DNF

Stonehenge 200km. May 17th.

OK, let me just list out in rough chronological order the things that went wrong on the ride yesterday:

1) It rained. Not just a little bit but big time. Torrential downpour for around 3 hours then gusty showers for the rest of the day.

2) I got wet. Not just a little bit but really really wet. You would not believe how wet.

3) The roads were flooded. Cycling through 2 to 3 inches of water at times, streams running down the sides of roads etc

4) 50km, first puncture. Rear tyre. Why is it always the rear tyre that's the harder of the two to fix?

5) 75km, second puncture. Rear tyre again...

6) 100km lunch stop. Nice plate of bacon eggs and chips. I grab the salt cellar and pour it on the chips. That's quite a big salt cellar I was thinking and hm, the granules are quite big as well. Oh turds, I've just poured a pile of sugar on my chips.

7) "Stonehenge 200km". You know, I was sort of expecting the ride to actually go past Stonehedge. I've never seen it and would like to have. Well, I saw a brown tourist sign pointing to Stonehenge and a tourist bus marked "Stonehenge tour" but that was it. I think we went near it though.

8) Military police. Why did you stop me cycling along the road just so one of your army buddies on some mountain bike event could go across it?

9) Watercress festival??? After 160km the last thing I want is a 5km diversion because a village has shut it's high street to have a watercress festival. Watercress festival? Please.

10) 165km my trip computer packs up. Waterlogged probably. Not helpful when the route sheet says "at 171.8km turn right into unmarked road". Er, right, what road's that then...

11) 175km, third puncture. Rear tyre again (and yes, they were all different punctures before anyone asks whether I fixed it properly before). But alas I was only carrying two spare tubes so that's it, I'm shagged, no way of getting back to base now. The air was blue in that country lane. Decide to cycle along with flat rear tyre for a bit to the next village to find help. Can't be far, surely?

12) 185km Yes, it was 10km to the next village. 10km on a flat tyre... Found a garage, called a taxi and bagged my first "Did not finish" for a couple of years.

But apart from that it was a great day out.

Who's that girl?

High Easter 210km.

Managed to pick the wrong day of the long weekend to spend the day on a bike with Saturday and Sunday being lovely and Monday being a little cold, wet and breezy.

A really big group for the 210km ride, around 100 or so riders and it soon settled down into the lead pack of around 30, a second pack (all from one club) of around 20 and then the remainder. I tucked into my normal position, smack at the back of the lead pack where the work rate is least and you only need to worry about yourself, not what's going on directly behind you.

Alas though if you are at the back of the pack you are rather at the mercy of whoever is at the front - most Audax rides the lead pack is "brisk but consistent", they crank it up to around 27 to 30km / hr and grind away. This time around though a girl at the front had other ideas, she was engaging in road racing tactics with the speed being continually varied from 25km up to 40km+ / hr, loads of surges up hills, round corners etc. A consistent fast pace is good, the body adapts to it but surges like this were a killer and not something any of us were used to (except the girl at the front, I guess...).

We were aided by a following wind but the first 50km was dispached in 1hr 20 mins at a blistering average of 38km / hr. I had debated many times whether I should drop off the back but it's always best to stick with the pack if you can - short term pain (of the increased pace) versus long term gain (of the overall workload being less by being in a pack). Thankfully whilst we were all catching our breath at the first rest stop she decided that 30 seconds break was enough and off she went on her own, never to be seen again, leaving behind 30 wild eyed knackered guys asking "Who's that girl?".

Thankfully sanity then returned and the pack now cruised along at it's usual tempo for the next 70km before alas the combination of rain showers, grit on country lanes and thin summer tyres then picking up the wet grit led to the inevitable puncture, my first of the season, leaving me all on my own for the next 40km, a withering stretch into a headwind with my legs grumbling somewhat now from the earlier efforts.

The last rest stop at 150km was littered with semi-dead cyclists, all asking "Who's that girl, and why did she kill us all". A little group of 3 of us set off for home, 60km to go, thankfully now with a tailwind again most of the way, and Megans "red tonic" pure caffiene gels (I love that stuff) helping give me a second wind.

By far the fastest 200k ride I've ever done, an average ride pace of just under 29km / hr which would have been 30km(+?) / hr but for the puncture and having to do 40km on my own which dragged the average down quite a bit. Totally wasted last night, really really spaced out for 3 or 4 hours after the ride and feel like pants today. Hey ho, only 5 weeks to go before the Raid now.

The fast and the furious: the power of the pack

Witham 200km audax, Sunday 19th.

