Tuesday 27 May 2008

Some form.


27oC is what the Credit Mutuel flashing sign told me the temperature was this morning as I sped past. The sun was just burning off the mid-morning haze and although there was a little wind it was a good day for riding. I couldn’t keep my heart rate down for thinking about the weekend just gone and one coming up, that’s right, things are on the up. As the weather got better, me and Tom decided it was time to get out of the apartment for a bit and do some recon on the local cafes. We found that a very dodgy looking one 300 metres from our apartment was actually quite pleasant on the inside, albeit a tad expensive. The décor was clean and smooth with a very flash pool table and electronic darts board. Now pool is one of those games that 95% of the population think they are good at but in fact are pretty mediocre at best, I am one of these people. Tom on the other hand, is not, he had told me that he was good at the billiards based games and I was sceptical at best having heard the talk several times before. But once we started playing it was obvious the only way I was ever going to win a game was with a lot of luck, but at 2€ a game, luck could wait. The other highlight of the week was receiving a completely flat, but no less tasty loaf of soreen (malt loaf) from Tom’s mum. They don’t sell this finest of commodities in France for some reason, so it was swiftly devoured after our ride that day, with some butter of course.

My training went nicely during the week; I felt good spinning the legs and worked hard in my longer rides to keep the speed up and good weather makes this a lot easier. The legs felt good and I was looking forward to the weekend, it would comprise of a 1, 2 and 3 category race of 115 kilometres on what we would find to be a rolling to hilly course with 2 x 1km climbs, each with GPM points at the top. As well as these were a couple of other tough ascents that weren’t deemed hard enough to warrant a sprint at the top. To give myself more of a chance I finally got round to fitting the carbon bottle cages I had brought over from England. I would have done it sooner but for some reason the multi-tool I brought over didn’t have the right size Allen key, I digress. I also decided it was time for a new sock combination; I have always worn two pairs of socks due to my feet being long and thin and not filling out a shoe properly. So when I think I need an extra boost, I change my race sock combination. This time I went for an old, slightly murky, pair of assos socks that had served me well in the past underneath and some new white ones that I bought from Decathlon at 5€ for 3 pairs to go on top. Everything was set, my bike must have been at least 10% lighter with the carbon bottle cages and I had a new race sock combination, nothing could stop me.

We got to the race quite early, so for the first time this season we drove round a lap beforehand. The hills looked pretty daunting and numerous from the car, but then again they always do, generally though I think the drive round helped. After signing on, getting the good old paper number, pinning it on and warming up, I got to the start at the front. The hilly nature of the course and varying degree of ability in the 90 strong peloton meant it was quite obvious that the first serious move that got away, would stay away. As soon as we were waved away we turned right into the first none classified hill which was just as long, if not longer, than the other climbs. The attacks came soon enough first from our team, then others. I followed the people I considered dangerous and the race soon got tough as we hit the first and then second climbs. I stayed in the mix as much as possible and followed some of the hardest moves, the legs were good. Despite the attacks the bunch was still largely together as we finished the first lap and hit the ascents again. Coming into the first of the two GPM hills I put myself at the front ready to go with any serious attacks, this proved to be a good decision. Gwenael Rouzet, the obvious race favourite, made his move attacking for the GPM sprint. I followed 5th in line behind making one of those efforts that could possibly shorten your life span, but you know that somewhere someone will have left a gap. Someone had and ten of us were away, 3 from my team including me, 3 from the other big team, CC Etupes and 4 others including Rouzet of course.

