Another wash-out

It was wonderful to relax yesterday, but I needed to crack on with work today. There is no better way of testing software than using it for real. I found quite a few bugs and spent the best part of the day getting them fixed. Most were fiddly issues which I had left as not essential to sort out for the prototyping stage but now need to be resolved as we are getting closer to full deployment. One of my favourite sayings is that you get 80% of the way in 20% of the time. That last 20% takes five times as long. It's so true.

Took an hour out to watch No.1 son bowl a few overs. Of course, it started to drizzle as soon as he was given the ball, so it wasn't easy for him to grip and extract as much turn as he usually does. At the end of his ten over spell (tight and unlucky not to get a wicket) the rain started coming down more heavily and I retreated for home. And that was it for the afternoon. Another wash-out and another week passes without my lad having a chance to get to the crease. He's barely had a chance to score a single run since that elegant fifty he hit over a month back now. I feel so bad for him.

One run too far?

I somehow managed to sleep in this morning, not waking until after 10am. I never do this! I guess it's a sign that mind and body are running tired. My plan to get some chores out of the way went out of the window, although I did do the essentials of food shopping and laundry before getting out for a run. I thought I'd just get in one last good quality session before winding down towards the Masters. I went out past the Cow and Calf, climbing up just short of the Pancake Stone, then down to the beck and up to the cairn before returning back via White Wells, about 4.5 miles at a good pace, feeling strong and remembering why it is that running will always remain my first love. When you are feeling good and fit there is nothing quite like the exhilarating rhythm of running trails at a pace.

Hatched a plan with M to get out somewhere a little different for a cycle this afternoon. After a quick look at the map I suggested driving to Thirsk and doing a circuit on the west side of the North York Moors. We found a delightful pub in the village of Felixkirk and from there headed to Boltby and Hawnby, from where we were lured onto the moorland road north and west to Osmotherley. The hills were steep and unrelenting, and the countryside incredibly beautiful: secret valleys, woodland, heather-clad hills, ancient byways, immaculately kept villages. It had everything. Having lived in Cheltenham once, I was minded to describe it to M as the Cotswolds of the north. There was the same kind of quintessentially English feel.

From Osmotherley we took a route back that hugged the side of the escarpment. It looked flattish on the map but continued to undulate and offer more incredible countryside and perfect back lanes. The one blot was having to use the A19 trunk road for about half a mile, but even this had the reward of offering us the sight of some major time-trial that was going on. I would guess that it was a big 100 miler from the amazing number of riders spread out, going both ways up and down the dual carriageway. I matched the speed of one rider who came past, just for a short while, but long enough to decide that this branch of the sport holds very little appeal. It's simply gruelling. Head down for hours on end, in a constant stream of heavy traffic. It was great to watch for a while, and the speed of some of the riders simply awesome, but I was very happy to return to the country lanes and head back to Felixkirk via Cowesby and Kirby Knowle. Our route was only 27 miles in total but it felt like a lot further than that in terms of all the hills. It was wonderful to discover such a beautiful little spot so close to home. It took my mind off the fact that I had started to feel a bit of a twinge in the calf during the ride. I'm not sure what to make of it right now, but it isn't quite right and it's in exactly the same spot as where I pulled the muscle a couple of months back. It's tightened up tonight and I'm trying to ignore it at the moment. I'm really hoping that my run this morning wasn't one run too far!

Kettlewell

Found myself struggling to focus this morning, the brain rather fried from five very long and intense days. I was going through the motions really, just tidying up bits and pieces and not making any real progress. Both the lads have things on this weekend so today was really the last opportunity of the holiday to get out with them both, so I suggested a ride and they were up for that.

I decided to first go for a run at lunchtime. With a couple of days off from the running behind me, I was due a quality session. Only the chance of a couple more good efforts now before the World Masters. I decided to run up the Keighley Gate Road to the masts, a route I've not done all year. It's climbing from straight out the door for 2.5 miles. I'm thinking that it won't be too far off the kind of gradient that we'll be experiencing in just 8 days now. So, I set off at a good pace, legs feeling quite strong, and tried to work hard all the way. On the last stretch I could see that a sub-20 minute time was on so I found the energy to raise the pace and got to the top in 19.52. It's hard to remember back to when I was doing this little time-trial on a regular basis, but I think that's a reasonable time. No matter. It's given me a great deal of confidence for the run next week. With so little specific training, I know I'm not going to be as competitive as I would like, but I don't think I'm going to disgrace myself!

