Back to work. Back to being a parent. Back to responsibility. One of the very best things about these long Sportives is that they take you completely out of yourself. They can function like an extended and rather energetic kind of meditation.Everything in your 'other' life is forgotten for a few hours ... or for many hours as in the case of yesterday's event. But you inevitably have to return to reality - and today it had a bite.
No.2 son's ear infection has got a lot worse. I was hoping nature would take its course quickly enough, but he was in terrible pain today, screaming for a period of time that seemed interminable for the both of us. He was pleading with me to do something. It was awful. He's now on antibiotics and dosed up with paracetamol and a lot more comfortable.
It was a nice evening and I was planning to go out on the Harriers cycle run tonight, but I couldn't leave the poor fellow on his own. So, I made extra effort over dinner for him and we curled up on the sofa to watch Andy Murray delight us in a 5-set thriller at Wimbledon. It seems like years since I've sat down and watched a match so intently (other than the final perhaps). It brought back memories of my childhood when I was glued to the television for the whole fortnight. It's so easy to get wrapped up in the drama of it, and I've always believed that the scoring system in tennis is a work of genius. I have no idea about the history of it, but it's perfectly constructed to maximise the drama at every stage of the match. And you've never lost until the last point is played out, as Murray proved so clearly tonight, in the deepening gloom. It's such a mind game. Fantastic to watch.
It's been a hard day but it ended on a high note. Yesterday already seems like a long time ago.
Monday 30 June 2008
Sunday 29 June 2008
Mega Challenge
The day of the Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge started at the the ridiculously early time of 3.30am. With Cacophony sadly absent, El Cid drove Chills and myself down to Ruthin to arrive just after 6am with light drizzle falling - marking the end of my long run of perfect weather on events. There we met up with Knacker and Spectre, and also The Condor. The climbing started pretty much right way, the route going straight up Bwlch Pen Barras from Ruthin. This actually suited me better than a fast roll-out on the flat and I felt good on this first climb, having difficulty holding the reins, so to speak. At the summit of the pass we seemed to have lost El Cid and my guess (knowing his canny judgement of pace) was that he was just determined to take a steady start and conserve his energy for later. I felt that I should probably be opting for the same strategy but I was enjoying myself too much and felt that we had a good group together already. In the absence of El Cid at the front of the pelaton, The Condor was co-opted, in an unspoken kind of way, as surrogate team leader. The only problem with that was that he's a class apart from the rest of us, but what the hell. I decided to go with the flow!
Even in the intermittent drizzle the scenery was stunning. I've only visited this part of the country sporadically, and after each trip I pledge to visit more often because it is just so beautiful ... before somehow forgetting. I've now made the pledge again. Another long, more gradual climb out of Ruthin (again) and then the Horseshoe Pass towards Llangollen. I was feeling comfortable on the start of this climb but as my group picked up another group the pace seemed to increase just a notch and I decided to be conservative and hold back. I was thinking of El Cid, with his masterplan, ready to come steaming over the Bwlch-y-Groes with the rest of us twiddling away on dead legs. I felt like buying into that plan!
It was good to have some space and be able to look around at the incredible landscape rather than the back of someone's wheel. It was just so pretty. A small part of me wanted to stop and take it all in, but I already had sight of the road descending on the other side of the valley and a much bigger part of me was driven on by the prospect of those long sweeping bends. So, a very rapid and exhilarating descent into the Vale of Llangollen before taking the road out to World's End. This section was really lovely, a little back lane of a road, snaking its way up a hidden valley underneath the ancient Offa's Dyke. It somehow seemed out of time and World's End a remarkably appropriate name. I had been steadily overtaking small groups of riders and once the climb kicked in I felt myself going well, again having difficulty holding in the reins. Up on the top there was a great high moorland section with a following wind before a steep descent to the first feed station, where I met up with my group again.
Knowing the next section was a little intricate and without any big climbs, I got in and out quickly and rejoined the gang. This part of the course is a bit of blur in retrospect, pretty enough but without any significant landmarks. All I do remember is that it started raining at the top of the climb out of Rhosemor and that it was definitely rain rather than drizzle, and whereas before there were breaks in the cloud to suggest a shower, now the sky was uniformly grey. There was a sense that this might now be the order of the day. And, space-head that I am, I had forgotten my waterproof! Once again, I backed off the pace a bit and took the Moel Arthur climb on my own before soon rejoining the group at the second feed station. Although it was raining and everyone was wet, spirits were very high, possibly down to the wonderful fare on offer here. The pasta was a revelation, so combined with several cheese sandwiches and a slice of malt loaf, I had quite a feast. This kind of 'normal' food is just so much better than energy bars. And somehow I think the body knows what it needs.
Just before we left, El Cid arrived, claiming that he wasn't just taking it steadily, but that he couldn't keep up with us. I still wasn't sure. He was only 5 mins adrift after 60 miles and we'd had the advantage of riding together a lot of the way! Anyway, off into the rain, with a lot of water now on the road and loads of spray. Not that I actually found it particularly unpleasant, except perhaps for my hands going numb. It was a shame that the landscape was now hidden in mist, but I was still thoroughly enjoying this amazing sense of journey, joining together places, some that I've driven through on odd occasions, others, like Denbigh, that have only previously existed as names on a map. We were soon on the infamously billed "Road to Hell", over the moors to Cerrigydrudion, in the rain and into the wind. It should have been hell really, but it actually passed without too much pain. A lot of that might well be due to the good company I was keeping, The Condor, Chills and Spectre all doing more than their fair share at the front, along with a few other strong lads who had joined us. Feeling guilty, I did try to get to the front on one occasion, but I didn't last long before I got swept up. As the elder statesman of the party, perhaps it is my privilege to get towed around! But the pace must have been quite good because I think we dropped Knacker at this point, and he had been riding strongly up to here.
The section from Cerrigydrudion to Bala passed very quickly and in better weather. The clouds were breaking and the stunning landscape re-emerged from hiding, offering us a glimpse of the big mountains of Snowdonia to the west. We were soon at the third feedstation, the 90 mile point, and the time seemed to have passed very quickly. If this was a regular event we would be close to finishing, and I have to say that the legs felt better than they usually do at that stage. And it certainly didn't feel like I'd been conserving much energy. Just after leaving we met El Cid just coming in, so he was still just a matter of a few cheese sandwiches behind us on the road. Was he still being canny? Would we soon see him come flying past on one of the big descents?
Just after Bala, The Condor and his clubmate got a little impatient with the pace and upped the ante a bit more than I was prepared to go along with. I knew what was coming and was determined that I wasn't going to suffer any more than I had to. Not long after leaving behind the beautiful Bala Lake and beginning to climb again it was possible to glimpse the top of the Bwlch-y-Groes through the trees. I was tempted to point it out to the guys I was with, but thought better of it. I've found out before that not everyone shares my same sense of anticipation and enthusiasm for these big climbs! I found my groove, which was a little bit slower than that of those I'd been riding with, but I can honestly say that I enjoyed the climb, which gets more and more spectacular the higher you get. The view down south to Dinas Mawddwy was stunning, and seeing the road drop away so steeply that side I've really got to come back here to climb it the other way. I wasn't too sorry, though, to be turning left today, and back towards home. This next stretch provided the highlight of the day's riding for me: 3 miles or so of high moorland road, twisting and undulating with great visibility so that you didn't have to use the brakes and lose any speed. Being on my own here, I could take the natural racing line and it was amazing how quickly I caught back up with the group that left me on the climb. A steep final descent to the deeply wooded shores of Lake Vyrnwy, a short few moments of respite on the flat, and then back into climbing groove.
Once again, I found myself falling behind the rest of the group, which now only included Spectre from our original party. I wasn't really suffering, certainly not like I had the previous Saturday climbing up from Bradley; it was just that I had no power in the legs. I was feeling the fatigue and had no choice but to go at my own pace. In retrospect I always wonder if I could have gone quicker, pushed myself harder, because I seemed to be more comfortable, in terms of breathing at least, than those around me, but I think I was simply short on power. The muscles couldn't deliver any more. It was simple fatigue - but, again, not to the degree where I wasn't able to enjoy the climb. Another wonderful descent followed down Cwm Hirnant, and then to the final feed station, just before which Chills cruised past me leading a small group. He'd punctured in Bala and had clearly got fired up in an effort to rejoin Spectre and myself.
Aware of the weariness in the legs and with an eye to a Gold standard time, I didn't linger at the last feed and headed out before the other two. I got up the first of the 'Stingers' before they caught me up, and tried to hang on to their wheel for a while before deciding to return to my own natural pace. By now the cloud had broken up considerably, offering long spells of sunshine and spectacularly clear views. Having ridden the whole way in a short-sleeve summer shirt under a long-sleeve top, which had now dried off completely, I was tempted to remove a layer, but somehow I just didn't want to break the rhythm. I was looking at the computer and the watch, and began to think that a sub-10 hour time might be on, especially with a bit of a tailwind helping out. Up and over a particularly nasty sting in the tail of this ride and I could sense that I was catching up with a few of the group I had loosely been with since Bala. The top of this climb offered a great view to the hills ahead, which I suddenly recognised as the ridge that we had climbed over first thing in the morning. Even allowing for the amazing visibility, it looked a lot closer than the 10 miles away that it should have been according to the computer, which had only just ticked over 130 miles. And then there was this amazing sign on the road saying "5 miles to go and all downhill". I experienced a rather strange set of emotions when catching sight of that, which I can't really separate in time. I think they were felt simultaneously by two very different parts of me. One part felt cheated of 5 miles of riding and the adrenaline rush of chasing down the clock to sneak in under 10 hours. It was obvious now that I was going to do that quite comfortably. The other part of me felt a sense of relief and elation that the hard work was over and that I was going to get that Gold standard.
It was interesting to see standard times for this event adjusted for the age categories, but I have to admit that I didn't take them very seriously. My Gold target was actually 10.15, but it wouldn't have felt deserved if I hadn't broken 10 hours. Perhaps I just don't want to admit to getting older, but I want to be measured alongside my mates. It was a great feeling to descend into Ruthin at speed and ride the last mile with good form and not having felt a single twinge of cramp along the way. As something of a journey into the unknown I felt a very great sense of achievement in getting around in good style (in a time of 9:34:47) and with a smile on my face for most of the way. It was an awesome route, but it hadn't seemed anything like as hard as I was anticipating. I think that's simply down to conditioning. I've done the right training and a couple of long events now, so I had prepared well. That's what I really like about the cycling over the running. You put the work in and you get rewarded in direct proportion. It's a simple equation. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that when you run, where it's a much more complex equation to solve, with seemingly odd, imaginary variables to contend with!
I was pleased to find that I had lost only a couple of minutes to Chills and Spectre over the last section. The Condor had been in a while, but he had only taken 20 minutes out of me from Bala, much less than he usually does in the latter stages of an event. I had a strong suspicion that El Cid would sneak in just before the 10 hour mark so we went across to the finish line to see if he'd make it. With my watch indicating the final minute a rider appeared. It was Knacker. We told him to sprint for the line and I knew it would be tight ... which it was. He missed Gold by just 16 seconds! It would have been comfortable but for missing the feedstation at Bala and having to double back. Knacker told us that El Cid was ahead of him on the road so we thought that we must have missed him arrive, which would have been very poor form. As it turned out, he came in 5 minutes later, having ridden in and then out of Ruthin, missing the finish and doing an extra 4 miles ... possibly wanting to get in the full advertised 140 miles as opposed to the 136 miles that I clocked! It was a shame that we didn't all get our Gold standard times officially, but they'll know that they earned that mark, and that's all that counts really.
Finally, I must record my thanks to the legions of helpers and marshalls that gave up their time to make this event happen. Everyone was cheerful and wonderfully supportive and helped make this one of the very best days I've ever had on a bike. It's certainly one that I will never forget. Thanks also to those in my group for helping me get around in such a good time, plus all those anonymous riders whose wheel I pinched for a while here and there. I was the cheerful one on the Scott with straight bars. Cheers!
Even in the intermittent drizzle the scenery was stunning. I've only visited this part of the country sporadically, and after each trip I pledge to visit more often because it is just so beautiful ... before somehow forgetting. I've now made the pledge again. Another long, more gradual climb out of Ruthin (again) and then the Horseshoe Pass towards Llangollen. I was feeling comfortable on the start of this climb but as my group picked up another group the pace seemed to increase just a notch and I decided to be conservative and hold back. I was thinking of El Cid, with his masterplan, ready to come steaming over the Bwlch-y-Groes with the rest of us twiddling away on dead legs. I felt like buying into that plan!
It was good to have some space and be able to look around at the incredible landscape rather than the back of someone's wheel. It was just so pretty. A small part of me wanted to stop and take it all in, but I already had sight of the road descending on the other side of the valley and a much bigger part of me was driven on by the prospect of those long sweeping bends. So, a very rapid and exhilarating descent into the Vale of Llangollen before taking the road out to World's End. This section was really lovely, a little back lane of a road, snaking its way up a hidden valley underneath the ancient Offa's Dyke. It somehow seemed out of time and World's End a remarkably appropriate name. I had been steadily overtaking small groups of riders and once the climb kicked in I felt myself going well, again having difficulty holding in the reins. Up on the top there was a great high moorland section with a following wind before a steep descent to the first feed station, where I met up with my group again.
Knowing the next section was a little intricate and without any big climbs, I got in and out quickly and rejoined the gang. This part of the course is a bit of blur in retrospect, pretty enough but without any significant landmarks. All I do remember is that it started raining at the top of the climb out of Rhosemor and that it was definitely rain rather than drizzle, and whereas before there were breaks in the cloud to suggest a shower, now the sky was uniformly grey. There was a sense that this might now be the order of the day. And, space-head that I am, I had forgotten my waterproof! Once again, I backed off the pace a bit and took the Moel Arthur climb on my own before soon rejoining the group at the second feed station. Although it was raining and everyone was wet, spirits were very high, possibly down to the wonderful fare on offer here. The pasta was a revelation, so combined with several cheese sandwiches and a slice of malt loaf, I had quite a feast. This kind of 'normal' food is just so much better than energy bars. And somehow I think the body knows what it needs.
