On Monday 3rd December, a very competent and competitive local cyclist , Christian Hill from Adalta Cycling Club, was hit by a taxi whilst cycling. He has suffered horrifying injuries due to the incident and is currently laying in a hospital bed looking at a long recovery period.

Christian is a very keen cyclist and has also done extremely well in duathlons, most recently finishing 1st in his category at the London Duathlon this September. But just over a week ago he was  cycling along a fairly innocuous shopping street in a coastal town of Kent when he was struck by a taxi emerging from a side road. Fortunately, Christian was wearing a helmet but very unfortunately x-rays, CT and MRI scans showed that the impact of the crash broke his back and his pelvis.

In the days that followed medical professionals were able to give Christian two routes of treatment for his injuries, one being spinal surgery which would mean he would never be able to ride or run competitively again, the other… he must lay flat on his back in a hospital bed for 6 weeks and then will need to be in a back brace for the following 3 months. Christian opted for the long haul so his body can heal naturally and he can eventually get back on the bike.

Friends of Christian from all of the local cycling clubs are joining together to raise money to make his stay in hospital just a little bit more bearable. The target of an iPad has been put forward and a donation site has been set up that we are contributing to. We all know how hard it is staying off the bike for a few days, never mind 5 months so anything we can do to help the time pass will be welcomed I’m sure.

As common as accidents like this are it’s even more terrible when it’s someone you know and can relate to the accident they had. I hope Christian makes a fast recovery and gets back to his winning ways. Competitive souls have a tendency to smash the competition when coming back from serious injury and I’m sure Christian will be no different. If you feel you want to contribute to the fund for an iPad to help Christian on his road to recovery then follow the link below (that’ll be there shortly!) and donate what ever you can. Until the link is active, if you wish to contribute to the fund, get in touch with myself or Darryl and we’ll assist. I hope this post and the Facebook appeals that have gone out from many in the local cycling community reach enough people so that just $1/£1 from everyone who reads this will get us to our goal.

Get well soon Christian from all at LovingTheBike.com

Stevie

Here is part 3 of Aaron Madrid’s ‘Century’ series. You can check out the first installment here and the second ‘training’ article here.  Today @AaronMadrid talks about ensuring you have everything ready before the big day and his experiences of his own first 100 mile event. 

Joining the Century Club – Part 3

Now your event is just a week away.  You’ve trained for a while and you are confident that you can do 100 miles.  It’s time to think about the details.  100 miles is not only hard on you, but it’s hard on your bike.  Make sure that your tires and tubes are good to go.  Personally I bought some new tires and tubes to make sure I didn’t have to worry about anything.  Check your chain to make sure it’s not stretched…there is a cheap tool you can use to do this or you can just take it to your local bike shop.  Lastly clean up your cranks and your cassette and apply some new lube to make sure that baby is smooth sailing.  If you are comfortable with it, make any needed adjustments to your derailleur.  I’m a decent enough mechanic to make small adjustments and repairs, but I went ahead and just had my local bike shop do a full tune up on my bike.  If you go the route of the bike shop make sure you give them a couple weeks to get it done just in case. Fortunately my bike shop is awesome and they did it all in just a weekend. I went out a few times before the big ride for some short 20 mile rides, but the day before the big event I stayed off the bike.

Naturally, as a child of the night, I found myself unable to sleep and decided to do a little bike tinkering before bed.  When I finally layed down to try to get some rest, my nerves kicked in.  What if I’m in a big group and someone wrecks?  What if I didn’t put those new tubes and tires on right and I blow a flat in the middle of a steep turn?  What if my chain explodes and cut’s someone next to me open?  What if I rip a hole in my bibs?  What if I just…can’t do it?

When I woke up…I was ready.  The fear was gone, replaced only with focus.  For breakfast I had an 8oz glass of juice, a 12oz iced coffee (Starbucks Vita ftw), and a banana with honey drizzled on top.

We loaded the cars and set off to conquer the day.  Over the couple years since I started riding I had managed to convince a few friends that also happen to work with me to join me in my hobby.  On this particular day 5 friends set out to join me on this quest for greatness, including the founders of the company I work for.  Only two of my friends planned on riding the full century with me, but it was pretty awesome to have all my friends next to me at the start.  Once we got to the event I grabbed a half a bagel and a little single serving peanut butter as well.  I didn’t want to over-eat, but I wanted to make sure I had plenty of calories to get me through the first leg.

THE Event

Our Tour de Cure event took place at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, home of the Indy 500.  We were to ride our 100 miles around the massive track.  This was great because it promised no hills, outside of the steep banked turns.  The plan was to stop no more than every 25 miles.  We didn’t want to just finish, we wanted to destroy.  We took the track shortly after the 500 or so riders were given the flag to start riding.  Unfortunately we were a little late for the gun, but not by much.

