It's the third week of the challenge and as the running starts to settle into the daily routine, I thought it about time that I recorded the current state of play, discuss the pros and cons of running every day and the specific issues that come into play as the weeks pass.
I have just ran the daily minimum of 5k so far. Over stretching myself in distance terms is potentially the biggest threat to completing the challenge. There will be plenty of time in the coming months to increase the mileage with possibly a longer weekend run if the local trails dry out. That does not mean to say that I've been taking it easy as I did my second fastest ever 5k at the Peterborough Parkrun last Saturday at 23:17. Considering that I did not go 100% as I was mindful of the challenge and got held up in traffic due to not starting near enough to the front, I'm very happy with that.
I don't recall ever being able to run more than 20 miles in a week. When I tried it in the 80s, I always ended up with an injury that meant I didn't run the next week. So it was with some trepidation that I started off the first week. I was still suffering from a minor niggle or two so it was a case of "gently does it" for the first few days. As the days and weeks have passed the concern has lifted although niggles come and go, there are no major issues to report.
Apart from the Parkrun and a Frosty 5k event at Wicksteeds Park, all my runs have been on the same route, out and back on a bridleway off the village green. This is mainly due to the fact that my best running routes are at Stanwick Lakes but the route there and back is currently very muddy due to the recent regular rainfall. The shortest loop through the lakes is around 7k so going that way will involve some higher mileages.
I have, more or less, kept to my own advice with regard to pacing myself, taking each run as it comes and not trying to do a particular pace or run to a schedule. If I've ran faster it's because my legs said they were happy with it. Apart from the Parkrun when it all gets a bit competitive but that's all part of the fun.
Tanya has ran with me on a couple of days. It's been great to have some company and I don't mind slowing a little to her pace as I will have plenty of opportunities for faster runs in the coming months. Tanya seems to have benefited from the runs as she managed a PB at the Peterborough Parkrun.
I'm still trying to keep up with riding the bike on the turbo-trainer. I'm still doing 4-5 hours a week on Zwift, usually in the afternoons. I find that the spinning of the legs is great at loosening up any tight muscles. I've had to ease up a bit in the races though as a full bore effort of an hour or so can leave me feeling very tired.
I'm still feeling motivated to get this done. I actually look forward to my runs first thing in the morning. I've integrated them into my daily routine: Cup of tea, running kit on, warm-up, out the door, run, shower, breakfast and into the day as normal if not a bit later. It helps being between jobs at the moment.
Pros:
I am getting fitter. Not necessarily faster but I am getting the same pace at a lower heart rate than I was at the start. That should translate into a faster pace at some time.
It's good for my state of mind. Winter is always a bad time for my head, particularly if work is light. If I wasn't doing this then things would be pretty bleak.
My weight is coming down. After bringing my weight down with a very active summer, it had started to creep back up a little. Since the start of the challenge that has now reversed and I'm back at my target weight.
Cons:
My left calf/ankle is still not right. No worse but no better. It is something that I can live with as it does not hurt during running, just evenings after sitting for a while and first thing in the morning. I say it does not hurt during running but I can feel it at times and it may be holding back the effort.
I am tired most of the time. Not really surprising on approx. 8 hours a week of hard exercise but that goes with the territory.
Issues:
I wrote this heading when I started writing this blog. Now I've got to it, I can't think of anything to write. That must be good?
UPDATE
It's now week 4 and I am unable to continue the challenge. Jumped over a puddle on the 22nd and minutes later, at the end of the run, my right calf started to tighten up. Next morning the calf felt tight at the start of the run and got worse for a mile or so and then the usual sudden sharp pain as though I had been stabbed in the calf. I had to stop running and limped back home.
So that's the end of that. Interesting challenge but not one that I can do with my running legs in their current condition. The value of rest days cannot be overstated.
Wednesday 18 December 2019
Tuesday 3 December 2019
RED Winter 2019-20 Challenge - Run at least 5k every day, December-February - Week 1
At the start of 2019, I set myself a challenge to do a physical activity every day. This came about due to the inspirational efforts of all-round good egg Steve Burton who ran every day throughout 2018. At the start of the year, I had only just completed Couch to 5k so just running was not an option. So it is a case of cycling, running, swimming or occasionally walking every day.
11 months completed successfully and I'm already onto the next challenge which is to run at least 5k every day, December-February, as a consequence of an invite from Steve to join him on his latest escapade.
I started building up the running miles and running consecutive days over the last few weeks in preparation and on Sunday 1st December started off with a moderately paced (for me) 5k run on a farm track out of the village and back. On Monday the 2nd, same again but at an easy pace which gave me time to think about how I was going to keep motivated and injury free over the next 3 months. I was happy with my fitness to handle a 1/2 hour run every day but not mentally prepared for 90 consecutive days of doing the same thing. Also injury avoidance will be crucial to complete the challenge. So I had a long think during the run and most the rest of the day about how I'm going to try to get through it and, if possible, improve my running pace along the way.
I'm writing this down for my benefit but also hope that it may benefit others undertaking the challenge. So here goes:
Fitness
I'm quite fit for a 62 year old and have been doing over an hour a day of moderate exercise all year, so fitness is not an issue for me. If I was not in this situation I probably would not undertake such a challenge but for anyone crazy enough I can only advise them to take it very easy at first, run-walk to start with, running further and walking less as you get fitter and then eventually running the full distance. Avoiding injury could be your biggest challenge. If you feel a muscle tightening up the slow down or even stop. Trying to run through pain could mean you may not be able to run the next day. You will get some niggles along the way, that's inevitable. Ibruprofen gels and Dr Google are my best friends.
Pace
Don't try to run too fast too early. When I used to run in the 80s, I was disappointed if I did not PB or extend my longest run. Every run was judged on distance and pace. These days I judge my runs on time and effort, I still time the runs and analyse the results, but I am as happy if I can get round the 5k in half an hour with a max heart-rate of 130bpm as doing it in 25 minutes and hitting 150 bpm. Every run, irrespective of pace, is a building block to your objective whether that be a race or just finding it easier and more enjoyable.
I try not to pre-plan my runs apart from the route. I do a simple set of dynamic exercises before each run, go out the house, start the watch and set off on the run. Within a few strides my legs give me feedback on what I can expect from them and I settle into a steady, comfortable pace. My usual run is uphill for a bit and that then gives me feedback on my current fitness level and how I should run on the day. It's probably not until I've ran the first mile and I'm on the second hill that I decide how I'm going to run the rest of it. The point I'm trying to make is that you should let your body tell you what it can do rather than you trying to force it to do something it's not ready for. That way you should avoid fatigue and get the most out of your runs. I do not agree with training plans that say you should do this and that on certain days. They are generally counter-productive unless you are a competing athlete. I find that a single hard, fast paced run once a week is enough to bring about an improvement but just let it happen, don't force it.
Motivation
OK, so we can handle the physical side of things, what about the mental aspects? Running 5k every day for 3 months is a mental challenge, particularly if it is on the same route every day. How do we keep motivated?
On my 2019 challenge, I've written a short report on Facebook at the end of each month. Initially lots of positive comments and feedback that provided some motivation. As the months have gone on, the comments have stopped and I'm now getting just likes. If we rely on our peers to motivate us then my experience is that they get bored and from the initial "Well done, keep it up" you end up with "You still doing that?".
My motivation now comes from self imposed targets. I initially took up running in order to do a Triathlon, unfinished business from the 80s. See my last blog for more details. My latest target that provides the current motivation is to do a half-marathon in 1:34 which was my previous PB. That works out at about a 22 minute 5k pace but for 21k. I've got a long way to go but as long as I see improvements it may still be within reach.
The other way to keep it interesting is to mix it up a bit. I've got 2 possible 5k routes from the house although one of them is rather soggy at the moment. I've also got a number of longer routes if my legs are up to it. I also plan to do Parkruns on a Saturday and I've got a number of 5k and 10k events planned. With the events every couple of weeks or so, I can break the 3 months down into chunks of training finishing in a race. I use the word "training" but I don't mean in a structured way, similarly I view a "race" as an opportunity to go for a PB if your body is willing. A number on your chest and running with other people, (racing-if you like) is the best way to run faster.