Just before we left, El Cid arrived, claiming that he wasn't just taking it steadily, but that he couldn't keep up with us. I still wasn't sure. He was only 5 mins adrift after 60 miles and we'd had the advantage of riding together a lot of the way! Anyway, off into the rain, with a lot of water now on the road and loads of spray. Not that I actually found it particularly unpleasant, except perhaps for my hands going numb. It was a shame that the landscape was now hidden in mist, but I was still thoroughly enjoying this amazing sense of journey, joining together places, some that I've driven through on odd occasions, others, like Denbigh, that have only previously existed as names on a map. We were soon on the infamously billed "Road to Hell", over the moors to Cerrigydrudion, in the rain and into the wind. It should have been hell really, but it actually passed without too much pain. A lot of that might well be due to the good company I was keeping, The Condor, Chills and Spectre all doing more than their fair share at the front, along with a few other strong lads who had joined us. Feeling guilty, I did try to get to the front on one occasion, but I didn't last long before I got swept up. As the elder statesman of the party, perhaps it is my privilege to get towed around! But the pace must have been quite good because I think we dropped Knacker at this point, and he had been riding strongly up to here.
The section from Cerrigydrudion to Bala passed very quickly and in better weather. The clouds were breaking and the stunning landscape re-emerged from hiding, offering us a glimpse of the big mountains of Snowdonia to the west. We were soon at the third feedstation, the 90 mile point, and the time seemed to have passed very quickly. If this was a regular event we would be close to finishing, and I have to say that the legs felt better than they usually do at that stage. And it certainly didn't feel like I'd been conserving much energy. Just after leaving we met El Cid just coming in, so he was still just a matter of a few cheese sandwiches behind us on the road. Was he still being canny? Would we soon see him come flying past on one of the big descents?
Just after Bala, The Condor and his clubmate got a little impatient with the pace and upped the ante a bit more than I was prepared to go along with. I knew what was coming and was determined that I wasn't going to suffer any more than I had to. Not long after leaving behind the beautiful Bala Lake and beginning to climb again it was possible to glimpse the top of the Bwlch-y-Groes through the trees. I was tempted to point it out to the guys I was with, but thought better of it. I've found out before that not everyone shares my same sense of anticipation and enthusiasm for these big climbs! I found my groove, which was a little bit slower than that of those I'd been riding with, but I can honestly say that I enjoyed the climb, which gets more and more spectacular the higher you get. The view down south to Dinas Mawddwy was stunning, and seeing the road drop away so steeply that side I've really got to come back here to climb it the other way. I wasn't too sorry, though, to be turning left today, and back towards home. This next stretch provided the highlight of the day's riding for me: 3 miles or so of high moorland road, twisting and undulating with great visibility so that you didn't have to use the brakes and lose any speed. Being on my own here, I could take the natural racing line and it was amazing how quickly I caught back up with the group that left me on the climb. A steep final descent to the deeply wooded shores of Lake Vyrnwy, a short few moments of respite on the flat, and then back into climbing groove.
Once again, I found myself falling behind the rest of the group, which now only included Spectre from our original party. I wasn't really suffering, certainly not like I had the previous Saturday climbing up from Bradley; it was just that I had no power in the legs. I was feeling the fatigue and had no choice but to go at my own pace. In retrospect I always wonder if I could have gone quicker, pushed myself harder, because I seemed to be more comfortable, in terms of breathing at least, than those around me, but I think I was simply short on power. The muscles couldn't deliver any more. It was simple fatigue - but, again, not to the degree where I wasn't able to enjoy the climb. Another wonderful descent followed down Cwm Hirnant, and then to the final feed station, just before which Chills cruised past me leading a small group. He'd punctured in Bala and had clearly got fired up in an effort to rejoin Spectre and myself.
Aware of the weariness in the legs and with an eye to a Gold standard time, I didn't linger at the last feed and headed out before the other two. I got up the first of the 'Stingers' before they caught me up, and tried to hang on to their wheel for a while before deciding to return to my own natural pace. By now the cloud had broken up considerably, offering long spells of sunshine and spectacularly clear views. Having ridden the whole way in a short-sleeve summer shirt under a long-sleeve top, which had now dried off completely, I was tempted to remove a layer, but somehow I just didn't want to break the rhythm. I was looking at the computer and the watch, and began to think that a sub-10 hour time might be on, especially with a bit of a tailwind helping out. Up and over a particularly nasty sting in the tail of this ride and I could sense that I was catching up with a few of the group I had loosely been with since Bala. The top of this climb offered a great view to the hills ahead, which I suddenly recognised as the ridge that we had climbed over first thing in the morning. Even allowing for the amazing visibility, it looked a lot closer than the 10 miles away that it should have been according to the computer, which had only just ticked over 130 miles. And then there was this amazing sign on the road saying "5 miles to go and all downhill". I experienced a rather strange set of emotions when catching sight of that, which I can't really separate in time. I think they were felt simultaneously by two very different parts of me. One part felt cheated of 5 miles of riding and the adrenaline rush of chasing down the clock to sneak in under 10 hours. It was obvious now that I was going to do that quite comfortably. The other part of me felt a sense of relief and elation that the hard work was over and that I was going to get that Gold standard.
It was interesting to see standard times for this event adjusted for the age categories, but I have to admit that I didn't take them very seriously. My Gold target was actually 10.15, but it wouldn't have felt deserved if I hadn't broken 10 hours. Perhaps I just don't want to admit to getting older, but I want to be measured alongside my mates. It was a great feeling to descend into Ruthin at speed and ride the last mile with good form and not having felt a single twinge of cramp along the way. As something of a journey into the unknown I felt a very great sense of achievement in getting around in good style (in a time of 9:34:47) and with a smile on my face for most of the way. It was an awesome route, but it hadn't seemed anything like as hard as I was anticipating. I think that's simply down to conditioning. I've done the right training and a couple of long events now, so I had prepared well. That's what I really like about the cycling over the running. You put the work in and you get rewarded in direct proportion. It's a simple equation. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that when you run, where it's a much more complex equation to solve, with seemingly odd, imaginary variables to contend with!
I was pleased to find that I had lost only a couple of minutes to Chills and Spectre over the last section. The Condor had been in a while, but he had only taken 20 minutes out of me from Bala, much less than he usually does in the latter stages of an event. I had a strong suspicion that El Cid would sneak in just before the 10 hour mark so we went across to the finish line to see if he'd make it. With my watch indicating the final minute a rider appeared. It was Knacker. We told him to sprint for the line and I knew it would be tight ... which it was. He missed Gold by just 16 seconds! It would have been comfortable but for missing the feedstation at Bala and having to double back. Knacker told us that El Cid was ahead of him on the road so we thought that we must have missed him arrive, which would have been very poor form. As it turned out, he came in 5 minutes later, having ridden in and then out of Ruthin, missing the finish and doing an extra 4 miles ... possibly wanting to get in the full advertised 140 miles as opposed to the 136 miles that I clocked! It was a shame that we didn't all get our Gold standard times officially, but they'll know that they earned that mark, and that's all that counts really.
Finally, I must record my thanks to the legions of helpers and marshalls that gave up their time to make this event happen. Everyone was cheerful and wonderfully supportive and helped make this one of the very best days I've ever had on a bike. It's certainly one that I will never forget. Thanks also to those in my group for helping me get around in such a good time, plus all those anonymous riders whose wheel I pinched for a while here and there. I was the cheerful one on the Scott with straight bars. Cheers!
Saturday 28 June 2008
Subdued
It's been an odd sort of day. No.2 son was off school yesterday with a bit of a cold and an ear infection and is still not feeling too bright. Yet again, we've had to abandon plans for a ride together, so we've just hung out in a very modern way, each of us on our laptops, me working (fixing still more bugs that I've just found), him playing on Football Manager, while casually watching the sport on TV, flipping between the cricket from Lords and the tennis from Wimbledon. With No.1 son on his adventure in Peru, and with No.2 son not quite his normal exuberant self, it's felt very quiet and subdued here.
Some of that is probably down to unwinding before tomorrow's epic and feeling a slight sense of trepidation. This Mega Challenge event of Dave Lloyd's is something of an unknown quantity and it looks like it might be quite windy and with the possibility of some heavy showers. Inevitably, there is going to be a bit more suffering on this than the last two Sportives I've done on my local roads. I'm really looking forward to it, though, and I would be devastated if something got in the way of me taking part. Knowing that it's going to be extremely punishing, it's hard to articulate why I'm so keen to do it. Much is to do with exploring an area I don't know very well. I got the maps out tonight to mark the route up and it takes in many classic climbs that I've long wanted to do. I still get a thrill out of translating those narrow yellow chevroned lines on the map into the reality of three-dimensional sweat and toil. Having plotted the route with a marker pen across three 1:50,000 maps I am now more daunted than ever. It seems to be a ridiculously long way, and includes a lot of big climbs. So why am I so keen to do this thing?
Good news received from Cacophony. He's back home without having to undergo surgery and already targeting the Pendle Pedal at the beginning of August. What a man! That turbo is going to get some serious hammer. We're all going to miss you tomorrow, especially me. I'm expecting to have to do more work on the front than I'm used to!
It needs to be mentioned that Cacophony was without his helmet yesterday, having apparently washed it in preparation for the DLMC. It was the first time he'd been on the bike without it in many years. Likewise when I rode the Lakeland Loop in April. I always wear my helmet. So, both of us ride helmetless on one occasion out of many hundreds, and we both suffer crashes. It seems to be wise not to tempt Fate!
Some of that is probably down to unwinding before tomorrow's epic and feeling a slight sense of trepidation. This Mega Challenge event of Dave Lloyd's is something of an unknown quantity and it looks like it might be quite windy and with the possibility of some heavy showers. Inevitably, there is going to be a bit more suffering on this than the last two Sportives I've done on my local roads. I'm really looking forward to it, though, and I would be devastated if something got in the way of me taking part. Knowing that it's going to be extremely punishing, it's hard to articulate why I'm so keen to do it. Much is to do with exploring an area I don't know very well. I got the maps out tonight to mark the route up and it takes in many classic climbs that I've long wanted to do. I still get a thrill out of translating those narrow yellow chevroned lines on the map into the reality of three-dimensional sweat and toil. Having plotted the route with a marker pen across three 1:50,000 maps I am now more daunted than ever. It seems to be a ridiculously long way, and includes a lot of big climbs. So why am I so keen to do this thing?
Good news received from Cacophony. He's back home without having to undergo surgery and already targeting the Pendle Pedal at the beginning of August. What a man! That turbo is going to get some serious hammer. We're all going to miss you tomorrow, especially me. I'm expecting to have to do more work on the front than I'm used to!
It needs to be mentioned that Cacophony was without his helmet yesterday, having apparently washed it in preparation for the DLMC. It was the first time he'd been on the bike without it in many years. Likewise when I rode the Lakeland Loop in April. I always wear my helmet. So, both of us ride helmetless on one occasion out of many hundreds, and we both suffer crashes. It seems to be wise not to tempt Fate!
Friday 27 June 2008
A sad day
This whole day has been overshadowed by the desperately sad news that Cacophony had a bad crash this morning. Out on the regular Earlybird run to Cavendish and back, on the road all of us here in Ilkley have ridden many hundreds of times, he had the terrible bad luck to choose his moment to round that one blind bend just as a car was doing the same in the opposite direction. I've always been aware of a risk there, especially in the summer when all the greenery obscures the limited visibility that you get in the winter, and you weigh up the odds and take what seems like the very slightest of chances. I know that I always feel a very tiny but palpable sense of relief when I'm through that bend without mishap.
There's no doubt that we all play this numbers game. The more miles you put in the more likely it is that you will have a prang. So, Fate decided that it was Cacophony's turn this morning. El Cid's description on the forum sounded horrendous, so I guess the big man could consider himself fortunate to get away with just a broken wrist. It could have been very much worse. He's some tough nut. And I know he'll be back soon with more determination than ever. I know the kind of resolve I had myself when I smashed my knee in a collision a few years back, completely determined to return fitter than ever. You can't keep a good man down. And they don't come any better than this guy. Get that turbo out Cacophony! Keep those legs spinning and go stick one on Fate!!
There's no doubt that we all play this numbers game. The more miles you put in the more likely it is that you will have a prang. So, Fate decided that it was Cacophony's turn this morning. El Cid's description on the forum sounded horrendous, so I guess the big man could consider himself fortunate to get away with just a broken wrist. It could have been very much worse. He's some tough nut. And I know he'll be back soon with more determination than ever. I know the kind of resolve I had myself when I smashed my knee in a collision a few years back, completely determined to return fitter than ever. You can't keep a good man down. And they don't come any better than this guy. Get that turbo out Cacophony! Keep those legs spinning and go stick one on Fate!!
Thursday 26 June 2008
Washout
Another long day of bug-fixing and I think I can say that I'm almost there, but I've felt really tired today. No.2 son and I were spoilt for choice tonight, but had decided earlier in the week to go for the Otley Town Centre Cycle Racing over the crucial Yorks v Leics 20-20 match at Headingley. The idea was to get a good ride in and arrive at Otley for the 7pm race where JH was going to be in the mix. That all went out the window as the rain set in during the afternoon. The cricket was abandoned without a ball being bowled. We never made it to the cycle racing. I couldn't work up any enthusiasm to ride out in the rain to watch, and nor could my lad. I also couldn't get my head around how dangerous that would be, riding at speed, wheel to wheel, in pouring rain. Scary!
So the day was a complete washout. The whole summer has been a damp squib so far - except for the days on which I've had long rides or events. I really hope my luck is going to hold a bit longer. The thought of doing the DLMC on a day like today is also scary!
So the day was a complete washout. The whole summer has been a damp squib so far - except for the days on which I've had long rides or events. I really hope my luck is going to hold a bit longer. The thought of doing the DLMC on a day like today is also scary!
Wednesday 25 June 2008
Nostalgia
Worked from home today with the intention of getting my head down to clear all the last remaining issues for a new release of my software. It seems to be taking forever to finish this off and I'm fed up with it. Come 5.30pm, working pretty much straight through, I was ready for a break so I joined No.2 son to watch the end of the 50 over game between England and New Zealand. The match was well poised so I thought I'd just relax and blob for a bit before heading out to Addingham on the bike to help DH with the Beamsley Beacon Fell Race - which I would ideally have been running tonight but for this injury.