We rode one lap together as a team to warm up, and then the three of us aiming for the century headed up to the top of the track, where the faster riders were supposed to stay.  Then we kicked it up a notch.  For the past month the three of us had been practicing riding a pace line together on our training rides, and now our training paid off as we fell in to step together and began to mash.  We didn’t push too hard because we knew we had a long day in the saddle ahead of us.  Halfway around our second lap you could probably see the smiles on our faces from a mile away.  We were making good time at around 20 miles per hour and feeling strong.

Then we heard it…at first I thought it was then wind whistling through my ears, then it began to sound more like a swarm of locusts, and suddenly it changed to the thunder of a train as a line of probably 200 riders passed us on our left.  None of us had ever ridden with a group larger than 4 or 5, and this first pass nearly took my breath away.  We all reacted at the same time, as the end of the line came around we all three rose from the saddle and latched on to the big group.  If we weren’t smiling before, we certainly were now.  Shoulder to shoulder with our brothers, we accelerated to 25, gliding along with ease as the draft swallowed us whole.

I had read enough articles to know the majority of the do’s and don’ts of pack riding, but I never imagined what it would feel like to ride in a group like that day. You can feel the power and energy of the group as you ride together.  It is unlike anything I have ever experienced.  Unfortunately I didn’t realize that once you are in the group it becomes a little intimidating to think about dropping out.  At that point in time I felt like I could keep riding forever with that group, but as I looked around I noticed I had managed to drop my teammates.

As soon as I began to think about dropping out to look for my friends, the guy in front of me moved up and I had to accelerate to close the gap.  I rode up to fill the slot and just kept on mashing.  Before I knew it we had already ridden the first 25 miles and I decided to pull out to stop at once of the rest areas to meet up with my team as planned.  I grabbed a banana and filled my water bottles, one with water and one with Powerade (something I learned a little later would be critical).  The rest stops also were stocking Cliff Blocks, so I grabbed a couple packs of those and tossed them in my jersey pockets for later on.

My friends wheeled up still smiling and feeling strong.  They refueled and then we headed out to the track for the next 25 miles.  As we came back out to the track and took up our pace line once more, it didn’t take long before the big group was passing us again.  I couldn’t stop myself, as they passed me I had to accelerate to join them.  I mentioned in a previous post that I wanted to race in the near future, and this seemed to only solidify in my mind, just how much I wanted to.  I felt like I was riding the Tour de France with the pro peloton.

There is truly no feeling I have ever felt in my life that I could compare those moments with the group to.  It was exhilarating.  Now the group had stepped it up to an average of 30 miles per hour, and I was mashing pretty good to keep up.  I didn’t feel like I was exerting too much energy, but I was certainly having to work to keep it going.  The next 25 miles flew by even faster than the first.  I didn’t stay with the big group the entire time, because eventually they all pulled into a SAG before I was ready.  I pulled back and reformed the team.

One of the greatest moments of the day came after mile 50 when we had headed back to the route.  Our team was still feeling strong so we naturally hopped back into our pace line.  After a couple laps I glanced back to notice we had picked up some other riders.  Our line was now probably around 30 people long and we were doing all the pulling.  It feels amazing to be a part of one of those groups, but it is something all together different to be on the front and realize you are pulling all those riders along.

Unfortunately, around mile 60 the wind began to pick up half the track ended up dropping us right into a nasty headwind.  Our line began to dwindle as we continuously fought the headwind.  We were all clearly starting to tire.  Another note, by mile 65 I was really starting to grow tired of the gel blocks that were keeping me going.  Fortunately the SAGs were also stocking bananas, so I made sure to try to keep a good mix.

The final 25 miles was harder than the first 75 combined.  By then the big group had finished their century already and the track had begun to clear.  I managed to find a few other small lines still mashing hard to finish and took advantage of the group dynamic to ease my burden.  With 15 miles left my legs were beginning to really tire.  I had ridden 85-90 miles a couple times before, but never at a sustained effort like this.  My legs felt like they were on fire.  Standing in the saddle was barely possible, but I was driven on by pure determination.

I think it was at this point that I finally understood what “shut up legs” really meant.  It was all mental power from mile 90 on in.  Then on my last lap, disaster struck…I was on the back of the track in a straight away and my left hamstring locked.  It was the most painful cramp I have ever had in my life.  I had to stop pedaling…I couldn’t even un-clip to stretch my leg.

For a minute I thought I was going to just fall over…I felt true panic for about 1 solid minute.  I breathed deeply and reached down to try to massage the cramp out. The pain subsided just enough for me to pedal my way into the SAG stop.  I really didn’t want to have to stop, but at this point I didn’t feel I had a choice.

