tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23583196225406995792024-03-13T17:39:47.017-07:00Life of a DN1 EspoirAlastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-42644327978578500752009-09-23T05:43:00.000-07:002009-09-23T05:51:31.663-07:00Encore Une Fois<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdXTv188w6m9iWBJwPybpm2u0vY2qvpelWnHpXzt9CsgfldEIAH0ADjJgJONusoS_THo3WocmWuc_HFQogjr8FmIXC5QlJ77h8wFYIKOhiepAf5RjJB7CFWtCMiEx5IslD8Pj5n4Nk3zw/s1600-h/newspaper.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdXTv188w6m9iWBJwPybpm2u0vY2qvpelWnHpXzt9CsgfldEIAH0ADjJgJONusoS_THo3WocmWuc_HFQogjr8FmIXC5QlJ77h8wFYIKOhiepAf5RjJB7CFWtCMiEx5IslD8Pj5n4Nk3zw/s320/newspaper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384643632588945010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQ5VtIvIaWa96eNoU_WL0ndl9QKC282Vi9nlDAbwuAhQGIqiKB-LQTMq-o_IFYWdd0iSWs_mGCC-70vVR6KrFUGul0-yXjMDPS3av-BQnQAFUAXp3qjIiiLOLIrgW3H7pHbW_HauQtG00/s1600-h/duo2.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieQ5VtIvIaWa96eNoU_WL0ndl9QKC282Vi9nlDAbwuAhQGIqiKB-LQTMq-o_IFYWdd0iSWs_mGCC-70vVR6KrFUGul0-yXjMDPS3av-BQnQAFUAXp3qjIiiLOLIrgW3H7pHbW_HauQtG00/s320/duo2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384642982295578034" border="0" /></a><br />As you may or may not have noticed, the blog went through a long long period of neglect. It’s not that I didn’t want to write it, it’s just that when there are 3 of you living in a small apartment, it’s a lot harder to find time to write good quality script. So in the end, as the weeks passed without me adding anything, I decided to leave it until the end of the season and then do one last update to let you know how it went. But instead of doing the whole ‘write and interesting blog thing’ I’ll just write something interesting facts and figures. So here are the ones that sum up my season:<br /><br />4 times on the podium<br />1 KOM classification<br />1 win (in England)<br />6 top 5’s<br />12 top 10’s<br />23 top 20’s<br />1 bout of fatigue lasting 2 weeks<br />50 Days of Racing<br />4 Time trials<br />8 DNF’s<br />1 crash<br />4 Punctures in races<br />1 Puncture in training<br />Several trips to the hospital for Matt’s scaphoid<br />The breaking of nearly every wheel I own including a rather expensive Zipp 404<br />8 Michelin Pro 3 Race Tyres<br />2 Chains<br />2 Sets of bar tape<br />8 Books<br />4 Paintings<br />Quite a few primes<br />3 Pots of Herbs grown<br />3 Pots of Herbs not picked in time and left to wilt and die<br />The discovery of the Croissant Amandes aux chocolat<br />A massive amount of help from the John Ibbotson Fund<br />1 Case of online fraud involving my debit card<br />1 Smashed Pyrex dish while making lasagne<br />Many trips to the café<br />Hundreds of cups of tea<br />1 Holiday in Provence<br />3 Times up Mont Ventoux<br />4 ferry journeys<br />A few pieces of stolen corn to check the ripeness<br />Lots of new friends<br />Many good memories<br /><br />There are many more, but these are the most relevant. The end of my season came at the Duo Normand, a 54km 2-up Time trial over a few tough little digs. Me and Matt decided to have a crack at it and see how we could go against guys given money to do it. To prepare we were lent bikes to use, both of which were highly unsuitable. Mine was a compact 54cm Frame, which for someone measuring 6’4” looks a little ridiculous, but I made it fit. Matt’s frame on the other hand had such a relaxed seat-tube angle that we had to fashion a seat post that held a saddle far forwards enough to make it not look like a recumberant, but we managed this as well. In the end we just about had bikes that were similar to sizes that we might have actually needed...nearly.<br /><br />We practised all week and come Sunday we felt ready to smash some ProTour riders. We didn’t look very professional warming up though as I didn’t have a turbo and so had to go and ride around on my own while Matt did a proper warm up. Our modified bikes passed the hasty relaxed bike check, almost too relaxed for a UCI ranked race, but much better than some of the anal things I keep hearing about in the UK. We rolled down the start ramp and were off, straight up the hill that the ramp rolls into. Fortunately for the most part the first 27km were downhill or flat, it was during these kilometres that I felt ok and tried to keep a good pace up.<br /><br />Matt took a while to get warmed up and just as he got going we hit the hilly back section of the course. I went through a bad spell and struggled to come through as Matt powered on, although somehow I managed to find myself on the front going up a lot of the hills, how this happened I have no idea. I got back going again towards the end of the ride and we kept it as high as we could. I very nearly stacked it on a dead turn before a 6km run back to the finish, coming into the corner way too fast before locking up my back wheel twice and sliding along a bit, much to the horror of the crowd watching at the corner. After a few gasps of terror, I held my cool and managed to finally turn the bike round the corner, the crowd were impressed. No time to take plaudits though, the last 6km were agony as they were mostly uphill, but the 2km downhill to the finish was much nicer.<br /><br />We came across the line to post a 1.13.51, which wasn’t bad, but I think with properly set-up bikes, a little knowledge of the course and a bit more preparation we could have at least got into the 1.12’s, but there we go, maybe next year!<br /><br />Speaking of next year, I decided that I didn’t want to go to university this year (this was after seeing the book list I was supposed to read some of, if there is one way to put someone off going to university who isn’t massively decided it’s to show them a list of the most boring books in the world), instead I want to have one more shot in France. It will be my final year Espoir so I really want to be the best I’ve ever been and find my highest level, wherever that may be. After that...who knows?<br /><br />A la prochaine<br />Alastair<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCg9coscLeiR7EMvCEJpPrVx1creE0Y5cqpW4EfIzFQW4HxO8espaaUSCXFb_fwN8ec5SoOVvn7LG2If0lbT_AwXR8cfP-LTGziGqTk-tU9SMUPpnXhhpwKQcWyJaeAswCMv31PnChNfmS/s1600-h/IMG_4865.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCg9coscLeiR7EMvCEJpPrVx1creE0Y5cqpW4EfIzFQW4HxO8espaaUSCXFb_fwN8ec5SoOVvn7LG2If0lbT_AwXR8cfP-LTGziGqTk-tU9SMUPpnXhhpwKQcWyJaeAswCMv31PnChNfmS/s320/IMG_4865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384644045085225378" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQ3I3D1fNxmRAYjGnu27Nt8Le7dMTJnDJXsnBVOX6dRaeqH2xLzd1-17XSek1XSro9zxL5WIt1tB48u0nIxITjS1ggknvlMQ47kPLrZg-C1VC9MECvOymGCzGXJNVElITSkDDE3NZkePY/s1600-h/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 72px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQ3I3D1fNxmRAYjGnu27Nt8Le7dMTJnDJXsnBVOX6dRaeqH2xLzd1-17XSek1XSro9zxL5WIt1tB48u0nIxITjS1ggknvlMQ47kPLrZg-C1VC9MECvOymGCzGXJNVElITSkDDE3NZkePY/s200/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384644420268610290" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-76494465066297515742009-06-14T02:18:00.000-07:002009-06-14T02:23:00.000-07:00It's back Baby!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWBHCYn6YLLnEZrcnDMwNZbmWnA_s7VnhewtxBVleabDUBhLwlmZr3y5rRcQXZ1NJ9EVlRgu3WPqqZoBn-Ck-x_dqJc5rsUIFgpmRTCRp9ZFgdCvwGXQ7IjZ4lUUgh4y2QKICCx40lVMaB/s1600-h/liberte.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWBHCYn6YLLnEZrcnDMwNZbmWnA_s7VnhewtxBVleabDUBhLwlmZr3y5rRcQXZ1NJ9EVlRgu3WPqqZoBn-Ck-x_dqJc5rsUIFgpmRTCRp9ZFgdCvwGXQ7IjZ4lUUgh4y2QKICCx40lVMaB/s320/liberte.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347110410580456322" border="0" /></a>
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<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">2 months it’s been since my last posting, a whole 2 months. Time flies when you’re having fun so I must have been having a whole load of fun. My excuses for not posting are as follows:</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1: I got lazy</p> <p class="MsoNormal">2: I had no internet</p> <p class="MsoNormal">3: I got lazy</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As you can see, I’m not much of an excuse person unless of course I did badly in a race, in which case I have a small novel of excuses packed away somewhere at the back of my mind. Each one specific to a certain occasion, bad weather, broken spoke, mal positioning etc etc...</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>2 months of not saying anything leaves you with a lot to talk about, so, without further ado, let’s find out what I’ve been up to.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The herb growing went very well for several weeks and then one pot of plants suddenly died. We weren’t sure why, we think it was possibly down to overgrowth or maybe malnourishment, or more likely a mix of the two. This left us with a lot of quite dead coriander, but fortunately the pot containing the basil, chives and some other none-discernable plant remains quite alive and well, we even put some in the occasional meal. But doing this feels like destroying several weeks work, even though you are supposed to use them for cooking... On the subject of cooking, a long time ago I said I’d put up a cookbook blog, you probably had forgotten about this, your probably didn’t even know about it in the first place, but, I’m pleased to say, I have finally put it up for you to sample.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here we are: <a href="http://cyclistscookbook.blogspot.com/">http://cyclistscookbook.blogspot.com/</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://cyclistscookbook.blogspot.com/">
<br /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you have any more recipe’s send them over and I’ll put them up, after trying them of course.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now for something completely different.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last time I wrote I had just finished a busy week with 2 stage races, since then I’ve had 13 days of racing (provided I post this by Friday night, if not I’ll have had 14) including 1 top 5, 5 top 10’s, 2 DNF’s, a crash and loads of primes. I’ve also had a few races where not much has happened, but these have been few and far between as now I always seem to find a way of making a race worth the effort. One of the first highlights of the past 2 months was a race in a place called Villaine-la-Juhel. It came on the back of a race where I had been strong but in far too many attacks. So I was told, unsurprisingly, to hold back. Something I’m not very use to doing as most of the time I am compelled to attack. On this particular occasion though, I managed it. I sat in for pretty much the whole race until the finishing circuit and was feeling pretty sweet. On the finishing circuit I was up front more often than I wasn’t and in the weird position of being in contention for the win. I even managed to sprint over the line first for 2 primes of which I didn’t know the value, this turned out to be very much worth the trouble.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The exciting bit came with just over a lap to go, as someone lay a big dirty brick on a high powered fan. I followed a very hard move up the drag of a hill which made me begin to lose some vision, but I thought it was all part of the fun and pushed on until there were just 10 of us working well towards the finish. I was quite convinced I could win and knew it would all be down to the last corner, which funnily enough, it was. The fast run into it was dangerous to say the least and it was admirable the way some of the guys dive bombed into it risking all to move up. Unfortunately while I was admiring their foolishness, they were still coming round me and this left me in no position to come back on them. Hence my 8<sup>th</sup>, rather than 1<sup>st</sup> or even 2<sup>nd</sup> or 3<sup>rd</sup>.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next highlight came at a race called Les Boucles Sérantaises, this was pretty similar to the other one but with a bigger field and a harder finishing circuit. Once again I tried to put into place my “sit-in” plan of action, but no sooner than had I implemented it, I found myself off the front in a small group. This grew and grew, before Johan Lebon got across to it and it was doomed, I was quite pleased as I could then re-implement operation sit-in. This worked well until the finishing circuits when things got tough, I moved up quite slowly and even made a short foray off the front which turned out to be quite profitable. With 2 laps to go and a small group up the road, I carried my speed and my heavy legs round the bunch and attacked off the front with 3 others. We bridged across to the front group and it was race on.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I say it was the front group, it wasn’t, there were still 4 guys up the road who weren’t to be caught. After the obligatory last ditch attempts, we were still together with a K and a half to go when I followed a small attack but decided it wasn’t worth going through.<span style=""> </span>This meant we were caught with 300 metres to go and found myself nearly leading out the sprint, I probably should have led it out as a about 5 got past me and I finished 10<sup>th</sup>, not too shabby.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Highlight number 3 was at a race called Le route des Légendes, a hard hard circuit with 2 steep hills and a very big false flat cross wind section. It was quite apparent that it would split up early on and stay that way, so I followed the early moves and stayed out front. Much to my pleasure I ended up in the move of the day, but the two steep hills were doing some damage to my legs every time and with 2 laps to go the big attacks came. My reaction was about 5 seconds to slow, mainly due to the rather large gradient, and I was left in the 2<sup>nd</sup> group. I must have recovered a little though as by the finish, although I was duped into leading out the uphill sprint, I still held on for 2<sup>nd</sup> in the group and 8<sup>th</sup> overall, not too shabby.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The last and possibly most exciting highlight came just the other week, a criterium race in a suburb of Rennes. Not a massive field, but there are always quality guys there to make it tough and keep you on your toes. Crits in France aren’t like in England, I think I mentioned this last year possibly, but they tend to be at least 90km with a shed load of primes. Something that has come to interest me this year being more capable of winning sprints. But anyway, the race wasn’t massively eventful for the first 28 of the 35 laps, attacks going here and there, nothing really getting away. Then with 7 to go a group of 5 managed to sneak away, sans moi. This was a little annoying as I’d been mostly alert for the race, but it wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, I’d built myself up for this race and wanted a result. So coming into four laps to go, I attacked into a corner got a gap and the chase was on. I don’t know how far ahead they were, all I know is it was ard, well ard. But after a lap and a bit of chasing, I made contact with the lead group, quite possibly my finest moment in cycling, I was very pleased, but it wasn’t over yet. I made myself look as tired as possible and sat on for as long as I could, but eventually they got annoyed and I tapped through steadily. This carried on nicely until about ¾ of a lap to go when one of them decided to spoil the party and attacked. I wasn’t in a position to follow and no one else did, which left me in a sticky situation. Attack and pull the others across or risk it and wait. The result was something in between, one tried to pull him back half heartedly and I went once he had finished but it was too late. Two dived inside me before the last corner and that’s how it stayed, me in 4<sup>th</sup>. Darn, so close, I was disappointed, very.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So those are all the highlights between my last blog and now. Fortunately after much decision making and decisive action, we now have internet installed. We needed to set up a French bank account to pay for France telecom to have a line installed before we could then go to service provider SFR to have a box sent over, which we then needed to set-up and wait for the service to start. And we only found out we had to do these things in reverse order, it was a right game.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In other news, why does everything wear out and break so much easier when you have to pay for it? It’s rather annoying. During one race, a front tubular blew out on the way down a nice fast sweeping corner, leaving me to carry straight on into the curb and momentarily later, a wall. Luckily I didn’t do myself too much damage, but later to my dismay found that my pride and joy front zipp had a big old crack in it from the impact. I wasn’t best pleased. I have also broken spokes in 3 others wheels and don’t actually think I own a wheel which is completely true. It’s the same for the other guys Matt and Nathan, we haven’t had a lot of luck in the wheel department.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Matt has now had his cast off and is nearly ready to start racing again, although we had a minor scare last Tuesday when after one of his first rides we were forced back to the hospital after he decided he had broken it again. Fortunately he hadn’t and he’s now easing back into the riding a lot slower, so hopefully he’ll be pinning numbers on soon enough!</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DYCgUotN3uLBKzX_KpDiaf6fEskAlvswluLhioZpOSfml1lL05Wgehr58cCG3Mv31swllKjE6iOy0cNjuz_lRXoU3DAgD0wkaN1F1aYO2jcKXxMfaDEuYAIcJ7dO22YGeYdP97TSHTa6/s1600-h/Liberte2.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DYCgUotN3uLBKzX_KpDiaf6fEskAlvswluLhioZpOSfml1lL05Wgehr58cCG3Mv31swllKjE6iOy0cNjuz_lRXoU3DAgD0wkaN1F1aYO2jcKXxMfaDEuYAIcJ7dO22YGeYdP97TSHTa6/s320/Liberte2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347110682310175554" border="0" /></a></p> Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-35498003353823366082009-04-11T07:26:00.000-07:002009-04-11T07:35:09.325-07:00King of the mountain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FdGSJyDhHSZ0KTVmtqppTzwqv3ovbvNE8sRERnAtZalSXVZehtgBf_Y-O91Tl-RqbxX4L0sjjFExlmrXofujpKzVgzjyPdIg5-9z8g2hlHNrazIDOTbvekEoo-Wsj1ThNJdDX-w6g-Dv/s1600-h/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FdGSJyDhHSZ0KTVmtqppTzwqv3ovbvNE8sRERnAtZalSXVZehtgBf_Y-O91Tl-RqbxX4L0sjjFExlmrXofujpKzVgzjyPdIg5-9z8g2hlHNrazIDOTbvekEoo-Wsj1ThNJdDX-w6g-Dv/s320/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323442249281218514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYgumcSJWDs6xVfWoIGah8U3JmsFa7GwzlN9HmTF8oJIan-VtBahysZcoHwo2fIIudWDXBz3qiATDNDBSpKIcubtG2-XnjgFYxD5CAeym2i9_oQbmE2FV7bmCsDh_MbFs0IflMHm6gc3c/s1600-h/P1020390.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYgumcSJWDs6xVfWoIGah8U3JmsFa7GwzlN9HmTF8oJIan-VtBahysZcoHwo2fIIudWDXBz3qiATDNDBSpKIcubtG2-XnjgFYxD5CAeym2i9_oQbmE2FV7bmCsDh_MbFs0IflMHm6gc3c/s320/P1020390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323441158304210338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />How slack am I? Very is the answer to that question. A whole week and whatever without writing something, I’ve let you down, I’ve let the team down, but most importantly, I’ve let myself down. I do have an excuse though, that is lots of racing. Last week from the Saturday to the following Sunday I raced more days than I didn’t, so I’ll get right onto telling you all about them. The first race was the two day Fleche d’Armor, it included a long road stage on the Saturday, a short Time Trial on the Sunday morning and another decent road stage in the afternoon. The only thing I do need to tell you about first is how we went looking for a different bakery on the Friday afternoon, Matt pointed out that we had all accidentally walked over a 3-drain (3 drains in a row), he told us every time he did this something bad happened the next day. Me and Nathan scoffed at this foolish superstition and enjoyed the below average baguette we bought from the new found bakery.