Not long after we started watching there was an incident where the bowler (Sidebottom) effectively took the batsman out just after he had set off for a quick single, resulting in him (Elliott) having no chance to make his ground as the ball was lobbed to Pieterson at the stumps to complete the run out. Collingwood, as captain, should clearly have withdrawn the appeal and have the batsman reinstated, and the umpires seemed to give him the chance to do just that, but he failed to do so. I have a passion for competitive sport, but I like to think that I don't lose sight of the fact that it is the spirit of the competition that is the truly important thing, not the matter of winning at any cost. I frustrate No.1 son by not taking any great pleasure out of one-sided matches, whether it be England or his own team. Ignoring any possible wider context, in a one-off game, I've always said to him that I'd rather see his team lose narrowly in the last over than perform a demolition job on the opposition. If a game is too easy for one side, it almost becomes pointless as a contest. It's not much fun for anybody really. The drama of great sport comes out of having two closely matched people or teams. The greatest drama is when the balance keeps tilting one way and then the other. The best drama of all is when there is a last minute twist in the plot. And that is what I witnessed today. I found myself being drawn into the drama more and more, to the point where I it was impossible to leave my seat. I just couldn't miss seeing how this was going to unfold - despite my commitment to help with the race. Cricket can do this to me. It can become the most important thing in the world, indeed, almost the only thing in the world at that time.
Well, the match did indeed swing one way and then the other ... until finally it went down to the very last ball, with any result still possible. The tie was the favourite result in my eyes, but, in a split-second moment of choice, going for the outright win rather than settling to share the spoils, England gifted the game to New Zealand in a final second plot twist. I guess I would have preferred to see a tie, but I'm glad England didn't win. It wasn't so much that New Zealand deserved their win, but that England deserved to lose. At least Collingwood had the guts to apologise afterwards and admit that he had made the wrong decision. Better late than never.
All this is really by way of explanation for why I didn't appear at Addingham until after the race had started tonight. It's always been a low-key event and I knew David would cope, but I felt a little more guilty when he told me that there were almost 100 runners out on the fell. We usually struggle to get half that number. My favourite little local race was beginning to get popular. I was sent out to marshal on the road before the footbridge crossing, and I have to admit that it was with mixed feelings that I witnessed the runners come through. It was such a beautiful evening, after a rather miserable day, and it was a great sight to see so many people out, most of whom I knew. But I would dearly have loved to have been running myself. On the other hand, I also knew that I wouldn't have been competitive, and this was always a race in which I competed hard. The steady, even climb and fast descent always suited me (not to mention the small field!), and I had a wonderful run of 2nd, 1st, 2nd from 1993 to 1995. I'm very proud of having my name on the trophy alongside some of the local greats (even the legendary Tommy Sedgwick) and I will take any opportunity to tell people!!
So, after seeing everyone through, on the way back to the pub to do the presentation (which always seems to fall to me), I was feeling more than a little nostalgic for those Halcyon days which are never going to be enjoyed in quite the same way again, thinking about the leaders racing it out for the top places and actually finding it hard to believe that that was once me. Having kind of reinvented myself as a cyclist, it seems like a different lifetime.
Not long after we started watching there was an incident where the bowler (Sidebottom) effectively took the batsman out just after he had set off for a quick single, resulting in him (Elliott) having no chance to make his ground as the ball was lobbed to Pieterson at the stumps to complete the run out. Collingwood, as captain, should clearly have withdrawn the appeal and have the batsman reinstated, and the umpires seemed to give him the chance to do just that, but he failed to do so. I have a passion for competitive sport, but I like to think that I don't lose sight of the fact that it is the spirit of the competition that is the truly important thing, not the matter of winning at any cost. I frustrate No.1 son by not taking any great pleasure out of one-sided matches, whether it be England or his own team. Ignoring any possible wider context, in a one-off game, I've always said to him that I'd rather see his team lose narrowly in the last over than perform a demolition job on the opposition. If a game is too easy for one side, it almost becomes pointless as a contest. It's not much fun for anybody really. The drama of great sport comes out of having two closely matched people or teams. The greatest drama is when the balance keeps tilting one way and then the other. The best drama of all is when there is a last minute twist in the plot. And that is what I witnessed today. I found myself being drawn into the drama more and more, to the point where I it was impossible to leave my seat. I just couldn't miss seeing how this was going to unfold - despite my commitment to help with the race. Cricket can do this to me. It can become the most important thing in the world, indeed, almost the only thing in the world at that time.
Well, the match did indeed swing one way and then the other ... until finally it went down to the very last ball, with any result still possible. The tie was the favourite result in my eyes, but, in a split-second moment of choice, going for the outright win rather than settling to share the spoils, England gifted the game to New Zealand in a final second plot twist. I guess I would have preferred to see a tie, but I'm glad England didn't win. It wasn't so much that New Zealand deserved their win, but that England deserved to lose. At least Collingwood had the guts to apologise afterwards and admit that he had made the wrong decision. Better late than never.
All this is really by way of explanation for why I didn't appear at Addingham until after the race had started tonight. It's always been a low-key event and I knew David would cope, but I felt a little more guilty when he told me that there were almost 100 runners out on the fell. We usually struggle to get half that number. My favourite little local race was beginning to get popular. I was sent out to marshal on the road before the footbridge crossing, and I have to admit that it was with mixed feelings that I witnessed the runners come through. It was such a beautiful evening, after a rather miserable day, and it was a great sight to see so many people out, most of whom I knew. But I would dearly have loved to have been running myself. On the other hand, I also knew that I wouldn't have been competitive, and this was always a race in which I competed hard. The steady, even climb and fast descent always suited me (not to mention the small field!), and I had a wonderful run of 2nd, 1st, 2nd from 1993 to 1995. I'm very proud of having my name on the trophy alongside some of the local greats (even the legendary Tommy Sedgwick) and I will take any opportunity to tell people!!
So, after seeing everyone through, on the way back to the pub to do the presentation (which always seems to fall to me), I was feeling more than a little nostalgic for those Halcyon days which are never going to be enjoyed in quite the same way again, thinking about the leaders racing it out for the top places and actually finding it hard to believe that that was once me. Having kind of reinvented myself as a cyclist, it seems like a different lifetime.
Tuesday 24 June 2008
Summer Solstice Celebration
Today was the Earlybird's Summer Solstice Celebration Ride, an event now in its third year, and growing in popularity it seems, pulling all of nine enthusiastic souls (two more than last year) from their beds at first light to make the 4.30am start. It seemed like no time at all since I rode back into town last night from Nesfield and here I was heading out again. All the usual suspects were there, with the pace, as per tradition, set by El Cid and Cacophony. I have learnt that there are just three rules for this Celebration Ride:
Conversation was a little more muted than usual, possibly in reverence of this ancient ritual, but more likely due to the fact that most of us were barely awake. Indeed, there was a surreal quality to this ride. The time passed incredibly quickly and on returning to Ilkley it was almost as if it had been a dream. It was actually hard to believe that we'd been all the way to Kettlewell and back. Where did all that time go?
Got a good looking over from a new physio today, someone coming highly recommended. I thought it might be helpful to get a fresh perspective on this long-standing problem of mine. And it was basically good news. No structural imbalances to be concerned about. Nothing chronic as a cause. And the tightness didn't seem to be any worse in my bad leg than in my good leg. Looks like a bog-standard pull. Just one of those things. And I should make a fairly speedy recovery. The lesson I've learnt is that I should not race on tired legs, so, in future, I'm going to be determined not to get sucked into racing within three or four days of another event, no matter how favourite a race it is, and no matter how much I promise to myself that I will just take an easy run around the course. If I observe that, then I think there is a good chance that I could make it through a year without injury, which is something I've not achieved in a very long while.
- A brisk but not too brisk a pace, so we all ride together and still have time for a coffee afterwards, before we rush off to work.
- No goats
- Sacrificial virgins only by prior inspection and approval by the Committee.
Conversation was a little more muted than usual, possibly in reverence of this ancient ritual, but more likely due to the fact that most of us were barely awake. Indeed, there was a surreal quality to this ride. The time passed incredibly quickly and on returning to Ilkley it was almost as if it had been a dream. It was actually hard to believe that we'd been all the way to Kettlewell and back. Where did all that time go?
Got a good looking over from a new physio today, someone coming highly recommended. I thought it might be helpful to get a fresh perspective on this long-standing problem of mine. And it was basically good news. No structural imbalances to be concerned about. Nothing chronic as a cause. And the tightness didn't seem to be any worse in my bad leg than in my good leg. Looks like a bog-standard pull. Just one of those things. And I should make a fairly speedy recovery. The lesson I've learnt is that I should not race on tired legs, so, in future, I'm going to be determined not to get sucked into racing within three or four days of another event, no matter how favourite a race it is, and no matter how much I promise to myself that I will just take an easy run around the course. If I observe that, then I think there is a good chance that I could make it through a year without injury, which is something I've not achieved in a very long while.
Monday 23 June 2008
Absolute Perfection
It's simply amazing how these Monday nights continually attract such good weather. Out tonight on the Harrier's cycle run were MB, JF, NC, and JH with his Dad, coming along for the first time. I was hoping No.2 son would join us, but he got a better offer from one of his mates, and as he's still nursing this whopper of a bruise and slightly dented pride from last week, I decided to let him off the hook! The cloud had been breaking up all afternoon and by the time we set off at 6.45pm the sky was almost clear. And how clear! It was as if first the rain and then the wind had washed and blown every last trace of dust and pollution and vapour out of the air. It was stunningly, magically clear.
We went to Bolton Abbey, up past Hesketh Farm to Embsay and then back via Halton Heights. The views from there were awesome. Looking back, Pendle Hill seemed so close that at first I didn't recognise it. The pace was nice and steady, so a good recovery ride for me, although I did get a bit competitive with young JH at one point, who got rather frisky climbing out of Eastby and went up the first ramp too fast - so I couldn't resist pegging him back and scoring a point by taking him before the top! You have to show these young'uns their place occasionally - and I might not get too many more chances with this one. The boy is very strong.
So, a lovely 23 mile ride on the most perfect evening of the summer so far. It felt good to have ridden that with seemingly no effort at all. Tending to ride mostly with people who are stronger than me, it was comforting to be reminded that, despite the lingering memory of Saturday morning, I am actually quite fit right now!
We went to Bolton Abbey, up past Hesketh Farm to Embsay and then back via Halton Heights. The views from there were awesome. Looking back, Pendle Hill seemed so close that at first I didn't recognise it. The pace was nice and steady, so a good recovery ride for me, although I did get a bit competitive with young JH at one point, who got rather frisky climbing out of Eastby and went up the first ramp too fast - so I couldn't resist pegging him back and scoring a point by taking him before the top! You have to show these young'uns their place occasionally - and I might not get too many more chances with this one. The boy is very strong.
So, a lovely 23 mile ride on the most perfect evening of the summer so far. It felt good to have ridden that with seemingly no effort at all. Tending to ride mostly with people who are stronger than me, it was comforting to be reminded that, despite the lingering memory of Saturday morning, I am actually quite fit right now!
Sunday 22 June 2008
Crazy Weather
The forecasters have had it spot-on this weekend. They predicted almost to the minute when the rain would come through yesterday, and today's gales arrived on cue too. I've been feeling blessed again in being able to get in my two long rides before the rain and then the wind. It's been a bit hard on No.2 son, though, because we had planned a long ride today, and that just wasn't going to happen in these conditions. I've been very lucky to have caught ideal and often near perfect weather with every sportive I've ridden. I can't imagine how hard it would have been on the EduD or the WRC if we had caught today's weather. The sound of the wind whistling through my office here has been wild!
I did persuade No.2 son to get out and brave the gales for a short ride, planning to do the 'Three Hills', but in the end the wind was too much for him and we missed out Monastery Hill to do just the first two hills and about 6 miles. When you've been riding a bike forever you take a lot of the skills completely for granted. There is all that knowledge stored in the body that enables you to control the bike without any thought at all. I didn't think anything of being gusted about on the descents, but my lad found it quite difficult, hairy even. And I guess that's because he's still going through the process of absorbing those kind of handling skills. It was such a long time ago for me that it is difficult to imagine a time when I didn't have them.
I did persuade No.2 son to get out and brave the gales for a short ride, planning to do the 'Three Hills', but in the end the wind was too much for him and we missed out Monastery Hill to do just the first two hills and about 6 miles. When you've been riding a bike forever you take a lot of the skills completely for granted. There is all that knowledge stored in the body that enables you to control the bike without any thought at all. I didn't think anything of being gusted about on the descents, but my lad found it quite difficult, hairy even. And I guess that's because he's still going through the process of absorbing those kind of handling skills. It was such a long time ago for me that it is difficult to imagine a time when I didn't have them.
Saturday 21 June 2008
Bonked !
It required quite an act of will to get up early this morning to meet up with the Earlybirds, and I was greeted by a group of a good dozen riders. Considering the 7am start, with people no doubt having been up early and working hard all week, this is really rather impressive. So, it was a good social start to the ride, going out via Askwith to Otley, Farnley, and up Norwood Edge (that first climb in the WRC), at which point, having got widely spread out, we regrouped. We then split into two groups, those doing a longer ride and those doing the normal Saturday morning short ride. I have to admit that I was already stuggling to keep pace with the quicker lads and it was therefore a little disappointing to find that only four of us were up for the longer route, El Cid, Gizzajob and JR - so nobody to help ameliorate the pace. I knew then that I was going to have a tough ride. The good news, though, was that the calf actually felt much better than yesterday. Perhaps it just got really well stretched, removing some of the tightness, but I was very happy to know that I didn't do it any harm.
From the top of Norwood, a convoluted route to Greenhow, then Grassington, where the decision was made to head out to Arncliffe and over to Malham. I could easily have opted out at Arncliffe to loop back home down the valley, but I wasn't going to be allowed to get away with that! As the ride went on, I found myself struggling more and more on the climbs. There was just nothing in the legs. For a change, we took the eastern descent into Malham and then on to Gargrave, Broughton and Carleton before El Cid led us a merry tour back into Skipton, then out to Bradley. I have to point out that it was considerably merrier for the others than it was for me, for I had now seriously bonked - and there is undeniably a perverse pleasure in seeing someone suffer on the bike! The climb out of Bradley is a bit of a bitch at the best of times and I had to endure some serious pain up there, digging deeper than I've had to in a long while. I told the lads to go on and leave me to twiddle back, but the team ethic is so strong that they were having none of that. With the engine delivering no power at all, I was climbing at what felt like a snail's pace, and the lads came back down to pick me up and tow me across the tops to Cringles. By now the forecast rain had arrived but it was only drizzle. Still, it was really good to know that we were almost home. I haven't felt so happy to finish a ride in many a year. Thanks lads for looking after me so well. You were great. The Garmin gave me 73 miles in 4.38, and about 7,000 ft of climb.