Got sucked into watching England pile on the runs against South Africa in the one-day series. Pietersen certainly seems to have the midas touch ... and long may it continue. Waiting to see the end of the England innings, we didn't set off until almost 3pm but I still held a vague notion that we could possibly go to Hawes to allow the boys to 'enjoy' the experience of Fleet Moss. That wasn't to be, though, for No.2 son struggled on the back road through Appletreewick, Hebden, Grassington and Conistone. It seemed to me to be more psychological than physical, but he didn't seem to have the legs. We stopped at the cafe in Kettlewell for a good feed stop and it occurred to me then that perhaps it was just that he hadn't eaten enough through the day. That seemed to be confirmed on the way back. What a difference! He set a good pace all the way home. Indeed we were a whole 20 minutes quicker coming back on the B road, on a route which is only marginally shorter. We had our customary sprint at the golf course, which was just won by junior following my lead-out. No.1 son got caught by the break and gave himself too much to do, but very nearly got us on the line. I was genuinely impressed with them both after 43 miles of fairly hilly bike riding. Winning the sprint put No.2 son in a thoroughly much better mood, and No.1 son was on a great high from just being able to get out and do this ride at all, and enjoy it into the bargain - a prospect that he would have laughed at if suggested just a month or so ago. I've been looking forward to this kind of scenario for years ... and never truly believed it was going to happen. I felt very lucky today to be able to share this kind of experience with my two fit sons. We've even begun to plan a training camp together for the beginning of next year.

The Devil's in the Detail

Despite a very late night and a correspondingly early morning, populating my new data structures for the demonstration today, I have felt surprisingly switched-on. When I have to be on the ball I always seem able to get it together, no matter how tired I feel or little sleep I've had. I was sorting out a new bit of code right up to the moment our visitors arrived, finally getting it working at the very last minute. It seems like such a familiar scenario. It's stressful, but I do love the buzz!

Today was always going to be a rest day so I was reasonably thankful that the drab weather was continuing. We worked right through to the end of the afternoon, trying to understand the details of how the Dutch handle the various aspects of communicable disease control. Although we had received all the information on paper, it's amazing just how much more vital information emerges when you start discussing things around the table. The devil is always in the detail. And I think I can be a little big-headed here and suggest that my success at what I do is down to attention to detail. It's a matter of not settling for something that will simply work, but always trying to do the very best job that you can. If I can see a better way of implementing a certain function, then I cannot rest until I've improved the design, regardless of how many hours of previous work that I have to discard in the process.

Finished the day in Leeds by taking our visitors out for a drink and a meal, and I had such a good time that I stayed later than intended and came back on the very last train. I only spent a few minutes catching up with the guys (not having seen them all day) before I had no choice but to collapse into bed.

Brunthwaite Hill

Another tough day at the computer, now implementing the latest version of this new design. I'm happy that it's going to do the job, and I can show the work to our Dutch visitors tomorrow. They are going to be trialling the software next month in the Netherlands and I had to get this right before meeting them and finalising aspects of the design with them.

I celebrated by hooking up with M to watch No.1 son play cricket for a while, a friendly game where he actually opened the bowling with his off-spin. He delivered a few jaffas and got a wicket with a bad one, to a great catch, but it started to drizzle soon after the start of the innings so it wasn't easy to grip the ball. He really hasn't bowled regularly enough this season to have found any kind of rhythm.

It was decidedly chilly watching the game so just as he finished his spell we set off on the bikes to get warm, cycling into the wind and the rain. Typical summer's day really! M has had another setback with her calf and is now resigned to missing out on the World Masters. She needs some good bike rides to keep her spirits up. We went out via Nesfield to Bolton Bridge, left to Addingham and up the climb of Turner's Lane, then right and left to Swartha to the bottom of the infamous Brunthwaite Hill, exactly a mile in length and an ascent of 600 feet. This was M's introduction to one of my very favourite hills and she climbed well. I found it impossible to resist putting in an effort and was pleasantly surprised to feel very strong. I seemed to arrive at the top very quickly, although I didn't have to go far back down to meet M powering up herself. We then enjoyed a rapid descent back through Addingham Moorside and back to Ilkley with the wind on our backs.

