Go big or go home

After experiencing a distinct lack of traction in the Culham mud on 9mm spikes, I decided Id definitely need to get a set of longer spikes. I had intended to fit a set of longer spikes before the Culham round, but crawling around the insides of power stations and a bit of globetrotting put paid to that.

So this weekend, after a nice fast training run, I wandered over and got myself a set of 15mm spikes. Cool, huh?

Character building...

I won't even pretend to understand Cross Country. It is mad. A bunch of seemingly rational people running through knee deep mud in the stinging rain on the first day of an English winter.

The weather wasn't looking good, a howling westerly and "heavy rain" on the BBC's 24-hour forecast. After a short hop on the cosy train to Didcot Parkway, then wrapped up snug in suitably fit-for-purpose lycra, neoprene and other wonderful synthetic materials, I gently rode the easy 10km to Culham Park, the venue for the second round of the Oxford XC League.

The access road was a quagmire, and my bike soon looked more like a crosser than a roadie for all the mud. A precursor of what was to come.

I spent a while trying to locate the club tent only to discover that in attempting to erect it, the tent had almost blown away so race HQ ended up being the boot of Bill's car. After getting changed, but still wrapped up in as much synthetic wonder fabric as had with me, I decided to check out the course. Fortunately from the top of the hill nearly the whole course was visible, or so I was led to believe - all I could see was mud.

Before long it was time to warm up, shed layers and head to the start. As it turns out, the start area approximately comprised a sort of shallow muddy puddle about 1" deep. The gun fired and we were go.

I was keen to get up with the quicker runners, so I got up to speed quickly and moved my way up the pack. The opening stretch was wet but fairly solid underfoot, so I felt quite happy and got into a nice fast stride.

All too soon we reached the first turn and the start of uncharted territory; the solid sparsely grassed ground was swapped for a muddy cut up field. It was a soft, squishy sort of mud. It was mostly at least 200-300mm deep; or at least that is where your foot would stop sinking. Some had their shoes sucked off by the mud! It didn't feel like running, every step was a battle; trying to keep the pace I was rapidly heading for the red.

The course then turned to head along the Thames. The mud was just as bad, but fortunately a narrow grass border provided some respite; although slippery, it was at least relatively firm.

But now the new enemy was the killer headwind that we found ourselves heading into, and it was relentless. It was now about 1km into the race and I was burning. Trying to stay upright, trying to find some traction and push myself forwards, it was all killing me. It was nothing like running at all - not running as I've known it anyways. To add insult, I found myself just heading steadily backwards. I was putting in all I had and I was being passed like I was standing still, the old hands seemingly skimming effortlessly over the mud.

After what felt like an age, it was time to turn for a quick blast across a (thankfully firm) grassy meadow, then back onto a muddy track ready to run up a steep bank, back down again and then back up. For me the climbs, steep and sharp, were a respite of sorts. I think my power-to-weight helps a lot and with the banks being grassy, I was able to get purchase and drive my way up fairly easily. I was able to make up some ground and a few places but before long we were starting lap two (of three), I was back in the mud and losing ground badly.

And this is where I think I started to really experience what cross country is all about. The rain was lashing down, and into the headwind the drops mercilessly stung my face. My muscles were screaming, not just my legs but my whole body! Voices in me screamed, "Stop! Just stop! You can stop!" All I had was my will. I had to keep going. For me. I was completely out of my depth, like in those dreams when you arrive at the velodrome with a BMX. All wrapped up in my misery I was innocently nudged by another runner passing me and I fell into the mud. I dragged myself back up and willed my feet to get me back up to speed. Before long I was back on the steep climbs, and incredibly I found myself making up places.

Running in the mud still felt alien, but I was starting to get the hang of it. Heading into the wind for the last time I accelerated and felt the closest to a rhythm that I'd felt all through the race. The stinging rain didn't matter anymore, the mud didn't seem to be dragging at me quite as much. Turning across the meadow I sped up a bit more still, and took back a few more places. Accelerating up the climbs I was burning, but now it was like a drug. I couldn't get enough so I went faster still. On the final stretch some guys from the team were cheering me in, my legs moved faster and I picked off one, two, three other runners. Too knackered to note my position or stop my watch, I found a spot to squat down and catch my breath.

According to the results online (http://www.oxonxc.org/), I came 82nd, in 39'17", and in doing so contributed to the club's first team retaining the top spot in the league.