Forgetting all the pain, without which I know there is no gain, the big plus is that the calf survived without a problem, and I've clocked up 145 miles within the space of 24 hours. The down side is that this is what I'm going to be doing next Sunday in just one ride. Odd that I'm looking forward to it so much!
PS The rain decided to set in for the rest of the day, so (very selfishly) it's been good to be able to work and watch the rain lash against the windows, knowing that, but for this calf injury, I'd be out in the wet and clag, flogging up Buckden Pike right now. Holding that thought, I'm finding it much easier to put a positive spin on the events of the last week.
From the top of Norwood, a convoluted route to Greenhow, then Grassington, where the decision was made to head out to Arncliffe and over to Malham. I could easily have opted out at Arncliffe to loop back home down the valley, but I wasn't going to be allowed to get away with that! As the ride went on, I found myself struggling more and more on the climbs. There was just nothing in the legs. For a change, we took the eastern descent into Malham and then on to Gargrave, Broughton and Carleton before El Cid led us a merry tour back into Skipton, then out to Bradley. I have to point out that it was considerably merrier for the others than it was for me, for I had now seriously bonked - and there is undeniably a perverse pleasure in seeing someone suffer on the bike! The climb out of Bradley is a bit of a bitch at the best of times and I had to endure some serious pain up there, digging deeper than I've had to in a long while. I told the lads to go on and leave me to twiddle back, but the team ethic is so strong that they were having none of that. With the engine delivering no power at all, I was climbing at what felt like a snail's pace, and the lads came back down to pick me up and tow me across the tops to Cringles. By now the forecast rain had arrived but it was only drizzle. Still, it was really good to know that we were almost home. I haven't felt so happy to finish a ride in many a year. Thanks lads for looking after me so well. You were great. The Garmin gave me 73 miles in 4.38, and about 7,000 ft of climb.
Forgetting all the pain, without which I know there is no gain, the big plus is that the calf survived without a problem, and I've clocked up 145 miles within the space of 24 hours. The down side is that this is what I'm going to be doing next Sunday in just one ride. Odd that I'm looking forward to it so much!
PS The rain decided to set in for the rest of the day, so (very selfishly) it's been good to be able to work and watch the rain lash against the windows, knowing that, but for this calf injury, I'd be out in the wet and clag, flogging up Buckden Pike right now. Holding that thought, I'm finding it much easier to put a positive spin on the events of the last week.
Friday 20 June 2008
Holme Moss
I thought I should accompany No.1 son to Manchester Airport. It seemed a bit harsh to just wave goodbye at the station in Ilkley! So, we got up early and arrived in very good time (for once) at the airport, all of two and a half hours before his flight departure. I'd brought my bike so I locked it up at the station with the idea of getting my boy checked-in quickly so I could cycle back home. I reckoned on a bit less than four hours so I should get home at lunchtime to still give me time to get a day's work in.
Well, things didn't quite go to plan! They never do, do they? First, there was an enormous queue at check-in and it was moving very, very slowly. I started observing people as they got to the desk. Lots of smiles and good humour, but the process simply took a long time. How hard can it be to allocate a seat and check the bags? We eventually reached the desk and I was still optimistic that it would be straightforward for us. It wasn't. For some reason there was a check against my lad's name, which meant that he couldn't be booked in. A phone call was required to the ticket desk. Engaged. Still engaged. Finally get through. The lovely woman at check-in reports a lot of tapping going on. More tapping at the keyboard. And more. The check-in woman quips that an essay is being written. We get the feeling she is used to being in this situation! Eventually the check is cleared and she books him on the flight to Atlanta. She comes to book his bags through to Lima and another problem arises. Something to do with a mismatch of names on the two flights. It seems that amidst all that essay writing someone misspelt his name. The whole process had to be repeated! Finally, the names for the two flights matching, the bags could finally be booked through. Except that the printer had now run out of paper! Almost two hours had passed in total and my lad's flight was now boarding! A hurried hug goodbye and I can only assume, as I write this, that he made his flight. I guess his adventure started a little earlier than expected.
But my day's adventure still had some panning out to do. I went to retrieve my bike, only to find an additional lock had been placed around it. The lock I had used was a rather token combination thing, but this was an altogether more serious affair with heavy chain and a huge padlock. What now? It transpired that my bike had been deemed a major security risk, the tubing apparently a possible hiding place for semtex - although how securing it so enthusiastically was going to help I cannot fathom a guess. Some joker told me that it could be released on payment of a £10 fine, but not for 24 hours! And I fell for that one - hook, line and sinker! The 'man with the key' was elusive for some time, before he eventually turned up with a smile on his face. I actually found it hard to begrudge them having some fun at my expense.
So, well over two hours later than expected, I started my ride home. I'd planned a route on the map on the way over, using some minor roads to get me across towards Hayfield, then mainly A roads after that because there wasn't the time to take any detours - although I did make one such excursion by mistake, missing a turn and not realising until I'd gone 3 miles out of my way. I really have to cure this stubborn resistance against looking at the map. That proved to be my only error though and I didn't need to look at the map again. From Hayfield it was over the hill to Glossop and then the B road to Woodhead, surprisingly quiet and very beautiful. The day had started overcast, but was clearing all the time, with the sun coming through more and more often now. Just a very short distance on the busy A628 to turn up towards Holme Moss. I'd been long looking forward to this big climb, up to 534m at the TV Mast, having known about it for years but never ridden it. I guess it's a sign of my fitness that I seemed to get to the top very quickly, steep at first but then just a long steady, continental style climb to the summit, very wild, with little traffic on the road.
From there it was back into more familiar territory for me, down into Holmfirth and Huddersfield, then the drag up and over to Brighouse and up and over again into Bradford, before the final climb on the moor road through Baildon to descend into Ilkley from the Cow and Calf. Although far from warm, even in the sun, it was now a really lovely day, cotton wool clouds peppering the deep blue sky. Even Bradford looked pretty! And, I have to say, that after seeing lots of wonderful scenery today, the very best view of all was that from the Cow and Calf down onto Ilkley and up the Wharfedale Valley. It looked at its superb best today.
This ride was a bit of a tester for me really. I wasn't entirely sure how the sore calf was going to respond, and, with many railway crossings, this route gave me lots of 'get out of jail' options in case of a disaster. Fortunately, they weren't needed, but the calf never felt right, and was quite achy on the climbs. I didn't push it too hard for that reason, and tended to stay in the saddle a lot more than usual. It doesn't feel too bad right now, but I guess I won't know for sure until tomorrow when I plan to join the Earlybirds. At least I found the space that I was craving.
Well, things didn't quite go to plan! They never do, do they? First, there was an enormous queue at check-in and it was moving very, very slowly. I started observing people as they got to the desk. Lots of smiles and good humour, but the process simply took a long time. How hard can it be to allocate a seat and check the bags? We eventually reached the desk and I was still optimistic that it would be straightforward for us. It wasn't. For some reason there was a check against my lad's name, which meant that he couldn't be booked in. A phone call was required to the ticket desk. Engaged. Still engaged. Finally get through. The lovely woman at check-in reports a lot of tapping going on. More tapping at the keyboard. And more. The check-in woman quips that an essay is being written. We get the feeling she is used to being in this situation! Eventually the check is cleared and she books him on the flight to Atlanta. She comes to book his bags through to Lima and another problem arises. Something to do with a mismatch of names on the two flights. It seems that amidst all that essay writing someone misspelt his name. The whole process had to be repeated! Finally, the names for the two flights matching, the bags could finally be booked through. Except that the printer had now run out of paper! Almost two hours had passed in total and my lad's flight was now boarding! A hurried hug goodbye and I can only assume, as I write this, that he made his flight. I guess his adventure started a little earlier than expected.
But my day's adventure still had some panning out to do. I went to retrieve my bike, only to find an additional lock had been placed around it. The lock I had used was a rather token combination thing, but this was an altogether more serious affair with heavy chain and a huge padlock. What now? It transpired that my bike had been deemed a major security risk, the tubing apparently a possible hiding place for semtex - although how securing it so enthusiastically was going to help I cannot fathom a guess. Some joker told me that it could be released on payment of a £10 fine, but not for 24 hours! And I fell for that one - hook, line and sinker! The 'man with the key' was elusive for some time, before he eventually turned up with a smile on his face. I actually found it hard to begrudge them having some fun at my expense.
So, well over two hours later than expected, I started my ride home. I'd planned a route on the map on the way over, using some minor roads to get me across towards Hayfield, then mainly A roads after that because there wasn't the time to take any detours - although I did make one such excursion by mistake, missing a turn and not realising until I'd gone 3 miles out of my way. I really have to cure this stubborn resistance against looking at the map. That proved to be my only error though and I didn't need to look at the map again. From Hayfield it was over the hill to Glossop and then the B road to Woodhead, surprisingly quiet and very beautiful. The day had started overcast, but was clearing all the time, with the sun coming through more and more often now. Just a very short distance on the busy A628 to turn up towards Holme Moss. I'd been long looking forward to this big climb, up to 534m at the TV Mast, having known about it for years but never ridden it. I guess it's a sign of my fitness that I seemed to get to the top very quickly, steep at first but then just a long steady, continental style climb to the summit, very wild, with little traffic on the road.
From there it was back into more familiar territory for me, down into Holmfirth and Huddersfield, then the drag up and over to Brighouse and up and over again into Bradford, before the final climb on the moor road through Baildon to descend into Ilkley from the Cow and Calf. Although far from warm, even in the sun, it was now a really lovely day, cotton wool clouds peppering the deep blue sky. Even Bradford looked pretty! And, I have to say, that after seeing lots of wonderful scenery today, the very best view of all was that from the Cow and Calf down onto Ilkley and up the Wharfedale Valley. It looked at its superb best today.
This ride was a bit of a tester for me really. I wasn't entirely sure how the sore calf was going to respond, and, with many railway crossings, this route gave me lots of 'get out of jail' options in case of a disaster. Fortunately, they weren't needed, but the calf never felt right, and was quite achy on the climbs. I didn't push it too hard for that reason, and tended to stay in the saddle a lot more than usual. It doesn't feel too bad right now, but I guess I won't know for sure until tomorrow when I plan to join the Earlybirds. At least I found the space that I was craving.
Thursday 19 June 2008
Space
It seems that the weeks are going by more and more quickly at the moment. I suppose it's a function of having so much on, so many things to think about, that there is no space for reflection and actually witness the time passing by. It just disappears. My running is what normally provides me with space in my life, and it works better than cycling because it is so much simpler. A pair of shorts and my running shoes, and I'm out the door, sometimes just for twenty minutes, but it gives me that bit of perspective that is so important. Without the running, I find it hard to get that vital long-range view, and that's how it's been today. I've felt closed in, kind of pressured, and, as a result, I've been struggling to work effectively.
No.1 son is flying out on his own to Peru tomorrow morning, so in between bouts of programming I've been helping him get organised. Not that he's actually needed much help. For being just 16 years old, I've been very proud of his self-sufficiency and quiet confidence. This prospect would have frightened the life out of me at his age, but he's taking it all in his stride. I think he's going to have a great adventure. And I've hatched a cunning plan to get some of that vital and much-needed space tomorrow!
No.1 son is flying out on his own to Peru tomorrow morning, so in between bouts of programming I've been helping him get organised. Not that he's actually needed much help. For being just 16 years old, I've been very proud of his self-sufficiency and quiet confidence. This prospect would have frightened the life out of me at his age, but he's taking it all in his stride. I think he's going to have a great adventure. And I've hatched a cunning plan to get some of that vital and much-needed space tomorrow!
Wednesday 18 June 2008
Negative Feedback
That tide metaphor has proved very apt today. I seem to have been toiling against the current all day, especially with work, getting snagged on rocks, generally making hard work of things. I'm at the stage where I'm fixing the little bugs, the less consequential ones which tend to be fiddly and hard to solve, and sometimes prove not to be bugs in my software, but bugs in the browser - as was the case with one issue today. I need to be on form for this kind of thing really, but I'm just not firing at the moment.
I've always believed that energy breeds energy, and the reverse seems to be true too. Not having had any proper exercise for three days now, I feel ridiculously tired and lacking in energy. I need to reverse the feedback loop. I had hoped that was going to happen tonight, intending to cycle out to watch No.1 son play at North Leeds, again, this time for the U17s, but the forecast was for rain, and the weather at 5pm was so miserable that I thought there was no way the game was going to get played and I ended up working instead. As it turned out, they did get a game in, but my lad had a bit of a shocker, out for a duck opening the batting. He's having a rough season, not getting much time at the crease, and when there, feeling too much pressure to make the most of it - and getting out as a result. He's kind of stuck in a negative feedback loop like me. Psychologically, cricket can be a truly brutal game. I guess he's learning some valuable life lessons this summer. I felt sick to the stomach when he came back to give me the story. It's his last game for three weeks because he's leaving to see his mum in Peru in a couple of days and I really wanted him to finish on a high. A lot of games have had to be rearranged this season for various reasons, and they all fall within the time he's going to be away, so he's missing even more cricket. He's putting on a brave face, but I know he's beating himself up hard over this. I so want to help, but there is nothing I can do. Perhaps this trip away is actually coming at a good time. He'll get some space. And that's what I need too.
I've always believed that energy breeds energy, and the reverse seems to be true too. Not having had any proper exercise for three days now, I feel ridiculously tired and lacking in energy. I need to reverse the feedback loop. I had hoped that was going to happen tonight, intending to cycle out to watch No.1 son play at North Leeds, again, this time for the U17s, but the forecast was for rain, and the weather at 5pm was so miserable that I thought there was no way the game was going to get played and I ended up working instead. As it turned out, they did get a game in, but my lad had a bit of a shocker, out for a duck opening the batting. He's having a rough season, not getting much time at the crease, and when there, feeling too much pressure to make the most of it - and getting out as a result. He's kind of stuck in a negative feedback loop like me. Psychologically, cricket can be a truly brutal game. I guess he's learning some valuable life lessons this summer. I felt sick to the stomach when he came back to give me the story. It's his last game for three weeks because he's leaving to see his mum in Peru in a couple of days and I really wanted him to finish on a high. A lot of games have had to be rearranged this season for various reasons, and they all fall within the time he's going to be away, so he's missing even more cricket. He's putting on a brave face, but I know he's beating himself up hard over this. I so want to help, but there is nothing I can do. Perhaps this trip away is actually coming at a good time. He'll get some space. And that's what I need too.
