pluie, neige et vent

On the Sunday just gone, this blog was looking pretty thin on the ground for ideas. I was contemplating having to write about how I cut thumb while carving some turkey (more about that later) due to some horrendous weather conditions and race cancellations. Well into the Sunday evening, we got the call that we had a race the next day, luckily we had already prepared...twice. After my two early DNFs last week I decided I needed to make up for all the riding I had missed out on and got out early on the Tuesday morning for three hours and then again in the afternoon for two and a half. It was the best day of the week by far, as the weather slowly degenerated. I managed to get a reasonable 2 hours in the next day with some high quality efforts (basically ride hard for a few minutes) and then an easy hour on the Thursday somehow. On the Friday we set out to do anywhere from an hour to two hours, just to loosen the legs for the next day’s race. After about 10 minutes it started spitting drops of rain, after 15 minutes it was properly raining, after 15 minutes and 30 seconds we decided to turn round. So in the end we only managed a 34 minute leg loosener (it was a headwind on the way back), there wasn’t a period of more than 30 minutes where it wasn’t raining though so we didn’t miss out on anything.

During the week I occasionally tried to improve my French slightly quicker by using the BBC’s Ma France. It’s pretty good as it gives you subtitles in French and English, which as any English person trying to learn French will know makes it easier at first. This is because when a Frenchman starts talking to you at full pelt in his local dialect, it’s pretty hard to tell one word from another, and subtitles let you see each word... If only all French was subtitled. My stretches are still going and I can just about touch my toes although with some major effort. I can get to within an inch of them pretty easily now, but anything further burns the back of my legs no end. Alas, maybe another 2-3 weeks and I’ll have both palms on the ground.

On the Saturday we were due to be doing a race further south about a 3 hour drive away. The forecast was pretty bad, but I had managed to convince myself that I would enjoy riding in such conditions and was looking forward to it. So we cooked our pasta and put it in our plastic Tupperware boxes, got everything else ready and set off early on Saturday morning. After about 20 minutes of driving there were some extreme rain and snow showers that seemed to come out of nowhere and then disappear as fast as they had come. The roads were even dry, and the weather sunny for a short period, it was at this point we ate our pasta, but after this, things got worse. First it was small flurries of snow, but as we went further it became something of a blizzard and the land was covered in a white fluffy layer. About 2 hours into the drive the DS got a phone call and said a few words to the rest of the riders of which the only ones I understood and needed to understand were ‘demi-tour’. We were turning around as the race had been cancelled due to bad weather; suddenly everyone was on their phones making phone calls to parents, friends and our other race vehicle which contained the rest of the team. A couple of the guys were annoyed that they weren’t getting a race and things only got worse when the organiser of the race we had planned to do Monday rang up with the same news, ‘annule’. Our DS promised he’d try and get us a race the next day and would let us know once we got back from our 4 hour drive to nowhere.

On the day instead we got a good 3 hour ride in to try and make up for missing the race, as the weather in our area seemed OK if not a bit chilly. That evening we were told we did have a race the next day and to meet at 11.30 as the race was about 1.5 hours away. So once again we prepared our kit and ate as if we had a race on the next day, got up early in the morning and ate our pasta at 11 O’clock. It’s not my favourite time to eat pasta which is a dish I usually quite like, but needs must. We set off to our meeting point (a journey which we documented with a video below) but before we got there we got the call that the race had been cancelled, great. The rest of the day was spent moping around (as the weather was too bad to ride) and buying plasters for my thumb which I cut while carving up some turkey (told you there’d be more about it). Once again, only later into the evening this time, we got the call that we had a race the next day. We were slightly sceptical as getting ready for another race we wouldn’t do seemed a bit of a joke. Luckily all we needed to do was cook some more pasta for the Tupperware boxes as all our kit was already packed and bikes already in the car.

You can see how I cut my thumb, amongst other things, here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97779&l=ae25e&id=624435000

This time, after another long car journey with some more seriously bad weather (once again documented in a superb video (it’s worth at least two Oscars)) we made it to the race. Here the weather wasn’t so bad, just windy and cold, so I elected to wear just a warm vest and a jersey with some arm warmers. This decision is currently under review as for most of the race it was enough, but for part of it I might as well have been naked. The race had 100 or so riders in and some quality riders at that, with SCO Dijon riding with a past winner of Paris-Troyes and a top 10 finisher at last week’s race. It started fast as always and this time I managed to position myself well, going with a few attacks and pulling ones back with none of us in. I felt good, quickly recovering after several hard efforts and being able to go again. After one of these efforts, a couple of my team managed to get away in the break that decided the race. I would have liked to have been in it, but for the moment I was happy just to be seeing the front and getting of it from time to time. After about 5 of 20 laps I followed 2 riders as they attacked to get across to a small group in front. Unfortunately I started slightly behind them and was working hard to get up to the wheel, the first rider just seemed to fly across without trying, I would later learn that it was Olivier Grammaire, the former winner of Paris-Troyes. I, meanwhile, was suffering with about 10 riders on my wheel who all conveniently waited until I had nothing left to jump across to the group in front. It was at about this time that we went into the hard cross wind section and so the split was formed and I had just missed it.