The next 10km were pretty painful, I had to skip a few turns but I was in the break. I hadn’t been too far back, I did have the legs, the race winning move had been made and I was in it...yes. After the necessary burn to get away from the frantic peloton we settled down to a very steady pace, almost too steady. In fact I was amazed at how average the pace was, my legs were itching to go faster as I was worried we’d be caught going so slow. It turned out not to be the case and that the steady pace was the same as or more than the pelotons constant accelerations and easing off. After a lap in the break my legs felt great, I started to think I could win it and began to convince myself. After another two laps though I felt slightly differently, the constant climbing and descending had taken its toll on my legs. Coming into the last lap an attack was made from the break on the opening hill; I was quite near the back and reacted a moment too late. The gap had been made and I couldn’t bring it back, the same could be said for three others one of which blew completely never to be seen again. With about 16km to go the three of us worked, desperate not for our efforts to be wasted and be caught by the peloton. Luckily with 1km to go we knew we were safe and so began the cat and mouse for 7th place. I have an average sprint, which means that when I’m up to speed not many people come round me but I struggle to get round the really fast guys. I enjoyed the cat and mouse knowing whatever happened I would finish in the top 10. I was 2nd wheel following the jump from one of the guys and thought I was starting to come round him as we came into the finish. But my legs were in a bit of a state after a hot day and cramp wanted to take hold, I blocked it out for 200 metres but once the rider in 3rd shot past with 50 metres to go I knew I was finished. I finished 9th out of the break of 10, a little disappointing, but before you can sprint you must first be able to run and before you can run you must first be able to walk. I think I’ve just broken into a sprightly jog (all thanks to those carbon bottle cages and new race sock combination).

Our team finished 3rd, 6th and 9th in the end and were disappointed to miss out on the win (Rouzet). I was quite happy with my performance, but I’m a realist, I did relatively well in a relatively short race with a relatively small field. But now I know the legs are there and confidence is as good as any drug on the market....well maybe not but you know what I mean.


Until next time,

Slán

PS. More photos to come.

Wednesday 21 May 2008

False hope



Another week down, another race done and here I am to tell you all (I hope the plural is necessary) about it. After the heat of the Essor Breton the weather continued to be superb with glorious sunshine for pretty much the whole week. This had me training in shorts and jersey to make sure I kept, topped to the max, the ultimate fashion accessory, that’s right, tan lines. A must for any serious or aspiring cyclist and artificial ones definitely do not count, in fact, if discovered (usually easily as their face is white and their legs are a strange orange) they take away from any credit you have gained as a cyclist. I’ve seen cyclists put on the cream that actually makes it easier to burn in 30 degree heat, just so they can get a good tan line, now that’s dedication (but definitely not recommended for all types of reasons). Luckily for me, I tan like a chicken in a pre-heated oven so my lines are usually tip top. For a few days I rode round in the sun on my own as Tom had stayed in Brittany to reacquaint himself with the locals.... if you know what I mean.

The week saw us looking forward to our next race, another Elite National, The Boucles de la Marne. This was run as a challenge promotionale de clubs of which there is a qualifying round each for the east, west and south with a final somewhere in the middle. The race was restricted to DN2 and DN Espoir teams which meant the serious big boys wouldn’t be there, but there would still be some stiff competition. “Great!” I thought “maybe I can finish in something nearing on credible for the first time this season.” If only it were that simple. Going into the race I had a pretty blocked nose which had kept me awake for a couple of nights, but apart from that, felt alright and was looking forward to it. At 158km it wasn’t short but looking at the profile that was given on the website it looked quite flat so I thought it might be a fast course....here’s a tip (I keep giving them)... never trust a profile of a race, they lie.

The drive there was a short two and a half hour hop that seemed like nothing compared to our seven hour haul last week. The sun was shining, the numbers were nice to pin on, and everything was good. My stem was decorated in several numbers , some of riders I thought might be worth watching for, but most were the times when we’d reach certain points in the race, one of those points being Kilometre 51, where there was €510 prime and no, before you question my typing skills, the numbers aren’t the wrong way round. That’s about £375 just for a prime, I’ve seen riders risk death for £5 primes back in England, and I can’t begin to imagine their frothing mouths over this serious amount of money. I decided to bare it in mind and assess the situation once I got there.