Since I began riding hard one of the most amazing things I discovered was the way that you can feel your body using the fuel you are giving it.  When you bonk, you know it’s coming because you feel physically empty right before it happens.  I wasn’t bonked…I still had plenty of energy and determination to carry me to the finish.  However, my body clearly was missing something.

As best I can tell, the heat had increased considerably for the last 25-30 miles of the ride and I think I had allowed myself to dehydrate just enough to cramp. My bottles were empty when I pulled in, but I had told myself I could still finish without another stop.  Obviously I was wrong. I gingerly hopped of the bike and hobbled up to the table.  I grabbed one more banana half and refilled my water bottle.  As soon as I took a few good drinks and ate the banana, I felt the pain subside and my hamstring release its death grip.  It’s an unbelievable feeling to feel your body work like that.  I walked back to my bike and headed back to finish the ride.

I raised my arms and let out a yell of triumph as I crossed the finish line.  I couldn’t believe what I had accomplished.  At that very moment I felt excited enough to try for another 100 miles right then.  Then my stomach growled and I realized that as much fun as that was, it wouldn’t be near as fun as the meal I was going to go have.  I rode back to the starting line to be greeted by my wife and my baby girl.  As if the moment could not have been any sweeter… I held my daughter in my arms and at that very moment felt like I could do anything.  My training and hard work had paid off.

A year and a half, 85 pounds, and a lot of miles later, I had done it.  The feelings I felt that day will be with me for the rest of my life.  Weather your goal is 20, 50, 100, or 200 miles, know that you can do it.  I hope my experiences will be a benefit for you as you plan your goals.

Thanks to Aaron for a set of great articles. Having done a few, a 100 mile event is a superb achievement and getting that first one under your belt just makes you want more!  Keep your eye’s peeled for more from Aaron here at LovingTheBike.com.

photo courtesy of Steephill.tv

The British and world media may have been talking about London 2012 non-stop for the past year but the men’s Olympic Road Race did not disappoint. I was lucky enough to be on the race-making Straw Belle Slope on Box Hill with my brother @SteamyWynndows and saw some fantastic racing as well as humongous crowds.

Having been to the Tour de France recently and knowing how well the French and ASO organise the event with military precision, I was slightly worried (read petrified) at how the British organisers and LOCOG would mess up the race organisation and logistics. The ASO have had years of experience at putting on their largest event and although we have a superb set up in this country for the Tour of Britain and the criterium series, The Halfords Tour Series, I had a sneaking suspicion that the Olympic powers-that-be may not have bothered to consult any of these event organisers for advice and just do what they thought was necessary. For once I will admit it… hold on to your hats people… I was wonderfully wrong. Enjoy that, you won’t be getting another admission like that!

The view up the hill with my flag in full flutter

Team GB and Tony Martin lead the way for the peloton

The race circuit was well thought out, but we already knew that. I dash out of London into the Surrey Hills and then 9 laps of an undulating course with Box Hill thrown in the mix in the middle. Let’s be truthful here, Box Hill is not difficult. I can climb it at not a bad rate but clearly not at Pro speed! It was never going to decimate the field (although a fair few ‘lesser’ cycling nations felt the pace and fell off the back on the hill repeats) but having 9 laps of it defined the race and meant that teams (or just Team GB) would have to chase. The race route also took in some large but picturesque towns heading back to London before finishing in front Buckingham Palace. Already I’ve heard a few non-cycling friends (yes I have them!) say how beautiful the Surrey hills area looked and I’m pleased we got to see more than just an inner London crit circuit.

A crash at the bottom of Box Hill on the 1st lap saw Fabain having to chase back on. It wouldn’t be his only crash of the day

Stuart O’Grady bossed the break and Timmy Duggan did what Timmy does best and sat at the front setting a good pace

The crowds were also unbelievable. At every point in the race the roads were 3 or 4 people deep and they were SCREAMING their heads off. Following the race David Millar said that he had trouble hearing his team mates talk to him even when they were only a few feet apart due to the noise of the crowd. I have no idea that the percentage of bikies to non bikies was in the crowd but it was probably close to 50/50 if not more in the favour of non bikies, which is incredible. [ED: Please be reminded if you do find this incredible...  it's not surprising as I just made it up].

The crowds on Box Hill, which was the only ticketed area of the race were huge too and I was pleasantly surprised with the organisation and fluidity with which the got so many of us into the venue… which was essentially various bits of grass in the middle of a wood… on a hill! Although the Olympic Volunteers were as useful as a chocolate tyre lever the British Navy had been brought in to assist with crowds and the running of the event and they were superb, as our military always is with things like this.