I've never felt so completely hopeless or clueless in sport, but I've also never had such an acute sense of achievement. I still have a lot to lean about cross country running, and in the bargain I know I have a lot to learn about myself. What a wonderful journey.

1:30 is quite a bit

I got hold of the GATA results - Ian Mc did 1:30 on me, which is a fair gap, 18s per km! Which leaves me some work to do.

So with that in mind, I took my shoes to the office to get a bit of lunchtime training in. Truth be told, I've been a little lazy with training, just relying on my base fitness for good results, but being beaten by Ian, and wanting to get closer to the front at the next XC race, I think a bit of training might be a good idea.

So today was a nice half hour amble through the "woods" and past the fields close to the office. Though cold, it was a perfect day and made for a relaxing break in what was a rather crazy day. Anyhow, Bathurst and the hill up to the Toposcope call, which will make for some good hill training!

The final GATA

I can’t remember what GATA stands for, suffice to say that for some reason my brain always reads “Gator” and associates it rather furious and vicious activity. Effectively it is the second company running race series (the other being the running club’s Gallileo), set up (broadly speaking) as a competition between the Generation and the Trading businesses – or engineers vs. bean counters. Whatever it maybe, it is a fun and competitive, and a great place for me to gain experience.

So this was the finale, and after my recent performances I was billed as the favourite. That was until some dude named Ian Mc announced that he was going to take part. Now Ian, a top level club racer, is quite legendary for his speed. Excellent, a challenge!

It was a typically English autumn day; cold, damp and threatening to drizzle. I had a good warm up on the treadmill and then headed out to the start line, perhaps a little early. I stood around chatting and trying to stay warm, but soon enough the mob had arrived and we were just about ready to head off.

Once underway, I quickly worked out who Ian was; the skinny guy who seemed to skim along with effortless speed and was already pulling a gap after all of 15m. I shuffled in behind in and kept his pace. At first it was easy, but after a km or so he increased the pace and I started to struggle to keep up. Getting close to the red zone, I figured I’d slow a smidge and keep as close to him and my red line as possible.

So after that, the next 4-odd km was hell. I was hurting badly. My lungs were maxed out and were unable to take in any more oxygen. My legs were right on the edge too; I could feel the acids building up. Nudging my aerobic limits I watched as Ian gradually but surely opened a gap. At first I thought that I was again matching his pace, but slowly he pulled away.

Now the big challenge was all in my head; tap off for an easy 2nd, or keep pushing hard? I pushed. I noticed my shoelace had come loose, a good excuse to stop for a breath – but I rather chose to rely on the lace lock arrangement and press on. I was hurting, burning, but no way was I giving up.

The last few hundred metres of the route are very twisty and I had completely lost sight of Ian. By now I was rapidly filling my legs with lactic acid and greedily gulping every bit of air I could take in. I was flying. Through all the agony my stride felt effortless and I felt unstoppable. I think this is what athletes are addicted to – there really is nothing like it.

I crossed the line in 18:31.41 on my watch (the timekeepers had me at 18:29), easily a PB. I’m not sure what Ian did, but apparently he wasn’t that far ahead of me. It was a totally awesome run. I learnt so much about how far I can push, and how to pace myself. It was great to pick on “someone my own size”, if you know what I mean.

Afterward Ian admitted that I’d pushed him harder than he’d wanted to go, and that he was really hurting too. I took that as a great compliment.

I've put together a training program now, and look forward to Bathurst to get some good mileage in - can't wait for the Culham round of the XC series in the first week of December. 'Till then!

Oxford Mail XC: Ascott-under-Wychwood

I never quite understood why tennis players feel the need to make grunting noises until today.

We started out from home at around 8:30 to catch the 8:47 train to Charlbury, in Oxfordshire; and with the early start both of us managed to forget to take our cameras. After a bit of tension resulting from my particular brand of rushing to make the train on time, the trip itself was calm and painless.

We arrived at Charlbury station bang on time, and emerged from the warm train into a particularly cold and foggy autumn morning in the Cotswolds. Riding in the murk seemed a bad idea, so we pedalled up to the town centre in search of some coffee. After a loop around the town, we found a nice little tea shop that served surprisingly good coffee and rich, airy croissants. The café faced onto what was, I guess, the High Street, though most of the buildings around the narrow lanes were homes. While we sat there a few locals wandered in to buy the paper, some staying for a cup of tea in the bargain – it had a really nice, warm atmosphere. Soon it was time to go and we rolled out of town into the morning.