<br /><br />The first stage was nothing short of a farce. Well not quite until 30km anyway when the big team Cotes d’armor put the hammer down on a very tough cross wind section and split it up, I was dallying around about 5 wheels too far back and ended up chasing this most vital of splits. We were riding along at a good pace and just about had the lead group in sight when, all of a sudden, half the cars went right and we went straight on. No one seemed to know what the hell was going on, some people turned around some went straight on, I followed the majority and somehow we got back on the course behind all the team cars. It was at this point that everyone seemed to decide the organisers didn’t deserve a race and it turned into a very large club run that went on for the next 90km. During all this commotion Matt had put his front wheel into someone’s pedal and ripped 4 spokes out of it just as the hammer went down. After a frantic 30 minute chase he got onto the back of the cars a little before the bunch found their own way there, rendering any effort he did put in a bit pointless. Oh well, stage races are good because they have more than one stage.<br /><br />Next up was the TT, 7,8km of slightly rolling but mostly flat route. Me and Matt had planned our finishing positions in the bunch the day before so that he could finish and get the disk wheel and deep section front zipp back to me for my start. It was close, very close, I signed on with 10 seconds to go, got on the bike with 5 seconds, clipped in on 3 seconds and had to start in my biggest gear not having had time to change it. Nevertheless, I felt half decent and blistered past my minute man at about 5km and sprinted in to post 10.14. Matt had earlier posted a quick 10.10; these times put me and Matt in 1st and 2nd which is how it would remain until the last 10 riders. The GC contenders put in some pretty good times on their fancy bikes (me and Matt had to stick clip-on TT bars on), but by far and away the most impressive was Johan Le Bon. He won by a massive margin, posting a 9.20 averaging over 51km/h. To put that into perspective, the criterium international TT won by Tony Martin on the same day over a very similar distance was run off at slightly more than a 1km/h less. In fact from 2nd (9.52) place down to 10th (10.15) it was quite close, matt ended up 6th with me coming in 8th. We were quite pleased.<br /><br />After a quick shower and some food it was time for the afternoon stage. A good 125km along the coast, occasionally heading inland to find a big hill. I had no plan in particular except to try and do something worth remembering (which usually just means finishing!). I followed some wheels early, before after about 15km launching my own attack pulling away a group of 11. We quickly pulled out a good gap getting it up to 2.30 at one point. Another large group of 20 came across to us before it quickly split up again on a hard hill where some big attacks came. I worked to stay in the front group as it kept going up steep hill after steep hill. The front group had now been whittled down to about 12 of us again, but the bunch was coming back fast being driven by Le Bon and his cronies. We reached the finishing circuit with a 20 second gap, only 3 short laps and we were there! Our group started to attack each other with a small group getting away, I tried to keep the speed high so we at least finished ahead, but I had done a lot of work early on and was now paying the price. On the bell lap we still had a small advantage but if you looked behind too long you’d be caught. This must have happened as with 3km remaining I saw Le Bon roll along side with the rest of the jerseys. Darn. I followed what I could and my severely dampened sprint took me into 13th place on the stage. The first stage had wrecked everything and I finished 38th overall, which was a tad annoying, but I soon got over it.<br /><br />While getting changed we wondered where Matt was, no one had seen him finish or even come past on the finishing circuit. It was all a bit worrying, he had been seen coming across to us with the Le Bon group but had seemingly disappeared. I saw one of the team helpers walk up with his bike, the forks somewhat bent in the wrong direction, interesting. We found him in an ambulance headed to the nearest hospital; I jumped in for a lift and found his spirits weren’t too dampened. After a quick x-ray we found he hadn’t broken a bone apparently, but a cast was put on anyway for good measure.<br /><br />The next race was on the Wednesday, the Elite Nationale Grand Prix U. My legs didn’t feel too clever in the first 50km whatsoever and I thought I was in for a long day. Things didn’t get much better as the hammer kept going down to bring back breaks, splitting it up in crosswinds and bringing it back together. I hovered around in no particular position wondering when something good might happen, then we hit this wall of a hill out of nowhere. It went on and everyone was forced into their smallest gears, there were too many people all over the road to move forwards so the guys at the front had it easy. I was pretty close to the back and as we crested the hill it split into groups of which I was in the very last, in fact I was last man altogether. We dallied around until two others decided they’d had enough and attacked across to the peloton, I followed busting several guts to hold the wheel before finally latching onto the back of the big group. I looked round and saw the small group a long way off the back, I wouldn’t see them again this race.<br /><br />Once I’d recovered I moved up towards the front and learnt that a group with all the favourites was up the road after the hill. I decided I had nothing to lose and put in one effort which was quickly shut down, before going again not long after. This time a got a small gap so carried on going, I looked round to see a group of about 12 riding off from the peloton. I waited for them and then helped them pull away and we were soon flying. It didn’t take us long to get up to the leading group and I was happy as Larry, whoever he is. This is about where it got hard. We went up another wall of a climb which split it up yet again, it came back together again after much pain and then a small group went just before moving onto the finishing circuit. I followed what I could, but by now I was crème caramelled and sprinting out of corners was taking some serious effort, let alone sprinting after attacks. I managed to hang on, but had nothing left for the finale and had to roll in for 25th place which I wasn’t so disappointed with, having been last man about 50km earlier.<br /><br />The next day Matt decided to take his cast off and try and get out for a ride. We took it very easy, but by the end of it he didn’t seem to have done his arm much good. He spent the rest of the evening bathing it in cold water and we went to bed thinking he might have just sprained it. Then, at approximately 2.30AM, he knocked on my door saying it hurt so much he couldn’t take it anymore. At first, I was sceptical especially in my semi-conscious state, but when I saw him shivering in pain just sat down I started to believe him. I went to action stations creating a makeshift ice bag before ringing one of the club officials who might least mind being rang at crazy o’clock. Luckily he answered at the 2nd attempt and it was off to the hospital again. This time they found he had broke a bone, the scaffoid or something, a very small bone in the wrist that could apparently cause much discomfort, no sh!t. They wrapped a good solid cast that would need to be worn for 6 weeks and we went back to bed. Happy days.<br /><br />Our next race was the Tour du Pays de Lesneven, similar to the Fleche d’Armor but with a team time trial rather than individual. The first stage went round some nice coast line before heading inland, we went up the first King of the Mountains prime and I decided to have a bash, leading the peloton over. I found out after that a group of 5 had gone up the road without me seeing and I hadn’t actually scored any points. I went for the next one as well, this time 2 had dropped out of the break and leading the peloton again gave me 2 points. After that I followed a few attacks and got away in a group of 9, I thought this would be good until the finish but as we reached the 3rd KOM point and I won outright, we were caught by a split up bunch. It stayed like this until the last KOM point where I moved up into a good position I sprinted for all I was worth to take it. Now the bunch split up yet again and I was caught between the two, eventually deciding I was better off waiting (not really, I just couldn’t catch the front group). It came back together on the finishing circuit just as a group of 11 clipped off, I was more concerned with working out whether or not I might have taken the jersey and really wasn’t enjoying these last few km’s anyway. It turned out that the guy who had taken the two early KOM points was in my team and thought he had won the jersey, only to find out I had won the last two and scored a couple extra points! This meant I had the jersey, I felt bad, well not really, I felt great. I’d never had a jersey before in any race, this was quite an experience and I wasn’t about to lose it, the jersey that is.<br /><br />The TTT wasn’t much to talk about, I think we did as well as we could have with the team, but they are always fun to do. The afternoon stage was where it was at, I had a jersey to keep. On the start line I was at the back thinking I’d quite like to be at the front and then I remembered, I’m wearing a jersey, move aside boys. So I strode to the front, cool as, and posed for photos with some dignitary of the town. The first KOM was very early on after only 6.7km so the plan was to sit on anything that moved and get it finished quickly. After a small detour and an interesting crash from Nathan, I jumped away, chasing after a small group which suddenly turned into a big group of 15 or so. We pulled away quickly and coming into towards the KOM point I was nicely positioned before opening up a mighty sprint with 200m to go. After a short challenge the others decided they weren’t going to get more points than the person who already had the jersey and slowed up, saving their legs. We continued to work well and pulled out over 3 minutes on the peloton before they started chasing. We had a healthy gap coming into the next KOM points and I took maximum points on all of them, guaranteeing my spot on the podium that afternoon. Why not go for the stage. From there on I worked rather hard, intent on holding the gap on the bunch led by BIC 2000. It felt great, especially being in a jersey. We held it at 1.50 for a while before getting onto the finishing circuit. Here it came down rapidly before we were finally caught, I was in pieces and duely sat-in for the ride. It was only now that I realised how knackered I really was and with about 2.5km to go I dropped off the back and rolled in on my own, a warrior, grrr.<br /><br />The podium was good fun, especially with Ms Finistere handing out the flowers, I certainly couldn’t complain. The Master of Ceremonies thankfully asked only simple questions and I gave him some nice simple answers and everyone was happy, especially Ms Finistere at the fact I was on the podium. And now I’ve tasted it, I want some more, I don’t know where, I don’t know how, but I will soon be on the podium again. We’ll see.<br /><br />F*@king 3-drains,<br /><br />Until next time,<br /><br />Walk safe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhgja0EUaQXwpZg4yOFQNCq1sZ5eNnwW7PAgODbrtsURdqi_8a_sq0VwwVOMUIGVdl85l2J_gmwX6qCJzdUB7sMd-ZdXIl4kPZBoLqBXMBckhFJd0ZE15bzS8auWyhbBDYIxVzISPCjRB/s1600-h/P1020394.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhgja0EUaQXwpZg4yOFQNCq1sZ5eNnwW7PAgODbrtsURdqi_8a_sq0VwwVOMUIGVdl85l2J_gmwX6qCJzdUB7sMd-ZdXIl4kPZBoLqBXMBckhFJd0ZE15bzS8auWyhbBDYIxVzISPCjRB/s320/P1020394.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323440805313875106" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-535367554831418232009-03-24T11:05:00.000-07:002009-03-24T11:07:58.307-07:00Monsieur Top 20<meta equiv="Content-Type" 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font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Another week, another blog, so much to tell you about, so little time, so near, yet so far, when in Rome...I only posted my last blog a few days ago and yet lot’s of action has taken place. The first thing to tell you about is how me, Matt and Nathan all took part in the French National Sport...Striking. It was a nice sunny afternoon and we had the door open contemplating what to have for tea, when, all of sudden we were interrupted by some disturbing noises. So because we’re brave and inquisitive, we wanted to find out what was making them, was it a street party? Was it a large gathering of people talking at each other through megaphones? Was it an auction in the middle of the road? No, it was none of these, it was a strike, like I said earlier. We stood there watching from the side of the road wondering what it was all about, no one seemed particularly angry, in fact it was pretty docile. We decided to take up a more comfortable viewing point on a bench as there wasn’t much going on, but soon there was some movement and the long bunch of people started walking past us. We watched, commenting on the differences in commitment, some look embarrassed to be there, whereas others made as much noise as they could. Once they had all walked past we decided to follow them, only to find they were going so slowly, we were soon amongst them. Obviously more observation was necessary, so we stealthily moved into the bunch unnoticed. From here we could really see the action, people chatted happily, I’m not sure about what, possibly the weather or maybe what they were having for dinner. But they definitely weren’t talking about the protest they were taking part in. Fortunately for us they took us down an interesting street we hadn’t been down yet, it was actually quite liberating to walk down the middle of what is usually a busy road, no wonder there are so many of these things over here. After a short walk we stopped outside some official looking building and instantly everyone began to disperse, no demands to be met, no hostages taken, all a bit disappointing really. So we headed home for tea, having had our bit of excitement for the day.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We decided the next step after cooking was to grow our own food, unfortunately the closest thing we have to a patch of soil to grow things in around our apartment is the dirt we’ve washed off our bikes. This put quite a dent in our aspirations of self-sufficiency, so we had to tone down our hopes and instead opted to grow our own herbs to use for cooking. But for this we still needed some soil and we weren’t about to pay for some stuff that covers a third of the Earth. So instead we commenced Operation Dig and Run. Fougeres isn’t a 4 star Ville Fleuri for nothing and the soil the plants grow in is top quality stuff. We filled up enough Tupperware pots to accommodate the amount of seeds Matts mum had kindly sent us and scarpered, they won’t miss the soil and besides, we need it more than them.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Several Recipes have now been written and hopefully will be put up with this blog, I suggest you try all of them...at once. You’ll definitely not regret it. I’ll keep adding them as we keep cooking and you can enjoy the same delights as us this summer! This week also saw the recommencement of my other pastime, painting. Last year I forgot to take my paintings over and canvasses might have been a problem to transport on a plane anyway. But this year, with my parents driving me over, I fitted a few in along with my paints with the intention or literally creating a work of art. And now I have. The composition includes one of the more imposing turrets of the castle standing over one of the more modern buildings during twilight. The sky is quite dramatic and overall I’m pleased, hopefully I can upload a picture of it but I guarantee nothing.
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<br /><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now to the small matter of racing, and race we did. This time it was a pretty short 110km effort with 135 other guys. <span style=""> </span>It involved 50km of riding round the country side with 13 laps of a particularly horrible finishing circuit that resembled a crit more than anything. All started off ok, I was nicely placed, followed a few moves, nothing to shake a stick at mind. Then suddenly there was a move I wasn’t in, I assumed we had guys in it so looked for counters of which there were few. This move started to ride off so I was a little worried but then a team mate came up and told me we had two guys in it, thank goodness. A few minutes later I saw one of the teammates who was supposed to be in the break...hmmmm...Then another minute or so after that I saw the other guy was supposed to be ahead. The same guy who had told me we had guys in the break then rode up to me and told me we had no one in the break. Darn.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Working was now the order of the day, but not before we tried to launch a few moves to get a group going across to the leaders. After this failed we tried to get in some sort of order at the front doing some through and off, unfortunately we weren’t all of similar strength and soon there were only 3 or so of us doing the pulling. Not ideal when there are 15 guys up the road all doing a bit of work. Luckily another team had missed out on the action and helped out so we kept the break at about a minute. While this was happening we moved onto the finishing circuit, I hadn’t really moved from the front since we started working and after 3 laps of the circuit I was in something of a state. I dropped back and began to realise just how bad I was feeling. I kept moving further backwards until I could see the cars behind, this wasn’t a good day. I tried to move up now and again, but my legs really didn’t want to do it. Meanwhile I could hear through the speakers that the break was being pulled back to around 25 seconds, but I was too far back to see them and my eye’s weren’t in a seeing mood anyway, in fact, most of body didn’t want to do what I was telling it to.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Getting towards the end I started to see some of our guys moving backwards after doing their work, I wish I could have been up there with them, but I really had very little there. With 3 to go one of our strongest guys who was also on a bad day but was working anyway told me to do try and do whatever I could to help Matt (forgot to mention we were doing all this work to give Matt a shot at winning). This was all the inspiration I needed and so I shot to the front hoping I’d get some kind of second wind. I didn’t stop moving up and hit the front on probably the hardest bit of the circuit, going all out in an attempt to split up for a counter attack to go clear. It didn’t work the first time so I dropped back for about 30 seconds and went again this time using up my afterburners to make it hard. This time it split, not much, but enough. Matt put in a strong counter, 3 others went with him and that was it, my job done. Or so I thought.