Training is coming along well, circa 1,000 miles down by mid April is pretty good going. I did the Witham 200km last year and it was such a nice ride that I signed up again this year. There was a really good turnout, over 50 for the 200km ride alone and the same again I would guess for the 150km and 100km rides. Each ride was (basically) a widening concentric circle, following initially the same route and then joining up again for the last 50km or so.

A chilly start with a moderate north easterly wind. Alas the first 100km were into said north-easterly. I managed to tuck into the front of the leading pack, sitting just behind three people from Colchester Rovers http://www.colchester-rovers.org.uk/ who were setting a lovely pace and doing a lot of hard work into the wind, taking the pack along at circa 26km / hr into the headwind, a huge credit to them. Alas after 35km I had to stop to "water the bushes", thinking it would be OK and I would be able to pace myself back up to the pack. Setting off no more than a minute later alas I was then all alone facing the wind myself and even after stepping up the work rate considerably I was catching them very much in the negative sense. 40 minutes later and legs burning I conceded defeat and gave up the chase and was eventually swallowed up by a group of 5 who had fallen off the back of the pack earlier, we then rode as a small group all the way to the 100km lunch stop over in Manningtree, alongside the Thames Estuary.

Now, with the hard work into the wind done and the lead pack now reformed with around 10 of us, everything all got a bit racy - we knew we had a 100km blast all the way home with a steady tailwind and pace was quickly cranked up into the low to mid 30's, just flying along. After 130km we rejoined the tail of the 150km route where the Colchester trio turned into little attack dogs - every now and then they would spy some laggards from the 150km ride in the distance ahead of us and the pace would be cranked bit by bit before one final blast past the poor souls. I've had it happen to me a number of times in the past, it's so demoralizing being "chewed up and spat out the back" by a pack, the pack is gone before you even get a chance to up your pace and hang onto their tailcoats. Without it wishing to be perceived as arrogant it was nice to be on the giving end for a change. It's also testament to the power of the pack and how well the pace was controlled that we'd gained an astonishing 50km of road distance on these other riders - and some of them were in packs themselves - we really were on a flyer. I won't claim any credit whatsoever for it, the Colchester trio just sat there at the front pretty much all day long doing all the hard work, I just sat following their back tyres for most of the time.

By far the fastest 200km I've done and feeling it today - legs are fine but head is all a bit fuzzy, lack of sugars, salts etc.

Outbound 100km, average 26.2km
Return 100km, average 30.2km
Poor souls from the 150km ride we chewed up & spat out: around half of the 50 starters, don't think they were terribly amused...

I'll huff and I'll puff

My first 200km ride of the season. In fact my first 200km since last June and the toughest ride since the Etape last July. As one finds out to ones cost hitting the spin sessions in the gym for 45 minutes may maintain some base level of fitness but doesn't really prepare you for 9 hours on a bike...

The ride was a nice route through rolling Essex countryside, the first 50km being spent in small packs of 3 or 4, going along at a good pace. The directions however were a little hit and miss and alas the groups kept splintering at each dubious routesheet entry and I found myself on my own just about at the time that the route took a sharp right turn and went headlong into what was an increasingly growing wind. This I have to admit got rather depressing, battling away on my own into a stiff wind with average speed dropping all the time for 2.5 hours / 50km tested my soul somewhat.

The route was a lazy figure of 8 and the mid point at 100km was back at the clubhut where we had started. Over a quick bite of lunch my head was down and my legs were tired and knowing that my car was a 1 minute walk away round the corner was not helping. Watching the veterans saddle up and roll out for the second half spurred me on so off I went. I hoped to catch them up and join their group but alas it never happened so guess what - yes, another 2.5hrs / 50km battling into a still increasing headwind. By this time I was mainlining full fat Coke and energy bars and the spirits were badly sagging knowing that there was still another 50km to go. The 150km reststop was at a fish and chip shop and oh boy I have never tasted such a good bowl of chips, laden with loads of salt and vinegar, demolished in double quick time.

The last 50km were once again totally on my own but thankfully with a generally following wind. The mind and the legs were both struggling by the end and I was having the odd spasm through my left arm which was probably my body trying to tell me something...

The ride set off at 8am and just before I set off I threw my set of lights into the pack "just in case I was longer than my planned 7.5 to 8.5 hours". 10 hours later with lights ablazing I finally reached the clubhut again, very tired in my head and weary in my legs. None of the course was brutal, it was just a long continual slog and somewhat of a shock to the system.