The race got under way nice and smoothly and was apparently very fast at the start but I didn’t really notice as I was sitting in. I decided to try this rather than going for the break although I did follow a few moves, never making one of my own. Everything was rolling along nicely, I was well placed for the first 40km and coming to the hill I was actually excited by the prospect of the race splitting up. Then, disaster struck. On what seemed like a gentle rise I was in my big ring changing up the gears to make it a little easier. Then suddenly the chain slipped off onto the little ring and I was spinning away to keep the speed up. No big deal I thought, so I tried changing back into the big ring. Again it slipped off, so I gave it up as a bad job, changed down onto the little ring and flicked down the gears to a smaller sprocket. As I did this, the chain jumped off altogether and so began the comical act of furiously spinning the legs to try and get the chain back on. In a sporting bunch someone might push you so you don’t stop altogether while doing this.... I wasn’t in a sporting bunch. Being right at the front, 100 riders came passed with nothing more than an “Oh la la”, I had stopped before the tail end of the bunch had even reached me. I quickly jumped off and yanked the chain out from where it was stuck, pulled the derailleur forward and wrapped it round the big ring. Just as I was getting back on, the team car got up to me and succeeded in doing very little but I was away again. So began the chase, not helped by the cars in the convoy that left ridiculous gaps and drove at random speeds, sometimes helping then just accelerating away. Most of the time it was just me versus the peloton (that weren’t taking it easy might I add) and it was a hard grind, but after about 7km I made contact.

I wasn’t in much of a state to do anything once I got back on, but I had two choices; use anything I had left to move up for the first scheduled climb, or stay at the back and recover. I chose the latter option as the climb was in just 2km. We got onto it and it was a long steady drag and nothing really broke up, everyone was panting though and it was just a test for what was to come. Remember that profile I was telling you about well after the long steady climb there was a tiny descent and climb again up to the first GPM point. I thought this was a little suspicious when I saw it and was proved right. After a manic descent where it already started to break up, there was a sudden right into an 18% beast. This caught everyone (me anyway) by surprise and suddenly there were riders zigzagging all over the road in an attempt to lower the gradient slightly. I struggled up somewhere near the back all the while thinking about the riders ahead riding away from me. The race structure was decided on this climb and I was disappointed but I soldiered on.

It started to rain a little and our group worked well in an attempt to catch up hitting the second climb not far behind. Here I saw Tom at the side of the road holding his chain and half his rear derailleur. He had been in the front group and was going well, but that piece of bad luck would signal the end to his race. Nearly as good as my excuse. After the rain eased off a little, we went downhill and kept riding at a good pace. Then it started raining again and then it became a joke, seemingly all the water that had evaporated around the world during the past week fell on us in a period of about 40 minutes. There were flashes of light in the sky and scary rumbles of thunder over head, water poured off the neighbouring fields, flooding sections of the road. We all started to look at each other and wonder whether it was worth it, after some serious thought some of us, including me, decided it was. After an hour of lashing rain and steep hills we rode into blue skies and flat roads. We rode the last 50km at a very good speed and were constantly catching riders who had been dropped by the group up front. I felt better and better as we went on and as we got to the finishing circuit I wondered how many people had dropped out ahead and behind.

After our little group played out the end of race cat and mouse for the very minor placings, I sprinted in for 53rd. While I was doing this Aurelian Duval was busy winning the race, sprints classification, mountains classification, young rider classification, team classification and the substantial prime I was talking about (His number was on my stem). Superb, are my thoughts, another nowhere placing and possibly all because of a slipped chain after 43km. At least I got to ride the race which is more than can be said for Tom who only got to do 75km before fate took its course. Maybe next week I can do something, but who knows? I really have no idea what I’m capable of after taking beatings most weeks. The one thing I could take away was that I had finished, which was more than could be said for most of the field, I was happy with that.

The moral needs a boost before the form can come and maybe...hopefully... it can have one this weekend. Tu sais jamais.


Until next time

Hwyl fawr

Sunday 11 May 2008

Bretagne


I’ve finally got round to writing this after a week’s break due to racing so now I have plenty to write about. My first adventure occurred with a trip to the hairdresser, I know I’ve mentioned these before but this was my first time actually in there using one (a French one that is not my first time in one at all, although you probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference)...it was exciting. Or at least it was until she started cutting my hair, then it became more a sense of dread about what she was doing. By the end I didn’t have the guts or the vocabulary to ask her if she was blind, so I paid my money and left. It was without a doubt the worst haircut I’ve ever had, she gave me some sort of 1980’s David Bowie with shorter back and sides and an unshaped mop on top. I recently resorted to cutting it myself with some nail scissors and now I’m much happier, next time I think I’ll just let it grow.