The next lap me and Tom, who had also missed it, jumped away from our group in a last ditch bid to get across, but we made little impression on the gap they had got on us. So for the next 80km wemade a training ride out of it and dragged round everyone else who had been left behind, occasionally catching lone riders and a small group. Then with about 4 to go, it started to darken as a huge black cloud moved in and suddenly it was snowing. Actually it was more of a hail/sleet that stung your face and legs while still managing to soak your clothes in freezing water, it was at this point that I started to slow down. The sleet then settled into a fluffy snow which was just as cold and soaked your clothes even more. I foolishly carried on for another lap, before pulling out with a lap to go where I saw everyone else who had packed, many from the group in front of us. I couldn’t undo the buckle on my helmet but just about managed to yank off my gloves before running to some warmth and quickly changing into every piece of dry clothing I had left. The team managed 4^th, 5^th and 7^th from the break, some more great results, although not quite the win we all want. Everyone was in a serious state after the race, Tom had carried on to do the last lap and when he finished it took him 15 minutes before he could gain enough use of his limbs to start getting changed. Only 29 finished, with our group sprinting in for 18^th in the end, there were a lot more than 17 riders ahead of us when the decisive split happened.

A few more pictures of my racing can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97782&l=dac25&id=624435000

Although it’s another DNF, I have a lot more positives to take away from the race. I was mixing it at the start and felt good and was able to put the fate of my race in my hands rather than in the persons 30 riders ahead who had decided to give up when it got hard. I’m now at about the point that I raced in England and the only way is up.

Next week we have Troyes-Dijon, another long Elite race but I am looking forward to racing it with more confidence, but not too much exuberance, I want to try and finish.

A la prochaine,

ádios.

Merde.

I wasn’t expecting to do well in my first Elite race, but I wasn’t expecting quite the pasteing I received from the pros. The week leading up to the weekend wasn’t the best, with us only managing one longer ride of 3 hours. The rest of the week was filled with rain and very high winds which had you riding at a 45 degree angle when it came across you and at 9mph when it was a head wind going full on. We are now starting to get settled down in the apartment and learning the routes you have to take to the toilet at night when you can’t see the roof beams (A lesson learned the hard way by me). I have also begun a regime of intense stretching, press-ups and sit-ups. This is to tackle my inability to touch my toes that I have had for as long as I can remember, I also want to be able to do more than 10 press-ups without needing a 10 minute rest between the first 5 and between each one after that. Also I want a stomach like Bruce Lee and even though I was pretty close before I still think I have a little way to go. I am already getting close to my toes and I think another week and I’ll make it.

The weekend quickly came around and it was time to race again. I was put in the strange situation of being told we were allowed to drop out of the race if we missed the move and felt we wouldn’t do anything in the race. This is not a situation I want to be put in again, it made me completely negative about the race after the first couple of laps when I couldn’t do anything. It wasn’t just this that made me negative, once again, the Germans and the Suisse had arrived in force and this time it was a 200 rider field with the race oversubscribed by 20. I struggled greatly with my positioning with such a big field and couldn’t put myself in the right place, not only when it was necessary, but at all. So after not seeing the front, I dropped out after 5 laps (about 60km) thinking I might save myself for the following day. Unfortunately Tom started to come down with a cold on Thursday which was in full swing come the weekend and so had to drop out after 2 laps. No one else from the team dropped out and I felt stupid. One of the team, Kevin got away and managed a great result with 5^th. Afterwards I wish I had gone on to finish even if I had come in 30^th it would have been something to take away from the weekend because as I was to realise in about 20 hours, I wouldn’t be finishing in the top 30 the next day, or the bottom 30.

After resting up and eating well on the Saturday evening I was ready to go early Sunday morning with a 6 O’clock start for Paris-Troyes. Toms cold hadn’t got any better so he decided to try and get better and stayed at the apartment. So I drove the team van we are borrowing for the time being to the meeting place. When I first drove it, it was a little dangerous, not because I’m a bad driver, (at least I don’t think I am) but because it is a van and it is left hand drive. Pulling away was easy enough, but when I went to change gear I nearly opened the door. I managed to get the hang of it after nearly opening the door a few times, but then I forgot I was driving a vehicle much wider than the car I’d driven before. This scared the hell out of Tom who sat on the right hand side and had a great view of all the gutters and wing mirrors I was hitting. After a bit I realised I was now a wide load, but opened the door when I went to put the hand break on.