My only major gripe of the ‘venue’ side of it was that although there was secure cycle parking as part of our entrance ticket we had to cycle about 1/4 of a mile along a muddy track through the woods. With hundreds of people on road bikes doing this there was obviously a few mumblings and swear words but in all honesty there was nowhere else on the hill they could have done it and we all survived due to it being a baking hot day. I would not have wanted to use it for the women’s event the following day when we had Biblical rain!

Mark Cavendish, with Luis Leon Sanchez, never featured in a race that could have been so great for him

Everything about the race felt like a big, top-class event

The major plus point of going to Box Hill to watch the race was not only would you get to see the riders a maximum of 9 times at a decent pace if you were on the hill but at Donkey Green, an area at the very top of the hill in a clearing in the woods, they had set up the largest TV screen I have ever seen with arena concert style speakers. There would be no fear of missing the final sprint as thousands of people tried to cycle home or try to cram into the nearest pub to watch it.

We just strolled through the woods, sat on the grass and drank a beer. It was brilliant. There were thousands of people sitting watching the race, many of whom had never watched a bike race in their lives but seemed to thoroughly enjoy the excitement and the anticipation of a Mark Cavendish once-in-a-lifetime win. I was almost as excited to feel the reaction and buzz from all these fans as I was to see a Team GB win.

Vincenzo Nibali and Philippe Gilbert attacked out of the peloton to try to bridge the gap before heading back towards central London

Taylor Phinney spent a long time in the break and eventually took first loser in 4th

But there had been so much hype about Cavendish in the run up to the race that if you are not a bike fan and understand all the nuances of cycle racing, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a done deal. Even at the 20km it didn’t look like they were going to catch the break, the only real opportunity coming when Fabian Cancellara unceremoniously crashed into the barriers in Richmond Park after overcooking the corner and the break lulled briefly whilst the riders looked over their shoulders. Philippe Gilbert put the hammer down and refocused the riders minds very quickly and the peloton’s chance was gone.

A few hundred meters more of riders looking and watching to see if the fallen riders would get back on would have slowed the break enough for the peloton to gain on them, but alas, Team GB’s efforts at the front had been for nothing. Apart from help from the German team, most notably Tony Martin who withdrew before the race left Box Hill, Team GB worked on the front alone the whole day. With many nations putting a rider in a break that had been militarily organised by a hugely experienced and loony Australian Stuart O’Grady there put all of their eggs in the ‘chase the break down for a sprint’ basket. They know it would be hard. They had described it as Team GB versus the world and it definitely turned out that way.

I heard many non bikies asking why the other countries weren’t helping Team GB chase the break. It was too hot and I’d had too much beer to try to explain everything about cycling other than that riders don’t want to be in a bunch sprint with Mark Cavendish for obvious reasons and as with Team Sky, many teams would rather see the Team GB cycling team lose rather than try to win themselves. It’s a sad part of the sport currently but has only come about by the rider’s dominance of the sport.

You’d be forgiven for thinking it was a Team GB/Germany race

With the crowds, the terrain and the weather, Box Hill was the place to be

Some unintelligent journalists have already made noises about a rider who previously got caught for doping has now gone on to win a gold medal in the Olympics. I’m not sure what would have happened if Cav had won after being supported by one of the most open ex-dopers in the sport but that’s the fickle world of the media. I’ve always enjoyed watching Alexandr Vinokurov. He’s a gutsy rider who has style, grit and loves to attack. When he jumped after Uran it looked the perfect Vino move and I thoroughly enjoyed watching him win. I’ve already heard many cycling fans say the same thing and I believe within our sport he is a worthy winner despite his unclean past.

Marco Pinotti, Stuart O’Grady & Timmy Duggan coming through the feed station

It was a great day only spoilt slightly by the final result which was Mark Cavendish’s once in a lifetime chance to win Olympic gold in London. David Millar suggested it would be a different matter on Wednesday when Wiggo takes on the world on his own and with the withdrawal of Fabain Cancellara through injury in the road race and Cadel Evans for ‘fatigue’ it seems even more likely that Wiggins will take gold. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves yet…

Stevie

Photo courtesy of Steephill.tv

Today will see the start of stage 3 of the 2012 Tour de France and the first time the riders will have hit French soil in the race.  This years edition of the race was always going to have a different feel to it due to high-profile riders missing out on the race and the forthcoming Olympics playing on some of the riders minds, dictating their training more than the Tour, something that very rarely happens.  Just a few days in to what is a race of epic length and proportions have we learnt anything we didn’t already know when back in Liège?

Time Trialists

The prologue through Liège was a mere 6.4km and I’m sure some of you commute to your place of work or walk to the local shops that are further away than that but it takes a special kind of rider to excel at these sorts of distances. For professional bike riders who are used to being on their bikes for between 4 and 8 hours, a 7-8 minute blast through the streets is something akin to Haile Gebrselassie taking on the 100m sprint at the Olympics. Cadel Evans was reported to have been warming up on his TT bike for around 2hrs prior to rolling down the start ramp and if you saw the amount of sweat dripping off him moments before climbing off his warm up bike you would not dispute that.