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<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I stayed near the front, deciding I’d seen enough of the back for one day and followed a few little digs, but it was pretty much altogether coming into the dead left hander before the uphill sprint to the finish. I was about 5<sup>th</sup> wheel and opened up the demon sprint for the finish coming in 3<sup>rd</sup>, apparently 19<sup>th</sup> overall. A far too good result for the way I felt, which is always a bonus. Next week I plan on feeling much better and winning by several minutes</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Also, well done to Mark Cavendish who won Milan- San Remo for what should hopefully be the first of many times, that is until I start to do it.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stay sweet. <span style="">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style=""></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">
<br /></span></p> Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-68551572964894114092009-03-20T13:21:00.000-07:002009-03-20T13:26:18.866-07:00Sitting in McDonalds thieving the internet...still.<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CAlastair%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:relyonvml/> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CAlastair%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" 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{mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">This blog is in much need of some TLC. I can’t remember the last time I gave you a picture to look at, let alone a video. Unfortunately it takes time and more importantly, internet time and although I have plenty of the former, I have precious little of the latter. So for now you’ll have to imagine what the bike races look like, just think of loads of blokes dressed in different shades of Lycra, a few bikes, the occasional hill and you’re pretty much there. Anyway, In Britanny, because it’s such a cycling popular area, as well as loads of other sports, they put the results of every race in the regional paper, Ouest France. So after every race we’ve done ok in or if there’s an article on us, we buy the paper, cut out the important bit and stick it on what we have now christened as the ‘Media Wall’. So far we have a nice little collection and I imagine by the end of the season we may well have several Media Walls, you’d hope so anyway. One day, when we have internet, I’ll take a photo and you can see it too! How exciting.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We have had some introduction of other entertainment; we have been kindly lent a television to use by one of the clubs officials, as well as a Playstation well stocked with games not from the official but from Rob Orr, our occasional team mate. This has kept the kids busy while I keep house and do other important things like writing this, it hasn’t stopped our games of rummy though. The cooking continues, so much so that we have decided to start a cyclist’s recipe book. Every time we make something new, we take a picture and write down how to make it. When I get round to it I’ll post each one on a separate cooking blog so if anyone who’s reading this fancies a go at making it, which I doubt, they can just go ahead and do that now.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which leads me nicely onto the weather, it has been nothing short of splendid this past week with cloudless skies and temperatures reaching into the 20’s. Apparently it’s set to continue into next week as well, so for the moment, it’s happy days. I even donned the shorts once for a training ride! Crazy I know, especially for mid March, but it was crying out for me to do it. The uber tan-lines shall soon be returning. The weather was also good for our races.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which leads me nicely onto the races. We had two at the weekend, the first one a 162km Elite Nationale, the Souvenir Louison Bobet and the 2<sup>nd</sup> a smaller 135km 1/2/3 race, both with a nice bit of ‘en ligne’ with finishing circuits. Unfortunately Matt had been ill all week and decided to sit them both out, so it was just me and Nathan with a few of the French guys. The first race was fairly interesting, the two pro teams in the area, Bretagne-Schuller and Besson Chaussures both had teams as well as all the big teams in Britanny, very similar to last week really. The race took just over 4 hours and I’d struggle to tell you all about it and most of it was boring anyway, so here it goes. It was pretty hard early on and then a break went and then it got easier for 100km, then we got onto the finishing circuit with 30km to go. Right that brings it up to the interesting bit. I was casually riding round the finishing circuit wondering if I could scrounge any kind of result from the race when all of a sudden a small break went up the road. It started to get bigger and bigger and I thought maybe I should be in it, so I got in it. Then with less than to lap to go I thought I should attack, so I attacked. I got away with two others and we worked really really hard, then I messed up the sprint a bit and finished 2<sup>nd</sup>, which meant I was 20<sup>th</sup> overall...sweet.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which leads me nicely onto my next race. It was slightly different I was still buzzing a little bit from what I’d done the day before and thought I was superman, but I wasn’t. I went with a lot of moves at the start, attacked loads, generally foolish behaviour. Then the actual move went, was I in it? Of course I wasn’t, that would be asking far too much of superman. So the next 80km were pretty boring, and then we moved onto the finishing circuit. I was casually riding round the finishing circuit wondering if I could scrounge any kind of result from the race when all of a sudden a small break went up the road. It stayed quite small and I thought maybe I should be in it, so I got in it. We worked really really hard and caught the second half of the break with 600metres to go, but my legs hurt like Thor himself had smashed his mighty hammer upon them over and over with every pedal stroke on the deathly steep finishing hill, so instead of possibly finishing 6<sup>th</sup>, I finished 19<sup>th</sup>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Which leads me nicely onto my conclusion of both races. I was pleased with Saturday and but not so much Sunday.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which leads me nicely onto other news. Unfortunately we didn’t receive a cake this week, but we have our fingers crossed for next week, or possibly the week after, we best get a cake... Our next race is in Normandy as apparently they can’t find a race in Britanny to do, which somehow I find hard to believe but I’ll turn up and ride my ass off wherever I’m taken, so it barely matters. Now I have a plate of sausage and mash to attend to, don’t worry the recipe will be available soon, in all good book stores and some rubbish ones.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ciao for now.</p> Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-36378229102009686782009-03-10T14:00:00.000-07:002009-03-10T14:04:34.321-07:00Back in the gutter.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeSIhNbRp5dvvqV9Q-QGlyC_-kCfG_D0va8Xtks5c8-LLCqNt2fK9TSVGphcvtvzrTRRFuH08Kjc6esJiUmxKnN08n6G6mxxgoviP3OAWAS6dLCPd9lSyHurf4YWv8N19o8FqBvQgeKsv/s1600-h/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeSIhNbRp5dvvqV9Q-QGlyC_-kCfG_D0va8Xtks5c8-LLCqNt2fK9TSVGphcvtvzrTRRFuH08Kjc6esJiUmxKnN08n6G6mxxgoviP3OAWAS6dLCPd9lSyHurf4YWv8N19o8FqBvQgeKsv/s320/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311667913573315394" border="0" /></a><br />So far I’m still being reduced to either sitting in the dark outside closed cafes to which I have the password for their wifi connection or going round to one of the officials of the clubs houses in order to post these instalments. We are in the process of deciding whether or not to get an internet connection installed in the apartment, but I fear that by the time we decide to get it done, it will be time to go home. In the mean time we have been having some cracking games of rummy to pass the time and regularly play into the night over a warm drink...we are having such fun. We have also learnt over the past couple of weeks that French radio stations tend to play the same songs many many times over the period of a day and that Skyrock FM are particularly partial to a large amount of Akon (R’n’B artist extraordinaire), much to my distress, but Matt’s apparent joy.<br /><br />If you are going to live in France and in particular, rent an apartment where the owner lives next door, try to make sure he is a friendly baker. By some amount of good fortune we have managed to do just this and so far it’s paying off quite nicely. After last week’s free cake, this week he popped in while we were cleaning the bikes and gave us a choice of several fantastic looking treats. I chose last, but apparently chose most wisely, as the toffee cream filling in my massive profiterole was much envied by the others who decided on much more average cakes.<br /><br />Our cooking adventures have continued, even with some occasional repeat performances. Our latest dishes include amongst others, chocolate orange rice pudding (this has to be tasted to be believed), Lasagne (a speciality of mine...) and creamy sweet chilli pasta. We have also mixed French and English traditional foods, adding to the famous Bretonne savoury Galette...wait for it...cheese and baked beans. The outcome was incredible to say the least; I can see it being used several times over the coming months.<br /><br />After a good week of training, the weekend crept up again and we were preparing for the biggest classic in Britanny, the Manche-Atlantique. 160km from one side of Britanny to the other, 2 pro teams and every other big team in the region, happy days. The order of the day was cross winds and plenty of them which meant we would be riding in the gutter for large periods of the race. It had been a while since I last experienced this, the last good memory of it being at a similar point last year when I struggled to hold wheels whenever the pace was lifted. I’ve blacked out most of the times since then as they became all too frequent. But now things are different, or at least I like to think they are.<br /><br />The race started very strangely. It was all a bit...well...a bit easy really. This wasn’t anything to do with me feeling massively superior to anyone, just the fact that we were rolling along nice and steadily and even with the wind it was easy to sit in. It even slowed down to a jog at times, making it very sketchy in the 200 rider bunch. But soon the pace heated up, quite a bit, I’m not entirely sure why as I either wasn’t near enough the front to see or was trying too hard to take any notice (or see). But I imagine there were attacks going, or a team driving it at the front, something like that at least. I was holding the wheels, but others weren’t quite as fortunate and the constant high speed coupled with having to steer your bike away from the constantly nearing gutting started to get to some of the riders in front of me. This meant putting in massive amounts of effort to come round them, destroying yourself to get across the smallest of gaps. Just when you make it onto the wheel in front you think “well, they’ll ease up now surely”, then the person in front of you looses the wheel and so begins the painful cycle that is riding in the gutter.<br /><br />There is only one way to avoid this. Its name is the echelon. Getting in it can save you a whole lot of trouble, unfortunately only the front 15 riders of a 200 rider bunch have the sense to get in one when the going gets tough and as a result 90% of the field spend their time in the gutter. I wasn’t in the front 15 for quite a lot of this time, but worked hard to hold on. It got very very hard for about 15 minutes and split up massively, but then everyone sat up and had a good chat and some food. Then they went really really hard again for another 15 minutes, then they sat up again and had another chat and some food. It was like interval training, but in a race. I had managed to hang on to the main bunch during the first two efforts, but just before the last one I wasn’t well placed and some bad luck and a crash put me much further back than where I should have been. The next split was decisive and I wasn’t in the right place. I moved up as quickly as possible but saw the horrible sight of the front of the front of the bunch riding away from my group. I got in our echelon as soon as I could and started to help work to pull it back. We held them for a while and kept them in sight but at the same time weren’t making any inroads on their gap.<br /><br />After just about giving back hope, we moved onto the finishing circuit and the bunch slowed up massively before the first ascent of the finishing circuit hill. We latched onto the back but by now I was in a bit of state. The hill was pretty impressive, about 1.5km long, lined by masses of spectators. The same hill Valverde sprinted to victory on during last year’s Tour de France, only we didn’t go up it once, we went up it 7 times. I could tell I was in trouble on the lower bits and knew I was in trouble as we got to the top, the gaps were opening up in front of me and unlike in the cross winds I could no longer close them. My legs were dead. I chased for a lap with a small group but once we got to the hill again it was obvious it was all over. We road round just to finish in the end, it wasn’t much fun as it started to rain, but I wanted the miles in my legs. It’s a shame my legs didn’t want the miles in them.<br /><br />Oh well, it shows how a small mistake can make a big difference to how your race goes. Not that I would have won anyway....or would I?...No. Next week a similar level race on the Saturday and a smaller one on the Sunday, I hope to win at least both of them.<br /><br />Until next time,<br /><br />In a bizzleAlastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-17888851206750420032009-03-04T12:14:00.000-08:002009-03-04T12:16:48.475-08:00The podium translatorWow, I’ve been here 3 weeks and it seems like and age. Well, you know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun...But seriously, I’m enjoying it out here, more than last year anyway, so far! It’s more relaxed, less pressure, much friendlier and more sociable, in my opinion a much better environment to try and score some results. This week has been great, in terms of lots of things. The first thing I must mention is the food we have eaten. We have eaten like kings, kings with a small kitchen and little money, but king’s none-the-less. Matt managed to keep the fact that he is a trained chef quiet until we got over here, which I have to say was something of a bonus. Add to that my willingness to learn some new dishes (as well as my washing up abilities), Nathans cook book and you’ve got yourself quite a combination. Some examples of what we have cooked so far include Apple crumble, banana bread, leek and potato soup and some amazing stir fry with egg fried rice. Doesn’t sound like much, but we did cook everything from scratch, which I feel is quite an achievement. How long we can keep coming up with new dishes is another thing. <br /> <br />The week also saw the arrival of our 3rd and final permanent Brit, Nathan. Unfortunately one of his legs has been injured; this meant he couldn’t race at the weekend. But I am now pleased to report that he feels it is back to normal and will be racing this coming weekend. <br /><br />The week has also seen some good weather; Wednesday was especially good, with the temperature reaching a relative tropical 16 degrees, we had a great ride over to Le Mont St-Michel and back with a cafe stop in between, shorts might have even been possible...actually, what am I saying. We also had a very nice day Saturday where Matt’s Polar heart rate monitor told us it reached a maximum of 21 degrees, I’m still sceptical. Saying that, there has also been quite a bit of average to poor weather, with most of the day’s temperatures’ being more around the 7 degree mark, with particularly dull skies. But (and it’s a very big but) it hasn’t rained much, which is always a massive bonus and even though I’m sure we will get rained on plenty in the coming weeks, I’m counting any days without rain as a bonus. <br /><br />Carrying on the kindness theme from last week, while getting ready for a ride in our rooms, we were greeted in the kitchen by a very fancy cake that had apparently appeared out of nowhere. We later found it had been given to us by the owner of the apartments who also works at a local bakery; needless to say, we decided to leave the door open more often. We expect to have a few things stolen, but at least we’ll occasionally get a free gateau. <br /><br />Race time! The weekend saw us take part in the 135km Plaintel-Plaintel, 105km around the roads with 30km worth or circuit at the end. I didn’t have much of an idea about the parcours, but I was told there was a good hill after 40km and it was pretty undulating as well as this. But I was looking forward to it; I felt fit and had some well earned confidence. 160 riders were on the start sheet with a few big guns, but one in particular needed looking out for, Johan Le Bon, current Junior World and European champion on the road. Unfortunately no one told me he was riding and so I was none the wiser to his presence, this would prove to be something of a mistake. <br /><br />The race got under way nice and quickly and I was soon moving up the massive bunch that I had got so used to last year. No sooner had I got to the front than I started to follow the moves, but not initiating my own...that would be just plain foolish...not for a few minutes at least. But then, all of a sudden, my senses deserted me, the speed was high after a few big attacks had gone and there was slight lull. I carried my speed around the outside and sprinted through the thinning gap on the left of the road as the bunch swept across the road trying to force others to the front. I got a gap pretty quickly and flicked it down a few gears, praying that someone would come across to me; otherwise it was going to be a long day or another short lived attack, more likely the latter. Fortunately a few other guys had seen the chance and, after the obligatory initial foolishness of riders unsure about wanting to commit themselves, we got organised and started to pull away. There were 12 of us altogether, with about 8 strong guys and a few clingers on who either struggled to pull their weight or didn’t bother trying.<br /><br />After a while we settled down and started to put some good time into the bunch, I was feeling great and hoped that something would come of this move. We hit the climb I had been told about at 40km and it went on for a while, but wasn’t anything ridiculous. There was a photographer’s car that kept driving just ahead of us and a cameraman on the back of a motorbike, so I tried to make it look as easy while retaining as much style as possible, I imagined I looked good anyway, time will tell. I saw MG 1km at the side of the road and decided I’d have a pop at it, I’d never been in a position in any race before to win king of the mountains and felt my legs were in good enough shape to give it a good go at least. I positioned myself to move out when I needed to as the road swung round a sharp left with about 300 metres to go and the road steepened notably. I led through the corner and sprinted for all I was worth as the two Côtes d’Armor riders tried to work me over. There was quite a crowd at the top and this gave me a little extra adrenaline to pump up the climb, it must have given the little Côtes d’Armor rider more though as he just edged me going over the line. A little disappointed, but all was not lost, I refuelled with some of the tasty banana bread Nathan baked the day before, it was delicious...he should open a bakery.<br /><br />We had lost the hangers on with the hard effort over the top and the break was now down to 8 and working well. The biggest gap we had was three and a half minutes as we went over the 2nd MG point and I was once again 2nd after being marked by the rider that won the last one. The gap started to come down and one of the riders sat on complaining he had riders coming across. Most of us were still working but the bunch must have been motoring as the gap continued to come down. It lingered at 30 seconds before I finally turned round and saw the horrible sight of the bunch full of riders as fresh as a daisy, but I wasn’t done yet. <br /><br />To cut a long story short, the next bit was pretty hard. It split and came back together constantly as we moved onto the finishing circuit. Legs were starting to protest but I decided they could work harder than they wanted to and followed all the splits. Now I’m about to use what I feel is a poor excuse, but in this case there was nothing I could do about it. Coming into the last lap I had just attacked and latched onto the back of the lead group as we rounded a corner. Getting out of the saddle the back of my right leg decided it wasn’t going to move any further and promptly tightened up like two very small people pulling a rope taught in my leg. I couldn’t pedal and had to watch in desperation as the lead group road away. After frantically massaging my leg and attempting to stretch it out, it let me pedal again, the chase was on.<br /><br />All the cars had come past including our own, so I set about chasing them down first. It took me a while, but I was on a mission and with 1km to go and caught a small group that had been dropped on the final hill before the finish. I thought it wasn’t best to stop there and carried on to win the sprint from this group and put me 11th. Matt had had another great race and won the sprint for his group to put him in 3rd. Two riders were away at the finish, Johan Le Bon took the honours...<br /><br />Once again I did some podium translation for Matt which I enjoyed, although I would have much rather been collecting the trophy. Maybe I’ll be able to next week, Manche-Atlantique, the biggest amateur classic in Britanny...maybe not (But who knows!).<br /><br />Until next time,<br /><br />Carr Out.Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-56820904140384339702009-02-24T08:44:00.000-08:002009-02-24T08:58:46.634-08:00Not a bad start<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nLzodMMc7okz0lmkKBEq44le2HBoN5iQyyZk2DEj3PVMEORaj1jdordmSwIlqHncSZwos1PN1HSs8C1WguUJ58kr_yYd5sGsbaPiFaBdXBmT89BHg_q2nd4RF8zhtMUc62e7-eCGfTWm/s1600-h/prix+d+ouverture.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nLzodMMc7okz0lmkKBEq44le2HBoN5iQyyZk2DEj3PVMEORaj1jdordmSwIlqHncSZwos1PN1HSs8C1WguUJ58kr_yYd5sGsbaPiFaBdXBmT89BHg_q2nd4RF8zhtMUc62e7-eCGfTWm/s320/prix+d+ouverture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306408658361798162" border="0" /></a>
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mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s been a pretty good start, both living wise and cycling wise, more about the cycling wise later but now to tell you about our accommodation. They say it’s always about location, location, location, well this year we have THE location, for what we need anyway. About 60 metres away from 4 whole cafes, 2 mini supermarkets, 200 metres from the clubs meeting point for rides and races and plenty of other stuff we haven’t even found yet. So we’re already doing better than last year, where we were situated 3km from the local supermarket and about 5km from anything else. The accommodation itself is pretty cool, the kitchen was a bit sparse at first but slowly we’ve bought little bits and have been given others. The washing machine arrived today, along with our swanky new microwave. This adds to our fridge/freezer, gas cooker, mini-oven and sink, we’re practically rolling in commodities. The rooms are quite nice too, the apartment has only recently been finished and we are the first people living in it so everything smells like new house...well... that was until we melted the plastic handle on one of our cheap pots and so filled the place with toxic fumes. The only real problem is that one of the rooms is not attached to the actual apartment, you have to go up the drive, up some stairs and into the room to get there, which will mean going to the toilet at night will be a small problem. On the upside, it’s got a double bed; it’s the only room with a nice view (or any view for that matter) and an electric operated blind... sweet.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everyone from the team has been very caring for us as well, at the last team I’m not sure anyone actually knew they had English riders riding for them, but here everyone wants a piece of les Anglais. They’ve fitted us out with more cutlery than we could ever use, plenty of cups and glasses, loads of plates and nice range of pots and pans. Add to that the massive amounts of food our parents have brought over and you’ve got yourself a pretty decent set-up. Everyone I’ve seen has told me to call them if we need anything or want any help, but at the moment we seem to be doing alright! The owner of the apartments even gave us some eggs from his brothers’ farm and told us if we ever wanted any more he’d fill up the box for us!