My admiration lies with the two veterans who did the course on a "fixed" - with a fixed you only have one gear, and no freewheel - so the art is in choosing before the ride which gear to put on the bike for the entire course. These two guys were double my age, had one gear versus my 30, had a steel bike versus my carbon fiber and rolled in just a couple of minutes behind me - really quite inspiring.

The food consumption for the ride will be amusing:
Night before - massive plate of pasta
Breakfast - porridge, can of coke
During the ride - 5 further cans of coke, 3 litres energy / anti-lactic drink, 3 litres water, 3 energy bars (1,000 calories a piece), 2 packets energy sweets, 1 gel tube of caffeine (thanks Megan for introducing me to this...), 2 ham baguettes, a slice of bread and butter putting and a lovely steaming bowl of chips.

The clue was in the title

"Mad Jack Fullers", 120km out of Hailsham.

The pre-ride notes said that this was a 120km ride with 2,500m of climb. On paper that didn't sound too severe but in reality this was a really toughie, not helped that I've not really had my serious cycling shoes on since finishing the Etape last July. 2,500m of climb up a mountain is pretty straightforward, you find a gear and grind away for an hour or two. Mad Jack though had other ideas, bouncing the route in a saw-tooth fashion up and over the Sussex downs a few dozen times. This is the type of ride I always struggle with, up for 5 minutes, down the other side in 30 seconds, brake sharply at the bottom as you cross the river and round the corner and then up and over again - repeat all day long, always changing through the gears, never settling into a rhythm... I was pretty demolished after 80km and was glad to see the rest of the ride was a little less bumpy. On a brighter note the sun was out, what a lovely lovely day after all the horrible winter weather we've had.

Bumped into an Audax veteran on the ride and chatted to him for a few minutes {before he cruised on ahead going up a hill...}. Got chatting about the Paris-Brest-Paris ride, oft consider as the ultimate Audax - a 1,200km ride from Paris to Brest (the very western tip of Brittany) and back again - non stop with a max time of 90 hours (the quickest do it in circa 45 hours, just astonishing - get on a bike, go pretty much flat out for 45 hours?????). So here was I suffering after 80km and this guy was 64 years old and he tells me that when he does the Paris-Brest-Paris he cycles there, and then once he's finished he cycles back home again "to make a good trip of it". Yours truly humbled....

Snow fun with a bust rib

So as the initial swelling from my mountain bike / skydive accident reduced the underlying problem became clear - a bust rib. 4 weeks on it no longer hurts to laugh but coughing or sneezing still brings a tear to my eye. Finally got back on a spin bike, then a normal bike towards the end of the month - only now to have the country under 6 foot of snow.

Finally managed my first proper training ride of the season last weekend, a 150km audax over the Chilterns. This was the first "proper" ride I've done since the Etape last year and it sure gave the legs a bit of a wake up call. It didn't help that I arrived for the 9am start only to see that it was alas an 8am start, so I spent almost the entire ride on my own, chasing down shadows, finally catching up with a couple of people who had had mechanical issues. Bit lonely out on the roads on a bike in January when all your fellow riders are 45 minutes ahead of you...

Scores on the doors for the month - 275km on my race bike, a few hours mountain bike (including 3 seconds airborn) and half a dozen spin classes.

Bring on the spring!

Attempted to enter the record books

So last weekend I make a valiant attempt to enter the record books as Bishops Stortfords first man in space.

My attempt was launched not from a conventional rocket launch pad but from the top of a steep earth mound. My propellant was not rocket fuel but pedal power, from my mountain bike.

The concept was that if whilst accelerating down the steep earth mound one jams ones front tyre, one will then get flung at some speed and height over the handlebars and ultimately achieve lunar orbit. Alas, in my case gravity proved too much and after a second or so of free flight I hit the frozen ground like a 75kg sack of potatoes, making a fine "crump" noise as my internal organs bashed together and all the air in my body was expelled. I did for a few seconds think I had achieved lunar orbit as there were a dazzling display of stars in my eyes but alas everything then went black for a while...

For a while whilst I lay there flat out on the ground unable to move I thought it was going to be ambulance time but thankfully not, just a badly bashed head, shoulder & ribcage, along with a glancing blow to the knee as my bike cartwheeled over the top of me.

And my abiding memory - the three lads playing footie in the field, one of them shouted out "ooh, that's gotta hurt". Yup, you were right - it hurt then and it still does now, 10 days later. Alas I'm going to have to scrub the first training ride of the season which was this weekend in Brighton, hurts too much to do a serious ride.