SPEED - David Fong

Underestimating XC

2010-11-20T14:57:00.006Z

Let me start with an admission. I had grossly underestimated (MTB) Cross Country. I guess as a roadie and crosser at heart, I'd arrogantly assumed a bit of "been-there-..." attitude so figured that, apart from a bit of bike handling adaptation, this MTB thing would be pretty easy.

So I arrived at Crowthorne for a round of the Gorrick MTB Autumn Series feeling fairly optimistic, if a little apprehensive about the weather. It was peeing down, and had been for much of the week before, so I knew it was going to be slippy, but it was also exceptionally cold. But how much harder could it be than a cross race? The race start was delayed by about ten minutes which meant standing around in the cold drizzle, not good. Eventually our the small group of 15, the "Sport Male" (4-lap Seniors) category, were sent off.

I was careful not to ride too hard from the off, but on the first open section of the lap through fire roads I found I'd got into a nice rhythm and was starting to easily pass other competitors, good I thought.

But then came the first sharp corner that took me a bit by surprise, cue full use of the 180mm disc on the front, a really bad line and not flicking to a smaller ring before losing a lot of momentum. Then the single track.

On the first lap, I was exceptionally clumsy through the single track section. I nipped the handlebars on trees, clipped roots all wrong and generally made a hash of it. Worse, I used loads of energy doing it and come the start of the second lap I was feeling it. This was odd for me - usually the technical sections in cyclo-cross are where I pull an advantage. Now I had to try to pull myself back into contention on the fire road sections. According to the PA announcement I was running 7th, so I started thinking that 5th would be my target - and so I slid back on the saddle and spun up some pain on the big ring.

The second run through the single track was much better, and I started to feel far more at home. This was also hugely helped by the 1.5 section Conti Cross Country mud race tyres I'd been given by Andy L. The cornering grip levels were otherworldly in the mud and, even up the mushiest climbs, the rear wheel traction was solid. So into lap 3 I'd picked up a position and was about to grab another two, but then into the single track the cramps hit and I was hurting. I lost my hard earned 5th.

And then, on the final lap, it hit me. The bonk. I hadn't eaten enough before (technically with a, 14:15 start, I'd skipped lunch) and I had no gels with me. Daft. There it was, the dreaded wall. I hit it full on. Suddenly I just had nothing in me, I could barely muster keeping moving. And the cramps kept hitting my calves. "How could it all be going so wrong?" was all I could think.

6th slipped away, then 7th. Then I stopped caring because simply getting to the finish would have been a result. In the end I managed 10th, which I'm still not sure how I managed given the state I was in at the end. It does annoy me, but mostly because my form wasn't bad and with proper preparation a better result was in the offing.

So I look forward to taking another shot at XC racing, though I might wait for better weather and rather spend the rest of the winter concentrating on cyclo-cross. I think (just) an hour of pain, and not changing brake pads after every event, sounds like a far better proposition.

Afan Raid

2010-10-25T21:15:00.004+01:00

My road racing friends Andrew and Stu invited me to join on a mountain biking weekend in the valley. I couldn't wait and was counting the days - but little did I know that it would so massively exceed my expectations.

Firstly off, I could not have asked for a better group of guys - and, apart from battling a little with names, I felt at home from the start. Then the trails, just totally sick. I don't know if I've ever used that term before but it just makes sense here.

Despite leaving Bath to glorious sunny skies, Saturday morning in South Wales was bleak; heavy showers threatening to make a misery of any riding. So we procrastinated. And it paid off - the rain abated and so at least we didn't get rained on. But the trail was extremely wet - brilliant conditions for me to become reacquainted with this whole mountain biking lark!

So we set off up White's Level, a great up and down course. The climb gains 525m through nice single track - a few little technical sections but mostly just straightforward, flowing trail with a few hairpins - the MTB feels like a tanker compared to the crosser! Then from the top the trail cascades back down the hill to the trail centre; the Energy section being particularly brilliant with the table tops and some rocky banked turns.

I need to grow bigger balls - I found it difficult to resist confidence braking into corners, only to realise I could have carried a load more speed! I'm sure it will come with time, but I still feel a little out of sorts come the descents.

So I wasn't too surprised when I managed to clip a rock the next morning and then put my wheel off the edge of the trail. I emerged bruised, still not entirely sure how I did that, but learning that perhaps over-thinking is my enemy. Later I got happier to just let it flow; not that I quite got the knack, but thanks Steve for constantly nagging me to leave the brakes!

Speaking of brakes - goodness - the Welsh mud is vicious! One set of pads (front and rear) after two circuits of White's on Saturday! Madness.

And apart from the crash (and the annoyingly stiffening knee that resulted), Sunday we hit W2 - a combination of White's and a trail ominously named The Wall. It was a good day on the bike, but hard. Not that I could complain: Simon, who had done zero exercise in the last 6 months, let alone having ever ridden an MTB, gamely took it on and finished it. The dude was simply mega.

So overall, a totally awesome weekend. What I've described of the riding is just the tip of the iceberg. More so, I've hardly talked about the group - suffice to say that they are just stellar bunch. I couldn't have asked for a better crew to ride & hang out with, talk bike-geek stuff, stretching techniques and ponder 21-year-olds.

Ace! Thanks guys!

The Hotel Gym

2010-10-06T21:21:00.001+01:00

I hate gyms. Passionately.

Being outside and getting exercise is fun, liberating, exciting. Gyms are just boring. The only diversions are good looking women who tend to look back at you like a sad loser if you're caught appreciating.

So I don't usually do gyms, but my sub-standard performance in recent races, and stupid schedule have driven me to using the most dreaded of all gyms; the sad, deserted confines of the hotel gym.

But all in all it was actually quite a good experience. A good half hour each of running and cycling, looking at flashing lines on the screen, managed to feel particularly good today. I was training! A rare occurrence, I know.

So, hopefully I'll be able to keep up this good habit. Bring on the weekend!

Purdown - Western League #3

2010-10-03T18:26:00.003+01:00

I'd been dreading the possibility of "heavy rain" as forecast on all weather sites. I don't mind getting muddy, and I don't mind getting a little wet, but drenched sucks. So I was massively relieved that it was warm (if overcast and windy) and not raining when I signed up.

Probably because of the forecast, it was a fairly small field. The venue at Purdown is like a park, but with a big garage in it that looks like it might have once been a fire station or something. And the hill disappears up on the west side. Ominous!

So, a lap of the course: It starts on a grassy field just before the big garage, heading past the long west wall, then turning right to briefly skirt the north wall before plunging down the slope, around a slippery, open hairpin, and then back up the hill. Near a little cluster of trees was a nasty little transverse groove in the hill that was just enough to mess up your momentum before kicking up a little on the run up to the really nasty bit between the bushes. This bit was pretty much unrideable, slick mud and really steep.

After "The Hill" as I called it, the slope gradually levelled off and became grassy again, providing some traction - time to remount. Then a short stretch to a hairpin and a gentle downhill run (into the evil southerly); then doubling back at a hairpin to climb the gentle slope again. The course then turned left again to skirt the field; an interesting little left-right-left - a short blast across another little grassy field, a nice fast, slippery left hander, then a deceptively hard and bumpy climb up out of the little field, then a steep left hander into an all-too-brief stretch of single track before a tight right, then left-left back to the start.

Altogether it was a very hard circuit for me; certainly not suited to me - there weren't many properly technical sections where I could get some advantage back and I am simply in bad shape. And "The Hill" simply murdered me every time; I'd battle to walk up it, let alone jog. It was awful. Second lap up it I was nailed by everyone. I couldn't believe my form was so bad, but hey.

Of course, that was briefly followed by trying to think of good excuses to abandon, but I kept on. Slowly the mud started getting more and more churned, and I found that I was starting to find more of an advantage in the tricky sections - as sparse as they were! Plus I found that I was catching riders ahead even on the hard pulls into the wind. So I slowly started picking riders off and making up places. And I started having a ball; drifting the bike completely sideways into the increasingly slick corners as riders ahead were tip-toeing with one foot out for security - it felt great. Sure, the mud-specific tyres and disc brakes helped, but it still felt great.

I was slowly pulling in a Dynamo - the London Dynamos were Dulwich Paragon's arch rivals (Dulwich being my London club) - and I was becoming increasingly determined to pass him. Bell lap came and I had 50m to make up. Up "The Hill" I was lapped, a good opportunity to grab a wheel into the wind. I took it, made up the deficit and then made my move and caned it for the last 500-odd metres - putting a huge slide into the steep left hander into the single track but taking a lot more conservatively to the line once I'd worked that I'd put in a good gap.

Afterwards I felt pretty good. The legs were good but my lungs were a bit shot, being a fairly fast circuit it was big-time cardio.

Yeah, I need a lot more training to get anywhere near the form where I feel I should be - but the racing certainly is doing me good - if nothing other than helping me learn the limits of my body and honing my bike handling.

Next week is Stroud. Lets hope for a nice, seriously muddy race!

Cowbell - where is the cowbell!?!

38th Bleugh

2010-09-27T20:42:00.003+01:00

Lydiard Park, Swindon - 26th Sept.

I was horribly out of shape, but decided to give it a shot anyways. At worst it would be a really hard training ride, at best I'd feel some glory.

Within the first 100m it became painfully clear that it would be the former rather than the latter. In true cyclocross style, by lap two I was well into the red trying to think of excuses for giving up. Four laps in I started to wonder what the hell I was doing in Swindon on a cold and windy Sunday afternoon when I could otherwise have been in bed reading Arthur Miller's short stories.

Then the riders who had passed me earlier in the race (I started near the back of the pack, so by this stage was was just about last) started coming back. The bumpy stretch up the hill started feeling easier. The lines through the forest started feeling more natural and I found I was eating tens of metres into my opponents through the forest alone. I started getting into a good tuck into the wind, but keeping an easy spin, and so started picking off the riders ahead one at a time.

There were some moments to savour; passing a stubbornly fast dude through the forest, then power-sliding out of the only muddy corner (yes, on a bicycle), taking a dude through the running section over the gates and out sprinting a challenge at the finish line.

But then again, it was pretty dismal. 38th of 46 is pretty rubbish and I will certainly need to up my game dramatically. I don't enjoy being so far off the pace, let alone being lapped. Yep, some concerted training will be required.

Watch this space!

Just want to get cross

2010-07-17T16:40:00.002+01:00

Middle of summer. It has been a mess with my marriage and so my life falling to pieces all around me. It sucks but things like this either kill you or make you stronger. I'm still here so I guess I'll be stronger.

I haven't raced at all, but my form isn't too awful. I will be doing the opposite of all roadies and trying to get my base in over the summer in order to hit late September fresh and fast. We're contemplating a production cross frame - so I might have something special to race in later in the season.

Annoyingly I missed the entry for the 3-Peaks - but I have ambitions of doing well this season in cross. I just need to keep my health in check and keep my chest clear. If i can do that, I'll be able to keep my form and kick ass. Perhaps it doesn't bode well that I have a chest infection as I type this, but it is exceptionally mild and I'm kicking it.

Roll on Autumn.

Farewell London League

2010-02-01T21:05:00.006Z

Image courtesy londoncyclesport.com

For the 2009/2010 London Cyclocross season anyhow.

What a classic course for the send off. It was a muddy, technical treat at Herne Hill. The course included the ramps, hurdy gurdys, hurdles and mud. Lots of it.

The race itself was very sore. The slippery surface was difficult for everyone; it certainly helped me to the deck a few times. Plus it was hard racing. I was determined to beat my regular competition, and maybe get a bit higher in the order.

A lap into the race my lungs felt ready to burst, after two laps my back started to ache; and then it just got harder. With two laps to go my entire body was hurting - by the end the pain was irrelevant, all I cared about was not being passed.

Which I am proud to say I managed. I got ahead of my rivals and used my pace through the tricky outfield to put air between us. Then I knuckled down hard through the infield to maintain the gap. This was pretty much the pattern of the entire race - the only developments being increased fatigue and the bike getting heavier and heavier from gathering more mud.

I was nervous to see the results, so I was quite chuffed they were published very promptly. In the end I came 24th. Of 82 finishers.

Yeah, happy with that. Very happy.

So that wraps the 2009/10 'cross season, nearly. In two weeks we have the Team Champs, which should be a lot of fun and a nice way to end the season. Then it will be looking forward to criteriums in the road season for the summer.

Yeah, I'm really looking forward to those long evenings of Speed! Bring on Summer!

A lot of speed

2010-01-27T21:08:00.003Z

The last few days have been pretty busy. Sunday was London League cyclocross at Wilmington in Kent, and then Tuesday I ran in our company running club month-end race.

The cross race was mad as usual. It wasn't too wet, but the mud was very slick and traction was very poor; with even moderate inclines being unrideable. There was also a very tricky section through the woods that was very narrow and felt more like what I'd expect of an MTB course rather than Cross.

The race itself was hard. On the first lap I was trying to think of how I could bail out but still retain my dignity. Realising that was impossible, I then started wondering how I was going to survive the next hour. And it seemed to take forever. The dismounting, running and remounting took their toll, as did the very frustrating slippy near running-on-the-spot sections up the hills. I had a few silly falls too, the "best" being riding straight into a tree on the last lap at near walking pace (I blame fatigue).

As usual, afterward it felt great. I had a fun ding-dong with a club mate, Kevin Ball and also managed to keep a few riders that I recognised from previous races at bay. I'm really enjoying this cyclocross lark - it is just such a pity that the season is so short.

Then to running; my new commute means that it simply is not fiscally possible for me to take the train (and so include a ride in my commute), so I've returned to running to try to keep fast and in shape. My first run was last week, and frankly I battled and was broken afterward. I really wasn't expecting much for the lunch time race.

The organiser, Zoe, stuck me into the fastest group despite my protestations. I really thought she was having a laugh and roundly expected to be the slowest of the group and jog into the finish dead last (it is run on a handicap, so the slowest runners would be well down the road before the fast group starts).

So after lots of waiting we set off. I start gingerly (for the first 20m or so), then realise I feel pretty good, so ratchet up the pace. Probably a bit too quickly because up the long hill to the park I'm starting to feel it. Into the park I'm staying with the leading group (bar one) of fast runners, but hurting already - only about 1.5km in! Then I notice my shoe lace is loose. PREPARATION! I have to stop to tie it up and so immediately loose touch with the group.

I try to close the gap after that but they pull away steadily. I keep up a good pace but am really hurting. I wind up the pace on the way in, purely out of pride and not wanting to be overtaken; I manage to be passed only by the fastest runner (Ian Mc' for those who've followed this blog for a while) who gave himself a further, self imposed handicap of a few minutes! My time is a smidge over 25 mins. Not too bad, but I do have quite a bit of work to do.

I was broken totally by the run, and had to drag myself to the local Tesco to grab a For Goodness Shakes (my new favourite). It helped a bit but honestly I was too stuffed to be useful to anyone.

