead of a more direct A3 route. Along with increasing the distance by 2 miles in each direction it has the additional benefit of having far fewer traffic lights. I feel as though I an a free spirit on my bike again, rather than being constrained by the signals developed to slow the flow of traffic into London.

Christmas was spent in India with family and it was lovely to leave snowy cold weather for 27 degree sunshine, even if my break was cut short by 3 days due to delays in the outward journey. My wife took some great photos of their trip to a wildlife park (having family in senior positions within the Forestry Commission helped to get the kids up close and personal with some tigers) which I’ll post on here soon, just to prove that I’m not all about cycling!