Leeds v Crystal Palace

Spent the whole day, once again, on the system design for this revamped architecture for recording cases of infectious disease. Testing with examples has revealed more complexity and the need to incorporate more flexibility. There is always a balance to be struck between rigour of design and ease of use. Making something logically complete can render it impossible to use. On the other hand, use too simple a design and you lose data integrity. I'm still trying to find the right balance.

Took No.2 son to Elland Road tonight to watch Leeds play Crystal Palace (my childhood team) in what I still call the League Cup, but not before getting out for a run in order to clear my head. Took off at a good pace to Silver Wells, turning just before the Swastika Stone and returning via White Wells, a bit over 4 miles. The legs still felt a little sore from Saturday but I felt strong enough nonetheless. Only left 15 mins between getting back and heading out on the train, enabling me to wind my lad up somewhat with a distinct lack of urgency. He hates that!

I have to admit that I wasn't really up for this tonight. I find it hard to embrace football while the cricket season is still going on, even when the weather is more suitable - which it has for the best part of the whole summer! I was still in systems design mode and spent much of the first half with pen and paper in hand, and only half an eye on the football. However, by the end of the second half I was becoming more and more tuned into the game because Leeds were playing some really good football. And I discovered where my allegiance truly lies these days ... much to the delight of No.2 son. In the end, Leeds ran away rampant 4-0 winners and the margin could easily have been greater. It was an impressive display. If they get a home draw looks like I'll be dragged back to watch the next round. I might actually look forward to that.

Classification of Infectious Disease

Pressure of work has meant that my blog has gone dead for almost two weeks now. If anyone is still visiting, this is just to say that I still hope to keep going. I've been making notes and I will soon take some time to catch up. I've missed my late night e-scribbling, but there has just been too much to do. I've spent the bank holiday almost entirely at the computer, finishing off my new interface for the recording of new cases of infectious disease. It's the hardest design task I think I've ever undertaken. The complexity of the relationships between organisms which can cause many different diseases and diseases which can be caused by many different organisms is astounding. Factor in idiosyncratic naming conventions and historic anomalies and you have this huge mess that has been astonishingly hard to bring order to. But I think I've succeeded. I will find out properly tomorrow when I start populating with the data. I've been evolving this solution over some five years now. I'd love to think that I won't need to work on it much more. It does my head in!

Becoming more sensible!

Back in the thick of it today. Important meeting in the morning, then catching up with all the things that have been going on while I've been away. Some strange bugs have appeared and then disappeared again. There is one that I cannot reproduce at all. I was able to see it for myself this afternoon but not any more. It's never easy dealing with bugs around real-time data. Nothing ever stands still. It's been a very late night trying to get a handle on this, struggling to understand the conditions under which it might occur. It's proving elusive and eventually tiredness has overruled my stubbornness (a couple of hours too late probably), so I've admitted defeat. It's very rare that I'm beaten by a bug this way. I'm normally way too pig-headed to surrender like this, but that's not necessarily commendable. I think I'm becoming more sensible!

Adventure

The weather was as dire today as predicted so I was happy that we made the decision to come home from Wales a day early. My self-discipline might have been wanting in terms of the work I've needed to get done. I've had a secret day at the computer and I'm going to start a difficult week all the more relaxed for getting a lot done. Late in the evening now, I find myself reflecting on sportive routes and thinking that the Devil Ride got it just about right. One of the most appealing apects of this particular route was that it fitted almost perfectly on one single 1:50000 map (Sheet 147: Elan Valley and Builth Wells), turning at the very top and bottom of the map, and at the right edge too, only just going over the left edge for a few miles into Tregaron. It felt like a very natural line and that is important to me somehow. It was a genuine tour. I also think that in terms of enjoyment it is good to get the majority of the climbing in during the first half of the ride. I'd much rather be doing the big hills on fresh legs than on tired ones. Personally speaking, I do these events with the principal intention of enjoying myself. I want the experience to be fun, not an ordeal! Although a little bit of suffering is essential to that feeling of having given one's all, I don't necessarily want hills tacked on to a route for the sake of it. Gratuitous climbs in sportives could be looked upon in the same way as gratuitous violence in films. It's not strictly necessary. More is not always better.