A day later I am still sore. My legs from the run, but my shoulders and core still have traces of tightness from the Cross race. All good stuff. And to be repeated this weekend with another Cross race at Herne Hill.

Rock on!

Chapeau Madam!

2010-01-13T19:10:00.004Z

So, I'm blasting back home from work along Victoria Embankment. Whizzing past the usual train of commuters (not everyone thinks it's a race I guess...) I notice a flashing red light ahead that is making short work of the bike traffic (not to mention the car traffic, but that goes without saying). I'm hardly making up any ground, so I dig a bit deeper and start giving chase.

A few hundred metres passes, and I'm not making as much of a dent in the gap as I would for a typical "quick commuter" - clearly this guys is giving it some beans, so if I'm to catch up before Parliament Square, I'd better light them burners.

And so I do, we're now on the stretch to Big Ben and I'm getting close. We both dispatch a guy on a carbon superbike, but I have bigger fish to fry. Or should I say smaller. This rider is diminutive! And it is a her. Her legs are pumping relentlessly and her speed isn't letting up.

I keep the taps open and pass - eventually. As I pass, she looks back. Now, I know people in good shape who take good care of themselves can easily look 10 years younger than they really are - this lady looks to be in her mid-fifties, your guess is as good as mine. I was amazed.

I hope that I'm still riding that quickly on the commute when I'm in my fifties!

Herne Hill Results

2010-01-03T20:05:00.004Z

Image courtesy Londoncyclesport.com

Crazy crazy crazy! I am beaming ear to ear. 27th. Of 93 finishers. Rock on!

Sloppy Herne Hill

2010-01-03T19:03:00.003Z

On my first (recce) lap of the circuit I realised that the 'cross races so far were just a taster of the real thing.

I was a little nervous this morning; it has been a long time since I'd raced; I'd been kept off the bike first by a bruised hand from a fall on icy, moss-covered paving in early-Jan and then from a battle with a nasty cold that ended up taking out pretty much most of the family that was staying over. The good news is that I didn't get the customary chest infection, so my asthma meds are doing the trick!

Back to today - it was very cold (around 2°C), but sunny. Rain and snow from previous days had made the ground well soaked and bit of the course I could see looked pretty squishy indeed. There had also been a New Years Day madison event on two days before, so the circuit was quite cut up. I'd arrived with good time, so I was able to sign on and get my kit sorted without a rush before heading out for an easy recce; this is very important for me.

The mud was very slippery indeed, and some off camber sections needed good line picking, but also solid pedaling to get through. Some of the faster corners were a little daunting, but later proved a treat (provided the bike was set-up nicely into the corner). A bit of ice, and frozen, furrowed mud was quite scary and, after very nearly stacking it on the recce, I decided it was best avoided. What struck me most about the course was the crazy climbs and near drop-offs and the number of obstacles that demanded a dismount. The bits through the trees also offered up many technical challenges that initially made me feel completely inept.

So I felt pretty daunted as I took up my place on the start line. Soon enough the whistle went and it was the usual charge to the first corner. I wasn't feeling that strong, so I didn't go all out, but I found myself around some familiar faces to I guess it must have been a reasonable start. The first foray into the tricky wooded section was crazy; I found myself getting into all sorts of trouble by making the same mistake that I had previously made in the cockpit of my Class C Fiat - following the guy in front, and in so doing effectively having him ride my bike. I forced myself to focus on the trail, looking past the rider ahead and picking my own line.

Into the second lap it was feeling a lot easier and into the third riding in the mud felt like second nature. I found that, in the group I was in (roughly 6-7 riders), I was being held up quite a bit through the technical wooded section, but onto the flatter open stadium section I was losing ground - my lack of fitness from the time off the bike telling. But the problem was, sitting at the back of the group I was being held up where I had the advantage, then burning up through the infield to stay in touch. Time to make a move then. With a few bold moves, including an outbrake into a steep downhill, I got ahead. I had to work hard though, so into the infield I felt like puking and was repassed.

Next lap our group was split by a fall and I attacked to try to get a bigger advantage. It almost worked, and I left the infield section only having conceded a place or two to the group. On the next lap, I made my move. I charged hard up the the steep climb, with the bike on my shoulder I sprinted as hard as I could up the muddy slope and did my best impression of a running remount (which, I must admit, needs a lot of work). Apart from a few metres gap, crucially I'd got "track position" on the group with a fair proportion of the twisty wooded section to go. I rode it as hard as I could, even came off once (but managed to save it with a quick remount). Then, into the infield I tucked down and rode as hard as I could. It paid off. Coming out of the stadium exit corner, I saw the group still a distance from the corner. Spot on.

The rest of the race was a fight against fatigue and the lack of a rear brake. Not sure what happened (my guess at the moment is a cable that I hadn't tightened properly), but my rear brake stopped working in the second lap which left me with only the front - quite a liability, especially with all the sharp corners at the bottom of descents. As I became more tired, mistakes crept in and I would lose my advantage through the woods.

So the 2 laps go couldn't come soon enough. The pace started to escalate, and I knew the riders behind would be chasing. Summoning up all the energy I could, I tried to ride as neatly as I could, only to tumble over the bars on a descent. I needed to stay calm and keep it smooth, but it was difficult. I was also starting to encounter a few back-markers which made things even trickier. I couldn't afford to lose time through the twisty sections but this was exactly where passing was difficult. Fortunately the etiquette of most riders was exemplary and it was generally easy to find a way through as long as you weren't too impatient.

Heading through the stadium section for the last time I took a peek back and saw mostly empty track. One of the riders from the pack, a Mosquito rider, had caught and repassed me on the last lap but I'd managed to hold off the remainder. Still, no time for taking it easy. Big ring all the way to the finish (well, almost).

Not sure where I finished, but I had an absolute ball. The bike was caked in mud and felt a good 2kg heavier after the race, crazy.

So, I think now I get 'cross. Fact: It is the most fun you can have on a bike.

Putting down some markers for 2010

2009-12-27T20:36:00.002Z

Ok, 2010 looms. Goal setting time:
- 2nd Cat
- A race win

How hard can it be?

That's why I race

2009-10-30T18:04:00.003Z

photo by Lesley

The results for this past weekends race are up.

84 guys were slower than me, but 33 weren't. It is the 33 that egg me on to go faster still.

Crossing into Autumn

2009-10-27T18:52:00.005Z

Photo courtesy londoncyclesport.com

Sunday was a beautiful autumnal day. Too warm and sunny to be autumn proper, but with that light crispness in the air that hints at the seasons changing. Having a terrible sense for judging temperature, I'd packed all my cold weather gear but as I was getting ready to roll out onto the course, I realised that normal summer fare would do.

After a bit of confusion while on a recce of the circuit, and even more at the start, I felt myself "blipping the throttle" at the line waiting for the Go! As soon as we were off I gave it horns to get to the front of the field; from my limited cross experience I know that working your way through the field can be difficult and burns a lot of energy. There was a lot of room running to the first real corner so I was able to make up a lot of ground blasting down the left and keeping a lot of momentum onto the little grassy climb.

From there it was a blur. I got stuck in with a charging group that felt a little too fast for me and I started to worry that if I put the effort in I may burn out later; even with the benefit of hindsight I have no idea if this was a good idea or not. I did pass one of the group a bit later, and he was completely spent, so perhaps I did make the right call.

After being dropped from the fast group I found myself in an oddly quiet no-mans land. No-one behind me to stay away from, and the group ahead having pulled enough of a gap not to always be in sight. Later in the race I started reeling in the riders ahead of me but, given how the field was strung out, it was difficult to work out which were for position and which were simply backmarkers.

But it didn't matter, I kept at chasing the rider ahead, chipping away and getting past. It was hurting and all I could think of was breathing, putting the front wheel in the right place and choosing the right gear. No counting laps, watching the group or thinking of strategy.

At one point I came across the same Kuota rider I'd battled with at the Gunpowder Park race, and I was reeling him in steadily. I passed him, and I guess there must have been recognition, because he responded by turning up the wick and making his way past again. I was hurting but there was no way I was rolling over - it was a simple decision; I dug deep and wound up the pace. I was determined to break him. I was determined to make sure he knew I would beat him. A solid gap opened up and soon I was watching him heading into the hairpins I was charging out of. It was the last I saw of him.

Reflecting on this has made me realise something about cyclocross. It is a very simple sport. You have to mark your goal decide you can achieve it. Mishaps and equipment failure aside, the guy in front is stronger and the guy behind is weaker. There is no further complication. For sure the strength is not only physical, but certainly a combination of physical and mental strength, but it is about strength. It is also very lonely. It is pure.

I don't think I let up from there - I pulled away from that group and, with the 3 lap board out, settled into chipping away at the gap to a Mosquito rider ahead. The gap was simply too great for me, and I couldn't make up the ground, but I still felt great. I hadn't been lapped and I felt I'd done myself proud.

The full results have not yet been posted, but I'm expecting I did get a pretty decent result. This coming weekend is the Halloween Cross at Herne Hill, and I'm nursing myself back to full strength to make sure I can race it hard. It will be interesting!

Rocketing at Gunpowder Park

2009-10-04T20:40:00.005+01:00

Image by John Mullineaux
londoncyclesport.com

We left in good time to get up to Gunpower Park in Waltham Abbey for Round 3 of the London Cross League. It started going pear shaped when I lost my way on the route I'd chosen. No problem, I had a backup route... Which was all well and good until our progress was halted by a police road closure. Cue 45 mins of confusion and traffic hell through parts of North London that I won't mind not having to pass through again.

Of course, all this meant arriving at the race very late. I signed on at 12:59 by my watch, and was rolling onto the grassy field, about 150m away from the start just as the tail end of the field was easing out of the start area.

I tried to stay as calm as I could, but it was difficult. If I wanted to be vaguely competitive I'd have put in a lot of effort to get myself back into contention. Writing this now, I can see parallels between this and Warwick a month or so back, but at the time all I could think was getting through the field as quickly as possible.

As you'd imagine, I made up a bunch of places very quickly, but then my progress slowed and I found each pass was a lot more effort. One rider made me chuckle, in a good way; I was passing a girl on the run up to the technical bit at the far side of the course. Heading to the corner, she wasn't going to give me an inch. With each pedal stroke she accelerated, forcing me to push harder to get by. We were all but sprinting as the corner loomed. I'd pulled barely ahead of her going into the corner, but she made me work hard for it!

From there on, I had a few spats, including an ongoing battle with a dude on a Kuota Kross. We passed and re-passed each other a few times, and during the last few laps, he pulled a small lead. At the 3 lap board I turned up the wick and started reeling him in. We charged through the last lap, but on the run to the line I took him, and another two riders ahead.

All in all a really great experience. The bike was 100%, and all the small adjustments I made after the last outing paid dividends. Despite the circuit being insanely bumpy in places, I could trust leaving the chain on the little ring when I needed to. My arms took a big beating, but the sheer intensity of it is something very new - there really is nowhere to hide. It is much like XC running, but on a bike.

I'm hooked.

ps. Thanks to London Phoenix for hosting this event.

Eating dust at Deers Leap

2009-09-29T19:21:00.005+01:00

Cross is a very strange, but oddly natural undertaking. It reminds me so much of my childhood - trying to ride bikes over crazy terrain, sometimes at unfeasible speeds.

The conditions were perfect; it was a lovely, warm, sunny day. We arrived nice and early which gave me a great opportunity to calmly get the bike together and suss things out.

Just as I was about to head out for a familiarisation lap, I met a fellow Dulwich rider, Kevin, who gave me tips. We rode around together for a lap, realised we still had a little time, so went out for a second. I was getting the hang of it, and starting to feel very confident when very suddenly I felt that all to familiar sensation through the bars. The front tyre was flat.

It wasn't hard to find the cause, a great big fat thorn was stuck through sidewall. Fiddlesticks!

There was less than 5 minutes to go before the start of the race and I was headed up to the car to pack and feel sorry for myself when I spotted Alex, or Mark as I thought his name was. Alex, another Dulwich Paragon, had arrived late and was feverishly trying to get his number on. We had a case of broken telephone, first with me trying to call him Mark, and then trying to explain my predicament coherently. He offered me a spare wheel to use (for which I was extremely grateful) - all I had to do was run up to the car park, locate his car, grab the wheel, then run back down and get it on my bike.

After a mad sprint (on foot, from which I am still a little stiff), I got back to the start with Alex's wheel and just enough time to fit the wheel and get my breath back before the actual start.

It was like rush hour, loads of riders trying to squeeze through the narrow trail. Early on, probably from too much adrenaline, I crashed into another rider; no harm done, but I did feel like a twerp! A few spurts saw me clear the mess and for the last half of the lap I was in a nice zone of clear track and gaining on those ahead.

Into the last tricky bit I was just lining up to take a smooth line when suddenly the seat gave way. On getting off, I discovered that the seat post had snapped clean off. Fruitcake!

There was no point in even throwing a tantrum, but it was absolutely gutting. Another race where I didn't even complete the first lap! A silly technical failure - one that, with 20:20 hindsight, could have been avoided - but silly nonetheless

Fortunately the London Cyclocross League continues with Round 3 this weekend, so I have a chance to make amends. The weather outlook looks good.

Rock on.

Tough lessons at Warwick

2009-09-06T19:30:00.004+01:00

Today I traveled up to Warwick for the annual criterium held in the town centre. This has a hardcore crit feel with all sorts of street furniture to make the circuit difficult and interesting.

I'd got to the car park with loads of time to spare and so took my time getting ready. When time to race came around, I went up to the start area (with 7 mins to spare), and then ended up waiting around for the best part of twenty minutes. The kids race ended, so a number of us rolled onto the circuit only to be pulled off again for the unicycle race to run. This is where it went a bit wonky. I'd consulted with a marshall and worked out that the program was running around 30 mins late, so I figured I'd head back to the car to get my leg warmers as the the sun had since disappeared and the wind was picking up and getting a bit chilly.

When I got back about 15 mins later (leaving 15mins for hanging about as I do) I saw, to my horror, the 3/4 field lined up at the start. To make matters worse the countdown to start had begun.

For whatever reason, call it confidence, I saw the best option being getting onto the circuit and chasing to catch the back of the group. Except the joining point where I was was probably no more than 75m from the start.

So I rode as hard as I could for 8 laps, consistently hitting 1:20 per lap, an average of around 36/37km/h. I was feeling very confident and found I was able to nail the corners really hard. I was having a ball. My name was being called over the PA system, the crowd was cheering.

6 laps in I caught up with the backmarkers and decided to latch onto their wheels for a rest (in retrospect a bad move, because I didn't really need to). I rested for a lap and a bit, but that was too long, the leaders caught up and came past. Being in an awkward position not being able to unlap myself nor want to interfere with their race, I dropped out.