Enjoyment
Lastly, just try and enjoy the runs. You rarely see a runner smile because it is not easy. So, on the easier runs just enjoy being outdoors. Its all too easy to just look at the path in front. Make an effort to look about you. I run in open countryside and love to spot wildlife. I have regular one-way conversations with Red-Kites that circle above me waiting for me to collapse so they can pick at my corpse. I see squirrels, hares, pheasants and the occasional deer.
I even talk to trees. Not just any tree but special ones. I might just be mad, but then would a sane person take up this challenge :)
11 months completed successfully and I'm already onto the next challenge which is to run at least 5k every day, December-February, as a consequence of an invite from Steve to join him on his latest escapade.
I started building up the running miles and running consecutive days over the last few weeks in preparation and on Sunday 1st December started off with a moderately paced (for me) 5k run on a farm track out of the village and back. On Monday the 2nd, same again but at an easy pace which gave me time to think about how I was going to keep motivated and injury free over the next 3 months. I was happy with my fitness to handle a 1/2 hour run every day but not mentally prepared for 90 consecutive days of doing the same thing. Also injury avoidance will be crucial to complete the challenge. So I had a long think during the run and most the rest of the day about how I'm going to try to get through it and, if possible, improve my running pace along the way.
I'm writing this down for my benefit but also hope that it may benefit others undertaking the challenge. So here goes:
Fitness
I'm quite fit for a 62 year old and have been doing over an hour a day of moderate exercise all year, so fitness is not an issue for me. If I was not in this situation I probably would not undertake such a challenge but for anyone crazy enough I can only advise them to take it very easy at first, run-walk to start with, running further and walking less as you get fitter and then eventually running the full distance. Avoiding injury could be your biggest challenge. If you feel a muscle tightening up the slow down or even stop. Trying to run through pain could mean you may not be able to run the next day. You will get some niggles along the way, that's inevitable. Ibruprofen gels and Dr Google are my best friends.
Pace
Don't try to run too fast too early. When I used to run in the 80s, I was disappointed if I did not PB or extend my longest run. Every run was judged on distance and pace. These days I judge my runs on time and effort, I still time the runs and analyse the results, but I am as happy if I can get round the 5k in half an hour with a max heart-rate of 130bpm as doing it in 25 minutes and hitting 150 bpm. Every run, irrespective of pace, is a building block to your objective whether that be a race or just finding it easier and more enjoyable.
I try not to pre-plan my runs apart from the route. I do a simple set of dynamic exercises before each run, go out the house, start the watch and set off on the run. Within a few strides my legs give me feedback on what I can expect from them and I settle into a steady, comfortable pace. My usual run is uphill for a bit and that then gives me feedback on my current fitness level and how I should run on the day. It's probably not until I've ran the first mile and I'm on the second hill that I decide how I'm going to run the rest of it. The point I'm trying to make is that you should let your body tell you what it can do rather than you trying to force it to do something it's not ready for. That way you should avoid fatigue and get the most out of your runs. I do not agree with training plans that say you should do this and that on certain days. They are generally counter-productive unless you are a competing athlete. I find that a single hard, fast paced run once a week is enough to bring about an improvement but just let it happen, don't force it.
Motivation
OK, so we can handle the physical side of things, what about the mental aspects? Running 5k every day for 3 months is a mental challenge, particularly if it is on the same route every day. How do we keep motivated?
On my 2019 challenge, I've written a short report on Facebook at the end of each month. Initially lots of positive comments and feedback that provided some motivation. As the months have gone on, the comments have stopped and I'm now getting just likes. If we rely on our peers to motivate us then my experience is that they get bored and from the initial "Well done, keep it up" you end up with "You still doing that?".
My motivation now comes from self imposed targets. I initially took up running in order to do a Triathlon, unfinished business from the 80s. See my last blog for more details. My latest target that provides the current motivation is to do a half-marathon in 1:34 which was my previous PB. That works out at about a 22 minute 5k pace but for 21k. I've got a long way to go but as long as I see improvements it may still be within reach.
The other way to keep it interesting is to mix it up a bit. I've got 2 possible 5k routes from the house although one of them is rather soggy at the moment. I've also got a number of longer routes if my legs are up to it. I also plan to do Parkruns on a Saturday and I've got a number of 5k and 10k events planned. With the events every couple of weeks or so, I can break the 3 months down into chunks of training finishing in a race. I use the word "training" but I don't mean in a structured way, similarly I view a "race" as an opportunity to go for a PB if your body is willing. A number on your chest and running with other people, (racing-if you like) is the best way to run faster.
Enjoyment
Lastly, just try and enjoy the runs. You rarely see a runner smile because it is not easy. So, on the easier runs just enjoy being outdoors. Its all too easy to just look at the path in front. Make an effort to look about you. I run in open countryside and love to spot wildlife. I have regular one-way conversations with Red-Kites that circle above me waiting for me to collapse so they can pick at my corpse. I see squirrels, hares, pheasants and the occasional deer.
I even talk to trees. Not just any tree but special ones. I might just be mad, but then would a sane person take up this challenge :)
Monday 9 September 2019
Daventry Triathlon 2019
I'm not feeling too well this morning. Not that it's unexpected but it could have been prevented but sometimes you just have to stick to the plan and deal with the consequences. Yesterday, I competed in my first triathlon in 32 years despite having a head cold but I did it anyway knowing that it would delay my recovery by a few days.
I first competed in a triathlon in August 1987 with my second a few weeks later. Part of a series held at a pool in Biggleswade. Something to do with Bill Jordan of Jordans Cereals who was heavily involved in the running scene around Bedford back then. The event was close to what would now be called a Sprint Triathlon: 400m pool swim, 25km ride and a 6km run (I think, but memory is a bit vague on the specifics). I did OK finishing 32nd out of 67 starters.
For a long time this was the pinnacle of my sporting achievements. I'm not a team player so I never excelled at most sports but I could run and swim OK, representing school at cross country and doing well in the school swimming gala. In the mid 80s I was working in an office with lads of a similar age and one or two had been bitten by the jogging bug so there was lots of talk about running. At the same time my late father-in-law had taken up running with the intention of running a half marathon. Unsurprisingly I was drawn towards the activity and it was not long before I was running several half-marathons a year.
The problem for me was the training caused continual injury and I struggled to get any decent weekly mileage in without ending up hobbling through day-to-day life. One of the lads in the office suggested that I get a bike to improve my fitness and he just happened to have a suitable frame for sale. A few visits to Halfords for parts and I had a working bike. Just 5 gears and weighed a ton but it did what was needed. By 1986 I had a half-marathon PB of 1:34.
Triathlon was very much in its infancy back then but when a local event came about I brushed up my swimming and put in some serious training, often riding the 20 miles to and from work, swimming at lunchtime and running in the evening, all in the same day! I remember getting very tired but I felt really good on it.
So I did the 2 triathlons in late 1987 and then my professional world turned upside down when the opportunity to start a business with a number of my work mates came about. The consequences of that, the stress and demands on my time brought about the end of my active life. Irritable Bowel Syndrome set in and I could no longer run or cycle.
Fast forward to 2011, I tried to walk up Alpe d'Huez to watch the Tour de France. I did not make it half way. Unfit, overweight, suffering from IBS driven by stress/anxiety and depression. My long-suffering wife Tanya decided it was time to do something about it and by 2012 we were cycling regularly, the weight was coming down, the IBS was in retreat and I was feeling a lot better.
Cycling is great, I made loads of new friends, it keeps me fit and healthy and gives my life a focus as I purposely retreat from my professional life and edge towards retirement. We now ride with several groups and people come and go so there is always something fresh to maintain the interest, but cycling round in the same circles has its limits.
In 2017, as I turned 60 I decided that as I was 30 when I did those triathlons, by some weird logic, it was time to give it another go. I bought some running shoes, ran once but that was it for a while as Tanya and I both qualified to ride in the UCI Gran Fondo World Championships so cycling in bigger circles at a faster pace became our priority. We had a great time competing in the Worlds in Albi, France so, subsequently we attempted to qualify again in 2018. I was unsuccessful but Tanya qualified and competed in Varese, Italy.