Cancellara, Wiggins, Boassen Hagen were all names that were mentioned as hot picks for the prologue win and along with Tejay Van Garderen and a surprising Sylvain Chavanel they made up the top 5. Tony Martin took a new wheel after a puncture which instantly pushed him down the leader board. On a longer TT course he is the type of rider who has the talent and power to claw that time back, but not on a course which took them just over 7 minutes to complete. Cadel Evans also ‘struggled’ with the distance and although only losing 17 seconds to Fabian Cancellara who will not be competing for the GC in Paris, he is already 10 seconds off the pace of Bradley Wiggins. For a race with so much TT’ing and the big mountains in the distance, 10 seconds can make all the difference. The biggest surprise of the day was Philippe Gilbert coming in just 13 seconds down. Not a recognised TT specialist, his super cool TT helmet and the Belgian crowds spurred him to a great ride which I’m sure he hoped to better the following day as the race stayed in Belgium.

With a lot more time trialling to come Tony Martin will have a chance to show the rest who is boss and the longer distances will suit more of the riders overall. The total length of time trialling in this years Tour has been a topic for discussion running up to the event and it is likely it will be one of the biggest factors that determines the winner.

Sprinters

Simply speaking… we still know that Super Sagan and The Manx Missile are fast to a redonkulous level. Sagan showed he’s not just about fast-twitch muscles and realised Fab was the wheel to take as the race ran into Seraing. Due to not being the younger man he once was, Cancellara is unable to merely ride away from the rest as he has done so many times before and although Sagan apologised after the race for refusing to take his turn on the run in and give Cancellara the better position, that’s racing and Cancellara shouldn’t have put himself in that position. Boassen Hagen put in a huge effort to bridge the gap and I’m sure he wont be backward about coming forward in situations like that as Cavendish won’t be around long and he needs to make sure he has good legs to take the stage wins he deserves. Realistically the steep ramp up to the finish was always going to be too much for the out-and-out sprinters and other than the aforementioned Sagan and Eddy-B, the rest of the top 12 places were taken up by what would be considered Puncheurs.

The profile and run in of Stage 2 was more of a stereotypical sprint stage and defined what is brilliant about Mark Cavendish. He doesn’t have the sprint train he might like there due to a split in team support for Bradley Wiggins but he won’t let that hold him back. He has always been a sprinter happy to be 15-20 riders back into the last bend. Watch the way he moves in any sprint. He jumps from wheel to wheel, constantly accessing who will give him the best tow further along before ditching them for the next one. It takes immense skill and vision to ride like that.  It’s similar to how Robbie McEwen plied his trade but I can’t think of anyone else who rides like that in the current Pro peloton. The tactics Mark uses mean you can never count him out and just because you don’t see him at the front of the race, doesn’t mean he wont beat you to the line. The drag race between him and Greipel was a beautiful thing to watch and had me screaming at the TV.

Although he takes immense pride in wearing the World Champion’s jersey, I can’t see Cavendish wanting to go all the way to Paris; the London 2012 Olympics are just too important. It should open up the Points competition (as long as Sagan lets the others get a look in) and we should see him fast exciting sprinting… let’s just get the nervous first few days out-of-the-way first and keep everyone upright!

Oh… and please somebody tell Sagan how to celebrate a win properly rather than looking like he is throwing some drunken shapes at 3.30am in a bar!

Photo courtesy of Steephill.tv

GC riders

It’s still very early to be sticking your neck out about the GC as there is still so much that could happen. None of the favourites have done anything stupidly silly yet to harm their chances but I’m sure Evans will be disappointed with the loss of 10 seconds on the opening day. He knows better than anyone that can make the difference. For Wiggins, coming second and NOT wearing the Yellow leaders jersey for the first few days is a good thing and knowing how calculated Team Sky can be, I wouldn’t be surprised if they planned that. The Yellow jersey comes with its own pressures and realistically, as long as you can keep tabs on your rivals, there is no need for you to be wearing it now if you want to wear it in Paris. With so much TTing to come it’s going to be difficult for someone other than Wiggins or Evans to win this race in my opinion, but who knows!? It’s a long way to Paris.

miscellaneous

Since Liège we have all learned that Team Sky look freakin’ awful in yellow helmets. What is not yet known is just how stupid others will look. Sadly I doubt Euskatel-Euskadi will ever reach the dizzy heights of the leading team to see just how horrible a yellow skid lid looks with an orange and green kit but I think we can all imagine! I’ve no idea why the teams decided to agree to this. It’s not necessary to know where every member of the team leading the teams classification is at every moment of the race, and if it was… that’s what they are wearing team kit for… to make them recognisable.  I suspect it has something to do with ASO trying to raise the profile of the team classification as it is generally seen as the lowest classification (if you don’t include the Lantern Rouge!) in terms of importance, behind the Younger Rider competition.