In retrospect, I made a few howling errors. Firstly it probably would have been prudent to rather have just let the field pass at the start, hop onto the back, and then rely on the commissaire's mercy for letting me get away with this minor infringement (which, chatting to him later, I found would have been OK). Secondly I shouldn't have broken my rhythm by taking a break behind the painfully slow backmarkers. Thirdly, when I got caught by the group, I should have rather just stopped to ask the commissarie if I could take a lap. Unfortunately none of these things occurred to me at the time.

All that said, I had a ball. I'd made a big splash. It was even great to hear my withdrawal from the race being announced on such positive terms, at very least my ride had been a crowd-pleaser! My chosen plan, though suicidal, was aggressive and would have been awesome if I managed to pull it off. I also surprised myself with just how hard I could ride, and the experience will certainly add another weapon to my arsenal come next season.

So, possibly one last road race left this season (in Surrey) - but a lot more cyclocross. Speed awaits.

Addiction takes the smallest taste

2009-09-02T21:37:00.004+01:00

This morning I was a bundle of nerves waiting for my cyclocross tyres to arrive in the post. At around 12:00 I visited the mailroom (for the 3rd time) and there they were in their blue wrapped box. I scoffed my lunch down then rushed back to my office to fit them to the rims.

The race at Herne Hill was set to start at 18:50 - 25 minutes earlier than the Palace races, so getting there was going to be tight. This wasn't helped by missing the relatively nondescript entrance twice and having a torturous drive around the block in rush hour.

I managed to get to the start line with moments to spare, but I desperately needed a pee. My plan was to wait until we were in the woods, hop off for a quick leak, and then chase my way back in. While formulating this plan, the whistle went off. I hadn't seen the course before, so I had no idea what to expect, but the race instinct kicked in and pretty soon all I cared about was making my way up through the field.

I was picking off the riders ahead quite quickly, using whatever overtaking opportunities were available, and attacking the tricky bits of the circuit with verve, when suddenly, towards the end of the first lap, the back end of the bike started to feel wonky, and very harsh over the bumps. A quick look down confirmed my suspicion - a flat.

Not much to do but pull out. Sad really, because I was running pretty well and having an absolute ball. This cross thing is like a drug, I'm hooked!

In the end, I think it was just bad luck - a sharp object slashed through the middle of the tyre. Oh well, next stop, the British Cycling calendar to plan my Cross season!

On-it at Palace

2009-08-19T09:23:00.004+01:00

I am quite thankful to have taken today off, because I feel totally wrecked; last night at Palace was very hard indeed.

It has been a while since I have raced at Palace. Despite the successes I've had since my last outing at the circuit, I was still a bit anxious before the race; Crystal Palace is a special circuit that demands respect. Add that to a restless sleep the night before and too much coffee to try to compensate, I wasn't feeling my best.

My goal for the race was simple enough: stay in the pack until the finish, the "stretch target" being to contest the sprint. I wanted to race aggressively and test myself. Having ridden 98km solo in a sportive on Sunday in 3:18 and having recovered well, I was feeling confident to try shaping the race a bit rather than just hanging on.

The race was quick right from the start with a lot of jostling for track space. It was probably the second lap when a Dynamo rider made an attack on the hill - seeing he was getting clear, I decided to join him. It was clear he was a strong rider and working together we stayed away for three laps. That said, we both soon realised we were killing ourselves with little chance of staying away, so we rolled back into the group.

I stayed pretty much at the front of the group from then on. When the E/1/2 groups came by, the front of our group splintered with a few attacks, but none came to much and despite a few breakaways (some that I got into), the group remained together for the final sprint.

I was sitting pretty at the front for the women's bell lap, two before ours, but at the start of our penultimate lap the pace increased and I found myself uncomfortably in the middle running into the sprint. Boxed-in I had nowhere to go; the riders ahead started sitting down well before the line. In all honesty through, my legs were pretty cooked by this stage so not sure how much difference this would have made.

All in all a great evening. I am thoroughly knackered through, but it was well worth it to tick the "goal achieved" box. The last race of the year is next week, I just hope the weather is as glorious as it was last night.

"Beautiful Panorama"

2009-08-06T22:37:00.002+01:00

I don't like racing in the rain. Something about my physiology doesn't agree with the chilling effect of a soaking shower. Perhaps it is my African blood? All I know is I don't dig it. Which is why I decided that, with the possibility of a shower, arm and legwarmers would be a good idea.

At the start of the race, it was just spitting down and, if anything it stopped after the first lap or two. Initially I felt wooden, probably a result of being stuck in the car all week, but after a few minutes I was loosening up nicely. There were two Primes, the first very early on. I placed myself nicely and going up the hill it was a three horse race between (club-mate) Nick and a dude on a Cannondale. Towards the line Nick fell back and Cannon and I fought it out to the line. Near the crest he kicked; I was able to match it but not get ahead. There wasn't much in it, but for a Prime there is no prize for 2nd.

After that I still felt racy and, like last week, immediately got stuck back in at the front. Then it started to rain; initially fairly light but it built up to a fair battering. My legs started to tense up; I was thankful for the warmers. I fought off the cramps but once I'd got over it I was out of touch with the group.

I contemplated just packing it in, but knew I'd hate myself for it so decided to chase, come what may. Fortunately the rain was slowing the group a bit, so after about three hard laps I was back in it. Back in the shelter of the group I was able to get my breath back and after a lap or two got myself back to the front.

Just about at that point an attack was pulling a gap and a quickly a few riders started giving chase - I put on a spurt and got onto the back. I was happily following Nick's wheel into the first right-hander of the lower complex when my front wheel felt loose. I adjusted my line to correct it, but now I was on a trajectory that would involve foliage. From where I was sitting, it also seemed that tightening my line would have inevitably meant a face plant. I chose the former, aiming for the softest looking greenery.

I'd been carrying a lot of momentum, so found myself lodged deep in the very prickly scrub. Carefully I tried to extricate myself and the bike while avoiding further stinging from the bushes. Another rider had come off in sympathy, and so we rode back together to the start to rejoin after our lap out.

Back in the group and with four laps to go I was keen to make amends, but my rear wheel was feeling very slippy in the corners - I thought I'd picked up a puncture through my misadventure. Reluctantly, I stopped to check it out. It wasn't soft, but the edges were covered in a slick layer of mud. Too late now, I'd lost touch.

So a bit of a bummer, but the good bits felt good. My next race will probably Palace on Tuesday, I'm looking forward. Sun please!

Bagged another Prime

2009-07-31T19:53:00.005+01:00

Thursday nights race at Hog Hill was the most fun I've had on a bicycle in ages. Having won the points needed for promotion to 3rd Cat at Thruxton, and consequently my goal for the season, the pressure was off and I was happy to just enjoy riding hard and racing.

At the start the Commissaire mentioned that there would be a Prime at some point in the race. I was feeling lazy, and hardly motivated for sprinting shenanigans, so I thought I'd give it a miss - leave all that crazy stuff for the other guys.

But as soon as we started rolling my perspective changed, and I felt up for some racing. I kept near the front, conserving energy but staying in the thick of it. After a few laps the signal for the Prime was given. At first I was happy to stick with my assertion of taking it easy, but I couldn't. I'd been contemplating a charge up the left and was feeling pretty handy, so on the run up to the hill I watched and waited.

Another rider jumped quite early, near the foot of the climb. It was earlier than I'd wanted to go, but given it would be a great lead out, I jumped on. Close to where the hill starts to rise up, and nearly level with the front of the group, I made my move. The riders at the front were already starting to accelerate; I kicked hard. Clear of the group, and just cresting the hill, I spotted a wheel just off my rear. Somehow I managed to find a little bit extra and accelerated hard to the line and didn't let up until it was mine.

From then on, I got right on back with proceedings. I was surprised how quickly I recovered and how I was able to get stuck right in; although I did take it a bit easier for a few laps.

All too soon it was the final lap. To be brutally honest with myself, I'd lost concentration and ended up badly positioned in the group so wasn't able to contest the final sprint. Pity, because I think I had the legs for it.

Next week will be the final race of the Hog Hill Summer Series. I will miss racing at Redbridge, it is a fantastic circuit.

3rds

2009-07-27T20:22:00.007+01:00

Photo used with the kind permission of Graham Robins

After Hog Hill I was angry. Angry and depressed. I knew I could do so much more than all my recent race results implied, so to have yet another "nearly" result sucked. I had a lot to prove to myself to keep my motivation up. And I would have to prove it soon.

So all in all I went to Thruxton pretty angry indeed. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. The scars of my mistakes were fresh in my memory and I was determined not to repeat them. I was also determined not to succumb to the excuses. Despite my darling wife's best vicious massaging efforts substantially reducing the knot in my right calf (following the cramp), I still had a small and painful residual knot deep in the muscle. I'd also had a bad sleep the night before and woke up feeling rubbish, but I was determined not to take the easy way out and not race.

Running about 15 minutes late, I was soon rolling along the M4 headed west with my best motivational tunes playing. But I was nervous. I had big expectations - this was crunch time. I wanted a win.

My usual pre-race routine went like clockwork, and before long I was waiting with the rest of the field for the race to start. As soon as we were let off, two riders made a jump. I considered chasing, but thought that they'd probably burn and it would be too big a risk to take.

Of course, that was the only move of the day that stayed away until the finish, go figure. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I don't regret not following it; even if it meant I couldn't take the win.

My race was great. I raced hard. I chased attacks. I made my own attacks. Most were pointless, but two had half a chance. Most importantly, my later attacks softened up the opposition. All those mistakes I'd made in the last few races made me stronger, more wily. I felt like a cat amongst the pigeons. I felt confident. It felt good.

Fast forward to the start of the last lap: I opened the taps and put on the pressure. There was a rider out from a jump on the hill, I quickly bridged the gap and put the pressure on. Inevitably the group caught up, but they'd had to chase. Up the hill I took shelter in the group, and then roughly at the last brake-marker sign I kicked and didn't look back until just before the line.

Every rider dreams of winning a bunch sprint, crossing the line with no-one ahead and the group chasing behind in vain. I was so happy I screamed and then managed to hit myself on the head. I not sure what made me happier, winning the sprint or ending my streak of poor races.

Whatever it was it didn't matter. Nor did it matter that I actually only came 3rd. It mattered that I'd done what I set out to do - almost as if I'd scripted it.

So what next? This finish secures my promotion to 3rd Cat, so my racing moves to "the next level". And I reckon it's time to shave my legs again.

There are other great pics of the race on Graham Robins' website.

Disappointment at The Hill

2009-07-24T21:48:00.003+01:00

Image (c) Sport in Pictures/Gary Bowden

I arrived at Hog Hill on last night to clear skies in the distance, but a large grey mass overhead. The wind was fairly strong and I hoped it would blow the angry skies away.

As I walked up to sign-on, I noticed that the circuit direction sign was reversed - we would be racing the "wrong way", and this would also include the in-field at the top of the circuit. This put me off; I'd spent a lot of time thinking of how I wanted the race to play out only to discover I would racing on a completely different circuit!

After signing-on, I got on with my routine; pinned my number and got my kit ready. Halfway through getting the bike out, the heavens opened. Already being "past the point of no return", I hurriedly got the bike "assembled", and then clambered back into the shelter of the car to get dressed and wait out the rain.

Soon enough the shower was past, but it was heavy and it left a good deal of water on the ground. I sorted the bike properly (I had done a bit of a hash in my rush), pumped up the tyres and headed up to loosen up a bit. The circuit was very wet, and in places where mud had washed onto the circuit, very slippery too. I very nearly came off on my recce on a wash, which made me all the more nervous.

The skies seemed to be clearing and I was feeling good as we lined up for the start. My club was well represented, and it felt good to be one of the Dulwich crew. As we rolled off the line, it all started to feel really good. My club-mates were keen on driving the pace and I was feeling pretty racey.

There were a few accelerations up the hill, and at first these were OK, but eventually one hard run up the hill following an attack by a Southend Wheelers rider had me red-lined which it took me half a lap to recover from, which was a positive as I have been recovering quicker than before.

I'd dropped to near the rear of the pack, and so once my heart rate was back in the useful range, I worked my way forward again. I'd got a nice run up the hill and surprisingly found myself riding right to the front of the group. A group of four or five had just broken away, so accelerating over the crest, I found myself slightly ahead of the main group. My team-mates were right behind me, so time to do my bit and put the hammer down a little; or at least as much as I dared on the slippery track.

The run up the hill was good, but going down the other side I felt my rear wheel make a big step sideways. I was regretting not having reduced my tyre pressures and I was really struggling for grip. I chose my line carefully through the following corners and caressed the bike as gently as I could. It still felt precarious, but I managed to maintain momentum before letting someone else finish off the chase.

I was close to the red, but it was the climb that nudged me a bit too far, and I fell back through the group like a lead weight. I became detached from the rear of the group, but given how quickly I'd come back previously, I wasn't too worried. And it was much the same, I quickly got my breath back and was visibly closing the gap and getting back in touch with the group. The race was now about 40 minutes in; all I needed to do was get back in touch, have a bit of a rest until and then get back up for the closing laps. Not ideal, but doable.

But then the heavens opened. A monsoon-like deluge came down. In itself it was fine, I don't mind the rain too much, but worse was that the cold water on my legs chilled them and triggered a cramp. I rode with it for a lap and a bit, but soon realised it was pointless and pulled out.

I don't understand this cramping that I've had. Both times it has been my right calf, and only at the last two races at Hog Hill. Oddly I haven't had it racing anywhere else; not even Palace which is much harder than The Hill. I suspect my susceptibility may have something to do with race day nutrition; the work canteen is not the best and perhaps it is best to take my own lunch on race days. I certainly will give that a bash.

So, overall a big disappointment. My form isn't where I'd like it to be, but I know I had it in me to do a lot better. Still, I learned a few more lessons. I learned more about my limits and I learned that I really should drop my tyre pressures when it is soaking.

Back to base

2009-07-19T18:50:00.002+01:00

No, I haven't been slack in posting race reports; since Thruxton I'd taken a bit of a break from racing to pull myself from furiously trying to chip at my points balance and rather search for some from.

Step one has been trying to get in some long distance miles in on the weekends. As with so many things, easier said than done; there have been storage units to clear, rooms to rearrange post builders, furniture to reassemble and all the other unplanned chores that take time. But all those excuses made, I've got out a few times and put in some quality mileage.

The easiest way of getting good training in would be combining it with my commute; it is regular and far easier to work up the discipline to make the extra time for. My trip to work has typically comprised 20 mins hard across to Fenchurch Street Station, 40 mins on the train and finally 10-15 mins gentle spin to the office. Fortuntately the train stops at a few places along the way, opening up the opportunity for trading some of the train journey for saddle time.