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<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now time for some cycling, what we came here to do! I got a few rides in before the weekend, but nothing spectacular as my family were still over and I had trouble finding my way around looking at my map at every junction. Matt arrived on the Saturday morning and we got in a short ride in the morning where we were caught by another local club who were out training for the race the next day. We tagged on the back and they said we looked strong after they did a full on effort and we just rode onto the back of them...If only they knew about the cans of whoop-ass that were going to be opened all over them the following day.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our first race would be the Prix d’ouverture, a very local 85km interclub race organised by our club. It was supposed to be more of a training race, but when we arrived everything was set-up on a fantastic scale. Barriers at the finish to hold back the crowd that was actually there, a massive podium (more on that later), and signs for the finish from 400metres to go as well as the obligatory closed roads. To try and emphasise the fact it was a training race, we did 2 laps neutralised before starting the actual distance. All they really did was make people more eager to start killing themselves...especially me. After the jostling for position in these first two laps the flag went down and we were off, off being the correct word. I was near the front and my team mate shouted me to follow his move, I duly did and we led into the first corner after about 800 metres of racing. It had been spitting rain all afternoon and the corners were getting slippy. This was found out by the 5 or so riders following us as we heard the crunching metal behind us. During the commotion another of our riders attacked to get across to us and there were 3 of us up the road with a gap. It was go time and the next 20 minutes were pretty painful. The wind was very strong which made it hard for only 3 riders doing short turns, but being from the same team there was no shirking and we held the small gap we had. In the end we started to pull away as the rest of the guys blocked anything that tried to get across to us. When we finally couldn’t see the bunch behind us I started to wonder what the hell was going on, how had 3 of us from the same team got away, it was the kind of thing you heard about but never actually happened to you. Well here it was, happening, to me. The lead cars pulled out to follow us and it was show time. We kept working, slowly pulling away then dropping back and then pulling away again as the bunch tried to react. With 4 laps to go we were told it was 42 seconds back to one person chasing and the bunch was nowhere. ‘On va gagner’ the more optimistic team mate said to me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then, with 3 laps to go, the gap started to come down, 32 seconds, 20 seconds...what was happening? This wasn’t in the script, the three of us had been out front since kilometre 0 and the legs were starting to fade, especially into the strong headwind round the back of the course. We put the pace up as much as we could, but the bunch was still coming back at us fast. We held it until just before the bell, when we were caught by the peloton that had now been diminished to about 15 riders. I was highly annoyed, all that work for nothing, or so I thought. The counter-attacks came instantly; I sat in following the wheels having lost my winning thoughts as soon as we were caught. The group split all over the place but never really with much conviction and came back together as easily as it had come apart. We then hit the windy section round the back and a few of our guys went up the road including Matt, I left it and covered everything else with one of the guys who had been in the break with me. My legs were hurting by now and cramp was setting in from somewhere, but I soldiered on and started to think about the sprint. I’d worked out we would be coming in for about 5<sup>th</sup> place and thought this was definitely worth a pop, so with 200 metres to go I jumped on the right to try and get a few lengths on everyone. It worked...for about 100 metres, then everyone started to come back on me. 1 put a length and a half into me and then other just made it round which put me in 7<sup>th</sup>.
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<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was better news though. Matt had attacked round the back part of the course and managed to stay away until the finish, winning his first race in France. The team had also taken 2<sup>nd</sup> and 3<sup>rd</sup> in an impressive display, even if it was only an opening season race. I had to go on the podium as translator, even though I hadn’t actually won anything but enjoyed it all the same. It’s all good for the moral anyway, even in the knowledge that next week will be much harder...and longer...and hillier. I should be ready for it, hopefully anyway, maybe this time I’ll win, who knows, although I don’t mind being podium translator, so as long as matt doesn’t learn French I’m ok.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A plus.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-aFjuqAj-OkmgK6ApSt8GKlHphHXpA26hwp83pD4vUAkmLebLfv_KrRUiUG7CM4TFC9KKnlaH1iO4IrZtksIhQrbOkxHF60hGsO05S7FuJTC8UH03E1sC36wAOnKF0N64t2JvRGIgsFw/s1600-h/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-aFjuqAj-OkmgK6ApSt8GKlHphHXpA26hwp83pD4vUAkmLebLfv_KrRUiUG7CM4TFC9KKnlaH1iO4IrZtksIhQrbOkxHF60hGsO05S7FuJTC8UH03E1sC36wAOnKF0N64t2JvRGIgsFw/s320/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306408792673371330" border="0" /></a></p> Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-4239355506974270882009-02-19T06:14:00.000-08:002009-02-19T07:03:42.510-08:00and so it begins...againWell, here we are...again. But this time new location, new team, better legs and new confidence. I write this now from inside the Rural Gite me and my family are staying in for the week just south of Fougeres. Currently it’s a couple of degrees warmer outside than it is inside, it’s not warm outside. The fuse popped about 10 minutes ago because we plugged something in, the house couldn’t cope. It’ll be a couple of decades before central heating graces these parts, but other than this I can’t complain!<br /><br />But before I go on, quite a bit has happened since my last post which seems quite a while ago. The first thing to tell you about is the Reliability (a bit like a sportive, but cheaper) cycle ride I organised to help raise some funds for this year. The day was brisk to say the least, temperatures spent as much time in the decimals as in the single digits, but luckily it was dry and not a bad day for a bike ride. The sun even came out towards the end. The cold didn’t put off a great crowd of people and there were 112 riders signed on for both the longer route and the shorter one. The great thing was people who would never usually ride the distance (57 miles) giving it a go and there were even a crowd of single speed riders who took part...fools. Many thanks to the Red Lion at Bobbington for helping me organise it, so readers, if you need a hotel, want a meal, or fancy a pint around the South Staffordshire region you know where to go....that is the Red Lion if anyone is actually wondering.<br /><br />Also helping me out this year are Michelin Tyres through their distributor Hotlines UK. They are supplying me with some fantastic Michelin Pro3race tyres and tubes to keep me going through the season. It’s help like this which is invaluable for people trying to do what I am and so I am very grateful for their support, so readers, if you need some new tyres or tubes then you know what to get....Michelins (they do the Pro3race in loads of badass colours). So, in summary, a big thanks to everyone who has donated towards my plight in one form or another and if there’s anyone out there that wants me to help with their marketing, I’d be happy to show off your kit!<br /><br />Now, we aren’t quite up to speed yet, but nearly there. Last week I took part in the annual Perfs Pedal Road Race in the south of England near Portsmouth, what is usually considered the cycling season opener. The race itself was a short 74km on pretty flat roads with a full field of 80 riders. I had been looking forward to it as I didn’t feel I was going too bad and wanted to test out the legs and lungs to see if they were actually operating as hoped. Also, there weren’t any really big guns down to do it, so in a way I fancied my chances. The race started off as races do, with early chancers trying to nip off the front, but with the race so short no one was willing to let anything go. I had a couple of goes and followed anything I considered dangerous, but it was to no avail. The course wasn’t hilly enough to really split it up and the field was too negative for anything to happen anyway. So I sat in and waited for the finish like everyone else. That was until 5km to go when a few horse riders decided to go for a walk through the bunch. I don’t like riding past horses at the best of times, but when you’re racing towards them in a big bunch of testosterone seeping blokes in lycra on plastic machines, things get a bit hairy. One bolted backwards and sideways into the road on seeing us, another with a young girl on started to run and wasn’t stopping anytime soon. The front riders had managed to get past without seeing this happen, but the events were unfolding right alongside me and my time was being spent avoiding death by horse.<br /><br />I decided I was much safer in front of them than behind (not that I could stop anyway) and so got past as quickly as I could, it was only after that I heard that the young girl had actually fallen off. Not the safest of scenarios. Well, I was now past the horses and everyone seemed to decide it was race on, those that hadn’t been cut off by horse. I worked my way to the front for the long drag of a finish straight; in all the horse commotion I had missed what would prove to be the vital move. I saw one guy up the road but thought we might catch him by the finish, the sprint sort of started, but then didn’t, it was more of a slow grind up the hill that got faster. I started it 4th wheel and finished 4th wheel with one guy up the road, this made me 5th (ignore the British Cycling result, I was 5th). I was quite happy, first race, decent result and some prize money! It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of that; I certainly didn’t have a long face.....terrible, I know.<br /><br />Since then I’ve been getting my stuff together ready for the off, sorting out my possible place at the University of Leeds during a whistle stop tour of the North. Visiting everyone who I thought might like to see me before I leave the country for several months and just general preparation of affairs. That was until Monday morning, when, at 3.25am my alarm went off telling me to get up and get my ass in gear, it was time to leave the country. This time, due to the distance being a lot less to the town I’d be living in, I was being driven over by my parents. The amount of stuff we put in the car, it’s a wonder I even managed in Alsace, everything; wheels, turbo trainer (why I brought that is anybody’s guess), clothes, kitchen sink, hairdryer, Frisbee, amongst several other things, probably still forgot something integral...like a bike.<br /><br />The journey was pretty quick and easy, 8 hours on a boat is always boring, but being a manly man I handled it with only a few tears. A quick drive from Caen and we arrived at our Gite just south of Fougeres itself in a small place called Le Selle en Luitre. The place obviously wasn’t designed with anyone over 6 foot in mind or 5’9” for that matter, or anyone without a thick layer of fur. So this is where my second adventure in this country of countries begins, Fougeres is a great town with loads of history and a massive castle. Speaking of castles, I sort out my accommodation proper at the end of the week along with my first race; a small interclub one with little to no prestige....my kind of race, time for a win I feel.<br /><br />Until the next time,<br /><br />Laters.<br /><br />PS. Sorry for the lack of photos, I've uploaded this using McDonalds no-so-fast Wifi Connection, but fear not, I will sort it asap.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzq68K4kUWLOPf1KXvLMgiKUls7-OzaFll8h_eMkMZC4qwvZPjYWmSwzlaNAU-GLXfRWs52EaseU5vPqjbsqMPqY09qBOOkUEpKa7-rkHLxoiV1LhmvHJAySYyddf63WGx-VzUzAiznQk/s1600-h/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 116px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzq68K4kUWLOPf1KXvLMgiKUls7-OzaFll8h_eMkMZC4qwvZPjYWmSwzlaNAU-GLXfRWs52EaseU5vPqjbsqMPqY09qBOOkUEpKa7-rkHLxoiV1LhmvHJAySYyddf63WGx-VzUzAiznQk/s320/Michelin+Logo+%282%29.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304523347864783186" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-18446317900092105692009-01-07T07:47:00.001-08:002009-01-07T10:04:04.279-08:00A New Years Update.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bZ7OAbqhU09wW31LhGIip2Q60d8FiacQao-zUxaZ-Cqm8Y5F6jAIJ9YWMBrbI0Xx1eTGwB6ybILAEoW714PnRPG3K6B7hD0QmIUoP8OYxVCGbPB2HbxZrXIPeZB7USW9SNuuSRdtIDdX/s1600-h/fougeres.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bZ7OAbqhU09wW31LhGIip2Q60d8FiacQao-zUxaZ-Cqm8Y5F6jAIJ9YWMBrbI0Xx1eTGwB6ybILAEoW714PnRPG3K6B7hD0QmIUoP8OYxVCGbPB2HbxZrXIPeZB7USW9SNuuSRdtIDdX/s320/fougeres.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288579564598590498" border="0" /></a>
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</style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Well after a long while of being away I have finally returned for an update. Firstly I hope you all had a nice Christmas and New Year and are now preparing for the sunny weather (when and indeed if, it comes). The purpose of this update is to let you all know the developments of the past few months or so. Firstly I have found a new team in Brittany, namely COC Fougeres. A relatively small DN2 set up based in the very East of Brittany, north east of Rennes. Despite the size of the club they have quite a hefty calendar planned which isn’t hard in Brittany due to the sheer number of races available.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After many e-mails with the contact in the team over there we finally agreed to go and visit for a weekend. I should tell you who “we” is really, there will be 3 and a half British riders riding for the team, me, Matt Jones (formerly Pearl Izumi) and Nathan Edmundson (formerly Glendene CC). The half will be Rob Orr who hasn’t got the finances available for a whole season but would like to come over for the occasional weekend to race and will do so under the Fougeres colours. Right, back to our visit. Only me and Matt could make it out of the 4 of us so we set off on our intrepid journey crossing the channel from Portsmouth to St Malo, an 8 hour journey...joy. Luckily on the way there we reserved a cabin and so got a good night’s sleep, but before this we needed to eat.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As we ascended the decks, we came to what we thought must be the one with the restaurants on and to our delight, found the queue to one of them right where we had come out. All we wanted was maybe a fish and chips from the ‘serve yourself’ or whatever seemed reasonable. So we stood in the queue anticipating our meal with hunger until the restaurant opened. As we got to the doors we saw a waiter dressed very smartly leading people in, “this seems a bit posh for fish and chips I thought”...by then it was too late. Me and Matt (still laden with our rucksacks and bags) were led to linen covered table where lots of knives, forks and glasses were nicely laid out; it was here that we got to see the menu. £19.50 for the meal, and that was the cheap one! There was no turning back, we didn’t want to look like cheap skates, not now we had marched in here and been seen by other people so we endured. Luckily the £19.50 included a starter buffet, cheese buffet and dessert buffet where you could take as much as you pleased. After the starters we were given our main course, or at least that’s what we thought it was. It looked like some sort of experiment that involved lamb, a strange yellow liquid and lots of art deco porcelain, needless to say, we felt out of our depth. But despite its appearance it was thoroughly enjoyable and me a Matt proceeded to spend the next one and a half hours making the most out of the dessert buffet and getting our monies worth. It was at this point we realised that the Ferry was yet to move...</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After reaching St Malo, eating breakfast in the nearest Carrefour (we weren’t risking it with ferry prices again) and driving the relatively straight forward route to Fougeres, we found where the team was meeting and were greeted by them returning from their morning activities. Everyone shook hands spoke a bit and then went for some food, after this we suited and booted up for a short ride. The ride was very easy and more like a stroll than a training ride, yet all the French guys afterwards complained of sore legs, ‘ strange’ I thought ‘that was easy’. In the evening we had a nice meal with the friends and family of the team and then went bowling were I managed to remember how rubbish I am at it.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>It was only on the 2<sup>nd</sup> day I would begin to realise why the French guys had been in so much pain. We had been forewarned to bring some clothes for PPG (general physical preparation), namely some running shorts and jogging trousers, but I had hoped that PPG wouldn’t actually involve any running. Unfortunately, I was wrong...very wrong in fact. We ran, or did something as close to cyclists can do to running, to the velodrome on the outskirts of town, about 3km. We then had to run round the velodrome a few times then up and down some steps as fast as we could lots of times, then back to the velodrome. My god I was in pain and still we hadn’t finished. We had to do some timed obstacle kind of things that were more dangerous than anything. We ran up and down the steep bank of the velodrome, picking up a very very heavy bag, running to a cone and back before finally dropping the bag. We then played football, then football with a rugby ball and finally rugby and then had to run back. Torture.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the ride in the afternoon my legs were happy to be doing the thing they enjoyed most, going round in circles. But protested profusely after what I had done to them in the morning. Now I understood why the French guys had been in pain the day before, as they had done a similar effort in the forests. It was painful but at the same time it was supposed to be a bit of fun, so everyone could have something in common, that they didn’t like running, which I appreciated. Afterwards we ate with the Managers of the team and spoke about the coming season and then slept for the journey home. The journey was pretty uneventful, as there’s only so much you can do on a ship for 8 hours, but this time we found the cheap restaurant and had a particularly satisfying fish and chips.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All in all I felt it was a successful trip, everyone was friendly, the kit wasn’t hideously ugly and most surprisingly my French seems to have improved since I came back. I had been meeting a French person once a week to keep it up, but we never went into much depth so I was surprised to find I understood most of what was being said and even more surprised to find myself sending answers back. I suppose it’s because I’m being relied on now, rather than having to rely on someone else. Matt learned just how much he has to learn, but I’m sure he’ll pick it up, hopefully quicker than I did. Hopefully by the time we go back they will have some accommodation sorted and we’ll be picking up results in no time. My legs took 5 days to recover for the beating they took and, oh yes Fougeres itself isn’t a bad place, in fact what we saw or it was very nice indeed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last but not least, as I won’t be funded next year again, to raise some capital I am organising a reliability ride in conjunction with one of my local pubs the Red Lion Inn. It will be a nice scenic and mainly flat but challenging 60 mile route around Staffordshire and Shropshire. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Entry will cost £5 and for that you will get a pint of beer or a bacon Sandwich, happy days.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For more information see the poster for the event here:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><a href="http://www.layer8problem.com/rrp/poster.pdf"><!-- m -->http://www.layer8problem.com/rrp/poster.pdf</a>
