Creaking arms

Just returned from 2 days riding bits of the south downs way and meeting one of the most interesting people in the world - who is both the current 'South Downs Double' record holder AND the person being the most helpful in advising Rob on his attempt. He is fascinating. The whole experience has given me renewed vigour about cycling. The camp he comes from couldn't be more different to Rob's but the 2 of them are united in their basic love of bikes and beautiful places - and challenging themselves. And a friendship has been struck up which is wonderful.

At the end of the day it's about riding bikes - and things like the SDD just provide wonderful testament to human nature. We like competition and challenge and we have been attracted to the perfect wholeness of riding 200 miles in less than 24 hours. It is attainable but tricky - and the SDW is attainable for almost everyone! I loves it.

But as for me - my riding has collapsed into a weak heap. I am tired. The 12 hour race followed by a weekend of chasing friends up and down the Welsh mountains has left me lack lustre and washed out. My riding is rubbish. Rob said he's never seen me climb so slowly! And what's worse is that I've picked up an injury. My wrist/forearm on my right hand is extremely painful and CREAKS! I'm hoping nothing serious but clattering over rocky singletrack is out for a while!

Cake, shortbread and trails

Just got back from riding with Jenn Hopkins, Lorraine Staley and Nigel Foskett at Afan for the weekend. We had a really good time, riding Skyline, The Wall and Penhydd on Saturday and then, tired and sore, riding White's Level on Sunday. I have a memory of blue skies, smiles and lots of cake stops.

The riding wasn't slack though, and we had some testosterone battles to reach the top of some hills (me and Jenn that is!) and some rattling decents that left us grinning foolishly from ear to ear.

I am left with a wet tent to dry out (it rained on Sunday), tendonitis in my wrist (those blasted forks kept locking out) and a weird sun tan where the mud splatters stayed pasty-white and the rest of my arms turned golden brown!

Here are some pics. Note the large number of food shots!

flip flops

Just rode back from Frenchay to Portishead in full IronHorse Extreme team kit... and flip flops. What a numptie. I forgot my bike shoes and ended up having to look like a complete wannabe cycling my single speed in all the gear... no shoes. My feet are now filthy and raw between the toes and the soles of my flip flops are worn away!

But the legs felt good and I'm really looking forward to a weekend at Afan riding FOR FUN!!! And then it's back to proper training and getting my head around Mayhem which is my next race. Seems like a long way away but is only a few months.

Back to work...

Questions

A new life, new house, new start. But rather than feeling secure and settled, I have too many questions.

Like what's the point in racing around in circles in the dark, not really enjoying yourself? I won the Nightrider 12 hr, my first target race of the season. But I didn't enjoy it. I just kept thinking 'I don't want to do Mayhem' and 'What's the point?'

I train hard, I focus. But why? I miss out on riding with my friends, on seeing beautiful places, on laughter and solidarity and friendship. I miss out on a lot. And I sacrifice it so that I can be the best? But I'm never going to be the best. I'm not made that way. I am going to be 'above average' and that is going to be a struggle.

But is there a way I can enjoy training more AND do fairly well at the events. Or will I be constantly tormented by 'you could be better if you trained properly'.

Do I have to leave this world altogether to find happiness? I feel like someone is trying to squeeze me (a square peg) into a round hole. I just don't belong here. The life of me has been bashed out. The energy and enthusiasm. I am trying to be someone I'm not. And last night at the race I was the closest I have ever been to being that person. The competition may not have been up to Mayhem standards but I raced well. I rode hard and consistently and made few mistakes. I smashed the field and should have patted myself on the back and said 'there you are, it's all paying off'.

But no. I feel empty, pointless, like a fraud. The best bit of the race was talking to friends before and after. So what should I do?

Koalas, gorrillas, Matts and superheros

Right: Daley Thompson and Daisy Duke get it on



Am exhausted today. Just got back from 3 hours of off road (with a quick shimmy to Portishead half way through to check it's still there - we're moving there on Wednesday!) and am now trying to work but can hardly keep my eyes open.





We didn't have a hugely late night but it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was tired first... and then dressed up like Matt Carr and went to a fancy dress party, thinking it was clever to walk through Bristol in the rain in flip flops, shorts, a floppy mohican and a fake beard. As Rob would say 'my days!'





Next week is Nightrider, the first 'proper' race of my season so this week I need to sleep, sleep, sleep.





So when am I going to move house then? Erm...

Rob and I both as 'Matt Carr'

Perfection

I am at my desk. Tired stinging eyes. Mountains of washing surrounding me. Mountains of books to be read.

I shut my eyes and remember the perfectist of perfect weekends. Scottish singletrack, Lake District logs and climbs, berms and roots. Sunshine and snow. We had it all. No music on the road trip, just laughter and chatting and sleeping and weird ways of eating apples. And Mint Sauce jersies and babies and hugs and fruit loaf and sliced cheese and puffy fingers and broken chains and dusty trails.