For my "long ride" option, I started by turning off my trip to the railway station at the work side, and heading for Upminster, roughly halfway on the usual train trip home. It is a smidge over 20km and takes roughly 40-45 mins (depending on the training objective of the ride), so only adds a net 20 mins to the journey - which is pretty tolerable. Partly because it is such a handy time cost, I can also tag it onto the beginning of my trip giving me a sum total of about an hour an half a day good training time. I had to ease into the first week of doing this, and it left me knackered, but last week I was able to hit it quite a bit harder without feeling wrecked.

I'm planning to take a bit more time off from racing Palace, but I'll be at Hog Hill Thursday. It will be interesting to see how the work I've put in has improved my form. If how I feel now is a reasonable indication, it should be a lot of fun.

Riding around a field in Hampshire

2009-07-05T21:17:00.005+01:00

Thruxton motor racing circuit is a place that has always represented the BTCC (British Touring Car Championship) to me; good close racing and spectacular farming. Somehow I'd always expected that I'd someday attack it from behind the wheel of a classic mk1 Ford Escort RS1600 rather than the saddle of an aluminium crit bike.

From a bike racing point of view, the circuit is fairly straightforward. No particularly technical sections, and the uphill towards the end of the lap being short and gentle enough to make it less likely to split the group.

I'd gone to Thruxton with high hopes of nailing the last few points to reach Cat 3; I was hoping that the Cat 4 only race would follow the pattern so typical of Hillingdon where there is typically a group finish and, provided you've positioned yourself well, a placing is in the offing. Quite soon I realised this would not be the cace. The Cat 4 field was significantly larger, and was pretty racey.

Although I had planned to stay out of trouble and save it all for the end, a few strong attacks up the hill that looked like they had the potential to split the group had me getting stuck in at the front. I felt good and was coping easily with the accelerations, but better sense told me to rather drop back into the shelter of the group and recover so I'd have something left for later in the race when it would count.

On the 3rd last lap there was another strong attack that gained a gap, but I was able to bridge the gap with another rider to pull myself back into contention. On the penultimate lap I was feeling the pace of the previous lap a little, but was otherwise still good and positioned myself nicely in the first 10 or so wheels of the group. At the start of the last lap, another strong attack which I worked hard to chase but managed to make contact with half a lap in. My plan from here was to find shelter until the final hill and then to surge up to the line.

But this is where it all went to pot. The main field caught up. I rolled to the front to position myself well, but just as I did this, the pace slackened and I found myself 2nd wheel. The dude in front was toast and pulled off. It was the last Hillingdon race all over again. I didn't know what to do, and as all this was happening, I was now driving into the wind and, rather than get the recovery I had hoped for, found myself leading the group up the first part of the hill.

Inevitably someone behind accelerated off. I kicked to try to stick with it, and then tried to kick again when I realised I was still losing ground and losing positions. But the group had the jump, and in a flash more than 10 riders were past. I tried to accelerate again up to the chicane, but it was all in vain. Dejected I sat up and rolled in to the line.

So, I made the same mistake twice. Certainly I do need to work on my high intensity riding so that I can recover faster, but I also need to learn to read what is going on around me a bit better. I'm sure after sleeping on it, I'll realise where I went wrong, but I can't help but feel disappointed.

But there is still a lot of racing left this summer, and I know I am getting better and better each time.

Thursday at Hog Hill

2009-06-26T21:31:00.006+01:00

As I drove up towards Hog Hill, I could not but help notice the rather substantial increase in elevation of the road leading up to the circuit; it looked like a pig of a climb (forgive me). Once I'd got up to the clubhouse at the track, I saw the rather nasty looking climb up to the start-finish, I started to wonder what I was letting myself in for. Right then!

Hog Hill is pretty easy to get to from my office, so I'd arrived very early. This was great, and gave me a lot of time to get everything together, which included pinning the number "1" onto my jersey.

The preceding race, that from the faces of many of the competitors looked like torture, eventually came to an end and gave me a chance to do a quick recce of the full course. First off I managed to take a "wrong turn" onto the little loop that saw me back at the start finish, oops. Second time lucky, and soon I found myself at the crest of the hill with a glorious ribbon of cycling tarmac before me.

I was calm as we lined up on the start line. I was expecting to take a massive hammering over the next hour so I guess I was in a state of denial more than anything else. As we started rolling I began to feel better and better. The awful fatigue that had racked my body since Palace was receding as the effect of the endorphins grew and soon I had gone from tentatively feeling my way around to getting stuck into the bike race.

A few laps in I was feeling pretty racy and moved forward from pottering in the midfield to lurking near the front. I was definitely spurred on by the cooperation I got from my new Dulwich clubmates, but mostly I was just feeling really good. I'm told that at one point our small group at the front had put some air between us and the main group, but we were caught. Nevertheless, I was feeling very confident and was even starting to contemplate nabbing a point or two...

So you can imagine how gutting it was when my right calf decided to go into spasm after a small acceleration out of the hairpin. I slowed on the back straight and tried to massage it out. It felt much better after that and I got up the climb without hassles, but it started twitching again near the crest of the descent. I tried again to massage and stretch it down the hill, but it was in vain. I continued in this vein for the next lap and half until one last blast up the hill did me in and I was forced to stop with my calf in a horrible cramp.

My water bottle told part of the story; in all the excitement I had barely touched it, which can't have helped. So all I could do was massage my leg back to a useful state and watch the last four or so laps play out.

So bitter-sweet. I was gutted not to be able to finish, but excited to have had such a good race, especially after still feeling a bit of Tuesday's Palace outing in my legs before the race. I certainly am looking forward to my next race at The Hill.

Bonus blog inclusion: Hog Hill circuit from the saddle of the Ribble

Photo thanks to British Cycling

The circuit starts anticlockwise from opposite the clubhouse. The circuit drops off the plateau with a gentle left hander and then heads sharply into a lovely banked sharp left hander where the run back up the the crest begins. This geography gives this corner a wonderful rollercoaster feel. It can be taken pretty much as fast as you dare, with an amazing rush as you're pressed into the ground at the apex by the g-force.

The tarmac then heads over a gentle left hander over the crest of the hill and then a lovely long, gentle downhill stretch which gives you a chance to tuck in and gather your breath. Then into a gentle right hander as the circuit flattens out, another two quick right handers followed by a lovely hairpin that sometimes has you wishing that your crank arms were just 5mm shorter as the riders ahead accelerate away out of the hairpin onto the back straight. The back straight is a good opportunity to consolidate before a fast left hander and then the final run up to the hill.

At first the hill starts very as a very mild incline, but then kicks up a bit, and then a lot as it also takes in a right hander before the short run back to the start-finish line. This is easily the most characterful part of the track and it certainly can be murder when it wants to. Overall I love this circuit. It is both exciting and challenging. I'm sure it is a place you can grow into and has a lot to offer. I'll definitely be back soon.

Getting into the Palace groove

2009-06-23T22:00:00.004+01:00

I feel really good.

Racing is funny sometimes. It usually takes you to great highs or monumental lows, but rarely does it leave you feeling quietly satisfied. Today is one of those rare occasions.

Don't get me wrong - I don't do this for quiet satisfaction. I do this for the extremes - but still, a day like to today is rewarding and is far preferable to a kick in the teeth.

Following my friend Andrew's advice, I got myself a nice spot at the front for the start - got off quickly enough and found myself lapping fairly comfortably within sight of the front of the group - spot on! All previous nervousness with the corners was replaced by an easy flow, if a bit of frustration with other riders slowing up too much. In those opening laps, this meant bursts out of the corners to stay in touch that nudged up my heart rate. This would have been OK if it were not for the rapid increase in pace, and one particular acceleration up the hill that had me hitting the red.

Within a lap I went from comfortably riding near the front to hanging on at the rear. I hung on for a few laps in this way, but the concertina effect of only being able to take the corners as fast as those ahead of me meant that the repeated accelerations were kept bumping me back into the red and I was battling to hang on. Inevitably one fast run up the hill unhooked me, leaving me in no mans' land.

Alone I was making good, smooth progress, and surprisingly not losing too much to the group, but it was hard work. Our 3/4 race had split fairly early on, and the second group was quite far down the road - waiting for them wasn't an option. Trying to get back in was. A lap later, another Dulwich rider fell off the back. I caught him and we worked together for a while until gradually a group formed with others who had suffered the same fate as us.

From there on it was a fairly easy race - the pace wasn't too hard, but it was nice and quick. But importantly it was more all important track time, and I felt like I was starting to get Palace under my skin.

Overall, it felt like a good test. The legs were good, but I know where I need to do some work. Everything felt like it was coming together.

Thursday I plan to race at Hog Hill - it sounds like it should be a lot of fun but, more importantly, good training.

Thanks for reading my blog - and watch this space for news on The Hill.

A bit more cross training

2009-06-16T20:48:00.002+01:00

I worked fairly late this evening, so missed the race at Palace. Annoying because it really was a stunning evening. Oh well.

To console myself, I went across to to run through Battersea Park. As soon as I got there, I had this crazy idea to do some intervals. After Hillingdon I've come to realise that I need to spend a bit more time getting my body used to the idea of a sprint to the line.

I have no idea how long the sprints were, but they were all out and hard. I managed 2.75. It may not sound like much, but it sure did hurt. I'll be working out a more structured training program over the next few days and I look forward to hopefully putting something together that a) I can stick to and b) will make me faster.

Scraping my knees

2009-06-13T21:43:00.005+01:00

Today I disappointed myself greatly. It was a 4th Cat race at Hillingdon and all I needed to do was come 6th or better to secure the remaining points required to be promoted to 4th Cat.

The race was much as I expected and generally went according to plan. The riding was "cynical", with no breakaway attempts amounting to anything and the smallish field of about 24 staying pretty much intact for the whole race. I'd intended to just take it easy and loiter near the front, out of the wind for most of the race but inevitably I got stuck into chasing down the more dangerous looking attacks. I felt great - pretty strong with good acceleration. I was feeling pretty confident for the finish.

So when it came around, one of the more aggressive racers made a move and I covered it - then, just before the back straight when I was about to come though, he sat up. As he did this I looked back - a moment of hesitation that had the group pretty much back. Suddenly I found myself on the front no-one in the group interested in coming forward.

I will readily admit that this caught me completely off guard and settling into the back straight I missed the tiny window of opportunity to do something decisive to rescue the situation. Instead I dug the hole deeper and tried to do a quick charge to the line. Inevitably this served merely as a lead out, and in the blink of an eye, four riders were by then a small gap before I counted more than six.

I was caught with my pants down, the speed differential was just too great and I didn't have a second acceleration left in me to do anything about it. Perhaps a true schoolboy mistake; definitely another notch down to experience. But I still can't help feeling great annoyance at "what might have been".

I'm sure after a good sleep and some time to reflect, I'll get over it. Oh well.

Edit (Sun 14 AM):
After sleeping on it, I realise that I missed the first four coming by because I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't in the right gear to kick and I hadn't "cocked" myself. Deer in the headlights. I won't be doing that again.

Back up and running

2009-06-10T20:45:00.003+01:00

Last night after battling traffic for just and hour and 40, and about 5 mins off from Crystal Palace, I got a text from my friend Andrew letting me know the race has been called off. Too much rain, track too treacherous.

I must admit a twinge of relief. It had been bucketing down, and I was dreading Fishermans' in the wet. That said, it also seemed to be drying out and I was keen to race.

To make the best of the evening, as soon as I got home I pulled on my running shoes for my second attempt at running this year. It went well, and my knee felt 100%. I'll keep gradually upping my running mileage; running is great cross training for building cardio fitness and it would be great to hit the end of the year running fit for the XC season (which is only a few months off in reality).

I felt good after the run, but overall I still have this horrid all over tightness that stretching doesn't seem to be helping much. Apart from taking it relatively easy to spin the tightness out of my legs I have a plan that I'll report on once I've tried it. Let's just say it includes a certain Pineapple.

Second attack on The Palace

2009-06-03T20:23:00.005+01:00

At about 2pm the butterflies woke up and started fluttering madly, trying to escape from my torso. Last week I became enthralled with Crystal Palace. It is such a beautiful place to be. So calm, quiet and beautiful. Perhaps it is just the racing driver in me; I feel the history of the tarmac like a warm glow. But it is brutal.

I'd done a lot of thinking and visualising the difficult corners, and I'd ridden hard over the remainder of the week in preparation. I was feeling strong and mentally prepared - and this time the nervous energy wasn't anxiety but rather excitement.

I arrived at the track about 15 minutes earlier than the previous week, but in taking my time getting everything together, I found myself running a bit late and toward the tail end of a long queue at the signing up desk. Probably because of the amazing weather, the turnout was huge, and I think we (the queue stragglers) were lucky to all get to the start line.

My darling wife had made the trip out to watch, worth at least 5km/h - but in the rush there wasn't even time for, "Hello!" Instead I barely had time to pin my number on before rolling up to the start line.

I felt so much better than the week before, and managed to hang onto the back of the group for much longer than the previous week - but starting at the rear didn't help at all, and I found myself battling to hang on until one hard run up the hill got me unstuck.

I battled for a few laps trying to find someone to work with. I still don't understand Cat 3/4 riders who are unwilling to ride together with around 2/3 of the race still to run. I eventually caught up with two Cat 1/2 riders who, at first, I just sat with to get a breather, but then worked with. One of those riders blew and dropped off, leaving the other and myself to work together well for a good few laps, me pulling up the hill, him dragging us along the flat bits.

It was a great education to ride on the wheel of a quick rider through the technical bits of the circuit. I certainly gained a lot of confidence and managed to increase my entry speed quite substantially at both the hairpin as well as Fisherman's Corner to the point where I was hardly braking for Fisherman's, and felt the rear tyre scrabble a little through the hairpin. Have I mentioned that I love this circuit?

I began to flag on the hill and let the Cat 1/2 rider go (rather than hold him up) and so found myself in no mans land again until a few of us managed to cluster back together and consolidate a good pace. Sadly we were lapped, and a lap or two later and, with the final sprint imminent, we were pulled. A bit of a bummer, but good to get a chance to watch the final sprint.

So overall, fairly uneventful ride, but crucially a few more rungs scaled on Crystal Palace's steep learning curve.

Sticking with the pack next week? I certainly intend to.

Crystal Palace

2009-05-27T20:22:00.004+01:00

London traffic is bad enough. Driving into London in rush hour is never a great idea if you want to get to your destination quickly. So you can imagine how much it added to my nerves when I tried to get from work (Essex) to Crystal Palace (South East London) for a Tuesday night race with a tail-back on the A13 near Tilbury due to a snarl up on the Dartford Crossing (the notorious M25) and further queuing traffic one the same road closer to town due to a broken down car in the Blackwall Tunnel. After a few more hold-ups due to accidents and several wrong turns I was ready to pack it in for a bad job and head home.

But I figured that it would make sense to at least get a flavour for the circuit as a spectator, and familiarise myself with the route there, so I plodded on. On arriving in the car park at nearly 19:00 on the dot I noticed that the Juniors were still racing - perhaps I could still make it.