<br /><!-- m --><a href="http://www.layer8problem.com/rrp/poster.doc"><!-- m -->http://www.layer8problem.com/rrp/poster.doc</a></p> <!-- m --> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hope you can make it and watch out for the full recommencement of the Blog when the racing season starts, But until then,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Goodbye
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqN47Xxt6dvxBPrHhI20TxUI46hnkiEJKaBPWG7V2g2CVLeNv8QDkCWHKJ9v3wNUzQV85pzmA6ayty3fpdvg4rVbwnEBYdIVcX3w1nTtfiPaeG7SqVPpPpDBj1pmp3tJ4YHjPfNspWElyR/s1600-h/home.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 51px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqN47Xxt6dvxBPrHhI20TxUI46hnkiEJKaBPWG7V2g2CVLeNv8QDkCWHKJ9v3wNUzQV85pzmA6ayty3fpdvg4rVbwnEBYdIVcX3w1nTtfiPaeG7SqVPpPpDBj1pmp3tJ4YHjPfNspWElyR/s320/home.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288579921743371410" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<br />Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-43525082588687815452008-09-12T02:45:00.000-07:002008-09-12T02:54:57.582-07:00Le dernier fois<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ItGgRP7K3Cfgq6Mb0Rzl5fp2-HI-JvDRXKKk9ZMDYmD2osho_ZBh95JqrP5FPy46ufm5LAb8NQYfiBs9DgzQ4sVgKEu8elB0EV5kw5Bi6DZkP6ZlL5NH9bFx4KCZnJP75BJ6wavqZ_us/s1600-h/broke.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ItGgRP7K3Cfgq6Mb0Rzl5fp2-HI-JvDRXKKk9ZMDYmD2osho_ZBh95JqrP5FPy46ufm5LAb8NQYfiBs9DgzQ4sVgKEu8elB0EV5kw5Bi6DZkP6ZlL5NH9bFx4KCZnJP75BJ6wavqZ_us/s320/broke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245069667634736802" border="0" /></a>not mine by the way but similar<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQPHA5mwcTLqdMlf93mgivxa9EDeD56tmkC7y-bkyckdD9S0iU8gjVQRTG9N9XkPq4DMcNaNbWxDKYybXEtK6E3BQobFQZTEHXze_BFNSnj_K4QgPmJrqoQ3fvfv3MD5rzUKxzIxtAHIb/s1600-h/DSCF0200.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQPHA5mwcTLqdMlf93mgivxa9EDeD56tmkC7y-bkyckdD9S0iU8gjVQRTG9N9XkPq4DMcNaNbWxDKYybXEtK6E3BQobFQZTEHXze_BFNSnj_K4QgPmJrqoQ3fvfv3MD5rzUKxzIxtAHIb/s320/DSCF0200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245069156194998786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I write to you from a train heading towards Birmingham New Street after a flight into London Stansted. Sadly, my stay in France has come to unfortunate end. My collar bone decided to take a lot longer to fix than first thought, not helped by my own antics at times, forcing me to rethink my priorities. After what I thought would be my last visit to the French hospital, I was told that I needed to wear my splint for another two weeks and not ride for another month. Not the best news for a cyclist. This meant I wouldn’t be able to race until the end of September leaving me 2 or 3 races at the most. I came to the conclusion that this wouldn’t be worth it, as even if I got to do 3 or more races I wouldn’t have anywhere near the required form to compete due to the forced lay-off. So I set about making plans to return home.<br /><br />Not being able to do anything was too much for me; I walked into town for something to do and started to regularly finish games of Spider Solitaire on expert level. You know you’re bored when this starts happening. Not being able to ride meant I was no longer enjoying it, if I’m not enjoying it then is it worth it? I decided I’d rather be at home than moping around in France. Fortunately before I returned home, my sister came to visit for a few days and we had a whale of a time. The highlight was visiting the Baden-Baden thermal spa which is absolutely amazing. I would recommend including it in your itinerary for a day if you ever visit the area, I’d even say it was worth going out of your way to visit it such were the niceties of pools of water at different temperatures.<br /><br />After my sister returned home, the club had their annual Elite National race on so I was to help out in some way. I was a little sad as this was supposed to be my comeback race and by this time I had already booked my flight home. I accompanied the lead car driver and duly made him go in the wrong direction when it came to the first turning. Fortunately this was my only mistake and the race went smoothly otherwise. The organisation was superb for a place to place race; all the team involved in the organisation had meals ready for them before the race. The convoy was planned meticulously and it was a great idea having a car dealership as a sponsor allowing their cars to be used as official vehicles. One day I’d like to organise a race and so it was good to see how it is from the other side, rather than just turning up, wearing Lycra and pedalling until my legs hurt. I would have rather been riding though.<br /><br />Thankfully the team did well although just missing out on the win, in the 8 man break we had 3 and against 2 from the other local big guns CC Etupes. We knew if it came to a sprint they would win, so with 30 km to go, 2 of our guys started putting constant attacks in to try and wear them down. It was great to watch from what I could see. Then with 5km to go our guy who had been saving himself put in an effort and took an Etupes rider with him. They ended up sprinting it out for the win, but Nicolas Boisson was too strong and so we took 2nd 4th and 6th. A pity, but a great result none the less in the clubs organised race.<br /><br />After the race, My Manager took me out for a meal at the local restaurant with some of the other race officials. He said he wanted to give me a good impression of the French people before I left, it certainly worked! I had a nice time eating the local delicacy Tarte Flambee, which fittingly, had been what I had eaten when I first arrived at the Team Sponsors house all those months ago. After cleaning out the apartment and packing all my stuff I said goodbye to Alsace for the time being and headed home.<br /><br />This year has been a great experience for me I think and has brought me on 200% as a rider, so it’s a shame it had to come to such a foolish end...playing Frisbee. I have to thank the team for taking me on and supporting me so much with everything, I would have been pretty stuffed without them. Also, thanks to everyone else that’s helped me out while I’ve been over here offering support and advice. I can guarantee it’s all been gladly received and utilised. And finally thanks to you guys (if anyone does in fact read this) for giving me something to do and look forward to after I had done my races. Next season I hope to be over there again, in France that is, whether or not with the same team I don’t know, so maybe they’ll be a part 2 yet...<br /><br />Until the next time,<br /><br />Good bye, au revoir et a la prochaine.<br /><br /><br />PS, CHANCE OF A LIFETIME<br />The team are looking for another rider next year to take on, if you are interested send your CV and palmares (preferably in French and English) etc to me at: alijcarr@hotmail.com<br />I can tell you this is a great opportunity not to be missed if you want to take your riding to the next level. The team has a great calendar and offers a huge amount of support, if you want to know exactly what they offer you can e-mail me for details aswell.<br /><br />PSS Many thanks to Dave Legrys for putting me up for the night after my flight and everyone else who offered to.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsd-IkQG7mYFW0dGbWCJKSQtXZwtLZEOMVAudQayimP2GiIs9hDKZe-H2ObYYO3ew7Md_C0B9u6UmOdKEDYmL-LkRE_hvdgb1E0bbuJ68Hxa_15I24pqj9CQ-EBWkS1jBR2wutTeLfvhf/s1600-h/DSCF0201.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIsd-IkQG7mYFW0dGbWCJKSQtXZwtLZEOMVAudQayimP2GiIs9hDKZe-H2ObYYO3ew7Md_C0B9u6UmOdKEDYmL-LkRE_hvdgb1E0bbuJ68Hxa_15I24pqj9CQ-EBWkS1jBR2wutTeLfvhf/s320/DSCF0201.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245070017283260354" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-65968607921113478482008-08-21T09:59:00.000-07:002008-08-21T14:09:17.623-07:00Feel my pain.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyetpbkqyXa2pYGGBHS-erMF9g76LesnLIobmVjtoL6rDqXfQV0Vu6b-mAQ6d-sRC7t0lyXexwHnQFuvBAULTUn0sSrMm6Z_1mMay5o6YaZLJdJkEZM7yv6hqR3IvhStuSuw1_V1zgex2K/s1600-h/team+pursuit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyetpbkqyXa2pYGGBHS-erMF9g76LesnLIobmVjtoL6rDqXfQV0Vu6b-mAQ6d-sRC7t0lyXexwHnQFuvBAULTUn0sSrMm6Z_1mMay5o6YaZLJdJkEZM7yv6hqR3IvhStuSuw1_V1zgex2K/s320/team+pursuit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237018241076679458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkTks3suPThHf-M1JzqKLgeM1fIuUqZ_M6itvOJL4x1KL6dsgG2gwmXzmuLW4UjAtJ09kR6ScuqG_KB4AdBjj_8kNkkewSw6LDzSk-L38OzjxG3tzQNGFIDCAgGGN_TNUc625tSRJuII5z/s1600-h/DSCF0182.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkTks3suPThHf-M1JzqKLgeM1fIuUqZ_M6itvOJL4x1KL6dsgG2gwmXzmuLW4UjAtJ09kR6ScuqG_KB4AdBjj_8kNkkewSw6LDzSk-L38OzjxG3tzQNGFIDCAgGGN_TNUc625tSRJuII5z/s320/DSCF0182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237017223636692386" border="0" /></a>What a week it’s been for British Cycling, dominating the track racing in just about every possible fashion. In fact the only events we didn’t win were the ones where nothing is guaranteed, but I’m sure work will be done to make this possible. Hopefully now people will be inspired as I was 4 years ago and possibly take up this most fulfilling of sports and, hopefully, of those people there will be one that is a future Olympic champion, only time will tell. The track racing has been the highlight of my day for the past few days. I got up at 8 every morning to be on the turbo for 9 and finished for when the racing started at 10.30. That is, when the French decided to show it. Saying that, I think the whole world was in awe and so they did show a little more than they usually might.<br /><br />And that’s pretty much all the cycling I have to talk about, apart from the epic events that have taken place between me, the bike and my turbo trainer. That’s right, I think the best incentive not to crash is to know that you will have to spend at least an hour on the turbo if you break anything. Maybe it should be instated as some sort of punishment, because that’s what it is, torture. In fact I don’t think the UN would allow it under the Genève Convention. It’s a well known fact that time slows down dramatically once you park your ass on the turbo and even more so when you decide to make any kind of effort. I think if a scientific study were done, it would show that perception of time increases at an exponential rate for every extra watt you put out. All cyclists know (or should do anyway) what I’m talking about. Most only use the turbo when the weather is bad in the winter and this is bad enough. Now imagine it being the only thing you can do to keep fit....every day....for two weeks....in the summer. The mere thought of it should make you ride safer in the peloton, or stop playing Frisbee...and rightly so. I could go on, but you get the picture...I hate the turbo.<br /><br />Nevertheless, I have endeavoured to keep race fit and this means using it, much to my distress. So for the moment its mano-a-turbo until I can finally get on the road again. I fashioned myself a sling out of an inner tube to stop my ‘hospital figure of 8 splint’ from getting sweaty, bought myself an ipod (nano 4GB, finally dragging myself into the 21st century) and got on with it. I managed one and half hours once, it was a new record for me in one sitting. I’ve even done two sessions in one day, although the second session is mostly spent questioning myself on what the hell I’m doing rather than actually training. A great perk of living in an apartment block is that when I do my training in the communal driveway thing, everyone gets a good view of my efforts. What they must think when they take the short walk to their cars, only to see a grunting, sweating idiot on a bike going nowhere, god only knows. The most I can muster is in out on breath “Bonjour” and they stare at me in what I imagine must be disbelief.<br /><br />Now, onto the question I know you’ve all been wondering about...next year. It’s time for me to start thinking about next season and what I plan on doing. I’ve already deferred my university place, so dossing about is a given, but where am I to doss? That is the question. I have enjoyed my time here, although where I have been situated in relation to hubs of human activity has been a bit of a problem. But cycling wise, I have taken part in some of the biggest amateur races in France and even some small pro ones. Not many first year riders abroad do what I have done and it’s really brought me on as a rider. I would enjoy doing the same things next year, but at the same time I’d like to try something different. I think this year I’ve built myself up and next year I’d like to really put all my efforts into actually doing well rather than being an also ran that managed to finish (or not as the case may be). The hotbed of racing in Brittany is very attractive prospect and I’d really like to give it a go. The idea of not having to travel more than 2 hours to a race is also something that attracts me, having spent more time here travelling than racing. But once again, with this team I can look forward to a rich calendar which couldn’t be guaranteed by a smaller team. I’ll have to consider my options and make a decision that I feel best suits me.<br /><br />And then what? I think two seasons will be enough to see what I’m really capable of and see how far I can possibly take it. My university place is for 2009 entry so I’ll have to make my mind up. I think once I reach this stage next year I’ll have to make an assessment and an important decision. But until that time I’ll keep riding my bike and seeing how I do. Wish me well.<br /><br />Until next time,<br /><br /><pre style="font-family: courier new;"><b><b>Chok lepm lepm lepm<br /><br /></b></b></pre>PS, here's the video of my week in the alps: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ypfYbqj-Q0Q<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlV0uFY_GKXcS6mIcnqdU-67fpmjXEQuX9G2DL8xL3T6AgYEiAOSTC_vemN0kR3n0ai4bHDasAINb2zigTPFd2WUEEf9X-S4x6RPjZEv4G3RtKYVnF_66-uiTFnPdIqwZ_r6ytDsndtpH5/s1600-h/DSCF0183.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlV0uFY_GKXcS6mIcnqdU-67fpmjXEQuX9G2DL8xL3T6AgYEiAOSTC_vemN0kR3n0ai4bHDasAINb2zigTPFd2WUEEf9X-S4x6RPjZEv4G3RtKYVnF_66-uiTFnPdIqwZ_r6ytDsndtpH5/s320/DSCF0183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237018580553724322" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-54835286752462378842008-08-12T11:14:00.001-07:002008-08-12T11:22:07.312-07:00Broken dreams and Olympic bones<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTcwDH85GtkSQicgy7Cz8ODG4eQRbGyLo44KHkiFg5_4CtDFzNYe8UvYcNHxqNC8kxMb006PcL4LdESySPId_RDdsiRnUsWn39TFca55hJMiRhHuTj3xjj9-mXWAgBjRjjzdzjCeGnYZg/s1600-h/TeamGB_fullstrapline_360x2702.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTcwDH85GtkSQicgy7Cz8ODG4eQRbGyLo44KHkiFg5_4CtDFzNYe8UvYcNHxqNC8kxMb006PcL4LdESySPId_RDdsiRnUsWn39TFca55hJMiRhHuTj3xjj9-mXWAgBjRjjzdzjCeGnYZg/s320/TeamGB_fullstrapline_360x2702.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233696503914362258" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG8kRmRZrEqRvn7_9fGUXpd7P2LvePdnfEZF53_TAeHRIxAGc4oE9PNM52F7jgQrz3du3CFjtRjcYZENo0ojKIn3ut-U17hiu_B-eKQy0vRNnJ-RaUQ0apbYphC8RR3K7L4UzNXQ92Skz/s1600-h/800px-Olympic_Rings.svg.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG8kRmRZrEqRvn7_9fGUXpd7P2LvePdnfEZF53_TAeHRIxAGc4oE9PNM52F7jgQrz3du3CFjtRjcYZENo0ojKIn3ut-U17hiu_B-eKQy0vRNnJ-RaUQ0apbYphC8RR3K7L4UzNXQ92Skz/s320/800px-Olympic_Rings.svg.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233696372223613986" border="0" /></a>Oh dear, how things can change so quickly, for the better or worse. Last Wednesday for me it was for worse. During a fateful game of ultimate Frisbee at the campsite where my parents were staying, a wayward throw from my brother ended in disaster. Running to stop it from going into someone else’s pitch I couldn’t stop, hit a post in the ground, smacked my head against the caravan and somewhere during this most graceful of falls, broke my collar bone. I didn’t even stop the damn Frisbee. Yes, yes, I know, I’m an idiot... yes, yes, I’m sure the team are happy, but unfortunately these kinds of things occasionally happen. An interesting trip to the hospital confirmed what I suspected, although I wasn’t entirely sure of exactly everything they were saying. An even more interesting phone call to the hospital the next day organised an appointment for the next week. I say organised, It was more a question of repeating myself until they gave me a date for something. There was much hilarity at both ends of the phone as they passed it between themselves trying to say something I understood well enough, funnily enough they all ended up saying the same thing.