Still on the subject of helmets… WTF is going on with the Giro Air Attack! Granted the other teams have some ugly looking versions of their helmets with the aero inserts but this is just plain ridiculous… no… it’s redonkulous again! Here’s Bram Tankink who’s had all the great work of having a cool name undone by wearing this Giro monstrosity! He looks like Bart Simpson! It has had such an effect on his Euro-coolness that he has committed a cardinal sin of wearing the arms of his glasses on the inside of the straps!?! What is Giro up to!

Photo courtesy of cyclingweekly.co.uk

We also know, for the nth year running that Phil and Paul are utter morons. Don’t disagree with me just because you are American and have grown up on them spouting nonsensical drivel about Mr Armstrong for years. Two men who should know more about cycling and the Tour than any others consistently make huge factual errors and commentating clangers the size of an artistic tractor in a field made out of giant matchboxes (*nudge* “Paul, I think they are hay bales…”). They make me mad enough not to watch sometimes so if you want to defend them you best come ready with a damn good argument because I will be documenting their shenanigans this month and it wont be pretty!  If you want proper English language commentary, find a feed for Eurosport and listen to David Harman and Carlton Kirby.

Finally, spare a thought for Didi the Devil who is not at this years Tour de France but will be watching from a hospital bed. No he’s not having his ankle springs re-coiled, it’s actually some nasty sounding brain surgery… So get better soon Didi… the slopes of the Alps won’t be the same without you!

Photo courtesy of http://www.pbkblog.com

Stevie

As I’ve said before, I’m a cycle race fan.  Whether it be pro or local amateur racing, I like watching/reading/learning and would say a great deal of my love of cycling has come from watching professional racing and I try to imitate a lot of that in my training, style and biking ‘image’.  You will almost never see me wearing anything other than team kit (replica or club), matching jersey and bibs is a must 99% of the time (unless you have a classic jersey worthy of the black shorts) and that is definitely a reflection on the culture of watching the ProTour teams on TV.  But I am well aware that some cyclists have absolutely no interest in racing and I often shy away from some of the more specialist topics that I’d like to cover here on LovingTheBike.

Guinea Pigs

The start of the 2012 Giro d’Italia is only a few days away (it begins on Saturday) and I’d like to try a very unscientific study of cyclists watching professional cycle racing for the first time.  Do you love cycling?  Do you ride daily and think about bike before car?  Do you have little to no interest in professional cycling? GREAT! I want to hear from you!

During the Giro d’Italia there will be a plethora of information, articles, videos and live feeds to keep you in touch with every second of the race as well as pre and post race activities.  The internet provides coverage like never before and I’m very interested in seeing how fans of cycling as a pastime, can relate to cycling as a sport.  If you think you fit into the mold of my ideal guinea pig please leave a comment below and I will be in touch.  I want someone who is willing to allow themselves to be immersed in Giro’ness and report back on their experiences.  I don’t need you to watch every live minute of the race, but take some time every day to watch footage of the race (live or highlights), read articles etc and see how it feels.  Is the pastime of cycling so different from the sport of cycling that they can be exclusive!?

Loving The Giro

Darryl and I will be covering the Giro from lots of different angles over the next month on here and over at The Roar and there will be a special ‘Grand Tour 101′ coming up in the week looking ahead to this year’s Giro d’Italia.  I did a similar thing last year before the 2011 Tour de France which you can read here, here and here.

Hit us up with your comments if you want to be our guinea pig… it’s going to be a fun and pink May!

Stevie

As some of you may be aware I took part in a bike race on Sunday… my first race in 26 years! I’ve been cycling for a few years now and I’m a terribly competitive little so-and-so, which made me realise I was ready to step my cycling up a level. This week’s post is part race summary, part lessons learned. (Unfortunately as this post goes live the photos from the event have not yet been uploaded by the official photographer but I will update it with some as soon as I can).

Semi-professional dreamer

As a serving officer in Kent Police there are many benefits that are afforded me; unadulterated respect from the public, a sense of being able to change society for the better and being able to compete in sport at a high level whilst being supported by my employer. For those of you that have been keeping up to date with the news in London and the riots, you may realise that only one of the above benefits ACTUALLY exist… and happily for me it’s the last one! Many of the riders that I regularly ride with are also police officers or fire fighters and during a ride a couple of months ago the British Emergency Services National Championships was mentioned and all talk surrounded who was going to compete and what pre-race excuses friends would come up with to preempt their dismal performance. As the weeks went on I thought more about the race and decided that it would be a good way to kick start myself into an end of summer training plan with the intention of moving this good form into the winter for some proper pre-season training… and then 2012 would be my oyster!