Today the outline route for next year's Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge was released. I was excited to find that it's now going out all the way to Dolgellau and Dinas Mawddwy to tackle the Bwlch y Groes from the hard side. It's a thoroughly daunting prospect after 100 miles of riding, but also appropriate for what is billed as the toughest sportive of them all. I was not so delighted to discover, though, that the Bwlch pen Barrass climb was going to be at the end. It always felt a little contrived to be doing that loop at the beginning and my first thought was that this indeed was a little gratuitous. That was before I read more carefully and realised that this was no longer to be a loop, but the finish. Starting up The Shelf and cutting across to the Horseshoe Pass seems like a much more natural line to take at the beginning, and although it is going to be hell (with those final few climbs from the Devil Ride still fresh in mind, body and spirit), having a hilltop finish would be an amazing spectacle and experience. The thought of that last very steep climb will be haunting us throughout the ride. I can imagine lots of supporters out willing us all to keep pushing the pedals, to ride to the top and finish in style - when every signal the legs are giving out is simply to stop! I can feel the fear from almost a year away! I might now regret saying that I was half disappointed this year when I saw that sign after the Stingers saying five miles to go and all downhill. This is going to be one very serious sting in the tail. I wasn't intending to do the event again next year as I felt the route was just a little too contrived, but as of this moment I find it hard to imagine not putting myself on the line for the challenge. I suppose I have to admit that it's not always about having fun, but overcoming adversity and taking satisfaction from surviving a genuine adventure. It will certainly add an extra incentive to keep the training going through the winter. Should we be thanking Dave ... or cursing him?

The Elan Valley

The plan for today was to share with No.2 son the delights of the Elan Valley. Originally we were going to do a longish but leisurely ride together today, followed by a shorter ride tomorrow. Having seen the horrendous weather forecast for Tuesday, though, we decided to get out first thing in the morning and try to get the ride in before the forecast rain arrived, aiming to head back for home in the afternoon. We left the B&B at 9am, our rucksacks packed and ready to be picked up later. We took a fairly direct line to Rhyader, picking up the A road which follows the Wye Valley, before reversing the Devil Ride route from the previous day, climbing up the ridge and over into the Elan Valley. My lad was a little apprehensive about the climb following a big day out for him yesterday, but he actually had no problem at all. It was good in a way that the road could be seen a long way ahead for it made the sense of achievement that much the greater. He was very full of himself at the top and loved the descent and especially the hairpins down to the bridge at the head of the four reservoirs. The route down the valley was sensational and No.2 son loved the feeling of remoteness and the sheer beauty of this half natural, half man-made landscape. I loved most the fact that he was able to appreciate it so much, far more so I'm sure than if he had just been driven around in a car.

Just before the third dam we were hit by a fairly heavy shower which we could see approaching as a wall of water. Prompted by my son, we had our jackets on before it reached us. The timing was such, though, that I was no longer inclined to take the right turn for the out and back trip to the dam at the bottom of the Claerwen Reservoir, so we just headed back to Rhyader for lunch, although my lad wasn't phased at all by getting wet; indeed, he seemed to rather enjoy it. The rain had stopped by the time we reached the town but it started up again while we were eating. It always seems so much worse when you are inside looking out! We took our time, hoping that it would soon ease off again. Which indeed it did - as soon as we got out of town. We retraced the Devil Ride route here, except that we turned right instead of left to Abbeycwmhir. There was no way I was going to do that climb again! This was a fantastic little stretch of road, gently undulating and No.2 son seemed to get inspired here, setting a good pace, taking a route through all the puddles, spraying as much water around as possible, thoroughly enjoying being a kid. From there we continued to take a mostly minor road route back to the B&B, the rain holding off and allowing us to finish in the dry. My lad flagged a bit at the very end, but after 45 miles he was entitled to that, and it also told me that the length of ride was right. He was quite keen to get back home now. Even if the weather forecast had been good, two hard days out on the bike was probably enough for him. And for me too for that matter.

The Devil Ride

It was good for a change to be not setting the alarm for some ridiculously early hour before doing a Sportive. For once, I felt quite rested when I woke up just before 7am and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with No.2 son and six other people staying at the B&B and riding the event. The bad weather didn't look as if it had quite cleared through, as promised, so there was quite a bit of excitement when a bit of blue sky was spotted just as the toast arrived. It looked like it was going to be a day of showers, which was fine. I don't mind the rain if I know it's not going to last for long.