I got dressed as quickly as possible, and got the bike together while keeping an eye on the Juniors who thankfully kept circulating at race pace. Excellent. A friendly marshall directed me to the sign on desk and soon I was hurriedly pinning my number on with nervous hands.

I barely had time for a quick leak before rolling out onto the track for the first time to suss it out. I was hoping for a few laps to get a feel for it, but basically I got two circuits in before we all stopped at the line. I'd had enough time to work out that the corner at the bottom of the hill would take some learning, but otherwise thought it would be a nice, if demanding, circuit.

The pace was quite quick right from the get-go. Wanting to keep out of trouble while I got used to the track I decided to hang back; in retrospect a bad idea on such a narrow and technical track.

The Cat 3/4 group rapidly became quite strung out, and I found that I was battling through the corner at the bottom of the hill (originally Fisherman's Corner of the pre-war race track) and, to a lesser extent, the hairpin at the end of the start-finish straight. Fisherman's corner is a blind double apex with a huge bush/hedge at the apex which effectively makes the exit completely unsighted. I found approaching the corner at 50+km/h can be quite unnerving, especially as I was unsure of the appropriate entry speed or correct line. These will come with time, but last night it meant I lost ground every time through the corner which I had to make up on the climb back up to the start-finish straight.

The climb, previous known as The Glade, is mean. It is long and steep enough for you to know about it, and you need more than momentum to get up it. So playing catch-up on every lap up this drag really didn't help at all.

After a few laps I was dropped, but I kept the hammer down knowing that some of the weaker climbers would succumb and I'd have a few riders to work with. And so they did, but one of the guys seemed more intent on making pointless attacks to hurt the rest of us rather than working together. Eventually he attacked too hard and dropped himself. The rest of us never really got to cooperating properly and so splinted until eventually I was solo for the last few laps.

So overall, a hard outing on a wonderfully demanding circuit. This is the criterium racing that I've dreamed of since I was a teenager with a silly tan. I'm sure my racing will improve; I just need to learn the circuit, and work on my bike handling. A bit more proper time on the bike, like the hill hunting ride my mate Paul and I did on the Bank Holiday, can't hurt either.

I can't wait for next Tuesday, hopefully with less travel chaos so I arrive calmer, and some get return on the saddle time I plan to put in over the next few days. Of course, it should also set me up nicely for the Smithfield Nocturne which is now a week and a half off.

Onward!

Bonus blog inclusion: Crystal Palace, from the saddle of the Ribble

In the Pre-War period, Crystal Palace Park was also a motor racing circuit. Motor racing ceased in the late 1960's, but much of the original circuit remains. The cycle circuit uses part of the original Pre-War infield track that loops around the fishing lake.

On a bicycle, the lap starts easily enough on the straight on Terrace Straight (top right of the map) roughly level with Pond Hairpin in what is the wrong direction for the original track. The tarmac of this straight must be pretty old because it is quite broken, but is perfectly rideable and adds character.

The Link is now configured the other way around from the original and is fairly quick, but also fairly straightforward once you've sussed it out; only a little bit of broken tarmac at the entry makes it more interesting.

Out of The Link, it is a fast run to Pond Hairpin, which is fairly sharp but drops off viciously at the apex making line choice important - thankfully it is smooth. Because we are going the wrong way, Fisherman's Rise is a fast, full speed, meandering descent which leads down to the blind, double apex corner called Fisherman's Bend.

At the bottom of the hill Fisherman's Bend kinks and then disappears left behind a big fat bush/hedge that completely blocks the view of the exit as well as the large tree and grassy drop-off that wait to punish. This corner spooked me, but I'm sure will become easier as I learn it. I think it is much like T1 at Zwartkops in that sense.

Next up is Fisherman's Bend, a lovely double apex, decreasing radius which drops away to start with, but then lifts up, and can be taken pretty much as fast as you can arrive at it - which is great because it leads onto The Glade - a hard climb back up to the start-finish straight.

Back in action

2009-05-22T18:54:00.002+01:00

Thankfully my health has returned, and I've been back on the bike since Thursday. The first day back was mega - the well rested legs felt so powerful and my acceleration was just crazy. The only problem is that I have lost a bit of cardio fitness.

I have two weeks until the Nocturne, so this Bank Holiday, and next week I'll be training carefully and intensively to try to get my form back. It should be do-able - I'm feeling very positive about it.

Of Mice and Men

2009-05-16T14:19:00.003+01:00

Good news: I am getting better, even if my GP is still a bit baffled with what is wrong with me.

Bad news: I won't make the Hillingdon GP.

As I mentioned in my last post, I was on course of kick-ass antibiotics that worked well to sort out the flu-like symptoms and the pain in my lungs, but a good deal of tightness and the annoying cough remains. The doctor suspected a viral infection, so that puts be out of athletic action for at least a week or two; which means the Hillingdon GP is pretty much completely out of the question.

What this means is that my plans for the run up to the Smithfield Nocturne are quite thoroughly scuppered. I haven't worked out what I'll be doing in the time I have available, suffice to say that I'll be taking it very easy over the next few days to make sure I have no relapse and that I am at least healthy on the run up to the Smithfield.

Now, where did I leave those vitamins...

All those years ago...

2009-05-09T23:25:00.007+01:00

My darling wife found this picture while unpacking after our move - and it has been on the dresser waiting to be scanned in since...

It was summer 1992 and I was still a Junior. I was completely nowhere and none the wiser. I dreamt of winning mountain top stages on a Bianchi crafted from Columbus SLX tubing. And Paulina Porizkova.

The race was the Milky Lane from Durban to Scottburgh - 60km and with a tail wind. As usual, my Dad was there to lend support and help with all the logistics. It was practically sprint race, especially with the usual tail wind. On this day, I'd done something terribly daft like leave my helmet or gloves at home. I can't remember how this got sorted, but my Dad probably went home to fetch them (after kakking me out) - I am eternally grateful.

The race was perfect, I felt brilliant. Ryan and I were both quick that day, sticking close to the front of the bunch. At the mid distance hotspot (was it 'Toti?), I tried to contest the sprint, but inexperience had me forced into the gutter.

Towards the end of the race, about 2 or 3 km out, one of the fast riders attacked, I managed to hop onto the break for what was one of the most thrilling finishes I've had.

As we came up the final hill, the group began to splinter. I've always been good at sharp climbs, and so I started picking off riders on the run in. I saw my Dad looking down the road, trying to find the best vantage point for a run in photo. By the time he'd realised I was in amongst the leading riders it was too late - the lens cap was still on.

The result was great, 9th overall, and if I recall correctly, 2nd Junior. Total race time? About 1 hour 10. Absolutely brilliant. What a day!

The Drugs Don't Work

2009-05-09T11:12:00.004+01:00

A few days after writing my last post, I read that Davide Rebellin tested positive for using CERA at the Olympics - something that made me quite sad. I am tired of riders I enjoy being identified as cheats, the new order in cycling can't come soon enough.

Which leads to my drug taking; you'll be assured to know not of the performance enhancing genre. After the Reading race, the head cold came back with a vengence and then developed into a full blown, super nasty chest infection that has kept me largely out of action for the last two weeks.

To make matters worse out of desperation to get well quick, I succumbed to the doctor and a course of weak antibiotics that appear to have served to simply strengthen the offending infection making me worse rather than any better.

Having started down this route, I guess I have no choice but to ride it out to its conclusion. So back to the doctor (a different one) yielded a course of kick-ass antibiotics that should kick this infection into touch.

I'm not sure how this will affect my racing; I have an entry to the Hillingdon GP which I am loathe to let go to waste but, given that my goal is a good outing at the Smithfiled Nocturne, if I'm not substantially better by Monday, I'll have to consider if competing at Hillingdon makes sense.

There are a few other races in the calendar that I can use to warm up for Smithfield, so the situation isn't dire - just not as I'd hoped.

It's in the head: Reading Spring Race 2009

2009-04-26T17:46:00.004+01:00

When Davide Rebellin crossed the line to take his 3rd Fleche Wallonne on Wednesday, he pointed at his head. The 37-year-old rider proved once again that experience is as important as having the legs taking wins in difficult races. Ok, by no stretch of the imagination am I trying to compare myself to Davide Rebellin, but today I once again learned an important lesson about myself and bike racing.

I woke up this morning feeling pretty good. The night before, I'd stuffed myself full of every synthetic and natural cold therapy I could get my hands on, the combined effect of which seemed to have nipped my annoying head-cold in the bud. I didn't sleep that well through; I think the excitement of the race as well as trying to devise strategies kept me restless. But it looked like a perfect day for riding, so I hardly even considered my tiredness, and simply couldn't wait to get out.

The format for the day saw the E/1/2 race run separately from the 3rd/4th Cat race I'd be racing in. Our race would be over 4 laps of a 15km circuit (6 laps for the elite race). After the elite group started we would wait for them to complete one lap before our start. I was feeling really calm, just itching to get out and turn the cranks.

Before long it was our turn and we were being blown by a South Easter along the A4074 at silly speeds. In the middle of the peloton there was a strong smell of frizzed plastic, so I wasn't surprised that on the longer gentle downhill stretches I was brushing the brake almost constantly. All good things come to an end, and soon we were climbing what really is a short hard climb, but in the middle of the peloton it felt more like a minor bump as we pummeled it at +40km/h.

A rather hairy left turn took us heading south on the B4009. Now the wind was malicious, whacking us across from the left. On much of the stretch I found myself jammed on the left with no shelter to be found. The pace was still high and I was hurting a little, and now we were turning left onto a small lane back up to Woodcote.

To be honest, it really isn't such a bad climb, with a little lump before the main feature. It gave me a nice chance to catch a breather and check out the finish line, which would also be the line for the Prime on the next lap.

The second lap was more of the same, just faster. My computer recorded a max speed of 67.5km/h on the first lap, on the second this was 73.6km/h. I'm really glad I didn't read any of these numbers while I was actually riding, because the idea of riding centimetres off a wheel, with similarly small margins between handlebars and the like, is faintly insane. But well and truly a lot of fun.

Just before the climb I was in trouble. I'd found myself pushed to the left again and was suffering a bit from bludgeoning my way through the wind. Fortunately then, there was some sort of traffic issue and we had a forced stop for a few minutes.

Getting away from the stop I had a terribly embarrassing fumble for my pedal with meant I was once again towards the back end of the group, rather than at the front where I could keep an eye on what was going on. Largely buoyed by my prime sprinting success at Hillingdon, I was very keen to win this prime so it was critical for me to make sure I wouldn't miss the move or be boxed in.

One rider went for it, but it seemed too early - then a Junior who looked pretty quick gave chase, this was it. I hopped out of my seat and glued myself to his wheel. When it got to the point that seemed about right to me, I started to give it beans, but we rounded a corner and I realised it was still a way off. I sat up and hoped I could catch a wheel to ease onto for a bit before going again. It didn't seem that anyone else was giving chase, so it was just the three of us. I'm not entirely sure of what happened next, but I remember that I decided to go again, but then became confused about where the finish line was. Then I made the crucial mistake of slowing again, and then going again when it really was way too late. All these accelerations burned me, and after the last one I was toast. Suddenly I was going backwards - rapidly. I started accelerating slowly to get back in, but I couldn't accelerate fast enough and was spat out the back.

Back onto the A4074 I was starting to feel a bit better but even giving it all I could, my feeble 60-something km/h simply wasn't enough to pull back the peloton, and so I watched them wander off into the distance.

Two guys came past me, also chasing, I grabbed the wheel of one of the guys and caught a small breather - but then he accelerated and left me and the other guy in the dust. I had little choice but to let him go; so I settled back to a comfortable pace so I could recover a little before putting the hammer down on the climbs. To my surprise come the first climb on the A-road I not only soon found a rhythm but also started reeling in the faster guy (but unfortunately dropped the other guy). I caught him on the climb, but as soon as we were heading back into the wind, he didn't seem keen on working together, and pulled away from me.

Feeling all shades of misery, I trudged into the wind, keeping good pace for a solo run, but still painfully slow in context. Next thing a Zipp 808 suddenly appeared on my rear wheel. Bonus! The dude took a breather and then moved to pass - but I was recovering and was able to grab his wheel. Soon we were up with the guy who'd dropped me before, the three of us working together and so now making a much better job of dealing with the wind.

Turning onto the hill, the full effect of the wind became apparent, climbs plus head-winds are no fun. Unfortunately Zipp 808 and I dropped our third rider - from there we made a pact to work together for the last lap. Or at least until 100m from the line.

And so from there it was pretty uneventful. It was good to have someone to work with, and we certainly went fairly quickly. I was keen to sprint, but Zipp wasn't, so it was just me charging up to the line. Well down, but it was a blast.

So, my verdict? Perhaps surprisingly I think it was a pretty good day in the saddle. I am happy with my speed and acceleration (racing scooters and busses on the commute will do that). My legs felt good the whole way through. Perhaps I was let down a bit my my lack of pure head-down solo speed, but more importantly I let myself down by a grossly miscalculated series of moves that left me vulnerable and split me from the group and ultimately cost me being able to contest the race.

But lesson learned, another mark down to experience. Roll on the rest of the season!

I'm in!

2009-04-23T20:25:00.005+01:00

I was feeling quite despondent today. After being in touch with the organiser of the Reading Spring Race, it seemed unlikely I'd get a place. This weighed heavily on my spirits; simply put, missing this race for a 3rd time in succession would suck.

So imagine my excitement ... nay, jubilation when I fired up my computer read the email from the organiser confirming my place on the start line for Sunday.

The mind is a strange thing. I was feeling pretty rotten today. Head-coldish, a little tight chested. Generally feeling sorry for myself. I rode home really slowly from Fenchurch today; letting some of the quicker commuters ride away from me while I religiously followed a self imposed heart rate restriction. Not like me at all! But already, after reading the mail, I'm feeling so much better.

But certainly I do have a little bug - nothing more serious than a head-cold I suspect. So I'll be taking it very easy tomorrow and Saturday, but I absolutely can't wait for Sunday. Yesterday my legs felt great and I feel loose and strong, which bodes well!

Onwards to Sunday!

Loose, limbered ... and still on the reserve list

2009-04-22T20:50:00.003+01:00

I've been taking care of myself the last few days. Cooling down properly. Stretching every 2nd day (I am lazy, it really should be a daily ritual!). I even had a lovely fast commute home today - fast along Embankment I felt very loose and speed came easily.

So it is totally frustrating that I am still on the reserve list for Sunday's race! Still, I won't give up hope just yet. Hold thumbs!

p.s. Check out my new 2nd blog site (click here). It is all about my passion for bikes rather than my athletic endeavours.

Gaining in the shortlist race

2009-04-20T20:56:00.002+01:00

I've moved up from 5th to 2nd on the Spring Races reserve list; so all I need is for two more of the 80 listed entrants to bail out to assure myself a place - with a whole week ahead of us, I think I've got a pretty good chance of getting myself a spot on the start line.