I had already planned to be racing a little by this time this year but due to a fairly lazy 2010/2011 winter I’ve spent most of the spring and summer battling with my bizarre work schedule to get the legs I need to compete in local crit races, which can be up to 3 times a week in this area. The literately astute reader may have spotted that I’ve already identified myself as being both ‘competitive’ and ‘lazy’ which is a serious problem when it comes to any sport. If @bikerly had his way I think my personal Venn diagram would look something like this…

Other than the excitement of an actual race, the Emergency Services Nationals also had the added benefit of allowing me to get a paid days leave from work whilst the rest of my team were slogging away on the streets of Kent and it was also possible for me to compete with a ‘day licence’ meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get a British Cycling race licence in time. Good things all round!

Race (pain) day

So the day of the race arrived and I had everything in place; kit had been checked and double checked, tubes pumped to desired pressure, my chainset degreased and lovingly re-lubed and everything carefully packed into my car ready for the hour long journey to the south of the county to the race HQ. This journey was given some added ‘spice’ when I realised my car had a flat tyre. Not my bike… my freaking car! It had a slight poetic justice to it but I calmly (yeah right!) asked my fiance to drop me off there and I would make my way home with a friend who was also going to the race. On the journey to the race I was preoccupied and kept thinking that the setback with my car would haunt me and keep me from reaching my potential. In reality that was the least of my worries and once I got there and calmed down a little it never crossed my mind again.

Kent Police were hosting the event this year and although we had one of the largest teams, we had been cobbled together within a few weeks and the majority of the 12 strong team were mountain bike riders who had never ridden a road race. (ED: That last sentence sounded derogatory towards mountain bikers and that I may know everything there is to know about cycle racing… sorry… it wasn’t meant to! I have nothing against the more muddy cousins of road racers, but although they clearly had the physicality and strength for the ride, their lack of knowledge of road race tactics negated the advantage we had with our numbers.) The race consisted of around 60 riders in all and there was roughly a 50/50 split between police officers and fire fighters. Strangely there were no Paramedics/Ambulance Technicians on the start sheet but most were Cat 3/4 riders of a decent standard with a few Cat 2′s and some who had cheekily left their classification off of the start sheet (these seemed to be the Cat 1/E riders!). I met up with the rest of the Kent Police team outside the race HQ and shook hands and made pleasantries as I had never met any of them before. This was the first point in the day where I felt like I was an outsider which was rather disconcerting. Up until then I had prided myself on finding my race legs running up to the event and was excited to be able to call myself a ‘racer’… but the handshakes and inane non-cycling chatter from my ‘teammates’ just minutes before the race made me feel like I was the only one who may be taking this seriously which was rather upsetting.

This leads me on to the main lesson I learnt that day… listen to yourself and your own body! I know from training rides that I need roughly 10-15km of steady warm up to really feel comfortable when at a decent race pace. Whilst waiting outside the race HQ doing the namby-pamby meet and greet I kept thinking to myself “I want to go and have a spin round the course and find my legs…” but I didn’t. I stayed there, ignoring my normally individualistic and independent brain in exchange for a feeling of being part of something larger that I knew deep down was no good for me. That was the most disappointing part of my whole day and I’ll make sure I never let others dictate any preparation I want to do in the future.

Getting back to the race, we headed out after the commissaire warned us of the damp, dangerous sections that had claimed no less than 6 crashes during the race earlier in the day and rode a frantic pace through the neutralised zone. As already described I have no personal race experience but the lead car really seemed to gun it out of the HQ and it caused some erratic riding until the flag dropped. We completed the ride along the route towards the start/finish line at just over 40km which was a bit of a shock for the neutralised section but I’d expected that sort of pace so kept my spot near the front to try and keep out of trouble on what was a rolling course with not only some very dangerous pot-holes but also some long descents under dappled tree canopies which were not for the faint-hearted.