I said goodbye to No.2 son just before 8am and set off for a gentle 6 mile spin down to Builth Wells for the start of the event. I rather like being able to begin the day straight-away on the bike, and it was fun to see that most of the cars overtaking me on a Sunday morning were fellow Devil Riders. I was actually glad to be on the bike rather than in a car. They were possibly thinking the opposite! Builth Wells was a hive of activity and arriving at the Sports Centre I started to feel that familiar thrill of anticipation I always experience before an event. It was really only last night that I had taken the time to look at the route to see exactly where we were going. It was going to be hard but also very beautiful (if the weather relented to allow us to see the views), and I was really looking forward to exploring some new roads.

Registration was extremely efficient and after my usual bit of faffing around I was on my way at around 8.50am, by which time it seemed that there weren't too many other riders left. The skies remained grey but at least it was dry, and it certainly wasn't cold. I was just wearing a short-sleeved shirt, knowing that the climbing started straight out of the town and I would very soon be warm. It was amazing to see how much in the way of gear many of the other riders were wearing! I have a personal adage that says if you are not feeling just a little chilly before the start of an event then you are wearing too much gear! We headed out due south on the road to Brecon, which was considerably bumpier than I had gleaned from a quick look at the map. It allowed for some spectacular sights in terms of the views to the west, and of the road ahead filled with a seemingly endless stream of riders. My only concern was possibly going a bit too quickly as I continued to catch and pass people. Actually, I did have another slight concern, and that was No.2 son who would be coming this same way in an hour or two. Perhaps I didn't prepare him sufficiently for all these hills. I was tempted to call him but then though better of it. He would be fine.

Turning back on ourselves to Garth, on an even more spectacular piece of road, we got hit by a squally shower, but it wasn't heavy enough to warrant stopping to put a jacket on. It didn't even spoil the ride even, for visibility remained good and somehow the views were even more spectacular for the incredibly dramatic skies. Although there were some very threatening clouds around, it still looked like a day where the rain would be spasmodic rather than persistent. And that's how it proved to be. The rain soon eased and I enjoyed an exhilarating descent back into the Irfon Valley, amidst the most incredibly picturesque hills. There is something very special about the countryside here. It's very different from Upper Wharfedale and Swaledale in my own backyard, the Yorkshire Dales, but has that same kind of unique quality that somehow lies beyond words. It simply has to be soaked up and enjoyed rather than described.

A few miles of respite along an A road to Beulah and then we turned west to head into the hills again, through the most beautifully secluded valley, steep-sided and forested, undulating up and down, this way and that, over a shoulder to Abergeswyn and then opening out when joining the Irfan Valley once more. The road hugged the east side of the valley in spectacular fashion, offering a great view of the Devil's Staircase dead ahead. I felt inspired rather than intimidated. I had to engage the lowest gear almost immediately as the gradient hits you as soon as you cross the river, but although certainly steep, it wasn't desperately hard. It find it impossible to rank these big climbs because so much depends on where they come in the ride. The very steepest of ascents can seem quite reasonable when you are fresh. It's a different matter altogether when you have lots of miles and climbing already in the legs.

The first feedstop was well placed at the top of the climb and, although I really didn't feel that thirsty or hungry, I forced myself to eat and take on water. It then decided to start raining again, heavier than before, so as I was stopped I made the decision to put my windproof on. It was bad timing really because I wasn't able to enjoy the following descent for barely being able to see. The shower didn't last long, though, nor the downhill, because we were soon climbing again. The next section was truly wild and I kept the jacket on in expectation of a long descent to Tregaron, but there was still more climbing to be done before then. I usually feel on these mountain rides that the descents are far longer than I have any right to expect, but this was a counter-example of where the descents seemed shorter than I would have expected based on all the climbing we seemed to be doing. I remember thinking that this ride is tougher than my local Dales events, the Etape du Dales and the White Rose Classic.

Eventually, on the lovely stretch down into Tregaron the sun came out and cued a stop to remove my top. It was never needed again. Turning again and heading north-east we picked up a bit of a tail wind and I really enjoyed a second bit of respite from the relentless climbing. I actually found myself in the unusual position of leading a small group, which gradually increased in size as we overtook lone riders ahead on the road and they latched on. Nobody else seemed inclined to come to the front but I was enjoying the buzz of being there myself too much to mind. Just I was getting to the point where I thought I might be pushing too hard and fancied some help, another group came by and I latched onto them for a fast tow along the rest of this flat section to Pontrhydfendigaid. From there we started climbing and it all broke up again, everyone into their own rhythm, a few quicker than me, a few slower, crossing from one valley into another, this time into the heavily wooded bottom of the Ystwyth at Pontrhydygroes, a beautiful sweeping descent before climbing yet again over into the next valley at Devil's Bridge.