The drive to the race was a long one, about 4 hours to Provins. It was passed with snoozing and slowly eating (and chewing properly) pasta and we were soon there (after 4 hours). When we arrived the weather was pretty abysmal and it wasn’t going to change in a hurry. We got changed and had all our bikes ready when we got back, we certainly looked the part. Signing on was great as we had to walk up some steps and be presented anyone that was watching, which was no one. The team before us had a couple of people taking photos as they lined up to be presented, so we did the same...no one took any photos. We lined up on the start line in the rain and cold where we waited for 10 minutes shivering and wet while the formalities were run out by the officials and then we were whistled away for the start fictive. After 100 metres there was already shuffling about and there was a great slip and several loud scrapes as the first crash of the race happened, unfortunately, I wasn’t in it. We rode around the town a few times before finally arriving at the start proper, where we stopped, again. This time I took a natural break as did a lot of the peloton and slyly made my way to the front via the grass verge at the side of the road, it would be the last and only time I would see the head of the race.

We were waved away and immediately the speed was high, I managed a very brief chat with Dan Fleeman who was doing the race but I doubt he knew who I was, it would be the last I saw of him as well. For the first 30 minutes, the speed seemed to be fast or faster and yet manageable but I was slowly moving backwards. If I couldn’t hold my position against the average peloton, I wasn’t going to be able to do it against people who get paid to do it. Then the road started to go up and down a bit, nothing serious but you could feel it and I started to worry. Then things got a whole lot worse, a whole whole lot worse. The road straightened out and suddenly became very exposed and the wind hit. A dirty great cross wind that signalled the pros to get to the front and drive it and drive it they did. The front of the peloton immediately echeloned out, with a second one soon forming close behind. Then another one appeared as riders struggled to hold the wheels in the gutter and gave up with the riders behind killing themselves to get round. Two more echelons formed with most of my teams mates in the one in front, with me in between them both, not a place you want to be. I couldn’t ride across to it on my own, it was ridiculous, but I tried, very hard. But once several riders, including me, gave up the chase we were passed by what must have been the 6^th echelon. Because of the previous effort this was just as hard to get on and by this time cars were passing us which were duly used to aid our chase (don’t worry I highly doubt it affected the overall result at all).

After passing several crashes caused by riding in strong cross winds, my echelon finally decided to call it a day once we hit the first climb and slowed up. We carried on for several kilometres in the horrible rain and wind before getting onto the 40km finishing circuit. Here, crazily, we were passed by the leaders so we obviously lost a hell of a lot of time. Once this happened I decided enough was enough a got into our team van which was luckily just passing. I wasn’t the only one, as at various points in the race each of the team had given up and none of us finished along with 110 other riders. The race was won by a Bretagne Armor-Lux rider, a team which has a very good chance of riding the Tour this year through invite.

It was an eye-opener to say the least and it was plain to see I had no experience in such situations. But I must learn to hold a good position even in the smaller races; otherwise it’s going to be a long hard season.

I plan to start this action next week during our 2 races where I plan to at least get in a move. Hopefully I’ll start to put myself about it.

Until then,

Arrivederci

Racing - French Style

After several weeks of telling you about my weeks roaming around France “training”, the time finally came for me to race. Something I had, (important word) been looking forward to. After driving back from our training camp, we spent the week living in a French Gite. Basically, a small house with all the necessary mod cons, including a washing machine. This, apparently, just soaked your clothes in water and made them smell bad (or in Tom’s case, better). From here we conducted our weeks recovery period but with a distinct lack of internet. Instead we passed the time playing the legendary Microsoft games, now even better on vista. By the end of the week we had mastered Hearts, Mah-jong Titans, FreeCell, regular solitaire and spider solitaire. Obviously I was already a master of minesweeper, but we never managed to get any good at chess. I Digress. The days slowly ticked by as we looked forward to our first race, mostly deciding which victory salutes we would use as they would obviously be necessary.

Race day finally came and everything was pretty much prepared, we arrived at the race in plenty of time and went to sign on. Funnily enough, signing on in France is no different to England; just sign a piece of paper in some conveniently placed sports hall, take your number and go. The whole team was doing it as well as riders from the club including juniors and seniors, so we had a pretty big convoy. We hastily changed into our race kit, pinned on our numbers, went to warm up, took the several necessary toilet (although none were taken in such a facility) breaks and it was race time. Apparently, every rider aged 16-35 within a 200 mile radius had turned out to ride, with teams from Germany and Switzerland. This made the peloton 190 riders, the biggest field I’ve ever ridden in. After the annoying speeches and minutes of waiting for apparently nothing, we started, just 125km to go. The first 20 minutes were spent remembering how to, and deciding whether or not, I had indeed ever raced a bike before. It was in these 20 minutes that the first break went up the road consisting of 15 riders, 2 of which were in my team. The circuit was completely flat but the weather was windy with one road in particularly exposing the field to a strong cross wind. My race was spent eternally moving up and still managing to see a thousand riders ahead of me.