Tuesday 17 June 2008
Feeling Flat
I've felt very flat this evening. Another long day dealing with nitty-gritty issues at work, with little respite. I've hardly been for a training run in weeks, but today I was really craving a run on the moor. It truly is the case that you never appreciate what you've got 'til it's gone. We take our freedoms in life so very much for granted and it is only when you lose one of those freedoms that you recognise how precious it is. I experience this every time I pick up an injury, and every time I swear that I will never take my fitness for granted again. But I always do.
I'd hoped I might be able to get out for a ride tonight but logistics with the boys just didn't work out. It's not a bad thing, though, to have taken a complete rest today. A little bit of patience is probably needed at this juncture.
I'd hoped I might be able to get out for a ride tonight but logistics with the boys just didn't work out. It's not a bad thing, though, to have taken a complete rest today. A little bit of patience is probably needed at this juncture.
Monday 16 June 2008
Sulks and Grumps
I've been sulking a bit today, but not as much as I usually do when I pick up an injury. Part of that is down to the fact that, with the cycling, I now have two strings to my bow, so I still have one good leg, so to speak. But I think it's mostly because this injury has been caused by my own stupidity rather than circumstance. I can't curse Fate this time around! I usually get a little reclusive when I'm injured, which I think is because I just don't want to have to deal with people asking after me, but now, through this blessed blog, I really can't do that any more. I feel like I've made a commitment and it would seem rather bad form to give it up just because things aren't going so well. But I'm finding it's a lot more difficult to write about negative emotions than the positive ones that I usually feel. I don't like having to report that I've been impatient with things all day, and short with the kids. I've generally been a bit grumpy. Now there's honesty for you!
Things weren't helped on the Harriers cycle ride tonight, with MB, NT and JF along. I brought No.2 son for the ride and after looking strong on the hills, he unfortunately contrived to catch his back wheel on the barriers on the road to Cavendish and took a nasty fall, picking up a mother of a bruise to his thigh. We had to let the others go on and so limped back at our own pace. It always seems that once the current starts to turn against you, it soon becomes a veritable tide! So, we're both nursing injuries tonight, and I'm hoping his enthusiasm for the bike has not been dented in any serious way. I don't think so.
The calf is a little sore, and I'm aware of tightness, but I can walk on it without discomfort. I felt it on the bike, but only really on the hills. I'm not expecting it to give me too many problems. With the realisation that the Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge is only 12 days away, I certainly hope not.
Things weren't helped on the Harriers cycle ride tonight, with MB, NT and JF along. I brought No.2 son for the ride and after looking strong on the hills, he unfortunately contrived to catch his back wheel on the barriers on the road to Cavendish and took a nasty fall, picking up a mother of a bruise to his thigh. We had to let the others go on and so limped back at our own pace. It always seems that once the current starts to turn against you, it soon becomes a veritable tide! So, we're both nursing injuries tonight, and I'm hoping his enthusiasm for the bike has not been dented in any serious way. I don't think so.
The calf is a little sore, and I'm aware of tightness, but I can walk on it without discomfort. I felt it on the bike, but only really on the hills. I'm not expecting it to give me too many problems. With the realisation that the Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge is only 12 days away, I certainly hope not.
Sunday 15 June 2008
Just Stupid!
The plan was to run a 10K trail race this morning, and although the legs were tired from yesterday's mountain biking and I was still aware of this slight tightness in the calf, I was up for it. There was a certain momentum to things and, despite a nagging doubt that it possibly wasn't a good idea, I just rolled along with the flow. A beautiful morning, a pretty country park venue, a festive atmosphere. It was difficult not to get caught up with it all. I started the race steadily, but I suppose not that steadily because I didn't want M to get too far ahead of me, for I could see that she wasn't just going for first vet but first lady overall! I remember thinking that the calf felt fine and the legs not overly heavy and starting to plot a strategy of holding back on the first lap of the course, then trying to come through the field on the second ... when I started to feel a niggle. I went into some kind of denial for a hundred yards or so, because you so very much don't want to believe what you are feeling. But then reality kicked in hard and there was no choice but to accept the sobering fact that I had pulled something in the calf.
The first reaction is not so much about the longer term but the disappointment of not being able to race. The adrenalin had started to pump around the system and it had suddenly got nowhere to go. Then came the realisation that I'll be missing out on Buckden Pike next weekend, and then possibly a whole host of other summer evening races. How could I have been so stupid? I really started beating myself up. All the signs were there and I simply refused to heed them. But, then, over the last few years I have grown so accustomed to this calf tightness that I would barely have raced at all if I were to have been overly cautious. I've always found it hard to enter into the spirit of watching races when I can't race myself. There is this really strong feeling of being excluded. I limped back to the finish to see M come in just behind the winning lady. She'd run a great race, taking the lead with a mile to go, forcing the winner to dig deep to earn her victory. I'm not sure if I'd have beaten her today. I then felt bad that M may have been deprived of taking my scalp!!
My little escape from responsibility over and naturally feeling rather low, I then had to get back to Yorkshire and do the right thing by the boys. No.2 son had arrived back from a sleepover and was feeling lonely at home, while No.1 so was playing for the 3rd XI at North Leeds. He really wanted me to see him play, so M kindly took me out there. We just missed him get a quickfire twenty odd off just 13 balls at the end of the innings to help his side post a score of 159. I thought it wouldn't be enough, but the home team was skittled out for just 69, my lad taking a stunning diving slip catch to dismiss their most dangerous batsman. That made up for him not getting a chance to bowl his off-spin.
I was then left to cycle the 18 miles back home to Ilkley, finding a few miles of bridleway to justify being on the MB. I felt the calf a little when pushing on the hills, but it didn't cause me too many problems, although I thought it wise to take things steady. I'm hoping it's not going to effect my cycling. The only positive spin I can place on this is that it will force me to concentrate on the bike now rather than spread myself across two disciplines. But I'm going to miss the racing. That's a buzz I just don't get from the cycling. Will I ever learn?
The first reaction is not so much about the longer term but the disappointment of not being able to race. The adrenalin had started to pump around the system and it had suddenly got nowhere to go. Then came the realisation that I'll be missing out on Buckden Pike next weekend, and then possibly a whole host of other summer evening races. How could I have been so stupid? I really started beating myself up. All the signs were there and I simply refused to heed them. But, then, over the last few years I have grown so accustomed to this calf tightness that I would barely have raced at all if I were to have been overly cautious. I've always found it hard to enter into the spirit of watching races when I can't race myself. There is this really strong feeling of being excluded. I limped back to the finish to see M come in just behind the winning lady. She'd run a great race, taking the lead with a mile to go, forcing the winner to dig deep to earn her victory. I'm not sure if I'd have beaten her today. I then felt bad that M may have been deprived of taking my scalp!!
My little escape from responsibility over and naturally feeling rather low, I then had to get back to Yorkshire and do the right thing by the boys. No.2 son had arrived back from a sleepover and was feeling lonely at home, while No.1 so was playing for the 3rd XI at North Leeds. He really wanted me to see him play, so M kindly took me out there. We just missed him get a quickfire twenty odd off just 13 balls at the end of the innings to help his side post a score of 159. I thought it wouldn't be enough, but the home team was skittled out for just 69, my lad taking a stunning diving slip catch to dismiss their most dangerous batsman. That made up for him not getting a chance to bowl his off-spin.
I was then left to cycle the 18 miles back home to Ilkley, finding a few miles of bridleway to justify being on the MB. I felt the calf a little when pushing on the hills, but it didn't cause me too many problems, although I thought it wise to take things steady. I'm hoping it's not going to effect my cycling. The only positive spin I can place on this is that it will force me to concentrate on the bike now rather than spread myself across two disciplines. But I'm going to miss the racing. That's a buzz I just don't get from the cycling. Will I ever learn?
Saturday 14 June 2008
Sherwood Forest
On the Mountain Bike this weekend for a change. Having been neglected for a good month, or even more, I'd been planning to check it over all week but just never seemed to find the time. And, of course, come this morning, and in a rush, it punished me for not giving it enough TLC. Eventually sorted things out and rode over the moor to meet up with M for a drive down south to meet some friends. The bike felt very heavy after riding the Carbon last weekend, and the climb up to Keighley Gate was slow. I suppose it is not helped by being straight uphill all the way from the front door. But I was reminded just how good the ride is from the top and along the canal. I must contrive to do this more often into the office.
M hatched a cunning plan for me to get to explore some of Sherwood Forest. Such a big part of my English heritage, but I'm ashamed to admit that I'd never visited it before. I feel like I've explored every inch of the upland areas of England, but most of the Midlands is a black hole to me. So, to put this right, I started at Clumber Park near Worksop and enjoyed a great circuit around there on some really good tracks - technically very easy, but lovely to ride nonetheless. From there I picked up the Sustrans National Route 6 which provided an off-road link to Sherwood Forest, although I was unable to follow the route through because it was being used by a motor rally. I'm normally a bit of a rebel when it comes to being told where I can and cannot take my bike, but I wasn't going to mess around with sharing the forest tracks with rally cars at the speed they were going!
The diversion was attractive enough and I rejoined Route 6 to take me to the edge of Sherwood Pines Forest Park where I was to meet back with M. Unfortunately, coming in from the far side, there were myriad single-track trails, but no signposts, and, as you do in Forests, I very soon lost any sense of direction. Things were then exacerbated by the fact that the rally drivers were doing a stage here too, and my route to the main centre seemed to be cut-off. I felt bad for running so late, but I did get to explore a lot of the trails, and when I did eventually find a route through, it was the best riding of the day. There was one section of old woodland, the track dappled in sunlight, everything fresh and kind of steamy from a recent shower, which was timeless, and it was easy to imagine that nothing had changed in centuries.
There were loads and loads of families out on their bikes enjoying all these easy trails. This is something completely lacking in Ilkley and around about my part of the world. I have the best road cycling anywhere, but it's not for families and kids. The hills are too steep and there are very few places where you can get off the road like I did today. My ride in Nottinghamshire was just over 30 miles giving a total on the MB of just about 40 miles for the day. Finally, the showers abated and the sun came out for a picnic in a wonderful green space set amidst the trees. If they can sort their signposting out - which we were told they are doing - then this will soon be a superb place to come ride some great single-track.
M hatched a cunning plan for me to get to explore some of Sherwood Forest. Such a big part of my English heritage, but I'm ashamed to admit that I'd never visited it before. I feel like I've explored every inch of the upland areas of England, but most of the Midlands is a black hole to me. So, to put this right, I started at Clumber Park near Worksop and enjoyed a great circuit around there on some really good tracks - technically very easy, but lovely to ride nonetheless. From there I picked up the Sustrans National Route 6 which provided an off-road link to Sherwood Forest, although I was unable to follow the route through because it was being used by a motor rally. I'm normally a bit of a rebel when it comes to being told where I can and cannot take my bike, but I wasn't going to mess around with sharing the forest tracks with rally cars at the speed they were going!
The diversion was attractive enough and I rejoined Route 6 to take me to the edge of Sherwood Pines Forest Park where I was to meet back with M. Unfortunately, coming in from the far side, there were myriad single-track trails, but no signposts, and, as you do in Forests, I very soon lost any sense of direction. Things were then exacerbated by the fact that the rally drivers were doing a stage here too, and my route to the main centre seemed to be cut-off. I felt bad for running so late, but I did get to explore a lot of the trails, and when I did eventually find a route through, it was the best riding of the day. There was one section of old woodland, the track dappled in sunlight, everything fresh and kind of steamy from a recent shower, which was timeless, and it was easy to imagine that nothing had changed in centuries.
There were loads and loads of families out on their bikes enjoying all these easy trails. This is something completely lacking in Ilkley and around about my part of the world. I have the best road cycling anywhere, but it's not for families and kids. The hills are too steep and there are very few places where you can get off the road like I did today. My ride in Nottinghamshire was just over 30 miles giving a total on the MB of just about 40 miles for the day. Finally, the showers abated and the sun came out for a picnic in a wonderful green space set amidst the trees. If they can sort their signposting out - which we were told they are doing - then this will soon be a superb place to come ride some great single-track.
Friday 13 June 2008
Twenty-Twenty
It was head down today to try to finish off this current tranche of work so I can take some time out this weekend. I feel very stale from having spent too many hours at the computer this week, but need to leave things in a tidy state. I can never properly relax if I have unfinished business. So, a day at home with an early start and a late night, the only break being to chill out watching the 20-20 International against New Zealand. I am a passionate cricket lover, and adore the long form of the game, but I'm also developing a passion for this, the very shortest form of the game. With so little time to spare at the moment it suits my lifestyle well. Where test match cricket has high drama, 20-20 cricket has high octane action. It can never fully satisfy my cricketing soul because drama touches the emotions, and the crash-bang-wallop action of the 20 over game, being much more superficial, cannot do that. But it's fun to watch ... and it looks like a lot of fun for the players too. I really hope that doesn't change with these massive cash prizes that are soon going to be on offer.
Thursday 12 June 2008
Where'd they go?
I work up early this morning and spent a good twenty minutes drifting in and out of sleep, toying with the notion of getting up and going out with the Earlybirds. The two sides of me were at odds with each other in a very closely fought contest, before my lazy common-sense self was finally defeated by that driven, usually more dominant other self. But it had taken until 6.20 am so I was then involved in a frantic rush to get out of the house in ten minutes - which I didn't quite make. I was only a couple of minutes late so I set off in pursuit of the gang, but the legs didn't want to work that hard so early in the morning. I chased hard until Nesfield where I could see the road ahead for half a mile, and there was still no sign of them on the road, so I realised that I was never going to catch them. I settled for a gentle, quiet spin, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the morning. It started to drizzle a bit at Bolton Bridge so, feeling a little uninspired, I turned around there and dawdled back, half expecting to have the gang come flying past me - but they never did. I wonder where they got to?
Today, I finally found an elegant way of solving the problem I've been working on all week, somewhat helped by finally getting a clear specification of the requirement. I feel so much better for having been able to come up with something that is aesthetically pure as well as robust. Having to write ugly code really depresses me!