Which brings me to my idiotic pulled muscle. I wanted to nip past a lorry that was parked in the filter lane. So I did a cyclocross dismount and shouldered my bike across a section of pavement before hopping back on again. Somehow I got the dismount wrong, and my left calf feels like its been clouted with a hot iron.

That said, the ride back from town felt pretty good tonight, and my legs responded well to accelerations and spinning. The only problem is out of the saddle - where it feels a bit nasty.

Roll on Sunday!

"Reserve list"

2009-04-13T21:19:00.003+01:00

Procrastination is a very bad thing. And in this case, just a bit silly. The day after entries opened for the Reading CC Spring Race I'd printed off the entry form and filled it in. All that was needed was attaching a cheque for the entry fee and that would be it. Except that meant I'd have to locate my chequebook (post house-move this was a daunting task, as I couldn't remember exactly which box I'd stuffed it into), so I procrastinated.

Over last weekend, with my daring wife doing her thing running a quick 42 in Paris, I figured I'd better get off my rear and send off the entry, which I did.

And all week I hadn't heard anything from the organisers, and I'd assumed no news was good news. Sadly this morning an email came through saying that the race was full, and that I was shortlisted awaiting a withdrawal. I have been assured that withdrawals are common and that, given I am 5th on the list, I have a good chance at a place on the start line. That said, it doesn't make it any less annoying.

In the meantime I will be positive and try to get my mind back into the racing frame of mind. My legs are pretty strong at the moment from my daily commute (which is pretty much a daily interval session), good for explosive speed and hard spurts. I'm less sure about their tolerance for endurance - but I think I'll be just fine.

My biggest worry at the moment is the state of my back. I had a fall a while ago and literally landed on my arse. As a consequence, my back hasn't been at all happy lately. Last week it was so bad that I battled to get any power to the pedals without sending my back into excruciating spasms. So I'll be doing as much stretching as I can to ease it up and to get ready for Reading.

Anyway, just holding thumbs that I get a race entry and that I manage to ease my back out. Hold thumbs.

Silly Commuter Racing

2009-03-07T09:47:00.008Z

My training has been getting on pretty well lately. Apart from a short interruption from having a one-day bug, it has been nice and steady. My training is made up entirely of commuting.

This consists of a blast over to Fenchurch Street every morning followed by a short two-and-a-bit mile loosening up to the Station. The morning rides are generally very quiet and, with less traffic, are at a far more steady and controlled pace, interrupted only by (multitudinous) traffic lights. The evening ride is far more crazy; and the traffic coming out of the vicinity of The City is probably best described a Battle. A low speed jostling between bikes, motorbikes, cars, cabs, buses...

The bicycles generally win, because we can get through the smallest gaps. And, given the amount of cycle traffic on my route, there is a lot of impromptu racing which is where it all gets fun. It's probably not the best way to warm up, as effectively it is usually game-on from London Bridge, but it certainly makes for a great interval session.

On the Bikeradar forum, this is known as SCR - Silly Commuter Racing - and the forumites enjoy posting stories of their latest scalps. There is also a cute ranking system (based on position in the food chain, my ranking being 7). I don't know if I've met one of the 'Radars, but I certainly have had a lot of fun chasing down whoever might be around.

My personal bugbear is red light jumpers (RLJ'ers). So I make it a goal to chase these guys down so I can give them The Eye, and then leave them for dead. This is the goal anyways. Usually I catch them only to reach another red, so being forced to repeat the whole process. Or they simply get away as I'm stopped by successive reds. Whichever way it works (and high horses aside), it is a hard interval session and has helped in acceleration hugely.

After Elephant and Castle, the nature of my ride (and prey) changes. From the fast sprints light to light, the route is less interrupted and so becomes about trying to keep pace with the cars - which is usually about 40-45km/h. The bike traffic seems to mostly continue straight ahead where I turn right to head to Vauxhall, so this bit is a bit lonely in terms of SCR. So it is time to dig in, keep the cadence smooth and let the legs burn.

Vauxhall gives me a bit of a breather as lights provide rest time, traffic density slows things down (together with the need to be a bit more alert to traffic hazards!), but here I also pick up a few more cyclists. Onto Nine Elms Road I'm usually quite stuffed, but this is prime SCR territory. Not as much by the quantity of contenders, but rather the quality of battles possible; there are few lights, the Red Route bus lane provides a nice free flowing highway and the fast guys I've met along here have been pretty quick indeed. This section has been great for getting in some nice long, high intensity efforts in as I'm usually chasing a flashing tail light in the distance, or doing my darndest to stay away from a white flashing LED behind me. Or just racing buses.

From Battersea Park, I do try to slow it down to get a nice cool down and make sure I haven't got piles of lactic acid in my legs, but inevitably I get myself in to chasing down an RLJ'er on the run to The Latchmere.

Inevitably you meet the same cyclists on a regular basis; there is a guy on a black Bianchi 1885 who I have yet to get the better of, and another notable is a Specialized Roubaix pilot who is quite a rouleur but sadly also an RLJ'er - which makes my life doubly difficult.

But hey, it wouldn't be a challenge otherwise.

The end of Winter?

2009-02-14T23:07:00.006Z

I woke up feeling grotty. The week had been a long one, and Friday in particular was miserable and draining. Not that I was feeling anything like what I'd classify as "poorly", but certainly not 100%.

In my fuzzed state, I missed wandering around the corner to my favourite local café for my Saturday morning hit (but I did get a bunch of laundry done - how's that for messed up priorities!). I got the bike, race bag and other racing essentials into the car on time, but misjudged the traffic and ended up being stressing about missing the race. I still fail to understand how it is possible that it was quicker to get from our previous home in Reading than it is from Battersea, but that is how it is, go figure. Anyhow, thanks to deft navigation (thanks Garmin), we arrived with enough time to sign on, unpack and get onto the circuit. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of trying to get to the track on time, but as soon as I was on the bike the fuzzy head was forgotten and I was feeling ready for action.

The first few laps of the race were quick; though probably felt faster than they were due to my lack of a warm-up. The Imperial trio were turning up the wick at the front which strung the group out a little. I moved up and got stuck in a little.

Thinking back to the first race of the Winter Series, it is amazing just how much the racing has evolved. Previously the racing was fairly cynical, a collection of random, ill-conceived attacks that, combined with little co-operation, would inevitably lead to nothing. Yesterday's race was a lot more interesting so that now the 4th Cat race is no longer seems to be mostly about riding around for half an hour and then hoping to finish in a reasonable place to get some points.

Back to the race: after staying right at the front in the early stages I decided to drop a but further back into the shelter of the group but keep an eye on what was going on. I was feeling great and was looking forward to the final lap. I got myself into two break attempts that looked like they had at least half a chance. The second was unfortunately ill-timed. For some reason I thought there would be just a lap to go when it started, but there were still two. I was gutted to head up the finish line to see the "2" board. Argh! A lap at full bore would be OK, but not two.

So I settled back in to catch my breath. I still felt great and was really looking forward to putting everything into a final surge to the line; I was ready to do something special. Unfortunately my run up to the line didn't go at all according to plan. I got boxed in and passed on the back straight and so ended up further back than I wanted to be heading into the 2nd last corner. Then that sickening sound of bike hitting the deck.

Being on the right edge of the track, I had nowhere to go but the grass, my momentum taking me right into the (thankfully flat) field. I've always wanted to do cyclo-cross, but this wasn't how I'd envisioned my debut on the rough stuff. And so ended my ambitions of a great finish. The guys who went down were OK, so I turned my cranks up toward the line to complete the duty of the lantern rouge. But despite the disappointing finish, this was possibly the best race so far - or at least the second best (last week was particularly enjoyable!). I felt great and I believe a good finish was definitely on the cards.

As with so many things, my experience of the Imperial Winter Series was completely not what I expected and all the better for it. Naively I has wanted to get stuck in, grab some points so I could start the season as a 3rd Cat.

I missed that target, being four points shy. But I have ended up gaining far more from the racing. I've learned a lot and my race craft is certainly sharper. I've also grown a lot more confident as a racer.

For now I'm looking forward to the rest of 2009, certainly a lot more racing. Firstly I'm going to have a lot more fun. And secondly I'm going to chase those points down; there are still a few races around in the coming weeks, so perhaps I'll drag myself over to Redbridge to see what that all this talk of the big hill is all about.

Prime Spot

2009-01-04T09:21:00.009Z

January 2009 has been crazy. With trying to find a new flat, then moving in on the 24th and afterward trying to settle in, my blogging has been a bit poor.

Getting back into bike racing has been going pretty well in spite of the upheval, I've improved my finishes, learned many lessons about how and when to chase and most critically where to position myself.

Race 7 on the 3rd Jan saw me getting another 9th on a relatively warm and beautifully sunny day. There wasn't much wind and I was feeling pretty strong. I was a little disappointed with the position as I managed to get horribly boxed in at the end and found myself on the back foot heading up the hill to the line.

Race 8 on the 10th was in some of the hardest conditions I've ever ridden a bike in, biting cold with a dusting of snow on the track. I suffered a lot, and the cold took it out of me badly. I found it difficult to concentrate and to make matters worse I found operating the basic controls on the bike difficult as I'd lost feeling in my fingers. I guess us Saffers aren't built for these sort of conditions; winter in my home town of Durban rarely getting below 10°C in winter!

Race 9 was good fun. Despite very nearly getting caught up in an incident on the run up to the line, I managed to keep a bit of momentum and secure a 7th. The race was good start to finish, I rode with my head and I was feeling strong from being on my bike a bit during the week hunting for a new home. Things were starting to come together.

Race 10 I missed as we were moving. What a pain.

Race 11 - what a disastrous weekend! We were in the throes of unpacking, and so I ended up being a bit late getting to the race. I also wasn't feeling great from a hard week at work and a fairly hard new daily commute across London. Whatever the excuses, it was a culmination of things going wrong (I'd also I forgotten my track pump, my gears weren't shifting quite right ... it was just one of those). Enough said.

Race 12 - I woke up feeling positive, I'd got the bike 100% the night before and I was ready to race. I was up for doing something today; trying something new and maybe a bit interesting. There was a sprint prize at 20 mins which I thought would be cool to get stuck in for, but it wasn't my focus. I was keen to stretch myself in some way and learn more about what I could do.

After 20 mins the bell went I and I was feeling nice and loose from a few pulls at the front, so I thought, "Why not?" Heading onto the back straight I rolled up to the front. The pace was surprisingly slow with the tension only just starting to form, "This was my opportunity!"

So hopped out of the saddle and gave it everything. I was convinced someone would be on my wheel so I decided to keep the hammer down all the way - accelerating and not letting up until I crossed the line. Even then, it took a few seconds for it to sink in. I was so surprised when I looked back and saw the huge gap I'd pulled on the group - it felt pretty cool indeed.

Of course, as that excitement ebbed, the flaw in my plan emerged. I had put everything into that sprint, and now I was battling to recover; as one of my mates put it, "Now you've just got to do the same in about 15 minutes."

I tried to find refuge in the group but the pace was going up and shelter from the wind was in short supply. In all honesty I'd run out of juice and just didn't have enough for another all out run up to the line.

So a rather anoymous finish after my moments of glory, but I reckon it was worth it. I really enjoyed charging up to the flag for the Prime, and I know far better what I am capable of. I'm really looking forward to the last race next weekend, but also the 2009 season. I reckon it is going to be a good one!

Speed catches ...

2009-01-02T20:51:00.002Z

What would you say is a perfect way to mark the New Year? This year (my darling wife) Tasha did a 10k trail run at Bodmin Moor.

When we got there, I looked at the route map and thought, "hey, the elevations must be in feet" and when we looked across at the "tor" we assumed the run can't be heading up that thing. Was I wrong.

Bang on 11am the group trundled off, and I watched them traverse the valley, and head up the mountain. Eish! At this point I realised that the 1 hour target I'd chatted to Tasha about might have been a bit optimistic. Nevertheless I knew she was having fun, so I dragged my cold body (+ sore knee and Life in the UK study notes) into the warm bowels of the Jamaica Inn.

I wandered back out at around 45 mins past - expecting that most of the fastest runners would already have got in, only to get there in time to witness the first man in. OK. This was clearly a hard run.

Tasha made it in 30 mins later, looking pretty good. By all accounts she had a great time and did a solid run. It was odd for me to sit on the sidelines, but I am very proud indeed.

But I'm now preparing myself for tomorrow. I think my head is where it should be, but my knee is still quite uncomfortable. I'll try to save it all for the finish. Looking forward.

Ok, now I need more

2008-12-29T12:53:00.003Z

It's funny. A month back I had this Hillingdon block and wondered if I'd ever finish a race at the West London circuit - there always seemed to be something going wrong to scupper it. So after Round 3 of the Imperial Series and finally putting a point on the board, I went into Round 5 (missed 4 due to Christmas in Exeter) expecting a placing.

I'd driven up from Exeter the day before, and got in fairly late. Then I had to play with my new toy (Garmin 705 generously given to me by my sparkling wife), so I only got to bed very late. Saturday morning was a scramble after I wittered away much of the morning reading the new Cycling Plus, so I got to the circuit with just enough time to sign on, put my bike together, get dressed and do two warm-up laps.

It was very blustery, with a strong North Easter howling across the track. It would be a difficult sprint. The field was fairly small, 28 riders, and consequently it was fast but not too intense. I stuck to my plan of keeping out of trouble but staying close to the front, though I managed to somehow find myself in a breakaway group a few laps from the finish. This almost messed up the race for me as I was well into the red and nearly fell off the back of the group! Fortunately I held on and got myself back in contention.

Unfortunately I fluffed the sprint again - this time ran out of legs about 10m from the finish line, and in the process lost a bunch of places. Ended up 10th overall again, so another point to my credit, but I do nevertheless feel a bit annoyed with myself and know I should do better in the sprints.

I learned a bit more and got a bit faster. My knee is conspiring against me, so I'll be taking it very easy this week, and will hopefully be back in fighting form for the weekend.

No longer pointless

2008-12-20T18:18:00.005Z

I had a good race today. It was the 3rd race of the Imperial series. The sun was shining (sort of), and the wind was strong but steady.

I'd spent the night before getting the bike 100% for the race, so it was shining and whirring along perfectly as I turned onto the track for the warm up. I felt good, helped no doubt by time on the exercise bike at the Dartfod Hilton, but it was colder than I'd thought so I had to switch to full gloves from the mitts I thought would be OK.

The race started fairly slowly, and I found myself close to the front wanting to drive the pace a bit, but knowing I didn't have the legs for anything too crazy. Next thing I know I'm off the front with the group a good 20m back. I was tempted to sit up and wait for them, but then I thought the better of it and put my head down. I decided that I'd stay out for at least a lap, which I managed, but it was futile, there was no way I was going to ride out solo until the end. Gasping for air, and with my heart rate on the red line, I was relieved to be caught and settled back into the cover of the group.

