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.
Saturday, 9 May 2009
Sunday, 26 April 2009
It's in the head: Reading Spring Race 2009
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 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!
Thursday, 23 April 2009
I'm in!
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!
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Loose, limbered ... and still on the reserve list
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.
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.
Monday, 20 April 2009
Gaining in the shortlist race
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!
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!
Monday, 13 April 2009
"Reserve list"
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.
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.
Saturday, 7 March 2009
Silly Commuter Racing
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