Did I mention the snow?

Miles and Miles

I had a weird ride last night. 4hrs on the road bike. It started with me failing to get my ipod to work, then spending nearly an hour trying to get my tyre off the rim, blistering my finger and splitting my thumb nail in the process. The ride itself was perculiar. Time just seemed to stand still. I wasn't bored at all, in fact the opposite. It was just like the seconds were 3 seconds long in 'normal' time.

And although I was never lost - and in fact always knew exactly where I was on the road - I just didn't recognise anything. It was like being on holiday. The sunset was beautiful and the air was sort of story-book misty and I just pedalled along at a hell of a lick just wonding what gorgeous planet I had woken up in.

I seemed to go miles. I might work out how far it was because I seemed to go so fast and so far. It was amazing. I crawled up the hill back to Rob's house at 9pm feeling strange but happy. I saw a fire-fly just as I was getting off my bike - which made my evening.

Today I have a rest day and puncture-fixing and chain-fixing practice. Not sure what bike I'm going to do it on though...

Then it's packing for Scotland - 3 days of rinsing trails with my beloved. Heaven!

x

Winner

Came 1st out of 1 at the Midlands XC.





result.





Not "Result!" you understand. Just "result".

Thought for the day - "I have a long way to go."

Whiskers

Miaooowwwwwwwwwwww...

Lost

Anyone who knows me knows I have the worst sense of direction imaginable. But I'm not bad with a map. So what sense was there launching myself on a 4 hour ride across Exmoor with no map?

None.

I ended up in Barnstaple rather than Woolacombe and had the climb from hell to get back to where I should have been. The ride took 5 hrs in stead of 4. Pretty tough - all into a head wind.

My body was fine. I hate being lost so my heart sunk a bit but as soon as I knew Rob wasn't cross with me I felt ok. We had a great few hours in Woolacombe looking at the sea, bimbling around, eating pancakes (made by a real Dutchman didn't you know) and just generally being daft. It was great.

The few days to follow have been far from great but sometimes you have to be on the cusp of total disaster to realise how lucky you are. I do.

So in a few weeks Rob and I will be moving to our new house in Portishead, complete with garage, spare room, marina and beautiful garden views. And peace. And I will read and write and generally be completely geeky as well as a superfit athlete.

Can't wait.

Getting tougher

I have come to the conclusion that I don't actually know what it's supposed to feel like to be in physical discomfort. I mean really hard physical duress from intense training. I can go fairly hard for a long time but when I'm pushing any harder than 'up a hill where I can see the top' my body slams its fist on the table and says 'no, this will not do'.

So my 2 x 20 this week was far more successful than last week. Well I finished it for a start. But it was decidedly uncomfortable. My heart rate hovered around the high 150s and threatened to tip into the terrible 160s a few times, ending on 161. So generally pretty tough (made tougher by my paranoia that I WASN'T going to make it again).

But when Rob does it, his legs spin at 100 rpm, his muscles go taught and he cannot breathe, let alone blow his nose, grumpily whisper requests for more water or contemplate the work that needs doing on the bike. I can. So quite honestly I don't think I'm trying hard enough.

I need to get to the point where I accept and embrace the pain as part of the training, not worry that it's hurting too much. I actually felt better when Rob said 'it's too easy for you, you're supposed to be crying for your mother'.

So, Mum, I hope you're on standby because next up is 240 watts for 40 minutes. Bring... it... on...

Choose an identity

If you leave a comment on someone's blog (not that you lot'd know because I never get any comments) it asks you to 'choose an identity'.

This made me chuckle and spit pumpkin seeds all over the carpet.

:)

Learning Curve

Today I failed.

I have been doing turbo sessions to try and boost my muscular endurance. Yesterday I was feeling a bit icky so I didn't do my recovery ride. Today I felt a bit better so climbed on the bike and started but from the word go felt odd and it was far harder than it should have been based on last week's attempt.

So I got to the point where I couldn't turn the pedals and crawled off, ashamed. I had only done half.

Rob said he was disappointed. Not because I'd stopped but because I'd got on the bike in the first place. Your health is everything. Without it, no amount of training is going to make you faster.

So now I'm in bed, laptop on, well, lap. I'm doing some PhD work today and will chill for 48 hours before even going near the pedals again. And if I ain't right, I ain't bikin'!

So have I learnt my lesson? Well I want to be a pro so I need to act like one. I'm eating right, dressing right and I've got to treat my body right.

Here endeth the lesson.

Derbyshire

Rach, John, Isobel and Harriet.