No.2 son has been getting out on his bike a bit of late and I thought it would be good to get out together after dinner for a short ride as it was a pleasantly still evening. I wore his reluctance down pretty quickly and got out at 9pm for just 6 miles, taking in Curly Hill and the bridleway across to High Austby. He's definitely getting fitter. I'm hoping that he can start building up over this next few weeks so we can get some good rides in during the summer holidays. No.1 son was supposed to go riding with his mates this morning, but it was impossible to get him out of bed. I think he could get into it and really enjoy himself on the bike, but his driven self has tunnel vision only for cricket. I guess I'm going to have to work on him. It would be so fantastic if I could get them both out for a day's ride.
This calf niggle is not showing any sign of improvement. It's beginning to annoy me now, that I just pushed it a bit too hard. It's probably something of nothing, because I've been here many times before, but I'd like to know for sure. It's bugging me tonight.
Today, I finally found an elegant way of solving the problem I've been working on all week, somewhat helped by finally getting a clear specification of the requirement. I feel so much better for having been able to come up with something that is aesthetically pure as well as robust. Having to write ugly code really depresses me!
No.2 son has been getting out on his bike a bit of late and I thought it would be good to get out together after dinner for a short ride as it was a pleasantly still evening. I wore his reluctance down pretty quickly and got out at 9pm for just 6 miles, taking in Curly Hill and the bridleway across to High Austby. He's definitely getting fitter. I'm hoping that he can start building up over this next few weeks so we can get some good rides in during the summer holidays. No.1 son was supposed to go riding with his mates this morning, but it was impossible to get him out of bed. I think he could get into it and really enjoy himself on the bike, but his driven self has tunnel vision only for cricket. I guess I'm going to have to work on him. It would be so fantastic if I could get them both out for a day's ride.
This calf niggle is not showing any sign of improvement. It's beginning to annoy me now, that I just pushed it a bit too hard. It's probably something of nothing, because I've been here many times before, but I'd like to know for sure. It's bugging me tonight.
Wednesday 11 June 2008
Conditioning
Slept like a baby last night and was better able to cope with the stresses of work today as a result. The left calf is still a little tight, but I'm not too worried about it. The legs feel more tired today than they did after Sunday. If the opportunity had arisen then I would have got out on the bike - because I'm in that kind of mindset - but I didn't get back from the office until late. With the boys demanding food, and then The Apprentice to watch, it was just never going to happen - which is probably just as well because I'm creaking a bit going up and down the stairs right now.
Of course, it's hardly surprising that I'm feeling some fatigue and I have to admit to being quite chuffed at being able to race at all last night after Sunday's efforts. It's quite amazing what you can condition the body to do. I suppose it's about 20 years since I've pushed this hard to see what's possible. And I guess I'm harbouring a desire to carry on pushing. It's addictive!
Of course, it's hardly surprising that I'm feeling some fatigue and I have to admit to being quite chuffed at being able to race at all last night after Sunday's efforts. It's quite amazing what you can condition the body to do. I suppose it's about 20 years since I've pushed this hard to see what's possible. And I guess I'm harbouring a desire to carry on pushing. It's addictive!
Tuesday 10 June 2008
St. Ives Trail Race
It was a difficult day at the computer today. Aesthetics are very important to me, and I prefer to pursue elegant solutions rather than merely pragmatic ones. This often gets me into trouble because elegance comes at the price of time - in the short run anyway. In the longer run, elegance usually equates with better in every sense. Sometimes, though, an elegant solution just doesn't seem to appear - which normally suggests that the problem is being framed in the wrong way. This is what I came up against today and I've been forced to eschew elegance for the sake of simply getting something working because time is short and I have to deliver.
The problem is a hard one, though, and every time I seem to have cracked it, another scenario appears which throws up the need for more thought - and complexity. By the end of the afternoon I felt some kind of overload occurring inside my head. I lost the ability to think clearly and I hate that feeling. I started to doubt my powers of reasoning, which do seem to be eroding with age. In many ways I find this mental erosion harder to deal with than the inevitable physical erosion. I suppose, like with the physical fitness, you just have to keep up the exercise. With everything on the work front coming together at once right now, I don't think that will be a problem!
Tonight was the Ilkley Harriers v Bingley Harriers mob match that M and I have promoted amongst our clubs. I had no idea how many people were going to turn out as a result of the cajoling e-mails that I've sent, so I was quietly relieved when the red and green vests started to appear around the registration area, and soon seemed to be out-numbering the blue and white vests of Bingley. It was another beautiful evening, but still feeling rather at odds with myself, I had no real intention of racing tonight. The plan was to have a steady run around the St.Ives Estate and enjoy the scenery, and some new tracks. That very soon went out of the window with the very fast downhill start. I found the legs to be not as tired as I expected and seeing familiar people around me, it was simply impossible not to get just a little bit competitive. After overtaking a few fellow Harriers I settled in behind GB, one of those friends who I really wouldn't want to have beating me - because he would never let me forget it! After a mile I began to realise that, actually, yes, the legs were quite tired and this was not going to be easy. But I was now in full racing mode and I overtook GB and got in behind CM and MF. There was a lot of narrow, twisty paths in the middle of the course, so it was very hard to overtake and I settled for simply maintaining my position. I certainly didn't feel like going any faster anyway. It looked like the V50 race was going to be between CM and myself, so the tactic was to hang in there and hopefully get my man on the final climb.
As it turned out, the fatigue of Sunday clicked in at around the 5 mile mark and the last mile was very tough, with my troublesome left calf tightening up. Not knowing the course, things were made worse by having no real idea of how far there was to go. I don't think I've been so glad to see the finish of any event all year. But I was in the prizes with 2nd V50, and 15th overall, which can't be too bad. GB had hung in there really well because he was only just behind me at the end. He very nearly claimed a fine scalp there! I would have had nothing to respond with if he'd attacked me on the last hill.
As for the mob match, we had a fantastic turnout, including Mrs.Gizzajob, who I think was running her first ever race, and that really was the main point of this match, to encourage people out who wouldn't normally run a race. Regardless of probably winning the match, I think we can call the event a great success. I certainly got to meet a lot of new faces from the club. And CM from Keighley and Craven wants to challenge us to something similar. This concept could really catch on.
The problem is a hard one, though, and every time I seem to have cracked it, another scenario appears which throws up the need for more thought - and complexity. By the end of the afternoon I felt some kind of overload occurring inside my head. I lost the ability to think clearly and I hate that feeling. I started to doubt my powers of reasoning, which do seem to be eroding with age. In many ways I find this mental erosion harder to deal with than the inevitable physical erosion. I suppose, like with the physical fitness, you just have to keep up the exercise. With everything on the work front coming together at once right now, I don't think that will be a problem!
Tonight was the Ilkley Harriers v Bingley Harriers mob match that M and I have promoted amongst our clubs. I had no idea how many people were going to turn out as a result of the cajoling e-mails that I've sent, so I was quietly relieved when the red and green vests started to appear around the registration area, and soon seemed to be out-numbering the blue and white vests of Bingley. It was another beautiful evening, but still feeling rather at odds with myself, I had no real intention of racing tonight. The plan was to have a steady run around the St.Ives Estate and enjoy the scenery, and some new tracks. That very soon went out of the window with the very fast downhill start. I found the legs to be not as tired as I expected and seeing familiar people around me, it was simply impossible not to get just a little bit competitive. After overtaking a few fellow Harriers I settled in behind GB, one of those friends who I really wouldn't want to have beating me - because he would never let me forget it! After a mile I began to realise that, actually, yes, the legs were quite tired and this was not going to be easy. But I was now in full racing mode and I overtook GB and got in behind CM and MF. There was a lot of narrow, twisty paths in the middle of the course, so it was very hard to overtake and I settled for simply maintaining my position. I certainly didn't feel like going any faster anyway. It looked like the V50 race was going to be between CM and myself, so the tactic was to hang in there and hopefully get my man on the final climb.
As it turned out, the fatigue of Sunday clicked in at around the 5 mile mark and the last mile was very tough, with my troublesome left calf tightening up. Not knowing the course, things were made worse by having no real idea of how far there was to go. I don't think I've been so glad to see the finish of any event all year. But I was in the prizes with 2nd V50, and 15th overall, which can't be too bad. GB had hung in there really well because he was only just behind me at the end. He very nearly claimed a fine scalp there! I would have had nothing to respond with if he'd attacked me on the last hill.
As for the mob match, we had a fantastic turnout, including Mrs.Gizzajob, who I think was running her first ever race, and that really was the main point of this match, to encourage people out who wouldn't normally run a race. Regardless of probably winning the match, I think we can call the event a great success. I certainly got to meet a lot of new faces from the club. And CM from Keighley and Craven wants to challenge us to something similar. This concept could really catch on.
Monday 9 June 2008
Feeling High
I often experience a sense of anti-climax after these big events, but there was no such feeling today. I've been high on life! I had a potentially difficult meeting this morning but actually found myself being quite sharp and had the confidence to push aside all the bull-shit. I feel like I've been empowered somehow! Also, I've previously felt rather 'washed-out' after these long sportives, but I haven't really found that today. I guess it's a sign that I'm getting fitter and better conditioned. I'm taking that as a reward for all those long hours of training in the cold of winter.
I finally made one of my Ilkley Harrier cycle meets tonight. I was joined by PW, NT, MI, young JH, plus new recruits NC and son. We took a steady ride out to Barden Bridge and back via Cavendish, with a few efforts along the way. A very social ride on a beautiful evening, and the legs felt fine, although, quite understandably, they lacked a bit of zip on the hills. It was probably the best thing I could have done, to take an easy 20 mile spin today. It will be interesting to see how they cope with racing tomorrow.
I finally made one of my Ilkley Harrier cycle meets tonight. I was joined by PW, NT, MI, young JH, plus new recruits NC and son. We took a steady ride out to Barden Bridge and back via Cavendish, with a few efforts along the way. A very social ride on a beautiful evening, and the legs felt fine, although, quite understandably, they lacked a bit of zip on the hills. It was probably the best thing I could have done, to take an easy 20 mile spin today. It will be interesting to see how they cope with racing tomorrow.
Sunday 8 June 2008
Gold !
The White Rose Classic today and I was relaxed enough about it this morning to turn the alarm off and fall back to sleep! As a result I was in a rush getting ready, only managing a single slice of toast for breakfast, and was much later than intended setting off from home to cycle the 6 miles to the start at Otley. The planned leisurely sign-in and some pre-event banter with my Earlybird mates seemed to have gone out the window, but then El Cid passed me in his van just before Burley so it was good to know the gang were running late too.
Superb organisation at the start saw us hit the road as a group just after the appointed 7.45. It was a perfect day. From the texture of the sky you just knew it was going to stay fine, and it felt good to be able to discard the windproof and travel really light. El Cid and Cacophony shepherded the group from the start, ensuring a steady pace. If felt just about right to me. It was all quite social early on and then on the way up to Greenhow I came up behind Superlight who had started a little earlier than us. Got chatting, as you do, lost concentration and suddenly found myself adrift of the group. It wasn't a lot of distance, but it took me a mile or more of hard effort to catch back up again. I was actually amazed at how much I had to graft in order to rejoin.
A brisk pace was set all the way to Grassington, where we took an express refuelling, and on up the Wharfe Valley at an even more brisk pace. I found myself working quite hard all the way to Buckden and wondering if I was perhaps going too hard. But I really didn't want to lose the group. We got a little strung out on the climb up Fleet Moss, but we all got to the feed station at Hawes at pretty much the same time. I was surprised that we were keeping together so well, so all credit to our team leaders for that.
A bit of a nagging wind (breeze really) out of Hawes which forced me to have to concentrate quite hard - and then on to the Coal Road. As with each time I've done it this year, I found the climb pass very quickly. El Cid was just 50 yards up the road all the way, but although I could have closed the gap, my internal governor insisted that I stay within my comfort zone. Looking at the watch it seemed like a Gold Standard time was definitely on, and I really didn't want to blow up and miss out. I might possibly never get a better chance.
I always seem to struggle a bit on the climb out of Dentdale and today was no different. I'm sure a lot of that is in the head. Surpised to pass CM here, but soon realised that he was just out for a tootle today. I'd been riding with MS for a while now and after getting away from me on the climb, we joined forces for the run down to Stainforth after I picked up a tow to catch him up. He did a bit more work than me because I began a fight with cramp at this point. As soon as I pushed the pace up I got twinges. I still felt reasonably strong but I had to limit the speed. From Stainforth I had to let MS go again. Apart from cramp never being far away I felt like I had run out of fuel, much like at the same point in the Etape du Dales. It was also getting distinctly warm. It was fine when you were travelling at pace, but as soon as you slowed on the climbs, it hit you. And I was beginning to run out of water. The section over the moorland across to Malham was a bit of a grind, but I think I can say that I still enjoyed it by simply backing off the pace and taking in the amazing scenery. The quality of light today was sensational. The Dales were to be seen at their very best.
After a rapid descent into Malham I was ready to linger a bit at this final feedstation, but once off the bike I got a terrible attack of cramp, both quads going into spasm and locking up. I must have looked quite a sight as I hunched over in agony, waiting a seemingly interminable time for the attack to pass. I was rather embarassed to have to ask someone to pick my bottles up for me because I didn't dare bend over! I decided that the best thing to do was to get straight back on the bike. I swigged down some electrolyte and, quite amazingly, the cramp went away. I didn't suffer another bad attack until the spin back to the rugby club in Otley after the finish. At one point, I really thought that was going to be it for the ride!
I was on my own all the way from Malham back to Otley, which suited me to be honest. I wanted to be in my own space at this point. I felt the need to go at my own pace, and enjoy the beauty of my 'back garden' country as opposed to watching the back of someone's wheel. It was also great to be riding the last 20 miles of an event on roads that you know like the back of your hand. I had a good eye on the watch, and although not knowing exactly when I started, I had increasing confidence in getting that Gold - although I knew it would be tight. I just had to get up Langbar without the cramp returning. As I got closer to home, the legs seemed to feel fresher and fresher, which must certainly have been in the mind. The tactic up Langbar was just to take it real slow and ensure that I was in good shape to push on at the top. And that's exactly what I did. No problems with cramp and managed to ride strongly all the way back to the finish to record a time of 7.21.58 ... and a Gold Standard. I feel like I can retire now!!