After finally managing to start racing, I made a couple of fruitless attacks that were only made because I had finally reached the front of the peloton and had nowhere else to go. Once I was caught, I was once again overtaken by a thousand riders and so began the endless moving up. Consequently, when with about 50 km to go, another group of 15 went up the road, I wasn’t with them. Luckily 4 of my team mates were and once this had happened I could ride how I liked in the peloton, although I would have much rather been in the move. I ended up finishing 50^th, not exactly a position to write home about (although my mum insists that I do), but I took the fact that I felt good away from the race. Tom managed to get in the move and finished an excellent 7^th with 2 other team mates in the top 15.

On the Monday we finally moved into our apartment, a nice open plan roof space with 2 bedrooms a bathroom and a separate toilet, snazzy. It was nice to finally get set up having lived the past several weeks out of suitcase. Though we soon realised that a lot of the space in the apartment was unusable as the walls slope away from you and as we are both over 6’2”, there are only certain places you can walk. A good example of this is the toilet; here (if you are a male (or an adventurous female)) your head hits the ceiling before you get anywhere near being within range of hitting the bowl, or indeed the seat. Tom maintains that he can, but for reasons I refuse to believe. We did a big shop hoping we wouldn’t have to return to the supermarket for the rest of the week. So obviously we went again a couple of hours later and once more a few more after that to get the things we needed. We rode a few times in the week, but nothing ridiculous to prepare for our next race. This came round soon enough and we were on the road again.

A few photos of our living arangements can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97779&l=ae25e&id=624435000

This time the field was a lot smaller, approximately 70 riders, with the race also being a little shorter at 115km. Just like in the UK I thought, a revision swiftly made once the racing started. Even though the field was smaller, all the riders were strong with us and one other big team riding. I had been told at the start by the DS that, in his words, “the first escape...err....it is good, yes.” I took this to mean ‘get in the first move’, so after 5km I started attacking, one of several decisions I would regret in about 20 minutes time. After about 5km of cat and mouse I put a big effort in on the other side of the road with one other guy coming with me. I rode pretty hard to try and get going but the road started gradually to go up. After about a Km the other guy came round and kept nailing it on the front, by this time the peloton had pulled its way back up to us. For reasons unbeknown to me, I stayed on his wheel as road continued to climb and about 200m from the top I was on my knees desperately breathing as much air as possible into my lungs. At this point more attacks came and I swiftly went backwards. Down the other side, the break went; I couldn’t see this as I was pretty much blind due to my hill climb effort. It stayed hard as well as the bunch drove to try and stop the break so my breathing didn’t slow for the next 10 minutes. At this point I remembered the pasta I had hastily eaten on the journey over. Here’s a tip for any aspiring cyclist: Chew your food before a race!

We then hit the second of 3 climbs, the hardest I’d like to point out. After having gone backwards, I was no longer in a good position if things started getting tough, which they did. The bunch split several times and I had to dig deep to keep them within range and get back on. This hurt a lot and my brain started to work against me, “it’ll be easier if you just stop” it kept telling me. Fortunately it calmed down for the 2^nd lap, while still going hard on the climbs but I was able to recover more sufficiently. Then on the final 3^rd lap, it got really tough on the 2^nd climb and 6 pulled away including Tom. I managed to drag myself across to them with a few others and we rode to the finish. I came in 25^th with Tom a few places ahead in 20^th, our man in the break managed to get 3^rd, although this looked a bit poor in comparison to the other teams result who had taken 1^st 2^nd and 4^th winning the mountains and espoirs prizes.

Next time I plan not to attack until it gets hard rather than making it hard, as my early efforts stopped me from doing anything in the first half of the race. The great thing about being in the team though is not worrying about things like driving to and from the races and pumping up you tyres etc. This makes it a lot more relaxing experience, although you still have to pin your numbers on, the most annoying thing about bike racing.

My racing photos will be uploaded here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97782&l=dac25&id=624435000

Next weekend we have Paris-Troyes, apparently shortened to 170km but with 10 double hard climbs and 11 pro teams. This race should be more for experience than anything, so to warm up we have a 130km race on the Saturday. Obviously if we don’t get in the move we will swiftly be dropping out.

Until next time

Ciao.