The 2019 Worlds was in Poland which we did not feel compelled to go for so in September 2018, on our return from Varese, I picked up the running shoes again with the intention of competing in a triathlon. Tanya and I both embarked on the Couch to 5k running program. Although by this point we were both very fit for our age, as any cyclist attempting to run will tell you, it is very difficult to run without doing yourself some damage, mainly due to the imbalance in the leg muscle groups caused by the cycling. After a number of restarts following calf/achilles/ham-string injuries I managed 5k without stopping by the end of the year. I did my first parkrun on 5th January in 26:51. On 31st August, I did my eighth parkun in 23:00. I still get a few niggles if I run longer distances but progress has so far been good. Can I do a half marathon in 1:34 again? Maybe, time will tell.
Tanya's progress with the running has not been so good, suffering from recurring injury to her upper ham-string tendons below her sit-bones. So the decision to enter a specific triathlon was on hold for a while. However, after a few weeks of little running and a gentle restart things were improving.
Just 2 weeks ago, we realised that we could enter a local pool based triathlon without having to sell body parts to fund it. Open water swim triathlons are quite expensive and then there's the added cost of a wet suit which would only get a single use if we did not like it. So without further hesitation we entered the Viridian Daventry Triathlon. The event was sprint distance: 400m pool swim, 20km ride and 5km run. So we paid the entry fee, ordered cheap tri-suits and running belts and then started to think about the logistics.
Final training involved a single swim as I had not swam since holiday in late July, dropped my running distances to avoid injury and carried on as normal with the cycling round in small circles at a high pace.
All was well until Wednesday last week. Did the evening Gorilla pub-ride which these days involves a mid-ride segment competition. By the end of the evening I had a sore throat, nothing unusual in that I thought, just the normal "segment cough".Thursday morning my throat was still sore, not segment cough but the onset of a cold. Bugger! Managed to get a gentle 5k run in first thing, but Friday through Saturday I was nursing a head cold. I made a decision fairly early on that I would do the triathlon as long as the cold did not move to my chest or turn into a viral infection. With rest and mild medication I was feeling better. Nothing to stop me now.
The big difference between a running or cycling event and a triathlon is the logistics of getting all the kit ready in the right place so that the transitions between the disciplines is carried out as efficiently as possible. So it is quite a challenge to bring it all together and get it to the event. Numerous scribblings on various bits of paper, lots of head scratching and thinking through the event in our heads took up a lot of our time. The book "Dare to Tri" by Louise Minchin was a great help as it lists the kit and discusses the options.
Registration for the event was possible on Saturday afternoon plus they were holding a briefing session for newcomers afterwards, so we popped over, took the opportunity to recce the run start and finish on foot, followed by a drive round the bike loop in the car. That took a lot of the stress away. Just a matter of returning in the morning to do the event.
We were up at 5:30am on race day. The day dawned dry and bright with little wind, great except the temperature was only 4 degrees! So, I've got a cold and I'm supposed to get out of a warm swimming pool and run 200m to my bike in my wet tri-suit in near freezing temperatures, jump on the bike, still wet and hammer my lungs! I packed an extra jersey and a towel to make sure that I was going to be as dry and warm as possible at the start of the bike leg.
To be honest, I felt really strange when I got up. Sort of divorced from what was happening, going through the motions and not over-thinking everything which is my norm. It was just the effects of my head cold but it was quite relaxing in a strange way. I had one job to do and that was it, just get one with it.
We packed the car with all the kit, put the bikes on the carrier and off we went. Luckily we got a space in the car park adjacent to the transition area which meant we had a bit more time to set up and familiarise ourselves with the layout of the transition. We returned to registration to get numbers written on our arms and legs and attend a safety briefing. Lots of nervous chatter going on around me but the fog in my end was shutting it out, nice.
Back to the bike to strip off and a last arrangement of the bike and kit. Luckily the lockers at the pool were available, so I could wear flip-flops and a sweatshirt over my tri-suit and deposit them in a locker for retrieval later. Then back to the pool for the start.
Due to Tanya's far superior swimming capabilities, she was scheduled to start an hour after me as the fastest swimmer goes last. So throughout my prep Tanya tagged along and assisted which was good considering the state of my head. I think it also helped Tanya as a dry run for her prep.
Back at the pool, we were assembled into groups of six, predetermined by our race numbers. One of us for each lane of the pool, each fitted with an ankle tag containing a timing chip, ASBO style, and given a specific colour swimming cap. Then into the pool with 30 seconds to go to the designated start time. A quick head under to acclimatise myself, fit my goggles and before I was really ready the whistle went and we were off.
To record my activities I was using my Garmin Forerunner Watch for the swim and run and my Garmin Edge 800 for the bike leg. Chest heart rate monitors seemed wrong and not sure they work after submersion, so I set my watch to broadcast my heart rate so that the Garmin 800 would display it as normal on the bike leg. Good in theory, if you remember to press start. So I set about the swim, the tedious process of staring at the pool floor and trying to count the lengths as you turn. After a couple of lengths I realised I had not pressed start on my Forerunner. Dohh. At least the ASBO tag will give me a time. So nice steady pace, not too hard but pushing nonetheless.
There was one other swimmer in my lane at the start, a young lass, and it was obvious that she was struggling because she had been stopping every couple of lengths before I got in. She had started 4 minutes before me in the previous wave, but inevitably it was not long before I caught her up. We had been instructed to tap the feet of the swimmer in front if we wished to pass. So a couple of taps, she stopped at the next turn and I passed. I was conscious of another swimmer joining the lane half way through but did not have to pass anyone else.
At the end of each lane was a "lap counter". Not a sophisticated electronic device but a real person with a clipboard ticking off each length for each swimmer. Quite a busy and responsible job but my lap counter was great, offering encouragement and support every couple of lengths. After 14 lengths, he put a board down to indicate that I had just a couple of lengths to go. Usually I struggle to concentrate enough to count lengths in the pool but today I managed it OK. I suppose my head fog let me concentrate better.
My wave consisted of 3 women and another guy of my age. There was supposed to be a third guy but I did not see him. Two of the girls were big and powerful looking and the guy just mentioned that he once ran a marathon in 2:35. We all got out of the pool at around the same time. I was first out by a few seconds and the others not far behind.
The exit out the pool was through an emergency exit that let out to the street via a few steps and a 180 turn. So quick walk to the door, down the steps round the corner and onto what had previously been described as carpet, but looked more like a bit of blue damp-proof plastic. It looked just like one of those kiddies water slides you put on the lawn and wet with a hose, slippy as hell. It wasn't slippy but took me some time to get confidence to run on it in which time, the rest of my wave had ran past me.
I took my time in transition, dried my self off best I could, slipped on the jersey and the rest of my kit un-racked the bike, switched on the Garmin and made my way to the bike leg start line. I walked with the bike but I could see that others were trying to run in cleats with potentially disastrous consequences. I got some odd looks at the start line from the officials. They were not used to my nonchalant approach. Walked over the line got on the bike, pressed start this time and set off. It was only 7 degrees when I started the ride but I don't recall feeling particularly cold at any point. Given my normal rules of 3 layers if the temperature is below 10 degrees this surprised me.
By the time I got on the bike the rest of my wave were out of sight and out of mind. I was just doing this at my pace. Once I had navigated a couple of roundabouts I worked to bring the heart rate up. The course took us straight into a hill that went on for several miles with a few flats along the way, just what I like. By the time I got to the top of the hill I had passed all of the other in my wave. So I just set about maintaining a constant effort. I soon realised that my heart rate was not registering on the Garmin as the watch had gone to sleep. Set the watch recording and the display came back. I struggled to read it though with bright sunlight on the screen. Occasionally I could see that I was rolling in the high 140s, low 150s. Spot on, but I really rode the whole leg on perceived exertion rather than anything else.
The route went north out of Daventry then cut west across to the A45 main road and back into town. Not a lot of traffic. Rolled back into town, dealt with a few roundabouts, over the line, stopped the Garmin, walked back to my bike rack location. Took off my cycling kit, put my running shoes on and walked out of transition to the run start line.
The last time I did a triathlon in the 80s, the cycle to run transitions were hellish. Your legs felt they belonged to someone else and took ages to get going. None of that this time, straight into the run at a steady pace.