The organisation was quite superb throughout. Nothing could be faulted. Great food and tea on tap at the rugby club. And masses of banter. I kept trying to get away to cycle back home, but each time I went to get on the bike I spotted someone new coming in that I knew and had a chat. Helped by the warm sun, the craic afterwards was fantastic.
Of the mates from the Earlybirds group that I was with until the Coal Road, Chills got a superb 7.01 finish, and El Cid an equally good 7.03. Gizzajob was delighted with 7.10, just reward for a lot of hard training this year - and I'm going to look into his new gel-only food technique. Well done mate! MS finished just a couple of minutes ahead of me in 7.18 and Cacophony a little behind me in 7.32, which I could tell he was disappointed with, but it was his first long event of the year. With this under his belt, the big man will be pushing the others hard for sure. RM finished in an excellent 7.11, his pedigree coming through today. He also uses straight bars so it was good for once to have some company in that respect. Finally, Superlight found that his overdraft didn't occur such heavy penalties as he feared to come home in 8.57.
A completely fantastic day out for one and all. I eventually clocked up a total of 132 miles. I'm going to bed tired but on a fantastic high.
Superb organisation at the start saw us hit the road as a group just after the appointed 7.45. It was a perfect day. From the texture of the sky you just knew it was going to stay fine, and it felt good to be able to discard the windproof and travel really light. El Cid and Cacophony shepherded the group from the start, ensuring a steady pace. If felt just about right to me. It was all quite social early on and then on the way up to Greenhow I came up behind Superlight who had started a little earlier than us. Got chatting, as you do, lost concentration and suddenly found myself adrift of the group. It wasn't a lot of distance, but it took me a mile or more of hard effort to catch back up again. I was actually amazed at how much I had to graft in order to rejoin.
A brisk pace was set all the way to Grassington, where we took an express refuelling, and on up the Wharfe Valley at an even more brisk pace. I found myself working quite hard all the way to Buckden and wondering if I was perhaps going too hard. But I really didn't want to lose the group. We got a little strung out on the climb up Fleet Moss, but we all got to the feed station at Hawes at pretty much the same time. I was surprised that we were keeping together so well, so all credit to our team leaders for that.
A bit of a nagging wind (breeze really) out of Hawes which forced me to have to concentrate quite hard - and then on to the Coal Road. As with each time I've done it this year, I found the climb pass very quickly. El Cid was just 50 yards up the road all the way, but although I could have closed the gap, my internal governor insisted that I stay within my comfort zone. Looking at the watch it seemed like a Gold Standard time was definitely on, and I really didn't want to blow up and miss out. I might possibly never get a better chance.
I always seem to struggle a bit on the climb out of Dentdale and today was no different. I'm sure a lot of that is in the head. Surpised to pass CM here, but soon realised that he was just out for a tootle today. I'd been riding with MS for a while now and after getting away from me on the climb, we joined forces for the run down to Stainforth after I picked up a tow to catch him up. He did a bit more work than me because I began a fight with cramp at this point. As soon as I pushed the pace up I got twinges. I still felt reasonably strong but I had to limit the speed. From Stainforth I had to let MS go again. Apart from cramp never being far away I felt like I had run out of fuel, much like at the same point in the Etape du Dales. It was also getting distinctly warm. It was fine when you were travelling at pace, but as soon as you slowed on the climbs, it hit you. And I was beginning to run out of water. The section over the moorland across to Malham was a bit of a grind, but I think I can say that I still enjoyed it by simply backing off the pace and taking in the amazing scenery. The quality of light today was sensational. The Dales were to be seen at their very best.
After a rapid descent into Malham I was ready to linger a bit at this final feedstation, but once off the bike I got a terrible attack of cramp, both quads going into spasm and locking up. I must have looked quite a sight as I hunched over in agony, waiting a seemingly interminable time for the attack to pass. I was rather embarassed to have to ask someone to pick my bottles up for me because I didn't dare bend over! I decided that the best thing to do was to get straight back on the bike. I swigged down some electrolyte and, quite amazingly, the cramp went away. I didn't suffer another bad attack until the spin back to the rugby club in Otley after the finish. At one point, I really thought that was going to be it for the ride!
I was on my own all the way from Malham back to Otley, which suited me to be honest. I wanted to be in my own space at this point. I felt the need to go at my own pace, and enjoy the beauty of my 'back garden' country as opposed to watching the back of someone's wheel. It was also great to be riding the last 20 miles of an event on roads that you know like the back of your hand. I had a good eye on the watch, and although not knowing exactly when I started, I had increasing confidence in getting that Gold - although I knew it would be tight. I just had to get up Langbar without the cramp returning. As I got closer to home, the legs seemed to feel fresher and fresher, which must certainly have been in the mind. The tactic up Langbar was just to take it real slow and ensure that I was in good shape to push on at the top. And that's exactly what I did. No problems with cramp and managed to ride strongly all the way back to the finish to record a time of 7.21.58 ... and a Gold Standard. I feel like I can retire now!!
Descending Langbar (5 miles to go)
Photo from cyclingimages.co.uk
The organisation was quite superb throughout. Nothing could be faulted. Great food and tea on tap at the rugby club. And masses of banter. I kept trying to get away to cycle back home, but each time I went to get on the bike I spotted someone new coming in that I knew and had a chat. Helped by the warm sun, the craic afterwards was fantastic.
Of the mates from the Earlybirds group that I was with until the Coal Road, Chills got a superb 7.01 finish, and El Cid an equally good 7.03. Gizzajob was delighted with 7.10, just reward for a lot of hard training this year - and I'm going to look into his new gel-only food technique. Well done mate! MS finished just a couple of minutes ahead of me in 7.18 and Cacophony a little behind me in 7.32, which I could tell he was disappointed with, but it was his first long event of the year. With this under his belt, the big man will be pushing the others hard for sure. RM finished in an excellent 7.11, his pedigree coming through today. He also uses straight bars so it was good for once to have some company in that respect. Finally, Superlight found that his overdraft didn't occur such heavy penalties as he feared to come home in 8.57.
A completely fantastic day out for one and all. I eventually clocked up a total of 132 miles. I'm going to bed tired but on a fantastic high.
Saturday 7 June 2008
Winding down
I actually managed to get a full night's sleep last night, with the result, of course, that I feel totally wiped out today. I know it's the body winding down before tomorrow's 117 miles, but it's still difficult not to be a little daunted by that prospect when you're feeling so tired. Following a decision by a client on Friday I needed to write a bit more code today to be ready for more testing on Monday, as well as some more bug-fixing, but it's been a little slow fitting that in between some necessary chores and time with the boys. It's been one of those days when you seem to be busy all day, but don't seem to have much to show for all the effort.
I was intending to go for a short ride with No.2 son this afternoon, but jet-lag got the better of him. He fell asleep after lunch and it was impossible for me to wake him up (oh, to be able to sleep that soundly!), and by the time I did I was feeling too tired myself to make the suggestion. But that's fine. I'm finding myself much more relaxed about this event than the Etape du Dales, which I'm sure is because I'm not really placing any great expectation upon myself. First and foremost, I simply want to enjoy a long day out on the bike on my very favourite roads.
There has been a lot of talk on the forums this week about Sportives not being races. I certainly don't regard them as such. The biggest factor is that we all start off at different times so it's actually not possible to race in the true sense of the word. You are racing against the clock, certainly, but that is a very different thing. Sportives can't be considered as time-trials either, because riding in groups and drafting is a big factor, and actually one of the major attractions. There is a lot of luck involved here too. I find that half the fun is to be had in the opportunities to hook up with ad hoc groups during the event, sharing, even if only fleetingly, a common bond of purpose. I always feel that I'm riding with and never against other riders in this context. I really think that's the key point. When I'm running a fell race I am definitely running against other people! I want to beat the other runners around me. When I'm riding a sportive I am riding with the other people. There is no sense of wanting to beat the people in a group that you are riding with, because the likelihood is that you all started at different times.
There is an ethic to the Sportive which I like to think is upheld by the vast majority. It's hard to imagine two people riding around together and then having a full-on sprint at the end to determine the winner. They are not races in the traditional sense of the word. For that reason I think it is perfectly sensible to prohibit the offering of prizes, but it seems a bit silly to stipulate that results should not be published in finishing order, because, if we're honest, that's how we all really want to see them presented. We're not children. I think that's an unnecessary artifice. I understand that it is vital for legal reasons that Sportives are never classified as races, and the bottom-line is that this really comes down to the riders being responsible and not treating them as such. I'd be happy to see the organisers disqualifying any rider who drops litter or rides recklessly. There is never any excuse for that. At the end of the day, we are all just enthusiastic hobbyists having a day out and a bit of fun. I would hate to have that jeopardised by a selfish few. Not sure how I suddenly found myself on the old soapbox there. It just kind of happened. Right, better get myself organised for tomorrow ...
I was intending to go for a short ride with No.2 son this afternoon, but jet-lag got the better of him. He fell asleep after lunch and it was impossible for me to wake him up (oh, to be able to sleep that soundly!), and by the time I did I was feeling too tired myself to make the suggestion. But that's fine. I'm finding myself much more relaxed about this event than the Etape du Dales, which I'm sure is because I'm not really placing any great expectation upon myself. First and foremost, I simply want to enjoy a long day out on the bike on my very favourite roads.
There has been a lot of talk on the forums this week about Sportives not being races. I certainly don't regard them as such. The biggest factor is that we all start off at different times so it's actually not possible to race in the true sense of the word. You are racing against the clock, certainly, but that is a very different thing. Sportives can't be considered as time-trials either, because riding in groups and drafting is a big factor, and actually one of the major attractions. There is a lot of luck involved here too. I find that half the fun is to be had in the opportunities to hook up with ad hoc groups during the event, sharing, even if only fleetingly, a common bond of purpose. I always feel that I'm riding with and never against other riders in this context. I really think that's the key point. When I'm running a fell race I am definitely running against other people! I want to beat the other runners around me. When I'm riding a sportive I am riding with the other people. There is no sense of wanting to beat the people in a group that you are riding with, because the likelihood is that you all started at different times.
There is an ethic to the Sportive which I like to think is upheld by the vast majority. It's hard to imagine two people riding around together and then having a full-on sprint at the end to determine the winner. They are not races in the traditional sense of the word. For that reason I think it is perfectly sensible to prohibit the offering of prizes, but it seems a bit silly to stipulate that results should not be published in finishing order, because, if we're honest, that's how we all really want to see them presented. We're not children. I think that's an unnecessary artifice. I understand that it is vital for legal reasons that Sportives are never classified as races, and the bottom-line is that this really comes down to the riders being responsible and not treating them as such. I'd be happy to see the organisers disqualifying any rider who drops litter or rides recklessly. There is never any excuse for that. At the end of the day, we are all just enthusiastic hobbyists having a day out and a bit of fun. I would hate to have that jeopardised by a selfish few. Not sure how I suddenly found myself on the old soapbox there. It just kind of happened. Right, better get myself organised for tomorrow ...
Friday 6 June 2008
The Traveller Returns
I wanted to get up early to catch the Earlybirds, or perhaps I'd better say Earlybird (sorry to miss you again Mark), because I think they've been a bit thin on the ground this week. But it wasn't to be. I got to bed a bit too late again, trying to finish off some new code so it would be ready for testing this morning. In the end, though, it took me until mid-afternoon to finish, but I got there eventually and I was pleased to have come up with an elegant solution to this multiple appointment issue that I've been struggling with.
The legs felt a little sore from the Chevin yesterday, and they still feel quite sore today. I guess I ran harder on the descent than I have for quite a while. I'm trusting that they'll be fine for Sunday and the White Rose Classic. I usually reckon that I'm recovered from most things in 3 days. The weather looks set to be fair, indeed quite perfect at the moment if there is no change to the prediction. I'm really looking forward to it, because I'm determined first and foremost to enjoy the day out, without the pressure of worrying about time. I think that's the true spirit of the Sportive. Things might change on the road, of course, but that's how I'm going into it. Nice and relaxed. It's actually a wonderful feeling to be fit enough to have no fear of the distance nor the climb, and to know that I'm going to have a blast!!
A fair bit of chat on the bikeradar forum about the demise of cyclosport.org, and a fell running friend of mine, Keith Parkinson, has very quickly put up a simple listing of events at http://www.sportivelinks.org.uk to fill the gap that had been left, only for the site to get resurrected this afternoon under a new banner. It's all distinctly odd and I'm hoping that Mark will provide his community with an explanation of the strange events of the last 48 hours. I discussed with Keith earlier today the merits of simple lists. It was E.F.Schumacher who coined the phrase "Small is Beautiful" from his book of that name, but I actually prefer "Simple is Beautiful". Not wanting to take anything away from the community aspect of cyclosport.org, Keith's single page list of events and links is actually a far more accessible and useful reference than anything we've had before. Simple is indeed beautiful. It's easy to forget that when the scope to create complexity is so great!
The highlight of the day was being re-united with No.2 son after his travels in Peru. He's had a hard time of it with stomach bugs and altitude sickness, but he's enjoyed an amazing experience nonetheless. The highlight for him was Machu Picchu and the climb up Wayna Picchu where he felt the urge to run up and overtake all the 'tourists' to get to the top before anyone else. He always had this urge when he was young, to run rather than walk up hills, but I feared it had been lost. But you can't deny your genetic heritage! It's good to know that he really is a chip off the old block!! Hopefully this can be a springboard from which we can now get some good riding in together.
The legs felt a little sore from the Chevin yesterday, and they still feel quite sore today. I guess I ran harder on the descent than I have for quite a while. I'm trusting that they'll be fine for Sunday and the White Rose Classic. I usually reckon that I'm recovered from most things in 3 days. The weather looks set to be fair, indeed quite perfect at the moment if there is no change to the prediction. I'm really looking forward to it, because I'm determined first and foremost to enjoy the day out, without the pressure of worrying about time. I think that's the true spirit of the Sportive. Things might change on the road, of course, but that's how I'm going into it. Nice and relaxed. It's actually a wonderful feeling to be fit enough to have no fear of the distance nor the climb, and to know that I'm going to have a blast!!
A fair bit of chat on the bikeradar forum about the demise of cyclosport.org, and a fell running friend of mine, Keith Parkinson, has very quickly put up a simple listing of events at http://www.sportivelinks.org.uk to fill the gap that had been left, only for the site to get resurrected this afternoon under a new banner. It's all distinctly odd and I'm hoping that Mark will provide his community with an explanation of the strange events of the last 48 hours. I discussed with Keith earlier today the merits of simple lists. It was E.F.Schumacher who coined the phrase "Small is Beautiful" from his book of that name, but I actually prefer "Simple is Beautiful". Not wanting to take anything away from the community aspect of cyclosport.org, Keith's single page list of events and links is actually a far more accessible and useful reference than anything we've had before. Simple is indeed beautiful. It's easy to forget that when the scope to create complexity is so great!