Here, after miles and miles of very little traffic and very few people, we were suddenly squirted out into something of a honey-trap. We were close to civilisation again, only a few miles from Aberystwyth and there were lots of tourists around, presumably being delivered there by the steam railway, the unmistakable sounds of which could be heard from somewhere. I wasn't sure exactly from where for I passed through Devil's Bridge very quickly indeed, concentrating on keeping out of trouble, and then before there was any chance at all to take in the place, I was out the other side and climbing again. The legs were feeling weary now and I was beginning to view the sight of each hill ahead with more and more apprehension. The scenery was still inspiring, and this next section of climb was stunning, with the most dramatically positioned wind-farm I have ever seen. But I was beginning to hurt.

I was grateful to reach the top of the climb at The Arch and enjoy a great descent back into and down the valley of the Ystwyth, knowing that the next feedstation wasn't going to be far away now. I felt the need for food, and, having enjoyed a fair bit of sunshine in the last hour, also needed to top the water bottles up. On the last climb I had vowed I'd take my time over this feed-stop, but once I'd downed a bit of cake and a few crackers I felt the urge to get going again. There is a certain rhythm to these long distance events which somehow demands continuity. The short break had definitely served to energise me, though, and I was able to enjoy the next climb more than the previous one. This next section on the mountain road to Rhyader was every bit as wild and beautiful as I expected it to be. From the top of the climb at the head of the Elan Valley the next four miles was exhilarting, enjoying a tailwind and moving rapidly over one of the most remote stretches of road outside of Scotland.

However, that sense of exhilaration was relatively short-lived as I hit the next climb out of the Elan Valley and over the ridge towards Rhyader. Even with the tailwind I found this very hard. The legs just ran out of steam. I was in survival mode. I think I'd eaten well enough, so I suspect it was just a matter of conditioning and not having done enough quality miles in the previous four weeks. Out of Rhyader there was a lovely flattish section for a few miles before things ramped up again on what would normally be considered a delightful minor road over to Abbeycwmhir, but what in these circumstances could only be thought of as a brute of a climb. If this was at the start of the event, I'd have been up and over without a thought, but coming towards the end, this was tough indeed. I was only barely moving quicker than another rider ahead who was walking. It was only mildly reassuring to know that I wasn't the only one to be suffering.

It's an odd thing that, despite being hardly able to push a pedal on the climbs at this stage, it doesn't seem that hard to maintain a reasonable pace on the flat. Following the descent someone came up from behind and took a tow for a short while, before accelerating past. He had upped the speed considerably, but once on his wheel I was able to stay there for a few miles without too much trouble, before he decided he'd had enough and waved me through to the front again. I couldn't maintain quite the same speed, but I tried and he remained happy to stay on my wheel for a mile or so before accelerating past again - too fast for me to latch on this time, although as it turned out the final feedstop was only a short distance away.

It was actually quite a surprise to hear that there was only 16 miles to go at this point. It felt like it should be more. I couldn't stomach any food other than a few Ritz crackers, but it was probably too late for proper food to provide any real benefit. Beyond a certain point the body seems to turn away from sugary foods towards savoury ones. I'd have killed for a spicy vegetable pasty at that point! The going from there continued to be relatively easy and we soon picked up a "20K to go" sign. A look at the watch revealed that a Gold standard time was there for the taking, something I had given up on when suffering before Rhyader. Trying to remember the map it seemed to me that there couldn't be any more hills so it felt like just a matter of keeping the steady pace going and rolling back into Builth Wells with a big smile on my face.

I should have known there would be a sting in the tail. From Newbridge-on-Wye the route climbed one last time, not much more than 300 feet, but my legs had now gone completely and I was a sorry sight twiddling away in my granny gear, thinking that it would almost certainly be quicker to get off and walk, but knowing that I couldn't possibly suffer that ignominy. I wasn't smiling at this point and I'm not sure I'd have actually been capable of a smile here. A couple of riders came past only going marginally less slowly than me, using some choice language out aloud that I was using privately in my head! Perhaps it helps to give voice to such cursing!!