It was still quite a bit foggy, but with lights I felt reasonably safe and visible. The road was very nice, rolling hills for the 6km over to Ascott-Under-Wychwood where the race would be held. We got there soon enough and I wandered around looking for Dorian (my manager) who’d given me the idea to try out this discipline and helped get my membership at Cirencester AC sorted out. Quickly enough I’d located him and was changed into my spotlessly clean new club kit.

All pre-race prep done, I found myself oddly bored waiting for the gun. It is odd; at a bike race at least you have your bike to nonchalantly languish on. But standing on your two feet, you do tend to feel a bit spare. Thankfully the wait wasn’t too long, and we were underway quite promptly. I was quite surprised at the level of jostling at the start – much like in a bike race, a fair amount of elbowing and pushing. Not making much progress in the bunch, I decided to go around the outside on the first two corners and made up some distance to get in touch with the quicker runners.

The 8.6km course was fairly challenging, a short loop uphill followed by a long rolling downhill to the bottom of the field (where on the 2nd and 3rd laps, we’d run through a water splash) and then up a long (I’d estimate 800m) uphill stretch back to the top of the hill.

I took the first lap (of three) too fast and I started to feel it on the downhill at the start of the second lap. And my right foot started to hurt me, partly as a result of the laces not being tight enough, but also I think from the fairly firm surface and lack of pronation control from my running spikes. I stopped to tighten the laces and continued; this more or less solving the problem - my foot still ached but didn’t get any worse. The icy splash wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it might be, but it did make the long climb that much more arduous.

By the start of the last lap I’d learnt a lot about this XC lark. It was clearly nothing like running on the road; much less rebound to help propel you, and the mud presenting its own challenge in just keeping upright. Which reminds me: 7mm spikes are nowhere near long enough; I’d better get some 9s and 12s for my next outing! But the learning was all good and will surely help me in future races.

On the last lap I concentrated on pacing myself so I could make the best of my apparent climbing advantage. I tried to hold position within reason and kept myself just out of the red on the way down to the bottom. At one point I thought to myself, “this isn’t hurting enough”, but I didn’t want to risk tipping myself over the edge, not yet confident in my ability to pace myself on the grass and mud, so I kept myself just under the red zone.

The hill came soon enough and here I felt comfortable. I opened the taps and soon took a few positions as I scrabbled my way up the now quite mushy slope. I had to be careful and look for grassy patches to make sure I got enough purchase to propel myself up the hill. Now it was hurting. I was going pretty well, and started sprinting about 50m out. I soon hit the red with every ounce of my being focussed on passing one last runner in a yellow vest as we headed for the line. Then I noticed it; I was making the most extraordinary noises – a bizarre cross between a yell and a grunt. It was like a primal war cry, and completely involuntary. I couldn’t stop it.

Then Yellow Vest started sprinting too, I assume spurred on by the sound of a wild animal on his heels, and it was just enough for him. He pipped me to the line where we shook hands.

Once I’d got my breath back, I remembered to stop my watch. The time was just under 37’, so I expect around 36’ – which I think is respectable for 8.6km and my first competitive XC outing. I have no idea where the leaders came in, but I would expect somewhere around 30’-31’. All in all, I was pretty happy with how it all worked out, and I definitely have more room for improvement.

After the race, I scoffed a bit more on the road back to Charlbury and settled down in a nice pub to enjoy lunch. After a good stuffing that consisted of a steak and mushroom pie and a pint of Hooky, we rolled (literally) back down the hill to the station and caught the (rather busy) train back to Reading.

I just had a look at the provisionals: 36'13", 84th out of 253 - just about 1/3 up the field. Chuffed. The leader (from our club) came in just under 30 mins.

A great day, and now looking forward to the next race, 2 December I believe. Can't wait!

Results:

http://www.oxonxc.org/results/2007_1.txt

Joined a running club - tick!

Today I got off my rear and sent in my forms to join a running club. On Saturday I suddenly (in a state of panic) realised that I has a week until the start of the Oxford XC league, and I hadn't even joined a club yet (let alone taken my XC spikes out for a whirl, but that is another story altogether!).

So I took up my boss' offer to drop off the membership form for me and joined Cirencester AC - seemed to be as good a club as any as there weren't any Reading clubs in the league. Sad but true.