I had the most stunning ride in Derbyshire last weekend. I stayed with my friends Rach and John on the way home from working in Stockport and took myself off for a 4 hour 'fun' ride from their home in Belper. It was blustery but dry and I creeped higher and higher up the map towards the High Peak, eventually ending up in Heathersage after 2.5 hours.

I only had to return to Cromford not Belper, so I thought I'd have enough time, and my planning was perfect as I rolled into the Wharf at Cromford after 4hrs and 2 minutes! I had lost my map earlier whilst blowing down a steep hill so had to find the last bit of my route by memory. It was fine. My heart rate looked like a mountain range when I downloaded it!

I am very fond of Derbyshire and in the future would like to move up there. It would be so great to be near Rach and John. They are amazing friends and have a lovely family. Isobel was learning to ride her bike and John had her doing figure of eights in the carpark in Cromford! She only fell of half a dozen times but was full of smiles afterwards! Harriet isn't quit there yet (being only 8 months) but we'll have her signed up for her first triathlon in no time.

Harriet and I bonding. 'She won't be sick, honest...'

Let the pain begin

I can't believe that the endless slow miles are over. Now the real pain begins. This is what you dream about - when you see Rocky and it's all high impact, sweat-soaked intense workouts with a big grin, all set to music. That's what you think training is. And that's what it's going to be for me right now. But no music and lots of teeth-gritting.

I started with a ten mile time trial on the turbo trainer which was really painful but enjoyable in a strange sadistic kind of a way. I really knew I'd done it the next day. I need to be clever about nutrition going in to this next phase. But we have that covered too.

The next phase is about building muscular endurance. My legs are so far behind my cardiovascular endurance now it's not funny. They need whipping into shape.

And I'm working hard at getting paid work. One more week of paid work then a I have a meeting with my PhD supervisor and it's nose to the academic grindstone once again. All very structured.

At the moment I am liking life a lot.

Fact

PS The knee is ok. Bit tender at times but last night was the first time it didn't wake me up when I stretched out my legs mid-snooze so that has to be a good sign. I'm off for a recovery spin while there's still daylight in the sky.

Ouch!

What a total and utter balls up. Not only did I fall off my bike on the stickiest, mud (well it wasn't all mud if you get my meaning) but I actually did the wrong session today. I was supposed to be mountain biking and road riding tomorrow. What a numptie. So now I have a bloody leg (see below), stiff knees, a filthy bike and I have to go and pick up my mountain bike from Rob's so I can do the session tomorrow.

Such is life.

Gower weekend

This past weekend Rob and I went riding our road bikes round the Gower Peninsula. It was beautiful weather and despite a little bit too much traffic for our liking, we had a great time. A four hour ride on Saturday basically enabled us to 'bag' the Gower completely and we got to know our way around pretty well.

A few highlights:

Sheep on the road - it is Wales!Daft moment!

Totally in control...

One of the many stunning views.

Early morning rides

I have been training at the crack of dawn recently. Getting up in the dark and riding out just as the dawn breaks is totally magical. Then you creep home through the queues of traffic, refreshed and ready to grab the day with both hands.

I pity people who don't ride bikes.

Poppit Sands

I have just got back from 2 days away at Poppit Sands near Cardigan Bay. You drive down the M4 until it runs out, get on the A road until that runs out, then keep going on roads with grass down the middle until they run out and you get there. The YHA overlooks the sea and the weather was absolutely perfect - summery in fact. We had a working 'team building' away days and on Tuesday afternoon when the hoards had piled back into their minibus for the 6 hour trip back to London a friend Ewen and I went for a long bike ride around the local lanes.

It was stunnerama.

The views were sensational and it felt like mid summer it was so hot. We were out for nearly 4 hours but kept stopping to chat to people and take pictures. Bessie Davies was my personal favourite - a perfectly round woman sat on a bench outside her pub with her bloomers drying on the line for all to see.

Today I have to finish my assignment - better get on!

Singlespeed

So I rode for 3hrs 40ish on Sunday morning through the wind and dodging showers with Rob. I rode my brand new-to-me singlespeed cross bike. It will be my tool for bringing on the oomph and bringing on the force (May it be with me). Tomorrow I am using it to do some hill power sessions. Hopefully Rob can sort me out with some aggressive American rock to get me going!

Now I'll let you into a little secret. Next time someone you overtake says 'it's alright for you, you've got gears', remember this - singlspeeding isn't actually any harder than gears. In fact, my heart rate was averagely lower over the course of the ride. There are the odd moment when your legs are twiddling helplessly because you're on the flat or down hill slightly and you don't have the bite (and the odd hill where you wish you had a few extra lbs of muscle to push down) but on the whole there was not much difference. My heart rate was smoother, my pedalling felt normal and overall it was actually less work, I think.

PS. The sheep. I forgot to mention the sheep. These 2 little lambs had us melting with cutitude. They were the sweetiest little things ever.