Withing metres of lap 1, 3 guys went off the front, two of them managing to stay away for the full race distance and displaying some serious racing pedigree. I lasted another 2 laps with the main group before the seemingly dangerous descent/my level of bike handling/lack of race pace meant I slipped off the back and struggled to keep the pack in sight. I soon began to work well with a rider from another team, riding a two-up for about another lap and a half before he slipped back from me on one of the short, sharp, punchy climbs and I was left on my own. I knew from the riders that had been left in the bunch that there were quite a few of my fellow ‘team’ riders behind me but none were in sight so I plowed on. Riders came and went, some falling off of the pack which was now roughly 4-5km up the road and others finding a little extra to gain on me, work for a bit… and then bugger off into the distance. Very early on after getting dropped from the main bunch I developed a painful cramping in my lower back (an old injury from playing cricket) which hampered me on the climbs but was manageable. I continued on, concentrating on getting round and finishing the ride, all the while thinking about what I was going to say in this post (ED: You can tell from the length of this post I was chasing back on my own for quite a while!). And then something struck me… something which removed all of the pain and suffering (mostly). I’d chosen this race as my first… my test ride… my way into what I hoped would be a minutely successful racing career. But I’d chosen a race populated by some of the most competitive people I know! If you know any police officers, fire fighters or any emergency services personal really, you may notice that there are some personality traits that are very common in our line of business; we strive to be the best at EVERYTHING, we don’t like being beaten by ANYONE especially not our mates, and we have jobs that allow and encourage us to stay at a high level of fitness. As I ran this through my head I began to realise it may not have been the best option for my inaugural competition. Add to that the race was a national event and it became clear I may have bitten off more than I could chew! But I didn’t give up at the thought I might not win… because I’m a fighter (dreamer) and I continued on until I got pulled a lap from the end so that I didn’t get in the way of the break and bunch sprint as they came through to the finish line. I was happy to carry on and finish my race distance but didn’t feel cheated at being pulled out early. I’d done my work and I’d not given up, battled through pain for 50km and learned some important lessons that will serve me well in the future… that for me, made it a successful first race.

One down… ? to go…

I really did enjoy my first race and although I came 39th, 2 laps down I’d cracked my first one and have got the hunger. I plan to keep up my training and compete in the winter series of crit races in the local area in an attempt to get some race experience and points on my new British Cycling race licence. You can check out my modest race numbers using the Garmin Connect link below.

I hope my tail and the lessons learned help you in the future, whether you race a bike or not. Remember, be true to yourself and what your body is telling you.

Emergency Services Nationals by steviedexter at Garmin Connect – Details

Stevie

“Every day is a school day”

ED: I’d like to say a special thank you to Heather Nielsen (@shitcyclistsays) who is a USAC Level 3 coach and a good friend. She helped me throughout my training and I will be using her advice and tips for a long time. Please check out her website at www.heathernielson.com for details of her coaching advice and personal packages.

We’re pleased to have guest poster, Daniela Ginta supplying today.  Daniela competed in her first ever duathlon this past weekend and as you’ll see in her fantastic description below…it was the experience of a lifetime.  Congratulations on your accomplishment, Daniela and thanks for today’s great post.

If you’ve been thinking of competing for the first time, you’ve got to check this out.

What a thrill! The race. My first duathlon! I always thought I am not really one of those people. They train in a special way, they do things a special way… well, you know what I mean. I really admired them, but always had a nagging oh-so-rational thought at the back of mind “What’s the point? It’s just too exhausting…”. That until a good friend tempted me with this one. So I signed up. And the day was today! I woke up in the morning feeling excited and a bit scared, and realized pretty soon that I did not need any caffeine for that extra morning boost. Big adrenaline rush was just about to flow freely through my veins. And it sure did!

The 5K run went as smooth as a first run of the day along some nice shady roads could go. My legs were not anticipating the pain I was about to put them through. Transition to biking was great, I never really had a problem with that during training. And I really looked forward to hopping on my bike too. The biking part was by far the most exciting: people on fast bikes flying around me, marshals directing traffic and yelling – some just traffic directions, others encouraging words too, and my oh my what a great impact those can have when uttered at the right moment, then my ride back to the transition area feeling exhausted but so happy to have done the 20K relatively fast and still feel my legs.
Why so happy, you ask? First of all, I am not riding one of those wow bikes. I have a good, solid, yet fast hybrid, which so far has served me well. So far. And second of all, riding uphill with the wind in my face was just not easy.
But, I have to say, seeing all the nice bikes was intimidating. And yes, it made me think down the road too – no pun intended. I love my bike just the same, even more after today, but I am dreaming of a nice racing bike too. In time for the next duathlon, I’m thinking…

The second transition to running was tough. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else – I’m quite sure they wished they did at that point. Maybe less so after the first kilometer or so, when endorphins did their part. I won’t lie to you. It was tough here and there. You know, the story about the muscles you didn’t know you had… it felt like that occasionally. But there I was, doing the very thing I wanted to do and my only thought was “I could do this”. Way in the distance I saw my boys and my husband cheering and looking all excited. That moment alone, with the adrenaline rush from the race, from seeing myself at the finish line and from my boys’ large smiles, I have to say, changed me. I did not care about the timing, the one big thought going through my mind was “I did it!”. One small event for the rest of the world, one big empowering step for me. The only caveat: I’m addicted now. And yes, I don’t think I’ll ever let go of my lucky green running jacket. Well, not for a while anyway…

Daniela Ginta has her own blog, Think of Clouds.  It’s not a cycling blog, but worth checking out.