I'm used to running parkrun 5k at a decent pace but I rely very much on the runners around me to set the pace. At a Kettering parkrun I start about 60 runners back from the front as that is where I expect to finish. I use other runners to judge pace. This time I was mainly on my own. I passed a few slower runners but no one overtook me. The watch was giving me mile splits showing I was running around 8 minute miles which was good enough. I tired a bit in the last mile with the effects of my cold finally saying "you've done enough" but held on for a good show over the line, not a sprint but sharp.
I was genuinely surprised at how well my body had coped, given my health but no feeling of over-exhaustion, just straight into elation which normally takes about 5-10 minutes after a hard time-trial or mountain climb.
I went back to transition, put on a few layers, cheered Tanya on at her bike-run transition and again at the finish. Packed up our kit, took the bikes back to the car and drove home for some much needed food. Fell asleep watching the Tour of Britain on the TV in the afternoon, so I must have been a bit tired.
Right results, I thought I might manage 1:15 but in the end it was 1:20:29 which I am more than happy with for my first attempt as it was really a matter of getting used to the triathlon than setting a best time. Tanya did exceedingly well with a 1:21:48, her swimming pace and quick transitions really paid off. I was third in the 60-69 age group, but Tanya was first in her 50-59 age group - amazing.
Making a comparison with my earlier attempts in the 80s, I think the times are comparable. Slower in the swim, faster on the bike and much the same on the run. With a little bit of work, I think that I can improve on my times, particularly the swim.
We'll definitely have another go and I've put a wet suit on my Christmas present wish list so that we can enter open water swim events.
It's now mid afternnon as I finish this blog. Still a bit groggy but no lasting damage. Bring on the next one. Can't wait.
As a footnote, I would like to say that the event was very well organised. Rugby Triathlon Club did an awesome job, very professional, lots of knowledgeable people to help and great marshaling. Well done.
I first competed in a triathlon in August 1987 with my second a few weeks later. Part of a series held at a pool in Biggleswade. Something to do with Bill Jordan of Jordans Cereals who was heavily involved in the running scene around Bedford back then. The event was close to what would now be called a Sprint Triathlon: 400m pool swim, 25km ride and a 6km run (I think, but memory is a bit vague on the specifics). I did OK finishing 32nd out of 67 starters.
For a long time this was the pinnacle of my sporting achievements. I'm not a team player so I never excelled at most sports but I could run and swim OK, representing school at cross country and doing well in the school swimming gala. In the mid 80s I was working in an office with lads of a similar age and one or two had been bitten by the jogging bug so there was lots of talk about running. At the same time my late father-in-law had taken up running with the intention of running a half marathon. Unsurprisingly I was drawn towards the activity and it was not long before I was running several half-marathons a year.
The problem for me was the training caused continual injury and I struggled to get any decent weekly mileage in without ending up hobbling through day-to-day life. One of the lads in the office suggested that I get a bike to improve my fitness and he just happened to have a suitable frame for sale. A few visits to Halfords for parts and I had a working bike. Just 5 gears and weighed a ton but it did what was needed. By 1986 I had a half-marathon PB of 1:34.
Triathlon was very much in its infancy back then but when a local event came about I brushed up my swimming and put in some serious training, often riding the 20 miles to and from work, swimming at lunchtime and running in the evening, all in the same day! I remember getting very tired but I felt really good on it.
So I did the 2 triathlons in late 1987 and then my professional world turned upside down when the opportunity to start a business with a number of my work mates came about. The consequences of that, the stress and demands on my time brought about the end of my active life. Irritable Bowel Syndrome set in and I could no longer run or cycle.
Fast forward to 2011, I tried to walk up Alpe d'Huez to watch the Tour de France. I did not make it half way. Unfit, overweight, suffering from IBS driven by stress/anxiety and depression. My long-suffering wife Tanya decided it was time to do something about it and by 2012 we were cycling regularly, the weight was coming down, the IBS was in retreat and I was feeling a lot better.
Cycling is great, I made loads of new friends, it keeps me fit and healthy and gives my life a focus as I purposely retreat from my professional life and edge towards retirement. We now ride with several groups and people come and go so there is always something fresh to maintain the interest, but cycling round in the same circles has its limits.
In 2017, as I turned 60 I decided that as I was 30 when I did those triathlons, by some weird logic, it was time to give it another go. I bought some running shoes, ran once but that was it for a while as Tanya and I both qualified to ride in the UCI Gran Fondo World Championships so cycling in bigger circles at a faster pace became our priority. We had a great time competing in the Worlds in Albi, France so, subsequently we attempted to qualify again in 2018. I was unsuccessful but Tanya qualified and competed in Varese, Italy.
The 2019 Worlds was in Poland which we did not feel compelled to go for so in September 2018, on our return from Varese, I picked up the running shoes again with the intention of competing in a triathlon. Tanya and I both embarked on the Couch to 5k running program. Although by this point we were both very fit for our age, as any cyclist attempting to run will tell you, it is very difficult to run without doing yourself some damage, mainly due to the imbalance in the leg muscle groups caused by the cycling. After a number of restarts following calf/achilles/ham-string injuries I managed 5k without stopping by the end of the year. I did my first parkrun on 5th January in 26:51. On 31st August, I did my eighth parkun in 23:00. I still get a few niggles if I run longer distances but progress has so far been good. Can I do a half marathon in 1:34 again? Maybe, time will tell.
Tanya's progress with the running has not been so good, suffering from recurring injury to her upper ham-string tendons below her sit-bones. So the decision to enter a specific triathlon was on hold for a while. However, after a few weeks of little running and a gentle restart things were improving.
Just 2 weeks ago, we realised that we could enter a local pool based triathlon without having to sell body parts to fund it. Open water swim triathlons are quite expensive and then there's the added cost of a wet suit which would only get a single use if we did not like it. So without further hesitation we entered the Viridian Daventry Triathlon. The event was sprint distance: 400m pool swim, 20km ride and 5km run. So we paid the entry fee, ordered cheap tri-suits and running belts and then started to think about the logistics.
Final training involved a single swim as I had not swam since holiday in late July, dropped my running distances to avoid injury and carried on as normal with the cycling round in small circles at a high pace.
All was well until Wednesday last week. Did the evening Gorilla pub-ride which these days involves a mid-ride segment competition. By the end of the evening I had a sore throat, nothing unusual in that I thought, just the normal "segment cough".Thursday morning my throat was still sore, not segment cough but the onset of a cold. Bugger! Managed to get a gentle 5k run in first thing, but Friday through Saturday I was nursing a head cold. I made a decision fairly early on that I would do the triathlon as long as the cold did not move to my chest or turn into a viral infection. With rest and mild medication I was feeling better. Nothing to stop me now.
The big difference between a running or cycling event and a triathlon is the logistics of getting all the kit ready in the right place so that the transitions between the disciplines is carried out as efficiently as possible. So it is quite a challenge to bring it all together and get it to the event. Numerous scribblings on various bits of paper, lots of head scratching and thinking through the event in our heads took up a lot of our time. The book "Dare to Tri" by Louise Minchin was a great help as it lists the kit and discusses the options.
Registration for the event was possible on Saturday afternoon plus they were holding a briefing session for newcomers afterwards, so we popped over, took the opportunity to recce the run start and finish on foot, followed by a drive round the bike loop in the car. That took a lot of the stress away. Just a matter of returning in the morning to do the event.
We were up at 5:30am on race day. The day dawned dry and bright with little wind, great except the temperature was only 4 degrees! So, I've got a cold and I'm supposed to get out of a warm swimming pool and run 200m to my bike in my wet tri-suit in near freezing temperatures, jump on the bike, still wet and hammer my lungs! I packed an extra jersey and a towel to make sure that I was going to be as dry and warm as possible at the start of the bike leg.
To be honest, I felt really strange when I got up. Sort of divorced from what was happening, going through the motions and not over-thinking everything which is my norm. It was just the effects of my head cold but it was quite relaxing in a strange way. I had one job to do and that was it, just get one with it.
We packed the car with all the kit, put the bikes on the carrier and off we went. Luckily we got a space in the car park adjacent to the transition area which meant we had a bit more time to set up and familiarise ourselves with the layout of the transition. We returned to registration to get numbers written on our arms and legs and attend a safety briefing. Lots of nervous chatter going on around me but the fog in my end was shutting it out, nice.