Anyhow, I'm quite looking forward to racing on the weekend - I must just do a good job of tapering and not riding like a madman in the latter part of the week.

'Till then!

Gallileo Win! :-)

Friday, and massively tired and relieved. It was a hard, challenging week at work - enjoyed it. It was also a brilliant week for SPEED. On Thursday I ran the October edition of the company race called the Gallieo; about 6km on roads and through a lovely wooded park.

It was chilly and looked "threatening" to drizzle - though it stayed dry. A conference call just before meant I had little time for getting changed and my warmup on the treadmill was cut shorter than I'd have liked, but I'd still got my heart-rate up and was ready for action.

The race started on a gentle uphill which we took at an easy pace which was nice for easing into it. I quickly noticed that me and this other guy had managed to drop the field on the uphill and were now steadily heading along at a nice easy pace along the gentle asphalt pathways of a park. Given that I didn't know the route, I had to just follow the other guy along; a good excuse for just pacing with him.

The course was lovely, passing fields scattered with lazy cows, coursing through a park with joggers, lunchtime walkers and dog walkers, under trees and over bridges. It all went by quickly and soon I was back on a familiar path, so the last 1/2km. I upped the pace a little but still being unsure of the route, continued to follow my partner.

As soon as I was sure of where I was I opened the taps. Even surprised myself with my acceleration. But I wasn't about to indulge in any half measures. I wanted the win.

I crossed the line with about 10s over my opponent, it was a really nice run. Best of all, despite my last run having been in Durban over a week ago, I felt really strong and fast. The XC season starts first week of November, so I really need to get off my arse and sort out my club membership. I can't wait!

It's all about the bike!

What a great weekend. It was all about the bike; taking my time building my race bike and running around doing domestic stuff on my trusty Genesis + trailer.

Took the race bike out for a proper spin earlier. It feels all I'd expected - fast, incredibly stiff and massively responsive. I love it.

Back from SA

Just back from South Africa. Good to catch up with old (and new) friends, brilliant to spend some quality time with the Old Man. Got a few nice runs in, Durban is just perfect for a challenging run - lots of hills and gorgeous views. Also got some nice driving in - Dad was kind enough to let me pilot his MX5 everywhere, reminded me of my other love in SPEED - there is nothing like a sublime steer through tight, twisty roads.

But now after precious little sleep on the flight and a most unproductive afternoon in the office, Bedforshire calls. 'Till next time.

The bike has arrived!

After the months of plotting and then the relatively short but tortuous wait, the big box of bits finally arrived from Ribble! I'd already acquired a few bits from other shops - the Dura-Ace wheels from Evans (the saga continues) and Ultegra chainset from Wiggle (long story involving indecision) - so the anticipation was even greater!

Unfortunately three things have thwarted what should have been a weekend of building and finally riding this bike, the details of which have kept me occupied and perplexed for the past few months: I ordered the wrong handlebar, the saddle I wanted was out of stock, and I'm off to a conference in South Africa today! The trip to SA will be great as it'll be the first time I'll see my Dad since him being in hospital after his heart attack earlier this year. And hopefully Ribble being out of stock of the saddle means I'll get the slightly revised and better looking '08 version. Patience, they tell me, is a virtue, and it gives me another thing to look forward to when I get back.

I am really looking forward to coming back not only building my bike, but also starting to get some training done for the XC season. I've been working on my flexibility and I'm already seeing big improvements, and I hope that XC will help me even more with getting myself nice and lithe. It should also be a nice change of scenery which I am looking forward to. I'm also hoping it will get me into the right sort of competition frame of mind ready to hit the bike racing season running, erm ...

So, my running shoes are packed, so I'll be able to get some training in despite being off my commute bike for what will be a week and a half. I'm also planning to scrounge around the garage, so you never know, I may just come back with a frame which will form the basis of a fixie? To work on my pedal action, you know ;-).

It's my B I R T H D A Y ! ! !

Friday! And my birthday, which makes it a triply brilliant Friday.

I had a really good day today. I emerged, wrapped up in wonderfully insulating synthetics, into a cold and wet morning. Traffic was unusually busy as I pulled out onto the road – this always gives me a buzz. I love riding in traffic.