On May Day, or Muguet as it’s known in France, we had a 130km race in the mountainous region of Alsace. It was 5 laps of a circuit with hills as big as they’re going to get for a race of laps. I went into it not feeling so great and was told to be active at the start. This isn’t a particularly good mix so when, in the words of David Duffield, the proverbial hit the fan on the first time up the main climb I struggled but held in there. I struggled up it every time but after the front 2 groups had ridden away I got in a small group and we rode round for 3 laps, each time the group got smaller and on the last lap I departed out the back and rode to the finish. At this point the race was in tiny pieces and what was left of the peloton caught me and then rode straight past, I didn’t mind, my legs were in serious pain. I finished 44th out of 120 starters, a guy from our team put in a great gritty ride to finish 2nd but was disappointed to miss out on the win.

I spent the next two days desperately trying to recover for my first stage race of the season, the Essor Breton. But I still felt a little bit tired going into Sunday’s prologue having raced on the Thursday but nothing horribly fatiguing. This is how it went for me:

Stage 1: Prologue (4.7km) Le Pertre – Le Pertre

Like any good Brit I was aiming to do Ok in this and after riding the course a few times before hand I was looking forward to nailing it round in a respectable time. I was off pretty early on at 9th and warmed up and ready to go full beans for about 6 minutes. I started pretty fast as it was downhill with a few little kick-ups which I powered up sapping the legs. I soon got the speed up again though as turned left on a nasty gravelly corner onto another quick downhill section. This rose a little once more and then it was left onto the long, straight up hill to the finish. By now my legs and lungs were protesting profusely and I was rapidly slowing. I kept getting out of the saddle to try and get my speed up again but the lactic acid coursing through my veins had other ideas. I crossed the line in a lot of pain in a time of 6.25, I was soon to learn that this was rubbish. I went back and told the rest of the team that all the time was lost in the last kilometre as I would imagine did the rest of the first starters from each of the 15 teams. They duly took my advice and all set quicker times, the quickest being 7th overall. The winning time was 5.51 by Pierre Luc Pierichon of the French national track squad. I was 56th...at least I beat Slippens and Stam.

Stage 2: Saint Méen Le Grand – Inzinzac Lochrist (150km (well 148.8 actually but I’m rounding up))

It was raining in the morning and wasn’t looking good, but by race time it had dried up and I was ready to go. The pace was immediately high but I was in and around the front looking to get away early or at least not get dropped in the first 50km. Neither of things happened but we were still going fast through the first feed, so fast in fact I missed a bottle and at this point the weather was hot and I was thirsty. The race was lined out for a good 10 minutes in the gutter and the legs had to take a serious beating to stay on, fortunately, I did. After that a break went and it calmed down to the finishing circuit where things started to hot up again. I took a bottle on the first lap and immediately drank all of it and took another the next lap. Tom got away with 3 laps to go and it looked like he would make it until with about ¾ of a lap to go he was reeled in by the fast moving peloton. I decided to try and make the sprint at the last minute and made a monumental effort to finish 26th.

Stage 3: Gavres – Brandérion (140km)