After about 15 mins, by knee started playing up again. It was hurting quite a bit, and I considered packing it in, but decided to see how it got on. It must have eased a bit, because I noticed it less and less so it wasn't an issue for the rest of the race.

The race was fairly uneventful and soon enough the 5 lap board went up, and the pace went all stupid - mostly it was absolutely mad turning on the finish straight uphill, but almost ground to a halt into the wind on the back straight, no-one being willing to work. This played right into my hands, allowing me to pick my position - the pattern continued with four, three and then 2 laps to go. I positioned myself in the perfect spot to attack, so on the last lap I was chasing right into the thick of it - and I was able to use my momentum to get a jump on the group for the sprint.

I started the sprint in 3rd, but sadly daft gear choice and legs that simply weren't up to it saw me fluffing the sprint badly and a few riders managed to scoot through.

After the race I hunted down the official and found that I was recorded 10th. Ok, it is the last points paying position, but still in the points.

So I've opened my 2009 BC account and now plan to make many more deposits. Bring it on!

Imperial #2

2008-12-15T20:22:00.002Z

Stinking weather keeps away crowds. It made a change from the first race and what was apparently a record for a Cat 4 event at Hillingdon. The wind was howling from the South East, the rain was unrelenting and it was bloody cold.

I arrived early to sign-in and fortunately had a lot of time to settle myself and warm up. That said, given the stinky weather, I sat in the car as long as possible before braving the track for a recce and "warm-up".

Despite the weather, the track was clean, with little debris or mud and it felt good to get out and turn my legs. I chatted to a few of my fellow competitors during warm-up - all in all it was quite amiable. The group on the start line was small, which had me thinking that we'd be in for a hard race. With the wind beating us up on the straight, and with a small field, it was a great opportunity for a small breakaway group to take advantage and ride away from the main group.

And so it happened, the pace was really hard, with attack after attack. I found myself battling to keep in the group and once I had to work really hard to get myself back in as the wheel I was on splintered off the back. Then a few more vicious accelerations, the main group was split and was trying to make up ground. My legs just weren't up for it and started to cramp. I tried to massage it out but it wouldn't go away, so I decided to just ride on.

I fought hard to get back in, getting fairly close to the group, but I couldn't make it stick and soon found myself in that awful zone just off the slipsteam without enough juice to get back in. Onto the back straight I fell back and wanted to just make it stop. I tried massaging my calves again, but again with no benefit. I approached the "pit entry" but decided to stick it out and hang on. You never now what may happen and with a willing partner or two, getting back in the race wasn't too far fetched. So I kept pushing.

Another rider ahead had been dropped, and so I started chasing to try to get onto his wheel - and it seemed to be going well until my legs said "no" in a big cramping fit. "Argh!" But it was after 35 mins, into the last 5 laps and I was going to stick at it.

The low was being lapped, two laps from the finish. I thought that at that stage I was out, but after stopping I was told by an official that I did not have to stop, so I got back out. By this stage my legs were screaming, and even the gentle acceleration out of the "pits" triggered bolts of cramps.

The finish was thoroughly anticlimactic, but it was brilliant. I had not only broken my Hillingdon block, but also won a battle against myself. The experience was invaluable and it will help me next time. I can't wait for the weekend!

Knee & the Imperial Winter Series

2008-12-10T22:15:00.004Z

So, this blog hasn't been very active at all lately.

Since the Royal Parks my knee has been buggered and I've been largely out of action. The physio reckons it is an over use injury - basically 2 half marathons with little training is a bad thing.

This year has been very disappointing for me - I'd had high hopes but many things - both under my control and beyond - have conspired to make it highly unsuccessful. Bother.

So the knee is getting better, but it still aches and I'm not even going to try to run on it yet. So I've taken to some winter cycling and have decided to enter the Imperial Winter Series at Hillingdon. The first race was this past weekend. I arrived about 35mins before the start only to find a ridiculously long queue! I got to the start with a minute or so to spare, and I estimate that there must have been at least 80 riders in the 4th cat race! Most were novices which was to prove a bit of a problem.

At the start I was in good shape and enjoyed my time at the front. After 25mins or so (it was a 35mins + 5 lap race) I started to lose concentration and ended up somewhere in the middle of the group. This is where it all went pear shaped. I got caught up in a fall and went straight over someone's bike. Fortunately I was able to vault off my bike and do a running landing on grass. My bike also took the landing well, and apart from skew bars and a loose headset, I was still in action.

The slightly wonky bike and shock of the crash got to me a bit and started to make me feel really nervous in the group. My plan was to get some air, and then get stuck in again. Then another crash which I narrowly missed going down in, followed by another which forced me to a complete stop. By this stage it was a lap and a half to go, so I had no chance whatsoever. So it was a slow walk to the finish.

I'm going to give it a whirl again this Saturday - the forecast looks gloomy, so I hope it will keep away a large part of the novice field. I'd really like to get a placing so I can start to gather some points together! That said, my form isn't great, and my knee is still sensitive, so I'll have to just make sure I get myself in the right place at the right time.

Looking forward.

Running in the Parks

2008-10-26T14:14:00.002Z

I've been doing a bit more running lately, but sadly not as much as I'd hoped to - a hurt knee, work travel and fatigue conspiring against me.

A few weeks back we ran the Royal Parks Half Marathon, Tasha taking up a spot in the npower team from a colleague who couldn't make it. The event itself was wonderful; really well run and the route was beautiful and fun. The weather was perfect, if a bit hot (not that I'm complaining) which added to the atmosphere.

Sadly I got caught in terrible "traffic" at the start, and battled to get into a nice quick rhythm. I felt really strong up to about 10 miles, but then started to really struggle - my hips and knees feeling pounded. I finished feeling absolutely awful, and it showed in the time - a 1:42 or thereabouts. I was gutted.

A week later I discovered that we were the fastest corporate team - by 6s! Incredible. I am so glad I fought the urge to walk the last km or so! It would have been even worse to have lost by a tiny margin and know that if I'd just dug a bit deeper...

Ifs and buts aside, it was a great outcome to what was overall a lovely run. Still a disappointing experience for me in that I know that I should have done much better. Lessons learnt - it has been a bad year in terms of keeping in competitive shape; I can only make sure I do better next year.

My training runs, when I've found the time, have been good apart from yesterday morning when my knee felt like it wanted to explode. Now it is just throbbing and I sense I need to be gentle with it for the next month or so. Which is extremely frustrating with Cross Country starting next weekend! I'll see how it shapes during the week - and hopefully I'll have some good news to post in a week from now.

Bye for now!

Jogging around Wiltshire

2008-09-16T19:02:00.002+01:00

This Sunday past was the Chippenham Half Marathon. Tasha had entered so I thought I'd also do it for moral support, and in the process put my name down for the Corporate team.

Having spent the summer mostly mooching (and occasionally riding around the countryside), I wasn't and am not in such great running shape - but I still felt good about trying for a 1:30.

The short if it is that I suffered over the last 3mi/5km and in so doing, missed my target by 6 mins. Otherwise it was great fun indeed, and I am now thoroughly motivated for the winter cross country season.

I'm still a bit sore today, but I've been using the bike to loosen my legs up again after Sunday, and might do a little speed work in prep for the MCAA 6-Stage Road Relays on Saturday up in Birmingham. That should be a fun event too - but I'm looking at all these events as training for the upcoming XC season. Good to be back!

Neath, a place on the list of trains stops

2008-05-25T21:51:00.004+01:00

I had been all fired up for the Castle Combe Summer Series race, but being at Aberthaw (in South Wales) for the week and the 2 hour drive to Chippenham for the race meant I had to find a local event to ride instead. I found a the President's Trophy Handicap Road Race, a 67km event, run by Port Talbot Wheelers in Neath just up the road that looked to be perfect.

Until now, all I knew about Neath was that it was one of the stops on the Swansea train from Paddington – a train that typically I’d hop on at Reading and off at Swindon on my way to work. It would be quite exciting to put a face to this name that is monotonously read out after every stop!

I packed all my gear into the car in the morning, and inevitably spent much of the day fretting about the one item (my bike computer) that I realised I’d left in the hotel. I really do need a checklist! Fortunately the hotel was on the way to Neath, so no serious problems.

Another unexpected bonus came with the afternoon’s tests going pear shaped, giving me a good reason to leave the station early to get ready or the race. I got back to the hotel, packed and made sure I had everything I needed, and then had a short half hour nap.

I woke feeling incredibly calm, so I hopped into the car and put on some Mark Knopfler to help get me into the racing frame of mind. I was really amazed with how calm I was feeling. Even the days before, I was feeling absolutely no anxiety which is unusual. Not bad, should be a doddle then.

The signing-up table was in a sports hall – when I arrived I was one of the first competitors there, and we had to wait a little while for the organisers to get ready for us. The usual suspects were there; the young stallions, cocky as hell and too cool for their carbon wheels. I had to smile, the poses and banter were all too familiar – it could so easily have been Ryan and I apart from the modern trend of poking the shades into the helmet holes.

Entry fee handed over and number in hand I was suddenly overwhelmed by a massive wave of anxiety. Huge. I stumbled over the car and started unpacking the bike. I was a mess; it was like the minor anxiousness that I should have felt in the week before was hitting me all at once. All unpacked, pinned, dressed and bike test ridden, I took a few minutes to gaze into space and feel more nervous before hopping on my bike to warm up.

From there on time flew. Before I knew it we were listening to the completely unintelligible starter’s orders and we were off after the lead car. The clouds were looking evil, but most of my competitors were in shorts and short sleeves. I’d opted for warm tights and arm warmers; was this the right choice? I didn’t have too much time to ponder this, the pace was crazy and my heart rate went through the roof. We were heading up a gentle uphill at well over 40km/h and this was the first few km! I was now starting to wonder if I had possibly bitten off much more than I could chew. No problem, I’d stick to my plan which was effectively to do as little work as possible until the finish.

The first lap went by quickly, and to be honest I have no idea how many laps of the course we did. I did get validation of my clothing choice when we got lambasted from the heavens. There really is something special about being in a peloton with the spray of the bike in front in your face! And even with this, the pace hardly let up. To make matters worse, every time I checked the Heart Rate Monitor, it was 170+ which made me a) think I was soon to be in trouble and b) decide not to look at the HRM anymore.

A few times there were breakaways that looked like they may be dangerous; I chased two down and tried to make sure the bunch didn’t split. I knew I didn’t have the legs to work with a breakaway group, but that I’d stand a chance in a bunch sprint. The new bike was just perfect for these fast accelerations, responsive, stiff and almost weightless. It was a joy!

There were a few exciting moments in the corners. In the first a rider in front braked unexpectedly which had me locking up the rear and sliding sideways into the corner. The second was a slick drain cover that caused me a huge slide that I somehow managed to survive; I put it to the hours spent tearing around on my BMX.

Before I knew it, now joined by the E/1/2/3s, we were headed at ridiculous speed to the finish. I knew there was a short climb not long before the finish line, so I decided to have a go there and give it stick up the hill I came flying over the crest, but it was too early as there were still a few hundred metres to the finish. The bunch surged but my legs were cooked and there was no way I could get into a position for the sprint. I found myself spinning my 53x12 (+60km/h) but making no headway at all.

Apart from the mistimed surge at the end, it was an awesome race. The stats from my computer say it all: average speed – 42.7km/h, maximum speed – 62.6km/h, distance 67.5km, time 1:34.

I felt strong and my legs felt loose and smooth. I could keep my cadence high and even. It all felt efficient and steady. Looking back at the HRM data, my heart rate wasn’t quite as bad as I’d thought; I think I’d probably glanced at it after every hard session rather than when I was relaxed, so not too much to worry about there.

And as a first outing for the race bike it was great, it felt perfect, rode fast and reliably and fit like a glove. I have been cured of bike lust. Well temporarily anyways.

Excellent pictures by Brian Smith

2008-04-30T21:03:00.003+01:00

I've added a few images (retrospectively to old posts about events past) from Flickr taken by Brian Smith, at this point without permission - I like them. Tks Brian.

National Road Relay Champs

2008-04-27T22:02:00.007+01:00

It was a perfect day. The sun was out, and I was feeling strong. I’d been pretty poorly lately – more so than I can remember being in a long time. I’d fallen off my bike (my ribs still hurt from that incident), a nasty cold kept me out of action before the Midlands, and since then I’d picked up a nasty stomach bug in Belgium that had me down for nearly a week and forced me to take a long period for recovery.

The first time I’d exercised my cardio system since the illnesses was Friday when I gave my commute a bit of stick. I was fast too – averaging 32.9km/h through traffic on the way to the station. I knew I was strong, but I could also feel that my legs weren’t used to the strain and seemed to have less capacity for lactate than before. Saturday would be interesting.

Saturday morning I got on my bike to get the groceries. It was good to have the opportunity to spin the legs a bit to loosen them for the run in the afternoon. At first I was a little worried because my legs did seem to be lacking sparkle; keeping up the cadence seemed to help – almost like a nice massage. I was feeling good.

The drive up to Sutton Park was lovely, sunroof open, good music and knowing where I was going to all helped. I still managed to get a bit lost, but it was no problem at all. I still had plenty time to ready myself for my leg.

The start was “busier” this time, so with runners in front of me I really needed to make a point of not letting the need to get ahead compromise my own race. I paced myself easy up the first hill; it was difficult and demoralising to let the light blue vest of the runner in front slowly creep away, but I was close to the red line and knew any harder would be too hard and I’d blow. Worse was when a fast spindly dude flew past me – I felt like I was just going to be going backwards the whole way. A bit of doubt crept in; did I go off too fast trying to catch the runner in front? Did that virus whack my form more than I’d thought? Would it have been better if I’d not cycled to Waitrose this morning?

“Concentrate!” I told myself, it was a bit like a moment from the film 'Wimbledon'. Quickly I focussed and concentrated on my footsteps and breathing. Soon I’d found I’d found a nice rhythm; I was feeling happier in my skin and confident in how I was setting my pace.

One thing though, I was definitely going harder than I had in the Midlands, everything was burning and I wanted one thing only: for it to stop. For that I needed to reach the finish line, so I pushed on hard.

The 5km went by very quickly – I think having run the course before helped, as did knowing the course and having much better weather. It was such an awesome feeling, knowing that I was going so hard, and that it was just about all I could do.

Reaching the final straight up the hill was great. The rest of the team was cheering me on, and it felt sensational pushing myself to my absolute limit. The line couldn’t come quickly enough, I felt near collapse and had to hold the railings to keep upright! (this pic is approaching the line)

I timed myself at 18’24”, but the timekeepers officially had me at 18’23”. At the Midland round I’d done 18’22”, so pretty metronomic then! Altogether, given my heavy and repeated illnesses, I’m pretty happy with the result.