We eventually hit the turn on to the minor road which would take us back down to Builth Wells, but even this was bumpy with one short steep section to endure. I had not suffered this much in an event all year. But I had also not enjoyed a route more. I know that I did eventually have a huge smile on my face at the finish, getting the gold standard for my age group (6.52) , coming home in 6.43.18, grateful for having been given such a fantastic day out, rewarded with equal amounts joy, suffering and awe at the beauty of the Welsh countryside. The organisation couldn't be faulted. The signage was excellent, leaving no room for any kind of doubt anywhere on the course. A quite superb event from every perspective.

I'd been in touch with No.2 son at times on the mobile and I was very proud of him indeed for having got out a bit earlier than expected, cycling into Builth and doing the first section of the Devil Ride as intended. He had told me that he was on my route and was waiting for me so he could pace me into the finish. That would have been fun, trying to keep up with him over the last few miles, but unfortunately he was waiting on the finishing section of the Little Devil instead of my route, so we missed each other. He did soon join me at the Sports Centre, however, and we found a couple of the people who were staying at our B&B to share in some banter and wax lyrical with about the whole day's experience. It was then just a matter of cycling the 6 miles back to Howey to crash out after what had been a very satisfying day for both of us. My lad had thoroughly enjoyed his Rite of Passage today, and seemed totally full of confidence. Life felt very good that evening as we tucked into a hearty meal at a nearby pub. Days don't get much better than this.

Rites of Passage

I managed to do most of the packing for our trip the previous night, but, with some business stuff to tidy up, there were still some loose ends to sort out in the morning and I was inevitably in a rush to get our 9.10 am train from Ilkley. Whether it's just a weekend away, a week's break, or longer, it's always such a relief to actually begin the journey and know that any more worrying about forgetting stuff is futile.

Travelling on a summer Saturday is not ideal. The train from Leeds to Birmingham was standing room only and No.2 son and I were forced to sit down on the floor next to our bikes. I'd planned to work on this leg of the trip but I guess I wasn't too sorry to have an opportunity to pick up with the novel I started on the trip to Ireland a few weeks back. The forecast rain for today arrived on time and once again I found myself in the situation of being thankful that an event wasn't being held on the day before! By the time we reached Llandrindod Wells the rain had stopped although the weather still looked threatening. We just had a short ride to our B&B, a mile down the road towards Builth, accomodation I felt very lucky to have found at such short notice, with 500 people entered for the Devil Ride, the majority of which would be staying overnight.

After settling in at the B&B the rain swept through again, not heavy, but enough to deter us from getting out for our planned late afternoon ride. No.2 son didn't seem to mind. I think he was quite happy to chill and plan with me his route for tomorrow. This was going to be something of a Rite of Passage for him. I'd done the same thing with my two much younger brothers at the same kind of age: throwing them in at the deep end, confident in their ability to look after themselves and knowing that they would feel a strong sense of achievement from being self-reliant. I gave him the map and suggested that he follow the first southern section of the Devil Ride, then finishing along the route of the Little Devil. If he watched the Women's Road Race from the Olympics first, then he'd probably not have long to wait before I finished my ride. He seemed happy with that plan and actually very excited about what was going to be quite an adventure for him. It is odd, though, that for my generation, and for the previous one almost more so, kids of fourteen were far more adventurous than they are now. For all their precocity in many areas of life, young people don't seem to have quite the same curiosity about the world as I remember having at that age.

We enjoyed a very good meal in the pub in the village just down from where we were staying at Holly Farm, Howey, and it was wonderful to be able to share this one-on-one with my youngest. His obvious enthusiasm for his ride tomorrow made me feel that I'd made the right decision about this trip. My only fear was him getting a puncture or suffering a mechanical of some kind. But kids of his age have always had to deal with this sort of thing. He'd cope somehow. It would be part of the experience. I told myself that he'd be fine! I'm sure my parents never worried like this. Or perhaps they did but they never let on. I shall have to ask my mum!