The sun was really shining at the start of this race and once again it started fast. I eventually found myself at the front helping to cover moves as I didn’t feel so bad, but nothing I got in wanted to stay away, maybe they saw me as a threat? (or maybe not) Eventually one did go with Tom in and this stayed away for a while. In the mean time, I was happily milling about in the peloton, helping to infiltrate the moves trying to bridge to the leaders. Then we turned left and out of nowhere, bam! It was a damn steep hill that had everyone quickly changing into the little ring and sprinting to hold contact. Unfortunately this wasn’t the end of it, it stayed steep for about 1.5km before levelling off slightly where the hammer went down again as those in front tried to stay away and those behind fought to stay on, I was somewhere in between. But it wasn’t finished, oh no, there was a severe sting in the tail as it climbed up once again to its steepest point that must have been at least 20% for about 200 metres to the top. The peloton split with me in the second half but I was cool and calm and helped bring it back. The hill had all but destroyed the break and we went into the finishing circuit as one big group. Here I suffered severely every time up the finishing straight hill to the line and took a bottle at about 30mph once, until the last time with 750m to go someone gave up just in front about half a second before I was about to do the same thing. I lost 20 seconds on the bunch but didn’t mind, the heat had been incredible and I had nearly burned, anyone that has seen my skin will know that this is some feat as I tan in wintery showers and rarely burn.

Stage 4: Hennebont – Plougasnou (166km (plus 7km neutralised))

I decided to choose the longest hardest stage to feel my worst as I thought it would be appropriate. The race went backwards through the Plouay circuit used for the worlds some years back and now every year for the GP Ouest France which has a great weekend of events every year including a sportive. I’d recommend it having done it once, anyway, the first climb was at 16km and I blew a gasket going over it, just about managing to stay on. While I was crying in pain, the peloton had split forcing the Dutch track squad (four of whom are definitely going to the Olympics) to pull it back for 15 minutes. This caused more suffering and we hadn’t even covered 50km but finally it was brought back together and immediately a break went up the road. This break quickly gained two minutes and was represented by 10 teams and all the main ones... except us. This meant we had to pull it back so we slowly formed at the front to start the work. For me getting the front was a big effort in itself and once I got there I wasn’t in much of a state to work, but I did. I managed to go through and do my turns for about 10 minutes until we hit a very small climb where I blew to bits. The effort had destroyed me. The peloton streamed past, still at speed as the rest of the team was working but I managed to just about hang on. I took on some bottles and tried my best to conserve anything I had left to try and get over the last GPM of the day. Unfortunately this was in vain, it was a wall of a climb and I had nothing left to stay on, with 50km to go 6 of us had slipped off the back. We rode to the finish happy to get the longest stage over and done with; I had drunk 6 and a half bottles and eaten a veritable picnic along the way.

Stage 5: Plougasnou – Landivisiau (143km)

Finally the last day and I was ready to get it over with. The weather had finally given in and we started in the rain, gileted up with wrecked oversocks to keep the dirt off. I started determined to try and get in some sort of break or at least make sure the team had someone there to do it. This meant being up front and following the constant countering of the guys who all knew they didn’t have a great chance of getting a result in the finale. Nothing was going, but I felt pretty good for the first hour, then we started to go uphill and my efforts had taken their toll. I hung in, around and off the back most of the time, constantly crawling my way back on to the tail end of the bunch. At one point every car had come past and I thought it was game over, but me and another guy ploughed on to regain contact after a 15km chase. While this was happening two of our guys had got away in a five man move and managed to take every one of the GPM maximum points. It was a classy break that sealed the Meilleur Grimpeur prize and I got to hear all about over the earpiece. I grovelled my way to the finishing circuit which had a nasty 500m steep hill to the finish (every finishing circuit had a damn hill in it). The first time up it I was left in a group that had done their job and now just wanted to finish. I’m not sure if I had done my job, but I just wanted to finish as well. We rode round and finished a few minutes down on the peloton, I smiled when I crossed the line, finishing 50th overall. But as soon as I had finished I got some bad news; one of our guys had crashed with only 8km to go breaking his collar bone. He hadn’t finished outside the top 10 once in any stage and was sitting in 4th place overall, but that’s bike racing, merde happens.

A few more pictures can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97782&l=d9713&id=624435000

It was a tough five days for me but I was happy I finished, even if it wasn’t in a blaze of glory. Hopefully now I can build on it and get some recognisable form. The weather has got increasingly better and today, before writing this, I did a 4 hour recovery ride (32kmph average) in the 25 degrees sun with one of my French team mates. I’m starting to enjoy this life.

Until next time,

Shalom