Back to the bike to strip off and a last arrangement of the bike and kit. Luckily the lockers at the pool were available, so I could wear flip-flops and a sweatshirt over my tri-suit and deposit them in a locker for retrieval later. Then back to the pool for the start.
Due to Tanya's far superior swimming capabilities, she was scheduled to start an hour after me as the fastest swimmer goes last. So throughout my prep Tanya tagged along and assisted which was good considering the state of my head. I think it also helped Tanya as a dry run for her prep.
Back at the pool, we were assembled into groups of six, predetermined by our race numbers. One of us for each lane of the pool, each fitted with an ankle tag containing a timing chip, ASBO style, and given a specific colour swimming cap. Then into the pool with 30 seconds to go to the designated start time. A quick head under to acclimatise myself, fit my goggles and before I was really ready the whistle went and we were off.
To record my activities I was using my Garmin Forerunner Watch for the swim and run and my Garmin Edge 800 for the bike leg. Chest heart rate monitors seemed wrong and not sure they work after submersion, so I set my watch to broadcast my heart rate so that the Garmin 800 would display it as normal on the bike leg. Good in theory, if you remember to press start. So I set about the swim, the tedious process of staring at the pool floor and trying to count the lengths as you turn. After a couple of lengths I realised I had not pressed start on my Forerunner. Dohh. At least the ASBO tag will give me a time. So nice steady pace, not too hard but pushing nonetheless.
There was one other swimmer in my lane at the start, a young lass, and it was obvious that she was struggling because she had been stopping every couple of lengths before I got in. She had started 4 minutes before me in the previous wave, but inevitably it was not long before I caught her up. We had been instructed to tap the feet of the swimmer in front if we wished to pass. So a couple of taps, she stopped at the next turn and I passed. I was conscious of another swimmer joining the lane half way through but did not have to pass anyone else.
At the end of each lane was a "lap counter". Not a sophisticated electronic device but a real person with a clipboard ticking off each length for each swimmer. Quite a busy and responsible job but my lap counter was great, offering encouragement and support every couple of lengths. After 14 lengths, he put a board down to indicate that I had just a couple of lengths to go. Usually I struggle to concentrate enough to count lengths in the pool but today I managed it OK. I suppose my head fog let me concentrate better.
My wave consisted of 3 women and another guy of my age. There was supposed to be a third guy but I did not see him. Two of the girls were big and powerful looking and the guy just mentioned that he once ran a marathon in 2:35. We all got out of the pool at around the same time. I was first out by a few seconds and the others not far behind.
The exit out the pool was through an emergency exit that let out to the street via a few steps and a 180 turn. So quick walk to the door, down the steps round the corner and onto what had previously been described as carpet, but looked more like a bit of blue damp-proof plastic. It looked just like one of those kiddies water slides you put on the lawn and wet with a hose, slippy as hell. It wasn't slippy but took me some time to get confidence to run on it in which time, the rest of my wave had ran past me.
I took my time in transition, dried my self off best I could, slipped on the jersey and the rest of my kit un-racked the bike, switched on the Garmin and made my way to the bike leg start line. I walked with the bike but I could see that others were trying to run in cleats with potentially disastrous consequences. I got some odd looks at the start line from the officials. They were not used to my nonchalant approach. Walked over the line got on the bike, pressed start this time and set off. It was only 7 degrees when I started the ride but I don't recall feeling particularly cold at any point. Given my normal rules of 3 layers if the temperature is below 10 degrees this surprised me.
By the time I got on the bike the rest of my wave were out of sight and out of mind. I was just doing this at my pace. Once I had navigated a couple of roundabouts I worked to bring the heart rate up. The course took us straight into a hill that went on for several miles with a few flats along the way, just what I like. By the time I got to the top of the hill I had passed all of the other in my wave. So I just set about maintaining a constant effort. I soon realised that my heart rate was not registering on the Garmin as the watch had gone to sleep. Set the watch recording and the display came back. I struggled to read it though with bright sunlight on the screen. Occasionally I could see that I was rolling in the high 140s, low 150s. Spot on, but I really rode the whole leg on perceived exertion rather than anything else.
The route went north out of Daventry then cut west across to the A45 main road and back into town. Not a lot of traffic. Rolled back into town, dealt with a few roundabouts, over the line, stopped the Garmin, walked back to my bike rack location. Took off my cycling kit, put my running shoes on and walked out of transition to the run start line.
The last time I did a triathlon in the 80s, the cycle to run transitions were hellish. Your legs felt they belonged to someone else and took ages to get going. None of that this time, straight into the run at a steady pace.
I'm used to running parkrun 5k at a decent pace but I rely very much on the runners around me to set the pace. At a Kettering parkrun I start about 60 runners back from the front as that is where I expect to finish. I use other runners to judge pace. This time I was mainly on my own. I passed a few slower runners but no one overtook me. The watch was giving me mile splits showing I was running around 8 minute miles which was good enough. I tired a bit in the last mile with the effects of my cold finally saying "you've done enough" but held on for a good show over the line, not a sprint but sharp.
I was genuinely surprised at how well my body had coped, given my health but no feeling of over-exhaustion, just straight into elation which normally takes about 5-10 minutes after a hard time-trial or mountain climb.
I went back to transition, put on a few layers, cheered Tanya on at her bike-run transition and again at the finish. Packed up our kit, took the bikes back to the car and drove home for some much needed food. Fell asleep watching the Tour of Britain on the TV in the afternoon, so I must have been a bit tired.
Making a comparison with my earlier attempts in the 80s, I think the times are comparable. Slower in the swim, faster on the bike and much the same on the run. With a little bit of work, I think that I can improve on my times, particularly the swim.
We'll definitely have another go and I've put a wet suit on my Christmas present wish list so that we can enter open water swim events.
It's now mid afternnon as I finish this blog. Still a bit groggy but no lasting damage. Bring on the next one. Can't wait.
As a footnote, I would like to say that the event was very well organised. Rugby Triathlon Club did an awesome job, very professional, lots of knowledgeable people to help and great marshaling. Well done.
Monday 4 September 2017
UCI Gran Fondo World Championship - Albi, France - August 2017
I sat astride my bike, mildly excited about what was about to happen. In front of me were cyclists of a similar age, all fitted out in their national jerseys, back pockets bulging with spares, tools, bananas, gels and extra drinks bottles. The sky was grey and holding the temperature back which, at least, took away one of the major concerns for the next few hours. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and took a photo of the assembled throng of eager competitors, eyes all set on the gantry ahead with the bold words "UCI Gran Fondo World Championship". What the hell am I doing here I thought!
The clock seemed to slow to a snails pace as the start time approached. No-one spoke, no one moved, just sat astride their bikes, one foot clipped in ready for the off. And then we were away, steady at first, sat behind a pace car for the first 2.5km. A few sections of cobbles and some tight bends, then we were on the outskirts of the town, the road widened and straightened out and suddenly the pace shot up as the pace car pulled away and the hopefuls up front set about establishing a break-away. Having been a spectator of cycle racing for decades, I was loving being in a peloton for the first time experiencing the actual feel of the spectacle. The pace kept surging and then there would be the sound of brakes on carbon as it slowed again. Then along with the squeal of brakes came the crashing sound of carbon on tarmac and there in front of me was a big aussie laying on the tarmac trying to unclip from his bike and issuing a tirade of expletives. That was the end of my "race" as such.
So how did a 60 year old recreational cyclist from rural Northamptonshire end up in a world championship race? Well it all started back in the winter when we were planning our main summer holiday. As my wife Tanya works in a school, we usually scoot off to France in the Motorhome at the start of the school holidays and catch a few stages of the Tour de France before settling into a cycling holiday in whatever area we found ourselves. This year was going to be tricky as school did not break up until 2 days before the final stage in Marseilles. Initial plans were to pass up on the Tour and go to the Pyrenees and tackle some of the main climbs down there. I can't remember exactly how the plan evolved but it came to our attention that the Vuelta a Espania was starting from Nimes in mid August and there was the UCI Gran Fondo World Championship in Albi at the end of the month. Having always liked the idea of taking part in a cycling event in France this soon found favour. The only issue was that we had to qualify for the Gran Fondo by competing and finishing in the top 25% of our age group in the Tour of Cambridgeshire in June.