The highlight of the day was being re-united with No.2 son after his travels in Peru. He's had a hard time of it with stomach bugs and altitude sickness, but he's enjoyed an amazing experience nonetheless. The highlight for him was Machu Picchu and the climb up Wayna Picchu where he felt the urge to run up and overtake all the 'tourists' to get to the top before anyone else. He always had this urge when he was young, to run rather than walk up hills, but I feared it had been lost. But you can't deny your genetic heritage! It's good to know that he really is a chip off the old block!! Hopefully this can be a springboard from which we can now get some good riding in together.
Thursday 5 June 2008
A new home
I started the morning by blogging my entry for the Chevin Fell Race last night, only to find that the cyclosport.org server had gone down before I was able to save the post. After a few revisits, a message revealed that Mark Harding had pulled the entire site, quoting reasons of legalities and lack of support. If the site is down for good, then this is a very great shame indeed. Mark has put a huge amount of work into creating a community and I believe it had become the first port of call for thousands of cyclists wanting to get information on events. I did question for myself whether it was possible to make a living out of such a site, but it seems crazy that having built up such a large and loyal following, he has been compelled to leave the community high and dry, so to speak. I've developed these casual relationships with other bloggers that I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to rekindle.
I feel I owe Mark one for being the person responsible for getting me into this whole blogging experience in the first place, but I hope he has a good reason for pulling the plug. When you create a community I think you perhaps take on a certain responsibility towards that community and I would feel rather let down if this came down to petulance! For now, I'm sure there is enough speculation going on without me adding more. Mark, if you get to read this by some route, thank you for all the work you've put in, and your certainly significant role in promoting events and raising the standards. I hope you can find a way to get your venture back on track, perhaps, I would be so bold to suggest, as a paying hobby rather than a full-on career! I wish you luck.
As it happens, I've had another dormant blog account for some time now and I began last week to start archiving entries. Being 'in the business' I'm always a little paranoid about backing things up. A word of advice, if you don't have at least one copy of an electronic document, it may as well not exist. Copy everything of value. Again and again! You need the weight of many duplicates in order to lend some substantive quality to things that actually have an extremely intangible and ephemeral physical existence!! So, my blog has a new permanent home here courtesy of those nice people at google. Hopefully, I'll be around here for a while.
I feel I owe Mark one for being the person responsible for getting me into this whole blogging experience in the first place, but I hope he has a good reason for pulling the plug. When you create a community I think you perhaps take on a certain responsibility towards that community and I would feel rather let down if this came down to petulance! For now, I'm sure there is enough speculation going on without me adding more. Mark, if you get to read this by some route, thank you for all the work you've put in, and your certainly significant role in promoting events and raising the standards. I hope you can find a way to get your venture back on track, perhaps, I would be so bold to suggest, as a paying hobby rather than a full-on career! I wish you luck.
As it happens, I've had another dormant blog account for some time now and I began last week to start archiving entries. Being 'in the business' I'm always a little paranoid about backing things up. A word of advice, if you don't have at least one copy of an electronic document, it may as well not exist. Copy everything of value. Again and again! You need the weight of many duplicates in order to lend some substantive quality to things that actually have an extremely intangible and ephemeral physical existence!! So, my blog has a new permanent home here courtesy of those nice people at google. Hopefully, I'll be around here for a while.
Wednesday 4 June 2008
Otley Chevin Fell Race
It would have been a perfect day to have been out on the bike, but more crazy schedules and the whole afternoon spent at meetings in Seacroft meant that would never have been possible, even without the Chevin Fell Race looming in the evening. This race is one that I always look forward to, and usually run quite well in. It starts from near the town centre and heads pretty much straight up to the top of the Chevin, with a little loop around the summit ridge, before going back down, fortunately not quite as directly as the ascent, which goes up the formidable set of steps!
I always cycle the 6 miles over to the race to warm the muscles up and actually left a bit more time than I usually do to get changed into running gear. I arrived with a full forty minutes to spare as opposed to my usual fifteen! Warming up, the legs didn't feel very lively. I usually target this race a bit and ease off for 2 or 3 days beforehand. This year I decided to see how I would fare with the legs fairly full of bike miles. This began to feel like not such a good idea! The first section of the race is flat and I actually felt ok from the start, but as soon as the climb ramped up I realised that the legs were indeed as tired as I suspected they were. This is where I usually dig in and start overtaking people, but it was really all I could do to hold my place tonight. I took the steps fairly steadily, but still seemed to be in massive oxygen debt at the top. I felt like I was running much slower than normal but at least I wasn't being overtaken. I had a lead on DC, who I haven't beaten in quite a while, so my incentive was to try to stay ahead on the descent tonight - which I managed to do. Usually I have quite a few mates around to compete with but tonight I was actually happy to have a bit of a void both ahead and behind, enabling me to coast in to some extent. I finished 29th in 21.25 and first V50 (fortunately DA was on the organisational side tonight - although actually I would have rather relished the contest). M cycled over too and claimed first lady V50. The first of a few such doubles I hope!
I always cycle the 6 miles over to the race to warm the muscles up and actually left a bit more time than I usually do to get changed into running gear. I arrived with a full forty minutes to spare as opposed to my usual fifteen! Warming up, the legs didn't feel very lively. I usually target this race a bit and ease off for 2 or 3 days beforehand. This year I decided to see how I would fare with the legs fairly full of bike miles. This began to feel like not such a good idea! The first section of the race is flat and I actually felt ok from the start, but as soon as the climb ramped up I realised that the legs were indeed as tired as I suspected they were. This is where I usually dig in and start overtaking people, but it was really all I could do to hold my place tonight. I took the steps fairly steadily, but still seemed to be in massive oxygen debt at the top. I felt like I was running much slower than normal but at least I wasn't being overtaken. I had a lead on DC, who I haven't beaten in quite a while, so my incentive was to try to stay ahead on the descent tonight - which I managed to do. Usually I have quite a few mates around to compete with but tonight I was actually happy to have a bit of a void both ahead and behind, enabling me to coast in to some extent. I finished 29th in 21.25 and first V50 (fortunately DA was on the organisational side tonight - although actually I would have rather relished the contest). M cycled over too and claimed first lady V50. The first of a few such doubles I hope!
I've dug out my times from the last few years, and I'm encouraged that I'm perhaps not declining into decrepitude as quickly as I sometimes think!
2005: 20.56 (3rd V40); 2006: 20.49 (1st V50); 2007: 21.05 (1st V50); 2008: 21.25 (1st V50)
Do I have the courage to dig a little deeper, into the old cardboard boxes, to see what times I did before results got posted on the web?
Tuesday 3 June 2008
Missing the rain ... again
Worked at home today and it was actually a joy not to have to be anywhere and just work straight through. Redesigned and implemented a solution to a tricky little problem and I think I managed to get it all working before the end of the afternoon. Concentration was helped by the fact that it had rained all day. Although the forecast was for it to clear for the evening, it was taking its time and, feeling very jaded from not having moved from the computer all day, I began to wonder if I would have the resolve to go out in the damp with the Earlybirds. But I had made an arrangement with Superlight so I didn't really have any choice. It's good to have these commitments sometimes!
As it turned out the evening was beautiful. The bad weather disappeared away to leave a virtually windless evening, with the rain making everything feel very fresh and intensely green. It was a great social ride. We spun out to Cavendish and up the lovely climb from Skyreholme - which taken a little more steadily than I usually ride it on my own felt remarkably easy - before returning via Hartlington Rakes and Burnsall, a bit under 30 miles I would guesss. I still haven't sorted the computer out on the training bike, and I still keep forgetting the Garmin!
There was a sudden decision on the way back to take in the climb of Langbar, but time was getting on and I had only made a holding meal for No.1 son, so I decided to decline the last hill. I was wondering if I've ever done that before. Felt a bit wimpy, but then I am racing tomorrow night. Should probably try to conserve a little energy for that. Superlight kept me company on the return via Nesfield. It was good to be riding with him after a gap of many years. He's doing the White Rose on Sunday on pretty much pure memory. He wrote me this last week, "The WRC is looming and I have very little in the road miles current account, so I am anticipating going seriously overdrawn on the day and getting hit with some pretty hefty unauthorised borrowing charges". Judging by tonight he might get away without being stung too hard. The muscles do seem to remember ... to a point!
As it turned out the evening was beautiful. The bad weather disappeared away to leave a virtually windless evening, with the rain making everything feel very fresh and intensely green. It was a great social ride. We spun out to Cavendish and up the lovely climb from Skyreholme - which taken a little more steadily than I usually ride it on my own felt remarkably easy - before returning via Hartlington Rakes and Burnsall, a bit under 30 miles I would guesss. I still haven't sorted the computer out on the training bike, and I still keep forgetting the Garmin!
There was a sudden decision on the way back to take in the climb of Langbar, but time was getting on and I had only made a holding meal for No.1 son, so I decided to decline the last hill. I was wondering if I've ever done that before. Felt a bit wimpy, but then I am racing tomorrow night. Should probably try to conserve a little energy for that. Superlight kept me company on the return via Nesfield. It was good to be riding with him after a gap of many years. He's doing the White Rose on Sunday on pretty much pure memory. He wrote me this last week, "The WRC is looming and I have very little in the road miles current account, so I am anticipating going seriously overdrawn on the day and getting hit with some pretty hefty unauthorised borrowing charges". Judging by tonight he might get away without being stung too hard. The muscles do seem to remember ... to a point!
Monday 2 June 2008
Caramel
Having missed quite a few Harrier's Monday evening rides of late, I was forced to miss another by having to stay late at the office for a meeting. It was a really beautiful evening too, but I did get in a much needed walk to clear the head before joining M to see Caramel at Pictureville. Another wonderful independent film, which more than made up for missing out on any exercise today. I told No.1 son later that it was an arabic film with subtitles, about the everyday lives of four women in Beirut and set in a hair salon. He wasn't complaining that I hadn't invited him along! The strange thing is that I know he would have enjoyed it - despite his cool 16-year-old self. Actually, I think I would defy anyone not to enjoy this beautiful film.
Sunday 1 June 2008
The Earlybird misses the rain ... almost
After working very late it was a massive struggle to get up early, especially as the forecast suggested rain. I was moving very slowly when young HT called for me. We had made an arrangement, but at only 16, and knowing how my own 16-year-old fares that early in the morning, I was actually rather surprised to see him. The lad is keen! I was the usual few minutes late but we were still in time to meet up with another six riders for a run out to Buckden. El Cid and Cacophony led the group out at a steady cadence but once past Bolton Abbey things started hotting up a bit. As the other strong men like Chills and Stafano got to the front, the pace went up a notch or two, and a real rhythm to the ride began to develop. We were riding into a bit of a northerly so it was good to know that there might be some assistance on the way home. We went around the triangle at Buckden and immediately felt the effect of that bit of help.
On the flat section back to Kettlewell we were shifting at close to 30 mph and there was a palpable buzz in the group. What a feeling this was, snaking at speed through the exquisite upper Wharfe valley, briefly interrupting the peace of a few walkers who were clearly in awe of such a colourful spectacle so early on a Sunday morning. This is where cycling as an activity has a big edge over running. This element of teamwork is unique. Sharing the work, looking after each other on the road, giving signals, moving as one. The whole definitely felt like it was greater than the sum of the parts. Actually, my part seemed to become rather minor as I felt the odd twinge of cramp and was having to work very hard to stay with the pace. Normally strong on the hills, every incline began to hurt and I found myself being shelled out the back. Fortunately, under the leadership of El Cid and Cacophony, there is a strong group ethic, which means that they eased off a bit to let me get back on again.
It was decided that we'd finish the ride going over Langbar. Normally I would relish the prospect but by this time I was in survival mode and was content to just twiddle my way up. Stafano was well up the road ahead of us all, but it was very impressive to see HT reach the top ahead of everybody else. How does he do that at just 16 years old!! I think the lad has some considerable talent! Myself and Gizzajob bring up the rear, somewhat ironically as we both reckon ourselves as natural climbers. I think we just had all the energy ridden out of our legs by the speed merchants! By this time the rain that had been threatening for some while was now upon us, but it was too late in the ride to dampen anything really. HT's computer gave us 54 miles in a shade over 3 hours for an average of 17.9 mph. A fantastic morning's work gentlemen - made all the more satisfying for the fact that the rain consequently set in for the whole day. I'd certainly had a hard ride. I needed to take a power nap before I could get back to work!
On the flat section back to Kettlewell we were shifting at close to 30 mph and there was a palpable buzz in the group. What a feeling this was, snaking at speed through the exquisite upper Wharfe valley, briefly interrupting the peace of a few walkers who were clearly in awe of such a colourful spectacle so early on a Sunday morning. This is where cycling as an activity has a big edge over running. This element of teamwork is unique. Sharing the work, looking after each other on the road, giving signals, moving as one. The whole definitely felt like it was greater than the sum of the parts. Actually, my part seemed to become rather minor as I felt the odd twinge of cramp and was having to work very hard to stay with the pace. Normally strong on the hills, every incline began to hurt and I found myself being shelled out the back. Fortunately, under the leadership of El Cid and Cacophony, there is a strong group ethic, which means that they eased off a bit to let me get back on again.
It was decided that we'd finish the ride going over Langbar. Normally I would relish the prospect but by this time I was in survival mode and was content to just twiddle my way up. Stafano was well up the road ahead of us all, but it was very impressive to see HT reach the top ahead of everybody else. How does he do that at just 16 years old!! I think the lad has some considerable talent! Myself and Gizzajob bring up the rear, somewhat ironically as we both reckon ourselves as natural climbers. I think we just had all the energy ridden out of our legs by the speed merchants! By this time the rain that had been threatening for some while was now upon us, but it was too late in the ride to dampen anything really. HT's computer gave us 54 miles in a shade over 3 hours for an average of 17.9 mph. A fantastic morning's work gentlemen - made all the more satisfying for the fact that the rain consequently set in for the whole day. I'd certainly had a hard ride. I needed to take a power nap before I could get back to work!
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