The ride to the station was nice and smooth with few stops and interruptions. Through the road was wet, it wasn’t raining and with the mudguards back on the bike my feet thankfully stayed dry too as I'd forgotten to put on my booties. I had to renew my season ticket, which was awful because the queue was longer than usual for that time of the morning – but the train was late so it worked out just perfectly.

On the train I met a colleague who works at Didcot Power Station and I’d been taking the train with for the past 6 months but had no idea that we worked for the same company in much the same area!

By the time the train arrived in Swindon the few minutes had been made up and I was on time. It was raining quite steadily now, so on with my booties. I love my booties, they are so warm and cosy! I find riding in the rain quite therapeutic - I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with watching the ridge of water on the tyre... Anyhow, I was also in an iPod mood, so it was Mark Knopfler’s NASCAR tribute (Speedway of Nazareth) that fittingly guided me on the last few km into work.

We were having a Coffee morning in aid of McMillan Cancer Research – it was a good laugh. And there is nothing like drinking coffee for a good cause! After that my morning exploded into a level of unprecedented mayhem that calmed down around 15:45.

And so now I’m writing this after a wonderful dinner prepared by my darling wife, Tasha; trout and sweet potato mash followed by my favourite - lemon meringue.

Anyhow, enough of my birthday – and back to the subject of this blog! Last week I went over to Cyclefit for a session to have my measurements worked out. I decided to cycle to Covent Garden rather than take the tube, and I’m so glad I did. It was truly mad! I love riding in London – it is like an extreme sport in itself! Anyhow, I managed to arrive at Cyclefit in one piece (if a little sweatier than I’d intended – sorry!).

It was a very useful session – apart from giving me all the numbers I needed to spec the bike I will imminently be building for myself – the technician solved some of my niggles and identified some of the issues I have that are limiting my performance (in short, I need to stretch!).

Afterward I cycled around like a madman. Met up with a friend near Victoria Station and then rode over to meet Tasha to have a quick bite by South Ken followed by an exhilarating ride back to Paddington through Hyde Park.

With all the dimensions I finally plucked up the nerve to order all the bits of my race bike. It was oddly stressful finally putting a stake in the ground regarding the spec, now I can’t wait to build it! I’ll post all the details and pics on here when I do it, suffice to say that I decided on Dedacciai’s EM2 over carbon, and the oily bits will be Ultegra. I have some of the bits already, the rest should be here next week.

Anyhow, the two Peronis have caught up with me, and I’m feeling pretty sleepy (sad, huh?) – ‘till next time!

Getting ready for next year

In this blog I plan to capture my thoughts, the ups and downs, the bumps and the triumphs in racing.

For 2008 I intend to compete in bicycle road racing; in particular Criterium racing. I'll be starting as a lowly Cat 4, so I need to pick up points to get into the high, more competitive categories. I plan take part in the Castle Combe series and the Hillingdon races.

My target for 2008 is to get myself up to Cat 2 - but given that I'll be starting at the bottom (Cat 4), and that I am pretty rusty, I'm looking forward to the journey.

I decided to do a few events this year to judge my form and formulate my ambitions. It has gone pretty well. After discovering my race bike's frame was broken the afternoon before the Woodcote Sportive event, and the past-midnight conversion of my commute bike into something resembling a race bike, I reached my goal of setting the fastest time for the event.

After that I had a good, if crazy race at Castle Combe - but I must admit to being a bit intimidated by the finishing sprint. It was a crazy rush with the E/1/2/3/4 categories all together - I must admit that I was intimidated and I bottled out. Lesson learnt. I've done it before, just need to get used to the idea again.

My second circuit racing outing was a disaster. Raced at Hillingdon and was running very well until our break somehow got mixed up in the E/1/2 race and in the confusion I thought I was disqualified. By the time I'd worked out what was going on, the bunch had passed and it was hopeless. Another lesson learnt but also a missed opportunity. But that was the point of racing at the tail end of this year, so mission accomplished.

So preparing for next year - tomorrow I'll be heading off to Cyclefit in Covent Garden for a professional fit session. Once this is done I can get on with ordering the bits for building my race bike.

For the winter, I've decided to take part in running cross country racing. I did a 5km race last week that I won at a good pace (a personal best for the distance) - which has given me a boost. The only problem is that I ran myself very hard and didn't take care of myself afterward, so now I have a nasty cold. Another lesson learnt!

Bye for now, I'll need to work out how to make this site look like I want it to!

Yours in speed!

D