The ToC event was another story in itself but I was dissapointed not to qualify. I was only just in the top 50% of my age group. Tanya, on the other hand easily qualified and received the invitation to take part in the Gran Fondo. However, it is not just a simple matter of filling out an entry form, there was the issue of getting a medical certificate, a GB jersey and a British Cycling race license. The medical certificate took a bit of sorting as Tanya's doctor initially refused but after further consultation relented and issued a certificate saying that Tanya was fit to race. With that out of the way, we ordered the race jersey and license and booked Eurotunnel.
Just 3 weeks before we were due to leave I got an invite to take part as well! They must have been short of entries in the older age groups as only the over 50s were invited if they qualified in the top 50% of their age group. Having been planning on just providing support to Tanya, I now had to sort my own jersey etc. We had chosen to wear a No-Pinz jersey specifically designed for the event and possibly a little more wearable after the event than the more white/union flag jerseys on offer. The jersey arrived just 5 days before we were due to travel to France as it was a late order. It was a little on the tight side but too late to change.
We arrived in the Alps 2 weeks before the Gran Fondo. We went to Morzine, found a campsite and stayed there of 6 nights whilst we took on some of the cols in the area. This included the likes of the Cols de Jeux Verte/Avoriaz, Corbier, Joux Plane and Ramaz, in all 8 categorised climbs.
We always had the intention of having another go at Mont Ventoux on the way to Nimes but as the week went on the practicalities and poor weather forecast put the idea in doubt. It was only once we realised that the Veulta stage 1 was a team time trial starting at 5:30pm and an improving weather forecast that it became a practical proposition. In the end we had near perfect conditions and we had an amazing ride up Ventoux. To be honest, for me, this was the best ride of the holiday.
After a brief stop on the Med coast we started heading towards Albi. I was very conscious that all the climbing was good for fitness but had hit our flat pace, so the next few rides before the event were on easier roads and included some fast paced sessions to get the muscles back into shape for dealing with rolling hills rather than massive cols. We had a couple of rides in the Pic St-Loup area before arriving near Albi.
Our cycling friend Noel Toone was staying in a small town just outside Albi and there was a convenient Motorhome aire just along the road. Noel had already recced the course and very kindly guided us around the more difficult part of the course on the Thursday and on the Friday we recced the start and finish. It came to my attention at this point that I was starting to struggle to keep up with Tanya, the alpine climbs had really built her strength and fitness.
We had pre-booked Motorhome parking at the Abli motor racing circuit that was the hub of the event. The start was alongside the awesome cathedral in Albi and finished on the circuit. We moved onto the circuit on midday Saturday and the heat was awful. The temperature was in the mid 30s and there was no getting away from it. After attending the riders briefing at 2:00pm, luckily in an air-conditioned hall, we retired to the Motorhome to check and clean the bikes and prepare our kit. Sleeping in such heat was not easy but we had become accustomed to it.
We set the alarm for 7:00am with the intention of getting to the start just before my start time of 9:12am, Tanya then having to wait till 9:40am. Big mistake. By the time we left the Motorhome the circuit was deserted, everyone else having left already. When we got to the start I had a nightmare of getting through all the ladies and older men to get to my start gate. The ladies were obviously trying to secure a good start position but in so doing had blocked the path for late arrivals. At one point I had to up end the bike and just keep shouting "Excuse Me" and push though. In the end a good Samaritan appear at my side and cleared a path and got me through the barrier that was holding back the later starters. So I started at the very back of the 60-64 year-olds on the start line.
The race itself was over 60 miles with 900 meters of elevation gain. Not particularly difficult but the climbing came in 2 big chunks with a couple of categorised climbs mid distance and numerous small climbs on the run back down to the finish. The first and last 5 miles or so were fast and flat.
So, I was hard on my brakes to avoid the recumbent aussie, a quick swerve and I was past him but the peloton was 100 yards up the road. I was surrounded by fellow Brits, 1 in 3 of the competitors was British, but no one seemed keen on getting back on the main group. I pushed on alone, riding at threshold and eventually made contact just before the first real climb, but once on the climb I just could not keep up having made the effort to close the gap. From this point on I rode the race like a sportive. Occasionally joining other groups and jumping on the tail of the faster riders from the later starts as they came through. I would not say that I took it easy but there seemed no point in busting a gut. Luckily the sky stayed overcast for the first couple of hours, so temperatures were manageable.
At about 45 miles in, I was passed by a small group of ladies. They were not moving much faster than me and I was able to sit on their tail at a comfortable effort. It must have looked odd, 5 fit ladies: a Russian, a Brit, a Mexican, a New Zealander and a Frenchie followed by some fat old bloke! We were later joined by an Irish lass with whom I rode to the finish as the others contested a faux sprint at the finish. The finish itself was about 500 metres of the race circuit. I rolled along with the Irish lass and missed the big photo opportunity because I was concentrating on stopping the Garmin.
I downed a couple of bottles of water, retired to the Motorhome for some food, a change of footwear and a bit of a clean up before returning to the finish to wait for Tanya. Now by Tanya's own estimate she was due to finish about an hour after me, based on her predicted pace and the fact that she started nearly half an hour after me. To my surprise as I approached the finish, expecting a long wait, I could see Tanya with a group of other GB ladies, all smiling and laughing. I was quickly roped into taking photos with phones being passed to me to do the honours.
Tanya's race had gone well. She had joined up with the other GB ladies fairly early on and they had stayed together for most of the race.
In fact, Tanya's race had gone so well that she beat my time for the course by 3 minutes! I'll never hear the end of it :)
A week on and having had time to reflect, I have to say that I'm really glad that we took part. I did not do very well, just 157th out of 175 entrants. About 30 of the 60-64 year old riders contested the bunch sprint. They had averaged 24.5mph for the course! Tanya did much better: 16th out of 37 entries. However as far as memorable life events, this will also be up near the top of the list. How many people get the chance to wear a national team jersey and compete at a world championship?
Next year the event is taking place in the Italian Lakes. I've always wanted to go there. Just saying :)
Strava data for the ride here:
Strava - UCI Gran Fondo World Championship
If you wish to donate to Prostate Cancer UK, link here:
Just Giving
The clock seemed to slow to a snails pace as the start time approached. No-one spoke, no one moved, just sat astride their bikes, one foot clipped in ready for the off. And then we were away, steady at first, sat behind a pace car for the first 2.5km. A few sections of cobbles and some tight bends, then we were on the outskirts of the town, the road widened and straightened out and suddenly the pace shot up as the pace car pulled away and the hopefuls up front set about establishing a break-away. Having been a spectator of cycle racing for decades, I was loving being in a peloton for the first time experiencing the actual feel of the spectacle. The pace kept surging and then there would be the sound of brakes on carbon as it slowed again. Then along with the squeal of brakes came the crashing sound of carbon on tarmac and there in front of me was a big aussie laying on the tarmac trying to unclip from his bike and issuing a tirade of expletives. That was the end of my "race" as such.
So how did a 60 year old recreational cyclist from rural Northamptonshire end up in a world championship race? Well it all started back in the winter when we were planning our main summer holiday. As my wife Tanya works in a school, we usually scoot off to France in the Motorhome at the start of the school holidays and catch a few stages of the Tour de France before settling into a cycling holiday in whatever area we found ourselves. This year was going to be tricky as school did not break up until 2 days before the final stage in Marseilles. Initial plans were to pass up on the Tour and go to the Pyrenees and tackle some of the main climbs down there. I can't remember exactly how the plan evolved but it came to our attention that the Vuelta a Espania was starting from Nimes in mid August and there was the UCI Gran Fondo World Championship in Albi at the end of the month. Having always liked the idea of taking part in a cycling event in France this soon found favour. The only issue was that we had to qualify for the Gran Fondo by competing and finishing in the top 25% of our age group in the Tour of Cambridgeshire in June.
 |
| Tour of Cambridgeshire |
Just 3 weeks before we were due to leave I got an invite to take part as well! They must have been short of entries in the older age groups as only the over 50s were invited if they qualified in the top 50% of their age group. Having been planning on just providing support to Tanya, I now had to sort my own jersey etc. We had chosen to wear a No-Pinz jersey specifically designed for the event and possibly a little more wearable after the event than the more white/union flag jerseys on offer. The jersey arrived just 5 days before we were due to travel to France as it was a late order. It was a little on the tight side but too late to change.