Choices and Consequences

I've had difficult choices to make around this coming weekend and, apart from not being sure I've made the right decision even, I know I've not gone about in the best way. It's caused a bit of grief all around and I'm left with a stodgy head from thinking about it too much. The upshot is, though, that I'm off tomorrow with No.2 son for a few days cycling in Wales, including the Devil Ride for me on the Sunday. I need to do some important documentation on the software so I'm having to take the laptop with me. My boy is taking his too, so we'll be mixing some time on the bikes with some time at the computer, me writing, him playing. He's really excited about going away and having me to himself. I feel rather ashamed that we've never done this before. But this is a good time. He seems really keen to get lots of miles and hills in - and also enthusiastic about planning a ride of his own while I'm doing the event. I have to admit that after missing the Ryedale Rumble and the Pendle Pedal these last two weekends I've been developing sportive withdrawal symptoms! I've chosen, to some extent, to put my needs first to do this event, and I've had to deal with the consequences of that today. It's not been easy and I'm still beating myself up over it. Once we get the maps out on the train tomorrow morning I'm hoping my head will clear and get filled with anticipation. I adore the hills of Central Wales and I think it's over 10 years since I was last there when I did the Autumn Polaris with my good friend MO (Note to myself that I really must find his number and catch up. It's been years). We enjoyed the scenery and the riding so much that we deliberately decided to extend the ride and so failed by a considerable margin to make the time limit- thereby losing all our points to penalties!

Reaching my limit with work, I finished up a couple of hours early and went out with both the boys to Burnsall and back this afternoon. No.1 son is really getting into the cycling now and he had no qualms about leaving the test match with new captain Pietersen on 84 not out in order to go out on the bike. It was a reasonably good-paced ride too. No.1 son is getting fit rather quickly! He seems definitely up for some longer rides now he knows that 25 miles is comfortable.

This was my last chance for a run for a few days so I took the opportunity to get out on the moor soon after returning from our bike ride. I ran up to the cairn via White Wells and enjoyed a circuitous return. Like Wednesday, I felt good, with a bit of zip in the legs, and I had to concentrate in order to stop myself from going quicker than I felt I should. It was great to be running at a healthy pace and still be having to rein myself in! I think I'd forgotten just how good it feels to run when your legs are fresh and free from niggles. The tightness felt on Wednesday evening has gone and I've felt nothing further tonight. I'm feeling more and more optimistic that I will be racing again soon.

Bug Blitz

I made good progress with the software late into last night and the early hours of this morning. I've felt very tired today, but I've been fuelled by being able to regularly tick things off my mental list. Lots of problems fixed with the software, while at the same time doing some essential housekeeping and applying a bit of polish. The application feels more and more robust, as well as looking good at the same time!

It was another overcast, but warm and close day, with no breeze to move the heavy air. It would have been a great day for a bike ride, but there was no time for that until the evening, when, as if on cue with my arrival back from the office, the storm clouds appeared and rain set in for the night. In a way, I didn't mind too much because I was on quite a roll with the software. I do really enjoy it when I'm programming and being productive. I've had quite a blitz on many little bugs today. It's been very satisfying, and my head is clearer for being able to see the way forward now I've hacked down a lot of the undergrowth! The next week or so doesn't appear so overwhelming now.

A Runner Again!

Still felt completely frazzled today. There are too many things to sort out, too many things demanding my attention. I seem to be spending most of my time working out the priorities rather than just cracking down and actually solving the problems. Things improved at lunchtime when I forced myself to get out for a run. And this was definitely running rather than the jogging I've been doing up until this last weekend. I did 6 laps around the Millennium Gardens, the route I used to take my gang of Wharfedale Juniors around a few years back. I did efforts going up on the track and recovery back down on the grass, and it felt wonderful to be able to extend myself a little. It was also wonderful to feel like there was more to come if I wanted. I'm still being very cautious so I held back a little and followed the circuits with a steady run up past White Wells, through Rocky Valley and back home via the Tarn, dripping with sweat because it was a very warm and muggy day. I was out for 45 minutes in total and it was the greatest joy to have that freedom to run again, and feel good. This was the first time in getting on for two months when I've felt like a runner. I'm not ready yet to give this feeling up. I've now got to make sure that I keep the progress steady and not get carried away. I've felt just a little bit of tightness since so that's a reminder that I'm not out of the woods completely.

Overwhelmed

After a very chilled weekend in the Lakes and a peaceful day of core programming yesterday, reality struck back hard again today with issues on our live systems and some difficult decisions to be made. Trying to plan the next couple of weeks, there just seems to be too many things that absolutely have to be done to fit in with all the things I want to do in that time. Something has to give and it's been very stressful trying to find the right compromises.

After a lovely start to the morning, the rest of the day has been grey, wet and very uninspiring - so it has been easy to take a rest day today. With bugs to fix I ended up working until late, meaning that there still hasn't been any time to catch up on my missing blog entries. I'm leaving placeholders and hope I can find the time soon.

Barden Bridge

Grizedale Forest

Coniston Water

Burnt Out