As a team we managed 47th of 52 teams, and finished under 5 hours at an average of 3'47"/km - which is pretty decent I think - especially for a small club.

I’m much prouder of my 18’23” than the previous 18'22" – I was in bad form and it really was totally on the limit – there wasn’t anything left in the tank at all. What a run! Most of all it was an honour to be able to compete in the National Champs, and a very special experience.

Midland Road Relay Champs - Sutton Park

2008-04-07T20:05:00.000+01:00

I woke up knackered on Saturday morning. Having been a bit anxious about the race, I had a very restless sleep. The week before I had a nasty fall off my bike on the way to work and bruised a few ribs on my left side which had made hard breathing quite painful. To make matters worse, I had also just got over an annoying head-cold so I really was having some serious performance anxiety.

Anyhow, while munching my muesli and screwing the spikes back into my XC shoes (for therapeutic purposes, I didn’t need them) I decided that what had gone had gone and all that mattered was doing my best out on the course. With that I hopped into my newly-acquired car, opened the sunroof and headed off to get some gas.

I pottered for a while and but soon it was time to pack everything up and pick up Bryan from the station. And so started the adventure, we blasted up the B-road through countless little villages (and 30mph zones) and then onto the M40 headed up to Birmingham.

The directions to Sutton Park were pretty confusing but, with the help of some joggers, we managed to find the right gate and the race area. We were pretty early for my leg, but it was nice to have time to work out how things worked and calm myself. Bryan was thankfully very patient as I know I can be quite pedantic about making sure I know how things work.

The weather was something quite perplexing. One minute it was windy and raining, fifteen minutes later calm and sunny, and then a few moments later sleet. When waiting for my leg there was a bit of hail, but it quickly cleared and I had some lovely sun for most of it.

Apart from lapping another runner early on, I ran the whole leg alone which made it tricky to pace myself. At about halfway some spectators shouted to a runner behind me. I was going fairly hard, but not sure if I was being caught, it gave me impetus to turn the wick up a bit more.

By now the ribs were aching a bit, but I was feeling really strong. I had that spring in my stride and my lungs were gulping and exhaling with mechanical precision. It felt brilliant. As I sensed the finish getting closer I notched the pace up and up until eventually I was on the final climb up to the line.

The hill was awesome. It was a pretty steep climb, not too long. Until this stage I’d just been nudging the red, but now was the time to bury the needle firmly in the red. The hill felt stupendous; although right on the limit, I still felt incredibly strong.

The run had felt great, but I’d started my watch late so I wasn’t sure of how fast it had been. Given the pain of my ribs, I started to doubt my time and was disappointed – convinced I’d run a mid-19. The times for my leg weren’t posted immediately, so I had nothing to disprove my suspicion.

It wasn’t until this morning (Monday) that I found an email from the Club Captain; we’d finished 18^th overall and I had run 18’22” – 23s faster than my target time. Even better, as a team we had qualified for the Road Relay Nationals in two weeks time!

So in the end, a performance to be proud of for the team “with all the boxes ticked”. As far as I know, the Nationals will be at the same venue and hopefully the same course.

The weekend promises to be quite busy and exciting – the following day (the 27^th) will be my first race on the Ribble – the Reading CC Spring Road Race. 80km around the Chilterns should be a great challenge and will hopefully play to my natural climbing ability.

As usual, I can’t wait!

Running around town

2008-03-08T11:00:00.000Z

Last weekend I had the enviable luxury of running a race around my own neighbourhood. Zoe at work had organised a team to run in the Osbourne Clarke Corporate Challenge – a 5.5km x 4 relay within the Reading Half Marathon. I’d chosen to run the third leg – the start was in town next to Forbury Gardens and the finish of the leg just outside my house. Plus I’d be able to grab a quick coffee before the start. No brainer really.

So with some time to spare for a quick cuppa, Tasha and I wandered down into town to Picnic where I settled down to a fresh Americano and a flapjack (fuel, of course!). I’d worked it so we’d theoretically have tons of time to spare, but moments after sitting down Tasha exclaimed that the first runners were going past. I ran outside to see a skinny dude sprinting ahead of the lead car. 27min had elapsed and this dude was just short of half distance! In other words just shy of 2:45/km! Incredible.

I was expecting our first two runners to do about 4:30/km, so I knew I still had at least 20 minutes, but seeing the main feature race leaders got the competitive adrenaline pumping and I was anxious to get out.

It worked out well, I had time to warm-up, settle myself and find a good waiting spot in the relay change-over area in good time for our runner coming through. I was a bit confused as I’d expected Edward, not Zoe, but that was all immaterial – it was time to get on with it as we were about 8 places down!

I bolted off and soon found myself tripping over the gaggle of half marathoners filling up the road. It was a bit frustrating as I battled to find my stride, but forced me to settle and concentrate on the job at hand. As soon as we got out of the confines of the inner city (Reading, being small, meant this happened quite quickly) I found I was able to find more space to open the taps. A nice short, sharp climb early in the leg also helped me make up some ground and also had the effect of stringing out the field.

Now I found myself on the undulating road to Prospect Park, concentrating on my stride and taking in as much air as I could. I felt a bit fraudulent was blasting past many of the runners on the road, most of them no doubt running the full distance, but I was intent on making up some places in the relay race. Unfortunately the race numbers were on the front so it wasn’t possible to distinguish the relay runners from the half-marathoners, so I couldn’t “pick out my marks” – so all I could do was push.

The climb up past Prospect hurt a bit and it was also quite narrow which meant it was quite congested. Then again, the stretch down Bath Road/ onto Castle Hill and the end of the leg was wide and open – and it hurt even more as I opened up the taps all the way.

I found Edward looking fairly calm at the relay point. A glance at my watch read 19’41” which was a bit off my target of 19 minutes flat, but still decent I thought.

It was quite luxurious to be able to simply wander down the road into my front door and a warm shower – a great reward! Overall our team did 1:29’40” which secured us 4^th place out of 50 teams, 9 minutes off the lead and a minute off the podium – not a bad showing at all.

So now I look forward to the Midland Road Relays Championships on the 5th April which will have me either doing a 5 or 8km leg (from what I can work out it is 8x3mi or 4x5mi). Either way, it should be a blast. I just hope I can find a bit more speed before then.

Not a shabby warm-up

2008-02-28T20:15:00.002Z

I felt a bit poorly yesterday, slept really badly night before last and felt like I was coming down with something. Tasha pumped me full of fizzy Vitamin C and I just took it as easy as I could. On Sunday I'll be running in the Reading Half Marathon Corporate Relay (a last minute change as I had intended to run in the last XC meet of the season at Horspath), so that has been my focus. This week has been about preparing for Sunday.

I contemplated not running the Gallieo - I was feeling slow and treacly and I really didn't expect to be fast today; but I figured it would be a good opportunity to loosen up and get the body ready for Sunday.

So when we took off, I was surprised to feel quite light and to quickly leave behind the field on the first climb; I even had to slow-up as I was worried I was going too fast too. Apart from that I quickly found a smooth, easy rhythm and began to really enjoy just being out on my feet. As I got further into the run, I felt even better and the pace came – I just let it flow. By the end I was flying – taking in huge amounts of air and pushing hard on each step. All too soon I cross the line. 23’45”, 30” faster than my previous personal best.

It was an easy win. I was fortunate that Ian Mc wasn’t running – but that wasn’t what today was all about. It felt really great to bash my PB so soundly. It also gives me quite a target to beat next month!

Mc'd again!

2008-01-31T19:52:00.000Z

Today was the first Galileo race of the year at work - and with my form improving at the moment I knew I'd be in for a win.

When I saw Ian McDougal I knew my win would be quite a bit difficult. If you remember, it was Ian who broke my winning streak by giving me a drubbing in the last GATA, so I had a bone to pick.

It was a perfect day for running, cool and not raining. Sure, the 29mph wind was a little arduous, but that aside it was spot on. From the start the course climbs gently up a long hill. Up the hill I found a nice pace that was quick but would let me warm through properly. I surprised myself (and, I later discovered, Ian) when I found I was easily shadowing him up the hill, hardly straining my breathing.

About 3/4the way up the hill Ian was now warmed through and also getting annoyed with the upstart on his tail, so he upped the pace. It was cruel but effective; I just didn't have anything to answer his acceleration with. But that was fine, mindful of Cirencester on Sunday I was running my own race at a pace as fast as I could muster without compromising the weekend.

Soon we turned into the wind, and I found myself enjoying the strange torture of running into the wind. I made a point of not looking back but did have a niggling feeling that if I lost concentration I might get caught and lose 2nd. And keeping concentration was difficult; after my hard London riding yesterday my legs felt like lead and my joints like treacle.

As I drew into the finish I gradually ratcheted up the pace - not quite to "grunting like a hunted boar" levels, but definitely in the zone of “gulping air like a maniac”. It felt great!

Ssoon after I came in a young graduate came in – apparently he was trying to catch me but got lost in the last few hundred metres through the houses. I look forward to the rematch.

But my concerns right now are far simpler - I'm as hungry as a horse and dinner awaits.

Goodnight!

:-)

On the bike

2008-01-30T21:02:00.000Z

It's been a while since I've had a chance to get some good saddle time; what with all the running and being otherwise lazy. So today I had to head off to the DVLA in Wimbledon to apply to swap my SA drivers license for a UK one.

I opted to ride from Paddington to Wimbledon rather than use public transport because a) I love riding, especially in mad London and b) it would probably be quicker anyway.

Getting out of the inner city was just mad as usual, rows of stationary cars and the odd blind, wafting pedestrian. Approaching Putney it cleared out a lot and I was able to get into a nice rhythm - good given that the hill out of Putney is quite significant. With only one wrong turn (am I glad I popped back home on the way to fetch my A-to-Z!) to soon found myself flying down into Wimbledon.

The ride back was fun too, but the lack of miles in my legs was telling. The drag out of Wimbledon was easy, but I found it a bit of a struggle keeping pace into town; so much so that I managed to get a bit lost - once again, thank goodness for the A-to-Z!

All in all it was fun to be back in the saddle again other than just the monotonous commute. I'm quick but need some work - which is just fine. I'm still glad for the break from cycling I've had with some running, but as the days get longer a few more countryside loops beckon.

But back to today, or at least tomorrow - looking forward to the first Galileo of 2008 tomorrow - it should be a nice warm up for Ciren' this weekend!

:-)

Out of the frying pan ...

2008-01-28T20:45:00.001Z

Newbold Comyn, Leamington Spa, 26/1/2008

Until now, I hadn’t really taken my XC training very seriously. In fact, until now I could probably tally up the number of training miles on my fingers! So the lead up to this race was something different for me. I found myself out at lunchtime in driving rain, hail, more rain and a few moments of sleet. So to say that this raised my expectations of the possibilities of my own performance would be a fair statement.

The field was huge, but I was lucky to get a nice spot just a few rows back from the line. The starter shouted a whole bunch of instructions that no-one bar the front row could hear above the thick din of anticipation, but it didn’t matter.

The gun went off and we were all scurrying and jostling for position. The field started very quickly, probably encouraged by the very good surface underfoot as we rounded a sports field. Quickly I realised that I was being sucked into the crazy pace and so, given that this was 12k as opposed to the usual 8k of the Oxford league races, I decided that it was better to rather tap off and conserve than kill myself too early.

There is nothing worse than being passed; feeling that you’re dropping down the order faster than a lump of lead. In retrospect I’ve come to realise that it was largely a function of the sheer size of the field, and the high standard of the competition that a small drop of pace meant being passed by so many runners, but at the time it just felt awful. I just had to keep telling myself to race my own race and to keep it steady until the finish was “in sight” at which time I could notch up the pace and take some places back.

The course was very fast and mostly flat bar a steep climb up “Beacon Hill” and, thankfully after Culham, the conditions were generally quite good. There were some nice tricky bits around trees and hedges which rewarded the agility and preserving momentum, and there was a nice mud splash; I quickly realised that I could gain an easy 10m through there by simply not tapping off. Everyone I followed in there would slow down and ease into it, I just went in full taps, made a big splash and exited a nearly full pace. It wasn’t very graceful, I got covered in muck and once nearly saw me face first in the mud, but it did feel good to have this weapon in my arsenal.

The first two laps seemed to take forever, but the last lap went by in a flash. Towards the end of the 2nd, I could almost smell the finish and I turned up the pace. Soon I started catching some of those lost places which felt great. But I was still feeling oddly disappointed with my speed as I out-sprinted two runners squabbling amongst themselves on my way to the line with a metre to spare.

Spotted the results today and now I’m feeling pretty chuffed with it after all. 181 of 379, 51’59” (4’20”/km). A minute faster than my projected time based on my previous performances (The Lore of Running, Tim Noakes – what a book). Our front runners, who usually easily win races in the Oxford league came in at 37th and 55th. Our team, top on the Oxford league, came it 10th out of over 30. So with the benefitof hindsight, I realise that the competition in this race was pretty strong, and that I did well to get the result I did, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.

Next race is our club home event; it will be at Cirencester Park. Looking forward to it, the shorter distance should suit me well – I’m looking forward to a good result :-).

Leamington Saturday

2008-01-22T19:11:00.000Z

I'm bursting with excitement. Tasha has finally bagged an agent, and I'm feeling strong for Saturday at Leamington.

It's 12k, so longer than I'm used to - but I'm in much better form from actually bothering to train. Another bonus is that the venue is 2km from the train station, so the ride will be a nice loosening up.

Can't wait!

:-)

Missed Banbury ... but 2008 feels great

2008-01-03T22:28:00.000Z

2007 ended with a rather sad fizzle. I was sick as a dog with gastric fireworks on Christmas Day, took a few days to recover and after an exploratory ride at the end of the week I realised I was still too knocked down to realistically race the Banbury round of the Oxford Mail XC league.

But 2008 has felt completely different. I was glad to have taken care of myself and recovered from my illness properly; I've felt strong and fast on the bike all week - well the last two days anyway.

More motivation has come from having been asked to run for the club in the Midlands Championship on the 26th with the penultimate Oxford XC race the weekend after. The following month sees the last running race (for me) of the season (the Reading Half Marathon Corporate relay that we intend to win) and the start of the Criterium season with racing at Hillingdon.

2008 feels great.

Go big or go home

2007-12-09T21:32:00.000Z

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...

2007-12-03T20:19:00.000Z

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

2007-11-15T19:28:00.000Z

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

2007-11-13T21:51:00.000Z

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

2007-11-04T19:02:00.000Z

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!

2007-10-29T20:39:00.000Z

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! :-)

2007-10-26T20:34:00.000+01:00

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!

2007-10-21T18:42:00.000+01:00

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

2007-10-17T20:45:00.000+01:00

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!

2007-10-07T15:27:00.000+01:00

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 ! ! !

2007-09-28T22:11:00.000+01:00

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

2007-09-20T19:29:00.000+01:00

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