We always had the intention of having another go at Mont Ventoux on the way to Nimes but as the week went on the practicalities and poor weather forecast put the idea in doubt. It was only once we realised that the Veulta stage 1 was a team time trial starting at 5:30pm and an improving weather forecast that it became a practical proposition. In the end we had near perfect conditions and we had an amazing ride up Ventoux. To be honest, for me, this was the best ride of the holiday.
After a brief stop on the Med coast we started heading towards Albi. I was very conscious that all the climbing was good for fitness but had hit our flat pace, so the next few rides before the event were on easier roads and included some fast paced sessions to get the muscles back into shape for dealing with rolling hills rather than massive cols. We had a couple of rides in the Pic St-Loup area before arriving near Albi.
 |
| Descent of Mont Ventoux |
We had pre-booked Motorhome parking at the Abli motor racing circuit that was the hub of the event. The start was alongside the awesome cathedral in Albi and finished on the circuit. We moved onto the circuit on midday Saturday and the heat was awful. The temperature was in the mid 30s and there was no getting away from it. After attending the riders briefing at 2:00pm, luckily in an air-conditioned hall, we retired to the Motorhome to check and clean the bikes and prepare our kit. Sleeping in such heat was not easy but we had become accustomed to it.
 |
| Albi race circuit |
We set the alarm for 7:00am with the intention of getting to the start just before my start time of 9:12am, Tanya then having to wait till 9:40am. Big mistake. By the time we left the Motorhome the circuit was deserted, everyone else having left already. When we got to the start I had a nightmare of getting through all the ladies and older men to get to my start gate. The ladies were obviously trying to secure a good start position but in so doing had blocked the path for late arrivals. At one point I had to up end the bike and just keep shouting "Excuse Me" and push though. In the end a good Samaritan appear at my side and cleared a path and got me through the barrier that was holding back the later starters. So I started at the very back of the 60-64 year-olds on the start line.
 |
| Albi Cathedral |
The race itself was over 60 miles with 900 meters of elevation gain. Not particularly difficult but the climbing came in 2 big chunks with a couple of categorised climbs mid distance and numerous small climbs on the run back down to the finish. The first and last 5 miles or so were fast and flat.
 |
| Course Profile |
So, I was hard on my brakes to avoid the recumbent aussie, a quick swerve and I was past him but the peloton was 100 yards up the road. I was surrounded by fellow Brits, 1 in 3 of the competitors was British, but no one seemed keen on getting back on the main group. I pushed on alone, riding at threshold and eventually made contact just before the first real climb, but once on the climb I just could not keep up having made the effort to close the gap. From this point on I rode the race like a sportive. Occasionally joining other groups and jumping on the tail of the faster riders from the later starts as they came through. I would not say that I took it easy but there seemed no point in busting a gut. Luckily the sky stayed overcast for the first couple of hours, so temperatures were manageable.
I downed a couple of bottles of water, retired to the Motorhome for some food, a change of footwear and a bit of a clean up before returning to the finish to wait for Tanya. Now by Tanya's own estimate she was due to finish about an hour after me, based on her predicted pace and the fact that she started nearly half an hour after me. To my surprise as I approached the finish, expecting a long wait, I could see Tanya with a group of other GB ladies, all smiling and laughing. I was quickly roped into taking photos with phones being passed to me to do the honours.
Tanya's race had gone well. She had joined up with the other GB ladies fairly early on and they had stayed together for most of the race.
A week on and having had time to reflect, I have to say that I'm really glad that we took part. I did not do very well, just 157th out of 175 entrants. About 30 of the 60-64 year old riders contested the bunch sprint. They had averaged 24.5mph for the course! Tanya did much better: 16th out of 37 entries. However as far as memorable life events, this will also be up near the top of the list. How many people get the chance to wear a national team jersey and compete at a world championship?
Next year the event is taking place in the Italian Lakes. I've always wanted to go there. Just saying :)
Strava data for the ride here:
Strava - UCI Gran Fondo World Championship
If you wish to donate to Prostate Cancer UK, link here:
Just Giving
Monday 18 August 2014
Climbing the Col de la Croix St Robert - August 2014
I'm not a spontaneous person. I like to plan in advance, particularly my bike rides. Hence, I surprised myself by undertaking a very difficult climb without any detailed planning whatsoever.
Our holiday in France in 2014 followed the usual formula: Epic drive by Motorhome to catch up with the Tour de France followed by a meander back home over the following couple of weeks. In this case, the only planning was the route to Bergerac in south-western France for the finish of stage 19 and the individual time trial on the following day. We also planned to get across to the Beaujolais and Burgundy areas to re-stock the wine cellar (under-stairs cupboard) before heading north. The plan for the weeks in-between was a couple of lines on a scrap of paper saying "Bergerac -> Auvergne" and "Auvergne -> Lyon".
So it was that we arrived in the Auvergne for the second half of our holiday. The Auvergne is one of France's finest areas. It's hilly but not mountainous, mostly grass covered extinct volcanoes with the occasional rocky outcrop. Similar to the Lake District, I suppose. We parked up at a Motorhome Aire at a place called Chambon sur Lac. We've been to the area a couple of times before, but this was the first time since we had started road-cycling. The plan was to find some "climbs" to test our legs.
We ride our road bikes for recreation. We enjoy the occasional group ride with the local clubs, but we are not into long distances. We've done 100k rides in the past but have no inclination to go any further in a single ride. However, we are lured by the mystique of the epic Tour de France climbs such as Tourmalet, Alpe d'Huez and Mont Ventoux. We've stood on the side of these climbs and watched the heroes of the cycling world straining at the bars in desperation to maintain a decent pace, yet for some reason we want to have a go ourselves. Thereby lies the motivation to do some "climbs" whilst we were in the Auvergne. I want to climb Mont Ventoux before I'm 60 in 2017, so not much time left to get prepared. My wife is coming along too, although I'm not sure that she shares the same enthusiasm.
We got there on a Sunday afternoon and soon went in search of a restaurant for our evening meal. On the way we popped into a Tourist Information Office. A quick search of the leaflets revealed nothing about road cycling, but there was a poster on the wall about some "Closed Road" climbs, one of which was very close. In our best franglais, we were able to establish from the lad at the desk that a local climb up to the Col de la Croix St Robert was in fact closed to vehicles every Monday morning in July and August from 6:00 to 11:00am. How could we refuse?
There is some detail at this website:
http://www.planetepuydedome.com/destination-volcans/tout-le-puy-de-dome/coups-de-coeur/les-cyclo-cols-du-puy-de-dome-526-1.html
In hindsight,what happened over the next 18 hours was a bit reckless. Other than a road map giving a general idea of the route, we had no guide as to the length and gradient of the climb. We had a full map of France loaded onto the Garmin Edge 800, so we were not going to get lost. We knew that the start of the real climb was about 2 miles away and that there was a bit of a climb to get there.
Anyway, we got up early, packed some water and snack bars and set off. By the way, we were on our old aluminium bikes, not the lightweight carbon jobbies: they were having a rest at home. Just a few hundred metres from the Aire we were into some serious climbing by our standards. I was onto the small chain ring and grinding along at a low cadence as I just did not have enough gears to suit the gradient, my power output and blobby stature. Tanya was a little better off as her old Scott has a triple chainring, so she was able to maintain a decent cadence. Her lightweight physique was also a bonus.
To give you an idea, it was like climbing the steep bit of Woodford Hill again and again and again. Apologies to anyone who does not know Woodford Hill, but is a short climb close to home, the steep bit is about 0.3 miles at an average of 6% gradient. This climb turned out to be 6.3 miles at 6% average. So, Woodford Hill, 21 times just about sums it up.
It's hard to put into words what it felt like. I tried to keep my heart rate below 150bpm. I could still manage the old grunt of communication but conversation was hopeless. I just concentrated on my breathing, long deep breathes getting as much oxygen into my system as I could. The pain in the legs was manageable as along as I kept a steady cadence and did not push too hard every time the gradient stepped up a bit. Now, you always hear the TdF commentators saying how French climbs always have a nice steady gradient: this f**ker was all over the place. As this was a well used climb there were markers every kilometre giving you warning of the gradient over the following kilometre. However, when it said 3%, what it actually should have said was a flat bit then bits of 20%. Nearer the summit, my heart rate had climbed to about 160bpm.