<br /><br />Obviously this means no riding for a few weeks (trois bonne semaine), but hopefully I’ll be on a turbo soon enough (I never thought I’d say that!). I enjoyed the rest of my time my family was over doing various things and going out for a meal, but as soon as they left the boredom set in. In fact they only left two days ago, but it feels like a week. Even a one hour ride broke up the day a little bit, luckily the Olympics have started and so I have something to watch on TV. The Olympics also brings me onto the subject of my blog this week (decided after a conversation with another Brit in France at the moment, Josh Andjelkovic and because I have no cycling to talk about), which is how and why I started cycling in the first place.<br /><br />Imagine, 4 years ago, give or take a week, the Carr family are on one of their famous caravanning holidays, this time down near Lands end. The weather is typical of that of a British summer, bleak. Instead of an outing to a nearby landmark we are instead huddled around the small television we have brought down watching the Olympics. An event that has always fascinated me as it appeals to my sense of scale, the best of the best of the best and yet still human. During that holiday I formulated the idea that I wanted to compete in the Olympics one day, doing what I didn’t know, but I wanted to be part of it. We watched several events, none of which I thought would suit my physique, I was never going to be a boxer and my archery skills had never been tested. But later on the track cycling events came on. We watched Bradley Wiggins storm to victory in the individual pursuit, the gold of his full set of Olympic medals that year. Something about this appealed to me, the roar of the crowds as they chased each other round the track, the incredible speeds they were going and surely it couldn’t be that hard? Cycling was what I was going to do at the Olympics one day, I decided there and then. I was 15 at the time and had always been ambitious (not that I’ve lost any of that), but this was a snap decision, influenced by nothing other than what I’d seen on the TV. I was determined to see it through and so the next day when I woke up and hadn’t forgotten about it I got on my dad’s mountain bike and rode the mile or so to the shop down the road to fetch some stuff. It felt like a marathon! I was in a state when I got back but I knew it wasn’t going easy, a future Olympian must work and train hard if they are to win.<br /><br />The rest of the holiday was eagerly spent waiting to get home and get on a proper road bike; I needed to start straight away if I was to stand any chance of getting anywhere. My parents wouldn’t buy me a bike as they thought it was just another fad that would soon pass. Instead I managed to borrow one from a friend that had done triathlons; it was far too small for me, but that didn’t matter, I was king of the road. I got some Lycra shorts and a cycling top for my birthday (a step into the unknown for a 16 year old boy) and now I looked the part. All I needed to do now was get good. I joined the local cycling club, Wolverhampton Wheelers, and started to go on some club runs. The first one I went on I forgot the shoes I was borrowing (my mum drove me to the meeting point) and so had to do the first 25 miles in my trainers...on SPD pedals....good times. The chairman at the club at the time, Robin Kyte, decided I might have an ounce of talent and helped me out with all sorts of things, from training to mechanics, but mainly mechanics (to this day I am useless at fixing my bike). He helped me start racing that next season, 2005; I was a first year junior and a long way behind these people who had ridden for years. This was shown up when I competed in my first junior national series event (my first proper road race). The Sid Standard memorial was 16 laps of a circuit making up 120km, a distance that, at the time, meant nothing as I was dropped after 3 laps and nearly lapped twice before eventually pulling out.<br /><br />I soldiered on though and got better, throwing myself in at the deep-end whenever possible. This is how I learnt and how I am still learning, by trying what I don’t consider myself capable of doing. The rest, as they say, is history, although not a particularly long one. I still haven’t stopped dreaming of competing in the Olympics, although now, the way British Cycling run the show, Its extremely unlikely I’ll ever get my chance. Not that I knock it entirely, BC run the best track squad in the world by far and it’s something to be very proud of, but if you aren’t in, you’re out and it’s hard to keep up with riders that are given all the support when you are given none. But representing my country is still the ultimate for me, it sounds strange, turning pro would be great but I’d love to be given a Great Britain kit to ride in. Hell, I’d buy the kit and pay my expenses if it meant doing what I wanted (If you are from British Cycling and reading this, I am serious). Maybe it’s not so good once you are doing it, but if anyone on the GB squad thinks this, I’d gladly take their place.<br /><br />Thinking about it, it’s strange that I started cycling just because I watched the Olympics and actually got so far. At that age a lot of things were fads for me that I’d start and stop within the month, if not the week. Most cyclists are from cycling families, but my parents were canoeists, my mum loved the slalom and my dad did some flat water racing (I believe). But my granddad (John Bird, but known to us as gramps) was a cyclist, this I only learned after I started. He was one of the founder members of the BLRC having worked for Percy Stallard and used to ride his bike everywhere. He once told me he was invited to do a time trial down near London, but could only afford the train fair home. He had to ride down with his race wheels strapped to his forks, compete and then get the train back. These were times when this was pretty normal, but I still think they make the cyclists of today look like wimps. I always enjoy listening to his stories, of which there are many and think about all the times he must have ridden the same roads as me at one point, because he has ridden pretty much all the roads that exist and no longer exist in and around the West Midlands. He still manages to get out on his bike very occasionally, although not quite as fast as he used to at the grand age of 82.<br /><br />Hopefully, I’ll still be cycling at that age, but right now I have a bone that needs fixing before I can get in the saddle and break the monotony of a day doing nothing.<br /><br />Until next time,<br /><br /><br />Sjáumst síðar<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkGScnyd6LGeXhai_3-itBUCFLkbGSX3l8TGDUB9lTJEKwwwqdbboLZcwis040jXiEmnkWSBMFq_osecTlo5FyXVmYtmyxtzwzB79Q5WUhKNIuOlfdKslNn6J02wQi-0B6mR6IwM4zAH9/s1600-h/nicole.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkGScnyd6LGeXhai_3-itBUCFLkbGSX3l8TGDUB9lTJEKwwwqdbboLZcwis040jXiEmnkWSBMFq_osecTlo5FyXVmYtmyxtzwzB79Q5WUhKNIuOlfdKslNn6J02wQi-0B6mR6IwM4zAH9/s320/nicole.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233697868853279106" border="0" /></a><br />Nice one Nicole!Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-62420721113958111002008-08-04T02:42:00.000-07:002008-08-12T11:23:00.664-07:00All over the shop.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ypGQQbfzmAGMkvHrsE_ak3Gm0saked378FbzeSCYDfvPY9_3BMQYzo9kZu8w1bM6mEdx0oh5Ipibt48n4cKfdQhTzisxK5duKm3sa20YVDEY2SIfGJjg_a-ibtYmCWuj8362S_miUdEv/s1600-h/galibier.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ypGQQbfzmAGMkvHrsE_ak3Gm0saked378FbzeSCYDfvPY9_3BMQYzo9kZu8w1bM6mEdx0oh5Ipibt48n4cKfdQhTzisxK5duKm3sa20YVDEY2SIfGJjg_a-ibtYmCWuj8362S_miUdEv/s320/galibier.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230599680323016082" border="0" /></a>
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mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> </p>Well here it is, the latest I’ve been so far with my blogs. I’m getting very slack; maybe it’s some kind of mid season blog mental block....or I’m just lazy, I don’t know? It’s difficult trying to remember where I was last when I wrote my last one, obviously I was sitting at my desk typing it but in a passage of time sense of place, it marches relentlessly on. What I do know is though that a lot has happened since my last episode, much merriment and little racing equalling something between form and fitness. I will begin where I left off, leading up to the teams most local race, The Haguenau criterium.
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<br />This race was pretty much must win for us as a team, a Remy meder rider has won it every time for the past five years and anything but first place would be an embarrassment. So at the start we had a pretty much full complement of riders along with various juniors and other seniors from the club section. The brief was simple, win, easier said than done though! At the start I took a last minute “refreshment” break with a local tree, this meant I ended up being at the back for the start while the rest of my team lined up at the front. Bummer. This was soon forgotten though after 2 laps, I sprinted inside everyone cornering like something might corner if it was really hungry...or something (similes were never my thing). This got me to the front quick enough, but by this time three had already gone off the front and I had no idea who. I asked my teammates but no one seemed to know who was up the road and quickly gaining time. By this point I had settled into the corner, sprint, corner, sprint routine and it was time to start some sprint, sprint, corner, sprinting. I countered a few moves, followed a few more, went backwards a bit, then forwards a bit more, until finally attacking into a corner a group of us got away. About 15 of us all together with no less than four of us from team Remy meder, including me...hurrah! We worked sporadically and the three leaders were obviously more constant, maintaining the gap and pulling away. The group wasn’t cohesive enough and a few attacks later it was down to about 9 or 10 and I was still there. Still the pace wasn’t constant enough and the bunch was starting to pull us back, but the race was also drawing to an end. Some more last ditch attacks brought the group down to 6 of us 3 from team Remy meder and 3 from the local rivals ASPTT Mulhouse. We attacked the hell out of each other, but with 7 laps to go the relentless peloton swept us up and ¾ of race freedom were now over...time for a sprint!
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<br />At first I decided against getting involved with the sprint, but then I started to think “why not? I’ve got the legs!” And so began the endless moving up and jostling that is a bunch sprint. With 3 laps to go I was getting into the right place, about the 3rd line of riders and moving up whenever possible. Things were getting a little risky and the skills were definitely necessary to pay the bills. With two laps to go I was on the left coming into a section where the road suddenly narrowed due to being in a town centre. I had been worried about this section at the start of the race, but being off the front had somewhat forgotten it. The big bunch tried to suddenly go from one width to one about one metre narrower, but it was never going to happen. Spokes and derailleur’s came together, handlebars became entangled and riders started to hit the deck to the right of me. I remember thinking “I sure as hell hope they don’t fall this way”, but alas, they did. They sprawled over the road making the path available for me to go forwards somewhat narrower...about 3cm. This gap continued to shrink and so the harsh reality hit that I was about to crash, well it had to happen sometime...best make it look good. I surfed my bike along the ground and onto the pavement using only the bars as a contact point and conducting a “hang 5” in the process. As a result I slowly arose with only minors scrapes and some gashed bar tape, vaguely remembering I had been competing in some sort of cycling event. With only two laps remaining, the race had finished before I got back on the saddle and pedalled round to the crowds. I found out that of the three away one of them had been from our team and had ended up winning the race! Result! Now I felt great being from the winning team and having the battle wounds of a great crash to show the crowds...they lapped it up. After riding home in the dark it was time to get some rest in as some of my friends had come over from England to take me down to the Alps to watch The Tour Baby!!!
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<br />We started out with the six hour drive down there, which was accompanied by severe rain, so severe in fact that you couldn’t drive more than 30 mph on the autoroutes due to the fact nothing could be seen more than 5 metres ahead of you. The trip also involved a 30 euro fee for the pleasure of visiting Switzerland, luckily they gave us 5 Swiss francs for change (what the hell we were supposed to do with these was anybody’s guess). Once there, we pitched up, set up camp then went off to find alcohol and food. The week consisted of much of this, but we also did some riding. In fact on the Tuesday the three of us and special guest Ben Lane, decided to do the Marmotte loop. If you aren’t familiar with this, it’s 175km of riding taking in 4 major cols, The Col du Glandon, the Col du Telegraphe, the Col du Galibier and finally the mythical Alpe D’Huez. Pretty standard stuff... Thankfully the weather was kind to us, the sun was out but it wasn’t too hot and apart from the summit of the Galibier being bitterly cold everything was good. After a couple of stops we got round the whole loop in top top shape and even sprinted for the sign going back down Alpe d’Huez (not really, we were wrecks, mere hollows of our former selves).
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<br />The next day we went to watch the people who get paid to do it ride a similar route backwards. Getting up Alpe d’Huez was quite bizarre, at first we were told to get off and walk, but then we found out it was ok to ride and then we were told to get off and walk. It seemed as if their willingness to let you ride was directly linked to how self-righteous the gendarme felt. Half way up, to please the crowds, I cracked open a beer, refreshingly warm by now in the near 30 degree heat. I rode with it through the Dutch section, by now their party was in full swing and they were playing loud music and cheering anyone on anything that resembled a bicycle. I can honestly say that riding between them was one of, if not the best experience I’ve had on a bike, it was amazing. Just after them was a man holding a piece of what looked like malt loaf on a line and hook. Spurred on by the Dutch, I made many an effort to bite it off the hook, but failed. Fortunately my attempts weren’t in vain as the next day my antics were printed in the French paper. We watched the pros go up in their poxy 25s wishing I had had one rather than my 23 to use the day before (I’m sure I was going faster than they were anyway). The rest of the trip was spent enjoying ourselves and making acquaintances with some nice Dutch girls, also cyclists, on our campsite... we were sad to leave.
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<br />But, as soon as I arrived back in Haguenau, I was greeted by my family who had come over for a 2 week holiday to see me so the spirits were soon high again. My legs were feeling good during my training sessions (although god knows how) and I was looking forward to racing again after what had seemed like a long break. The time soon came and the Prix de Authoison was a 120km race was a 20 lap race of 6 kilometres with a short but tough rise every lap. The attacks came from the gun and I was following them and feeling good. A group of 5 got away immediately and I was looking to get across to them somehow. After about 4 laps I saw my chance, one rider I recognised as being a favourite had one of those 5 metres gaps off the front that you know you shouldn’t really give him otherwise he might notice and ride off. I put in a big effort and went past him a lot faster than he was going, but he got the message along with 10 or so others. I kept it going for a couple of miles and hurt myself trying to make sure we got a good gap. We had the front 5 in sight and now the attacks were starting to come from our group to get across. It wasn’t a matter of being the strongest (although obviously this helps) but getting in the right move that managed to bridge across, something my willingness to ride hard doesn’t help occasionally. When the move went I missed it and I was stuck in the second peloton, but worse things were about to happen. With the number 14 on the lap board the structure of the race had all but been decided, but sprinting out of a corner I felt my heart skip a beat and the flutter that I have come to learn is the start of a series of palpitations.
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<br />These are caused by the wall that regulates the electric pulse in my heart being slightly more porous than a regular one. A sudden change in level (for example standing up from sitting down or getting out of the saddle to sprint) can trigger the electric pulse to go round in a loop rather than simply travelling through the heart. This increases my heart rate by a huge amount and when really trying hard I have seen it reach 230 beats per minute and 180 while freewheeling for 10 minutes. While I am having these palpitations I feel extremely fatigued, like I have already been racing 80 miles and it means an average through and off effort feels like trying to climb an alp. Once they have started it’s hard to say when they will stop, another sudden change in level is necessary, but when they do stop it’s like nothing ever happened. I have been told I can put an end to it by having a surgical procedure that burns the hole in the wall and stops the loop, although with a small element of risk as with any surgical procedure.
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<br />Anyway, the palpitations didn’t stop and the next 12 laps were sheer pain. Going up the small incline meant destroying myself just to hold on to our small group while everyone else went up there steady. I had to sit on to try and conserve what I had, which was close on nothing and with two and a half laps remaining I was dropped on the climb. The rest of the lap was incredibly slow as without other riders nothing could help me go any faster and with 2 laps to go I pulled out, my heart rate still at 190bpm. Annoyingly I had felt really good in the opening laps (I know, always the case when you have a problem mid-race) and was hoping to do well, but these things happen.
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<br />In other news I baked a cake, a coconut cake to be exact, one of my grannies special recipes. It turned out great and I was very proud of it. Next week 3 races in 4 days, two of them Elite Nationals, so it’ll be going from not much racing to too much...Should be fun!
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<br />Until next time (whenever that may be),
<br /><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style=""></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">
<br />Adjiis
<br /></span></p> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkFCHvoKO1GJf0-Z6S1xtgfwTlYpn9YckEwLr3rKrn03eQmZDckhfRGcZNXQ6-4eFaWFrbCKaou8bJ0uN7NnUJvW1DfW30YX-7GHQeWwSgDzVaJd19lBti1qg3Ta5xslKQ6yhQoTv3Pavn/s1600-h/DSCF0173.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkFCHvoKO1GJf0-Z6S1xtgfwTlYpn9YckEwLr3rKrn03eQmZDckhfRGcZNXQ6-4eFaWFrbCKaou8bJ0uN7NnUJvW1DfW30YX-7GHQeWwSgDzVaJd19lBti1qg3Ta5xslKQ6yhQoTv3Pavn/s320/DSCF0173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230600289749273234" border="0" /></a></p>
<br />Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-61222675249706544762008-07-15T12:32:00.000-07:002008-07-15T12:51:53.120-07:00France encore<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabnjMKhWqMynOU0Ue70-L3hs0svvtkuDxq6pnStb6o_YoCSa9bNWLbTEpYmaeQkFMoeRRYV6DS-Odw8kf86LaGlOw7A0Phyphenhyphens_sSkslSPe_4dpxZ223LGbH_pKlq3ADsAmxc7GenaRsJ1q/s1600-h/bastille.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabnjMKhWqMynOU0Ue70-L3hs0svvtkuDxq6pnStb6o_YoCSa9bNWLbTEpYmaeQkFMoeRRYV6DS-Odw8kf86LaGlOw7A0Phyphenhyphens_sSkslSPe_4dpxZ223LGbH_pKlq3ADsAmxc7GenaRsJ1q/s320/bastille.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223330800410960434" border="0" /></a>
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table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Well you may or may not have noticed that I didn’t write a blog last week, if you did then well done, if you didn’t then you aren’t paying enough attention. Anyway I decided to take a rest week for various reasons, mainly because there wasn’t much to write about. After my nationals race I planned to take a rest week, so what did I do? Went out training, that’s what. Mainly due to boredom and having nothing else to do, I ended up doing quite a lot when the weather was nice although nothing too intense. But on the weekend my relaxation began, first with some drinking of my favourite alcoholic beverage in the world, Bathams, with some friends. Then on the Saturday evening it was down to my auntie and uncles, who were having a big 25<sup>th</sup> wedding anniversary party....with a free bar. The best ale on tap was Spitfire, so many a pint of this was drunk to while the night away, many awesome dances took place and much buffet food was stuffed down.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">On returning home I didn’t ride much due<span style="font-family:georgia;"> t</span>o bad weather and getting ready to go back, although I managed to sneak in a quick couple of hours. Unfortunately on the day I returned back to France our dog, Poppy, had to be let go after a tumour was found on her liver. This hit all of us pretty hard, and so it should have as we had all grown up with her around. It made my departure even more depressing although my family knew they’d be seeing me again soon when they come to visit for a couple of weeks later on in the month. We got back without a hitch and the weather was instantly blazing, be it only for a day. The next day we went out for a leg loosener which was great for the first half, but as the ride progressed we found ourselves moving the direction of a rather large, rather dark cloud. This happily dumped its contents on us all in one go with some pretty big rain drops. Fortunately it was still pretty warm and the rain was actually rather refreshing. We then got a nice longer ride in with a nice big hill to prepare for our first race back on Bastille Day.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">This race was to be a particularly hilly affair with two climbs of 5km plus. Obviously being a climber, (6’4”(possibly more now I haven’t measured myself for a while)) I didn’t mind (that’s a joke by the way, although you might not have realised because I broke the sentence up so much with other sentences in brackets.). </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">After not having raced for two weeks, I really didn’t know what to expect. I had done that training after the nationals, but however hard you go, training isn’t racing. I also felt like I was in a bit of a trough during the rides previous, I felt fit but not fast.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But during the first part of the race I felt good, I sat in until it went uphill and was able to follow the accelerations on the smaller earlier hill closing gaps that had been left with a smile on my face. I followed a few moves and went on my own a couple of times but nothing came of it. We then got towards the first big climb of the day, it rose steadily for a long time and here a few attacks were made that caused my legs to hurt. It turned onto the main climb and I was ok and near the front although my legs were beginning to hurt. I seem to have a problem with hills where I can’t see the top while racing, I lose my will to hurt myself more as I know it will just lead to even more pain. This is something that hit me again going up the climb and I started to slip backwards, the trend continued until about 1km from the top where a group caught me and let me stay on the front. Just before the top I put in an effort to get the speed going again to try and start catching everyone else and ended jumping away, catching the lead group with some others including Tom about 5km before the chase group. Going backwards made me start to doubt what I had in the tank, I held in easily enough but things were starting to hot up and I was beginning to cool down.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">We then got onto the 2<sup>nd</sup> big climb which wasn’t too steep at all for the first few kilometres, but it was steep enough. Immediately some attacks came and I managed to hold onto the initial ones but was too far back if things really decided to kick off. When they did I realised I was too far back and was one of the last to miss the front group, but my legs thanked me for it. I was one of the best going up the climbs in the chase group which doesn’t count for anything, but I felt that with some racing in my legs I should have stayed with the front group. We ended up taking it easy to the finish, where put in an effort at the front. I wouldn’t have called it a sprint as I never got out the saddle, I just got slowly faster although I forgot where the finish was a lost a couple of even more minor placings, not that it really mattered at this point. So it turned out I couldn’t rob the French of another win on quatorze juillet, but one of the guys from the team managed to get 2<sup>nd</sup> so my poor turnout was largely ignored, luckily.Next Friday evening we have a local crit, very local</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> in fact, it’s in Haguenau. So the team will be very motivated for the win, in fact I’m sure that if we don’t win they’ll be a few words for us all afterwards...good times.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Until next time,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">До Встречи</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Obituary to Poppy (affectionately known as “poppydog”)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So you can know why she was the greatest.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Poppy was first picked up from a rescue home back in early 2000, she was chosen because she was the only one that rolled over when my family went to stroke her. They named her while driving past a field full of poppies. For me she was a surprise as I was away on a school trip to Germany. She was a wired haired terrier and quite small.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">At first all she wanted to do was run away and, as we later learned, eat other animals. It was because of this that all walks were to be taken in the dead of night or in remote locations. Despite this she had a great temperament around people with a great personality that everyone enjoyed. She liked playing tug of war with her toys, which unless were indestructible, she usually chewed up into small pieces. During these tug of war games she would hold on for all she was worth and you could lift her off the ground and swing her round she was so determined. She also enjoyed sitting on the upstairs window ledge and barking at any dog that came past in what was my brothers, then mine and what is now my younger brother’s room.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">One of her less appreciated habits was relieving herself on the same piece of carpet, but her brown eyes stopped you from holding any grudges. She grew up with all four of the Carr children and was there when I decided to start cycling at the age of 16. Many of the riders in and around the west midlands will have seen her there with my dad during my races wandering round. She has done the occasional lap of Darley Moor and Castle Combe (quite a distance).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">On 99.9% of her walks she was taken by my dad who occasionally complained that no one else wanted to do it, but secretly I think he enjoyed the exercise he took with poppy. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In her later life she got a bit slower and she couldn’t jump and catch birds anymore, she also appreciated sleep more especially after an epic walk and it was nice to watch her relax.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She was always there waiting for some fuss, never holding grudges and never passing judgement.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Unfortunately all great things must come to an end and on the 9/7/08 after over a week of being very ill, during intrusive surgery the vets found a huge tumour on her liver and took the decision she would be more comfortable staying asleep.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She leaves behind one very sad family, an assortment of chewed up toys and many fond memories.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rest in Peace Poppydog, you will be sorely missed. </span></p><span style="text-decoration: underline;">
<br /><a href="http://www.ounsdale.co.uk/dogpicture/">Pictures of poppy</a>
<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6ZuwEO3_6nJ8FPY0NzwEh7jne8zhzRzXuYuIW8lqZLO03es06TsW4dms8y8UUMmG_0o3YdSnBeTm5ueRlH2yfPZW9pH2QYDTwjH-AMsOqxpvvAW3h63V_quyI6k5VqYwJRw8KnsXfS8O/s1600-h/poppy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6ZuwEO3_6nJ8FPY0NzwEh7jne8zhzRzXuYuIW8lqZLO03es06TsW4dms8y8UUMmG_0o3YdSnBeTm5ueRlH2yfPZW9pH2QYDTwjH-AMsOqxpvvAW3h63V_quyI6k5VqYwJRw8KnsXfS8O/s320/poppy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223328174628184322" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-57207563315551653912008-07-01T14:34:00.000-07:002008-07-01T14:39:21.001-07:00The Nationals<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiqFOlHOdcWydKTQvpeIATVcjmvAswpi8jiEE5yZc5JGStfiwH6NAvCVEydNdDp3z2SvG4_SqA9q1HQ4gayeSWYyApMj_ImlK_0UZI9QuQIKk4EWtC33w2Q_I3Td8109DvQZDW6UqwTNV/s1600-h/break.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiqFOlHOdcWydKTQvpeIATVcjmvAswpi8jiEE5yZc5JGStfiwH6NAvCVEydNdDp3z2SvG4_SqA9q1HQ4gayeSWYyApMj_ImlK_0UZI9QuQIKk4EWtC33w2Q_I3Td8109DvQZDW6UqwTNV/s320/break.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218162413377739698" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">After catching up with everyone back in the UK I was soon racing again as the days seemed to go quicker. I decided to partake in my local road race league on the Thursdays night to get myself warmed up for the weekend’s national road race. Unfortunately it was quite cold and decidedly wet when we got there but I decided to forge ahead and race. The South Staffs and Shropshire Road Race League (SSSCRRL) is great handicap race series that I’ve done all three seasons I’ve raced for and is great for beginners looking to start up racing, to seasoned pro’s who want a bit of training. On this particular evening there weren’t many of the big boys riding as they were either put off by the weather or up north doing the Otley Criterium. This suited me fine and I ended up a happy winner of the short race, taking full advantage of finishing on my own by pulling off a hardcore victory salute. The win was satisfying and gave me a little bit of confidence for the big challenge of the weekend and what a challenge it would be.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>We drove down on the Friday evening and I stopped with my brother who lives York while my parents stayed in a B&B. On the Saturday I met up with Tom to ride the two circuits the race would incorporate. They were grim, constantly up and down sapping the legs with the wind always taking its toll. I had visions of riders in small groups grovelling round in the hope of finishing after riding round both the circuits and wasn’t looking forward to the next day...especially as my legs hurt and I hadn’t even started racing yet. I watched the women go through for their first lap and then headed back to rest and eat. We couldn’t decide what to eat as no one could be bothered to prepare anything, so we ended up ordering Chinese take away. Not Ideal to prepare for a 200km race the next day but certainly tasty. I ate as much fried rice and soft noodles as I could in the hope that they might at least have a few carbohydrates in them, if they didn’t, I also enjoyed the chopped chilli beef and chicken and the sample of chicken chow mein. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The next day was the race I had come back to do, the national champs, I was looking forward to riding with the well known pro’s but dreading the pain I knew I would have to experience in order to keep up with them for anything like a respectable time. I was planning to try and finish and in order to do this I would have to save as much energy as possible and sit-in to the max not showing my face at the front once. At the start it was strange seeing all the riders I had read so much about over the past few years, David Millar, Mark Cavendish, Roger Hammond and Jeremy Hunt to name a few. I felt pretty small, but caught up with a few riders I hadn’t seen for a while on the ride to Duncombe Park. The weather was initially pretty chilly but by the start wasn’t too bad and I was hoping it would hold out like this so the day wouldn’t be made any worse, if that was at all possible. We were soon off and away racing and I was happily sticking to the plan of sitting in for all I was worth. I watched small groups chip off the front that were instantly brought back by a big attack by one of the well known riders. This happened many times as we moved onto the first of the two circuits and I was well positioned to see all of it being in and around the front (one of the things I’ve learned from racing in France is how to ride in 120+ riders bunches).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The circuits seemed a lot easier sat in the large fast moving bunch and I was starting to get a little excited by being next to the big names. I started to get involved in some of the moves, following the occasionally counter but never initiating my own attack. I started to think that maybe what I was doing wasn’t going to help me in the long run but I couldn’t help myself. Then, after the first lull in pace for a while I followed a soft move by Jonny McEvoy, thinking that I might as well make the effort to go now as I would have to make it later if I didn’t...It was the start of a long day. We ended up getting something of a gap and looked at each other deciding just to take it easy as the two of us weren’t going to ride away any time soon. We kept going for a couple of miles until we got to the sharp climb lined by spectators, here Tom Southam (twice second in this very race) caught us and we started to ride a little quicker. The bunch obviously weren’t interested and we quickly opened up a 50 second gap on them. We caught and dropped Ian Wilkinson who had already been away and had a terribly pained look on his face. After a lap of freedom we were finally caught by a small group that had come across including Matt Stephens (a former winner) and Ben Greenwood (former U23 winner). This added some much needed fire power and the pace instantly lifted to something verging on painful, although we struggled to get organised. Then, a few miles later, Rob Hayles (Olympic medallist) rode past...hmmmm...where’d he come from. A few moments later, Dean Downing (Legend) rode past...oh dear. Following him was Dan Lloyd (second last year)...s*%t. As well as these were Peter Kennaugh (junior winner last year) and Kieran Page (Pezula Pro)... things just got a lot more painful.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>After the initial shock of realising exactly who I was riding with we started to get down to some proper riding...this proved to be hard. The through and off we were doing was steady but fast, a pace you can just about hold on the limit of comfortable. But this was interspersed with lots of short sharp hills that made things even harder. Luckily I could cope with it and started to get time checks...we were pulling away from the bunch. By this point we moved onto the second circuit, this had two long drags that occasionally got steeper and were particularly hard, but we were still pulling away and at one point had just under four minutes on the peloton. It also had a couple of fast downhill sections that me and Tom had joked about the speed Rob Hayles would be powering along them the following day. Well now I was there on Rob Hayles’ wheel and Jesus did he go fast! I was hoping the downhill would give me a few moments of very necessary respite, but no, this wasn’t the case. He must have been powering along at near on 50 mph as I was looking for more gears to push before realising I was already in 53x11. It hurt so much; Dan Lloyd had to push me so I held the wheel. Dean Downing then rode past jovially laughing “He loves it doesn’t he!” How was he laughing?! I was nearly in tears! We continued to tap through and off round this circuit of which we were meant to do 4 laps, but things were starting to get painful. I was struggling to do my turns up the hills and going 100% at times to close small gaps, we were getting towards the 100 mile mark, the longest race distance I’ve done, I’d been away for nearly 75 miles and the turd was about to hit the fan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The first attacks started on the flat section just before the smaller drag on the 3<sup>rd</sup> of 4 laps, the pace was furious as I watched the front riders making it so much harder. I was holding it for a while but about 2 metres off the wheel before finally getting back. Then it went again, things got tough, a gap was left somewhere and suddenly four of us had been gapped. I knew it was going to happen sometime or other, but it’s always disappointing when it does. Three of us carried on riding a little bit but we quickly lost time and were eventually caught by the bunch being led by David Millar. I rode in here for a little bit, but I was in serious trouble. As soon as we got to the main long drag I went out the back of the front peloton, crawled my way through the feed zone probably looking like a commuter riding up Alpe d’huez, was caught by the second peloton, immediately went out the back of this group and settled riding with a few people happy to just to get to the HQ. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>By this point it had started to rain and any thoughts I had of attempting to finish were literally washed away. I met my parents driving the opposite direction, got in, drove back to the HQ, showered and waited for some results. It turned out that 5 of the break had managed to stay away, with Rob Hayles taking the win. The rest of the original break had popped the next time round and apparently gone backwards in a not to dissimilar way to me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the finish I was pleased that I had got in the Dominating break of the day, but even though I knew I had given it 100% and couldn’t have done much, if any, more, I still felt a pang of disappointment when I heard some of the break had stayed away for the win. But there aren’t many riders that can say that they’ve held a three and a half minute gap over a peloton including David Millar, Roger Hammond, Mark Cavendish, Jeremy Hunt and Ian Stannard amongst others. I can be pleased to look back on that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hyvästi</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgaryreQe-d9M0WODLWmQpBXBir258ZOF61SaoJwQWAVTQjLnSBa548ZzOwmzf_ko3NIqJOuI7c_V0z7269gqgzXxIYb5pgrxlPkGI6ELHLhnJArfqK9_NaTOdRmoqDn7tAcBmPh6ot81/s1600-h/break2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgaryreQe-d9M0WODLWmQpBXBir258ZOF61SaoJwQWAVTQjLnSBa548ZzOwmzf_ko3NIqJOuI7c_V0z7269gqgzXxIYb5pgrxlPkGI6ELHLhnJArfqK9_NaTOdRmoqDn7tAcBmPh6ot81/s320/break2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218163203491379362" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-47999196784854548592008-06-24T14:57:00.000-07:002008-06-24T15:03:08.682-07:00Back in Blighty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_6Ctj-8_EX565IyRtzlJc9LZEYz1y7Zy6zqkOfroT0KqDWuYW8VUujXXwewyBNCCioplwJwYyl0sOJZJ-Fhu4fX_l_96SfwWxDRmXeD3YJPZ5u-YNG1ZOlzolSFPt1gmVtl-77uyWlG7/s1600-h/DSCF0165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_6Ctj-8_EX565IyRtzlJc9LZEYz1y7Zy6zqkOfroT0KqDWuYW8VUujXXwewyBNCCioplwJwYyl0sOJZJ-Fhu4fX_l_96SfwWxDRmXeD3YJPZ5u-YNG1ZOlzolSFPt1gmVtl-77uyWlG7/s320/DSCF0165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215571919300451314" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m writing this to you from the sunny West Midlands back in Blighty. After four and a half months of living and racing in France I’ve returned for a break... well I say break, I’ve come back to race the National Road Race Championships which is 204km with a field of many pro’s. To me, 204km seems a little excessive for a field made up of many Espoirs; 160km would suffice even for the seniors. I’m trying to imagine getting to 100 miles and, depending on how fast I’m going, still have at least another hour to go. Oh well, at least there’s a race to do. Back in France leading up to coming back me and Tom were trying to ration the food so that we ate just enough to leave as little as possible before we came over. It involved much planning on the meal front especially meats which could go mouldy and potentially have fatal results. Luckily, using our combined wits (mostly mine) we were able to pull it off, be it with rather a small breakfast on the day of leaving.