The climb took 53 minutes from top to bottom. Keeping up the effort for that amount of time was challenging to say the least. I had two options: keep going or turn around. Turning around and giving up would not look good on the Strava data would it? Publicly seen to fail, that would be unacceptable. So, I broke it down into stages, one kilometre at a time. At each kilometre sign I would say to myself "Are you feeling any worse than you were a kilometre ago?" Answer "No", Reply "So get on with it". I found that the easiest thing to do is to think of something else like what bottle of wine I would treat myself to or where we go next or how easy Wiggins would find this (that did not help).
The biggest problem was the lack of a lower gear. The bike has a compact chainring and an 11-28 cassette. So I was using a 34-28 gear, but it just was not low enough. I was holding around 7 mph but my cadence was well below what I would normally use. Strava later revealed that I was just pedalling at 67 rpm.
We briefly stopped at the foot of the actual Col to get our breath and take on some fluid. After that, we did not stop until we had passed the summit.
The effort of the climb was quickly forgotten as we reached the summit. There were other cyclist up there. Some had come up from the other side, others were laden down with panniers and camping gear. However, everybody had a smile and time for a chat. We had a good chat in franglais with a guy from Dunkirk an a nice chap from Exeter took our photo for us:
I seem to have managed an epic blobby pose. It was a bit on the chilly side: you can see the cloud rolling in.
A view back down the climb. We started out from the edge of the lake in the distance.
A picture of the climb taken the following day from across the valley. The road follows the lower ridge.
And that was it, we enjoyed the descent although it was bloody cold. Instead of going straight back we took a longer route into the Valle de Chaudfour to recce a parking place for another climb the next day. This time on foot though - that's another story.
This is the Strava data for the whole ride: http://www.strava.com/activities/175198684
Veloviewer gives a good graphic representation of the Strava segment:
Overall this was one of those experiences, the memory of which will stay for a lifetime.
As far as preparing for Mont Ventoux goes, I learnt a few things: 1. I need some lower gears, maybe a 12-30 cassette. 2. I need to lose another 10 kilograms and 3. I need more power :)
Our holiday in France in 2014 followed the usual formula: Epic drive by Motorhome to catch up with the Tour de France followed by a meander back home over the following couple of weeks. In this case, the only planning was the route to Bergerac in south-western France for the finish of stage 19 and the individual time trial on the following day. We also planned to get across to the Beaujolais and Burgundy areas to re-stock the wine cellar (under-stairs cupboard) before heading north. The plan for the weeks in-between was a couple of lines on a scrap of paper saying "Bergerac -> Auvergne" and "Auvergne -> Lyon".
So it was that we arrived in the Auvergne for the second half of our holiday. The Auvergne is one of France's finest areas. It's hilly but not mountainous, mostly grass covered extinct volcanoes with the occasional rocky outcrop. Similar to the Lake District, I suppose. We parked up at a Motorhome Aire at a place called Chambon sur Lac. We've been to the area a couple of times before, but this was the first time since we had started road-cycling. The plan was to find some "climbs" to test our legs.
We ride our road bikes for recreation. We enjoy the occasional group ride with the local clubs, but we are not into long distances. We've done 100k rides in the past but have no inclination to go any further in a single ride. However, we are lured by the mystique of the epic Tour de France climbs such as Tourmalet, Alpe d'Huez and Mont Ventoux. We've stood on the side of these climbs and watched the heroes of the cycling world straining at the bars in desperation to maintain a decent pace, yet for some reason we want to have a go ourselves. Thereby lies the motivation to do some "climbs" whilst we were in the Auvergne. I want to climb Mont Ventoux before I'm 60 in 2017, so not much time left to get prepared. My wife is coming along too, although I'm not sure that she shares the same enthusiasm.
We got there on a Sunday afternoon and soon went in search of a restaurant for our evening meal. On the way we popped into a Tourist Information Office. A quick search of the leaflets revealed nothing about road cycling, but there was a poster on the wall about some "Closed Road" climbs, one of which was very close. In our best franglais, we were able to establish from the lad at the desk that a local climb up to the Col de la Croix St Robert was in fact closed to vehicles every Monday morning in July and August from 6:00 to 11:00am. How could we refuse?
There is some detail at this website:
http://www.planetepuydedome.com/destination-volcans/tout-le-puy-de-dome/coups-de-coeur/les-cyclo-cols-du-puy-de-dome-526-1.html
In hindsight,what happened over the next 18 hours was a bit reckless. Other than a road map giving a general idea of the route, we had no guide as to the length and gradient of the climb. We had a full map of France loaded onto the Garmin Edge 800, so we were not going to get lost. We knew that the start of the real climb was about 2 miles away and that there was a bit of a climb to get there.
Anyway, we got up early, packed some water and snack bars and set off. By the way, we were on our old aluminium bikes, not the lightweight carbon jobbies: they were having a rest at home. Just a few hundred metres from the Aire we were into some serious climbing by our standards. I was onto the small chain ring and grinding along at a low cadence as I just did not have enough gears to suit the gradient, my power output and blobby stature. Tanya was a little better off as her old Scott has a triple chainring, so she was able to maintain a decent cadence. Her lightweight physique was also a bonus.
To give you an idea, it was like climbing the steep bit of Woodford Hill again and again and again. Apologies to anyone who does not know Woodford Hill, but is a short climb close to home, the steep bit is about 0.3 miles at an average of 6% gradient. This climb turned out to be 6.3 miles at 6% average. So, Woodford Hill, 21 times just about sums it up.
It's hard to put into words what it felt like. I tried to keep my heart rate below 150bpm. I could still manage the old grunt of communication but conversation was hopeless. I just concentrated on my breathing, long deep breathes getting as much oxygen into my system as I could. The pain in the legs was manageable as along as I kept a steady cadence and did not push too hard every time the gradient stepped up a bit. Now, you always hear the TdF commentators saying how French climbs always have a nice steady gradient: this f**ker was all over the place. As this was a well used climb there were markers every kilometre giving you warning of the gradient over the following kilometre. However, when it said 3%, what it actually should have said was a flat bit then bits of 20%. Nearer the summit, my heart rate had climbed to about 160bpm.
The climb took 53 minutes from top to bottom. Keeping up the effort for that amount of time was challenging to say the least. I had two options: keep going or turn around. Turning around and giving up would not look good on the Strava data would it? Publicly seen to fail, that would be unacceptable. So, I broke it down into stages, one kilometre at a time. At each kilometre sign I would say to myself "Are you feeling any worse than you were a kilometre ago?" Answer "No", Reply "So get on with it". I found that the easiest thing to do is to think of something else like what bottle of wine I would treat myself to or where we go next or how easy Wiggins would find this (that did not help).
The biggest problem was the lack of a lower gear. The bike has a compact chainring and an 11-28 cassette. So I was using a 34-28 gear, but it just was not low enough. I was holding around 7 mph but my cadence was well below what I would normally use. Strava later revealed that I was just pedalling at 67 rpm.
We briefly stopped at the foot of the actual Col to get our breath and take on some fluid. After that, we did not stop until we had passed the summit.
The effort of the climb was quickly forgotten as we reached the summit. There were other cyclist up there. Some had come up from the other side, others were laden down with panniers and camping gear. However, everybody had a smile and time for a chat. We had a good chat in franglais with a guy from Dunkirk an a nice chap from Exeter took our photo for us:
I seem to have managed an epic blobby pose. It was a bit on the chilly side: you can see the cloud rolling in.
A view back down the climb. We started out from the edge of the lake in the distance.
A picture of the climb taken the following day from across the valley. The road follows the lower ridge.
And that was it, we enjoyed the descent although it was bloody cold. Instead of going straight back we took a longer route into the Valle de Chaudfour to recce a parking place for another climb the next day. This time on foot though - that's another story.
This is the Strava data for the whole ride: http://www.strava.com/activities/175198684
Veloviewer gives a good graphic representation of the Strava segment:
Overall this was one of those experiences, the memory of which will stay for a lifetime.
As far as preparing for Mont Ventoux goes, I learnt a few things: 1. I need some lower gears, maybe a 12-30 cassette. 2. I need to lose another 10 kilograms and 3. I need more power :)
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