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Even though we were planning to leave, we still had a race to do on the Saturday. It was a semi-local crit and we were finally sending a strong squad to a smaller race for the first time in a while. There were six of us from the team and we were by far and away the strongest outfit there so I was looking forward to ruling the race. The course was a little under a kilometre and we were going to be doing an hour and fourty five minutes worth of racing with 10 laps after that, a bit of a merry-go-round only with panting lycra clad men rather than lavishly painted plastic horses. The start was fast and I was at the back as my own team put in the effort to initiate the initial moves. After a few laps I managed to move up though and start to think about getting involved. At about this point a spoke popped in my front wheel and I was at the start getting a roué avant. The laps were so short I had to take two laps out, well I think I had to, if I didn’t then I took two anyway. Anyway I got back into the race without much fuss and moved my way back up to the front. By this time we had a guy up the road on his own and the rest of us were sitting on any attacks that went. We did this for many a lap until the time eventually started to come down, at this point we got the word we were to attack to try and get across. After a particularly hard few laps followed by a prime lap I put in an effort and quickly got a gap which I held for a few laps off the front. Unfortunately the circuit was particularly bumpy and I struggled to get any kind of rhythm going and so after my few laps of freedom I was reeled in. The team put some counter attacks in and eventually there were six away with three of us, domination...or it should have been. Being back in the bunch the three of us shut down the race jumping anything that moved and eventually just about everyone gave up and we came into the bunch sprint finishing in about 8<sup>th</sup> position and about 14<sup>th</sup> overall. I rolled round on my recovery lap and got to the finish to see the DS having a go at one of the riders, it wasn’t good news. Apparently the break had split in two with only one of our guys up front, the resident none sprinter Mathieu. He had duly finished 2<sup>nd</sup> in a race that we should have owned easily, but sometimes that’s how it goes, it was a frosty drive back anyway. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next day we weren’t expecting to race but at 8.30 we got the call that we had a race to do. There were a few problems with this, firstly the race the day before had been a nocturne which had finished at 10 in the evening and we eventually got back at 1 in the morning, also it was the day before we were leaving to go back and certain things needed packing, also due to our rationing of food we didn’t have much food for breakfast and getting ready. So, after a short discussion, we decided it wouldn’t be practical to race. At this point in the week the weather had reached its highest temperature so far, with Strasbourg getting to 34 degrees. Consequently we didn’t wear much during the day and I took three showers in the space of twelve hours. With the excitement of going home, and early start and the excessive heat we both struggled to get to sleep that night. I just lay on my bed sweating, occasionally getting up to watch the lightening from the passing storm. With about 20 minutes worth of dozing we got up at 3.30 to begin our journey home. The drive and flight went swimmingly except for the plane being hijacked by terrorists and taking a detour to Moscow. Once we got back to England I said goodbye to Tom who I would be seeing in a week’s time and began my train journey home. This involved 2 changes and with a big bike box and large suitcase, I was lucky it wasn’t busy; also I had a painful arm by the end of it. But after a few hundred miles and a large bout of tiredness I returned home to be greeted by a large meal made by my gran, yummy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next weekend the Champs, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, for now I’ll just enjoy being able to completely understand the conversation and the tele.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until the next time,</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Laters.</p>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-68429331211244146802008-06-18T13:59:00.001-07:002008-06-18T15:22:21.466-07:00Cathederals anyone?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaDn_1KSIuHZp25YDbHDr0nFqvRllM2PgqNUeILRwKL-kJvO51-WGCTmjRgunEgqgKmdc9-HmKauhGVljerAdftn0ETF4DDTYSsL9hv3YUmSB0xot8szP-g3yr0IjDxtgnhKQLkhcVHTd/s1600-h/DSCF0156.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaDn_1KSIuHZp25YDbHDr0nFqvRllM2PgqNUeILRwKL-kJvO51-WGCTmjRgunEgqgKmdc9-HmKauhGVljerAdftn0ETF4DDTYSsL9hv3YUmSB0xot8szP-g3yr0IjDxtgnhKQLkhcVHTd/s320/DSCF0156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213330294184778498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIsKBGxcy7poYR9flYv85r4OKeE44C2_q5R3AOv1tOr-jFnF5PmUs7Zy4Rztj-3UmogyVaKQNDpTFr1oM5Q-V92FinRPA3kpUwbLFY6W-Byua6ztKGgvnlIAyM7ah_NThNVCMol6dzsZU/s1600-h/DSCF0159.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIsKBGxcy7poYR9flYv85r4OKeE44C2_q5R3AOv1tOr-jFnF5PmUs7Zy4Rztj-3UmogyVaKQNDpTFr1oM5Q-V92FinRPA3kpUwbLFY6W-Byua6ztKGgvnlIAyM7ah_NThNVCMol6dzsZU/s320/DSCF0159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213329914241994194" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">Not much happened in the week last week as we took it easy leading up to another stage race the Tour d’Eure et Loir. But I thought I’d let you know about a game me and Tom play when we go shopping. When we get to the checkout we each have to guess an exact price for the shopping without adding up or anything, closest wins. It’s pretty tense for a few moments as the till lady scans through the last items and we wait nervously for the final total. Sometimes we’re miles out but other times pretty close. I’ve been the closest so far guessing just two cents from the actual price, what an achievement. Anyway, next time there’s two of you doing the shopping why not give it a try. If you’re on your own I wouldn’t as you will just luck weird, anyway on with talking about cycling.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Our journey begins on the noon of the Thursday, as eight of us gathered (six riders, one Director Sportif and one Mechanic) to begin our journey to the department of L’Eure et Loir. Here we were to partake in a three day stage race taking in all the best bits of the department in our Federal Espoirs only race. The journey was long (6 hours) and treacherous (I was awoken by a speed bump) but finally we made it to our loggings for the weekend. After a quick ride around and a hearty meal of pasta with an indistinguishable meat (it tasted something like chicken) we settled ourselves down to look forward to the next day’s upcoming stage. The time soon came for the mornings debrief, but this morning I was determined that my briefs were staying on (If you haven’t seen Garth Marenghis Dark Place, I recommend you do, hilarious). We were told the course was flat with a few little bumps but nothing major to worry about, make sure we were in every move etc etc, the usual spiel. The race was a pretty big occasion and started in what looked like the very nice city of Chartres. I didn’t get to see much of it though and we were soon lining up at the start and rolling out for the neutralised section. The date was Friday 13<sup>th</sup> and I got my small dose of bad luck at about now. I was casually taking a sip from my bottle while the people in front suddenly slowed, I didn’t have time to put my bottle away and use my more powerful front brake so I just had to ride into the back of them. How I didn’t come off is a small miracle but I smacked my spokes into the back of some guys’ bike and slightly buckled the wheel.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The stage was 158km as well as the 9km of neutralised and fast. In fact we did about 46km in the first hour and I didn’t even notice it. I moved up to the front when it started to line out and got in the first break of the day. Unfortunately the roads where too fast for it to stay away and after about 10km we were reeled in. I moved up again after some sitting in and the roads started to go up sharply, then down, then up again. It certainly wasn’t flat. Coming into possibly the hardest hill I followed an attack by the favourite, Fabien Taillefer and he wasn’t messing about. We quickly caught a small group that was up the road but it had hurt...then we hit the hill. The pace exploded and I quickly regretted chasing the move, so much so that I decided to go to the back and watch the break of the day ride away...Oh well. Luckily we had two riders in it so we had a nice easy ride to the finish. End of stage one, eat, sleep, recover.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The second day started early as it was to contain two stages, a 90km road stage with a 16.7km time trial. This time the road stage was flat...pan flat. So flat in fact that everyone decided that they would be able to get away and ride everyone off their wheel. Because of this we didn’t go 10 seconds without an attack being made and that is no exaggeration. In fact, I think there was a small let up in pace for 20 seconds and then everyone looked at each other and started attacking again. I followed a few moves but never made one of my own, nothing was sticking, and so bunch sprint it was. This was the first time I was involved in a mass bunch sprint for the win and boy was it hairy. I decided to try and place myself up there and see what I could do but I was pretty hopeless. I always watched the races on Tele where Fassa Bortolo (now Milram) would get on the front and line it out and wondered why riders didn’t move up, surely they were strong enough...but now I know why. CC Nogent put their “train” on the front and trying to move up suddenly became very hard. Moving out into the headwind at 50kmph hurt the legs somewhat so I did it as sparingly as possibly, alas it wasn’t to be. I gave up with 500 metres to go with enough time to watch the winner give his victory salute from 40<sup>th</sup> place; Tom managed a great 11<sup>th</sup> with his bunch sprinting skills.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Then came the time trial, something I had been looking forward to. The team had leant me a TT bike (I say TT, it was a 10 year old road frame with TT bars) and a disk wheel to use and I was hoping to put in a good effort. What happened though wasn’t how I had foreseen it; in fact the only way to show what happened best is by using a time line:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>(My start time: 16:40)<br />14:10: arrived at the start, pinned on numbers, relaxed.<br />15:35: changed into kit and went to ride my bike to test everything was in order, which it was.<br />15:45: relaxed for a little longer.<br />15:55: put my skinsuit and other additional extras I use for time trialling<br />16:00: waited for my turn on the turbo to warm up.<br />16:10: got on the turbo to warm up<br />16:30: got off the turbo for the mechanic to put the wheel in. (this is when things started to go wrong)<br />16:31: mechanic notices that my cable outer at the rear derailleur is slightly frayed and declares that it won’t work (even though I’ve just been using it for 20 minutes)<br />16:32: mechanic starts to panic but finds a new cable outer.<br />16:34: mechanic proceeds to take the cable out of the outer and tries to replace it only to find the end of the cable is frayed and he cannot thread the cable.<br />16:36: mechanic goes to find a new cable but then realises it will take too long to change it.<br />16:37: mechanic takes the disk wheel out of the TT bike and hastily puts it into my road bike...Great.<br />16:37.30: I leave to get to the start.<br />16:38.45: I arrive at the start ramp much to the distress of all the officials who shout at me to get ready immediately.<br />16:39.00: I get on the ramp just as my minute man is leaving.<br />16:40.00: c’est partie</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>But this wasn’t it, oh no, as soon as I went down the ramp the following car started using it’s horn to try and encourage me. Usually I wouldn’t mind such capers, but unfortunately I was already so wound up after my bike fiasco I just couldn’t take it. I started to shout as loud as I could even though I knew they couldn’t hear me, I looked around a couple of times to try and make them stop. In the end I turned right around flicked them the V’s and this shut them up, finally. Then my back wheel started to make a screeching noise, like it was rubbing against the frame. I looked down trying to find the route of the problem and even took the quick release off my brake to see if that helped. It got louder and louder and I was certain the tubular was about to explode. It didn’t and I soldiered on, but by this time the damage was done, I couldn’t even remember how slow I’d gone I was too busy concentrating on other things apart from riding. It was only when we received the results when I found this out, I was disappointed to say the least, but by the next morning I was over it. I’m not one to dwell.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The last stage was 153km with 7km of neutralised and once again fast. I sat in for the first 100km until it started to go up and down where I moved towards the front. Bizarrely we were stopped by a train at one point and I was surprised by how many people needed to stop to relieve themselves including me. Coming into the first of a series of sharp hills I followed a hard move by Fabien Taillefer and Pierre Luc-Perichon (If you don’t know these names now, give it a couple of years and I’m sure you will) and when I say hard I mean hard. Only 15 riders were able to follow him including all the favourites and me and Tom. I put in one of those efforts you only make once in a race to stay with them and at one point I was sure I was losing some vision. Fortunately I stayed with them, unfortunately, because it was all the favourites no one wanted to ride... I simply couldn’t... and we were caught after about 15km of being away. We rode to the finish 1 minute 40 behind the break; Taillefer lost the overall possibly due to the stopping by the train as the break weren’t halted.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>There we have it, another stage race finish. I was bitterly disappointed by my time trial, it wrecked my race, but happy I was able to go with it when it really got tough on the last stage. Next week, two smaller races and then I am flying back to Blighty to prepare for the National Chumps... I mean Champs.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Until next time,</p> Do zobaczenia<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysQYpjW3i5dz-mXvNdTjUSVnJs9S-tZEgXIJwS7FW0SI5paYv69Lao5NDe_PYbVHv-J9k2-SBbp9wr9nCKU-5ytAltEw2DsLYLaU2IHvhhW94HC1B649vMuawEa551t_guXLcE20mduZc/s1600-h/DSCF0160.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysQYpjW3i5dz-mXvNdTjUSVnJs9S-tZEgXIJwS7FW0SI5paYv69Lao5NDe_PYbVHv-J9k2-SBbp9wr9nCKU-5ytAltEw2DsLYLaU2IHvhhW94HC1B649vMuawEa551t_guXLcE20mduZc/s320/DSCF0160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213329441327398226" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-86790429797975212392008-06-10T12:02:00.000-07:002008-06-11T00:55:20.576-07:00Champions de Alsace, mais pas moi.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJSNiw2L7lkzky2WM2ubdQa6jHWHNwIhukPVzSn29N3wBwBn2PlqOEmJSoCSHRltV7P2zlqH_eVSiPU0I2VsDf9Is2hoRQnApEc217D7E3UDv1ATFs9SqTJ6rpQpIT6rMwci0-PVKKel2/s1600-h/thomas.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJSNiw2L7lkzky2WM2ubdQa6jHWHNwIhukPVzSn29N3wBwBn2PlqOEmJSoCSHRltV7P2zlqH_eVSiPU0I2VsDf9Is2hoRQnApEc217D7E3UDv1ATFs9SqTJ6rpQpIT6rMwci0-PVKKel2/s320/thomas.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210333992958338402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmqODjqduat7cc21Y3MtpFGJ6PVzdmMB3dxgWBcC6ZVzvOurpnvI8AYLpepbE3JkyLBd6faOA6jnomgaGHT2qZPZx0vOU1Ib2WPPCnLN8nJ9H88bbs-IX_ySEFUuLLu_BTkJ-Ho_he5Wt/s1600-h/DSCF0155.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmqODjqduat7cc21Y3MtpFGJ6PVzdmMB3dxgWBcC6ZVzvOurpnvI8AYLpepbE3JkyLBd6faOA6jnomgaGHT2qZPZx0vOU1Ib2WPPCnLN8nJ9H88bbs-IX_ySEFUuLLu_BTkJ-Ho_he5Wt/s320/DSCF0155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210333107097021282" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">After last Sunday’s disappointment of a race I decided I needed something to look forward to. So I went down the local music shop and purchased a nice blue acoustic guitar for the meagre sum of 119€. So for the past week I’ve happily been strumming away using my limited talent on the instrument, playing for pleasure rather than to actually sound good... I was better on the clarinet (grade 5 thank you very much). Tom is trying to learn as well, so far I’ve taught him the opening 4 chords to Oasis’ Wonderwall and he’s worked out the first few (and most important) notes to Layla by Eric Clapton. But let’s bear in mind the people playing the actual songs have been playing for a long long time. Tom on the other hand has been playing for just under a week, so you can imagine the difference in playing ability, never mind, (a lot of) practise makes perfect. The week was once again sunny and we got a couple of good long rides in, one being with half the team on the Wednesday. On this ride we went up a nice big hill about half way through and the resident climber in the team, Mathieu, decided to stretch his legs. Now usually I am quite sceptical about people who label themselves as climbers, I mean, in England the races are never hilly enough to make a difference and it’s always the strong riders that ride away at the finish. These are the same riders that win the time trials and more often than not, the sprints, basically, better riders. Mathieu on the other hand, is a climber. You measure how much form you have by how much he drops you on a climb; if you can hold him for 25 metres you are going very well. On this particular hill I was going quite well as I held his wheel for the first 200 metres.... then he got out of the saddle (and started breathing). I pretty much went 100% just to see him ride away from me when it got steep, luckily it flattened out a little and I big ringed it back up to him (after he’d eased off). He’s a very strong rider and should have easily won a race this year by now, but bad tactics and his unwillingness to sprint have meant otherwise.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The weekend consisted of two races for us, one being a nocturne crit on the Friday evening and the other a race in Germany because all the French regional championships were taking place in which foreigners are not allowed to compete, darn. The Friday night crit turned out to be a “Criterium Nationale”, in other words an Elite National level criterium and the riders there were pretty crème de la crème. They included Steve (a proper French name) Chainel, local pro for Auber 93 and recent winner of the Circuit de Lorraine, Mathieu Simon, UV Aube legend and Gwenal Rouzet, winner of several of my races. I had my work cut out to say the least. The weather wasn’t particularly favourable with constant drizzle and cool air being in the heart of the Vosges Mountains and the race ended up being shortened due to the deteriorating conditions. Anyway, enough of the build up, We got under way nice and fast as you would imagine and it took me a while to move up to the front as I started right at the back. Once this was achieved I wasn’t sure where to go; I followed a few moves and even made one when I thought it was hard but nothing too serious, when would the race deciding move be made?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>I found out soon enough although I struggle to remember now. Somehow Steve Chainel and another UV Aube strong guy had slipped off the front, who let that happen? Fools! What I do remember is it being particularly hard just before this point as you don’t usually let the pro in the race slip away without a reason and because of this my legs hurt as I watched them riding away. But I couldn’t just watch them, hell no, I wasn’t going to sit there watching the race winning move ride away so I attacked coming into a corner. When I looked round I had a gap, Ha! Now I’m the one riding away, suckers! In my excitement though my legs began to hurt, I had closed the gap a little, but it was 2 versus 1 and I wasn’t winning. When I reached the slight incline in the circuit through the finish the bunch put in a quick acceleration to counter my move and I was swinging. The next couple of laps were very painful, I don’t like to remember them but they involved much lactic acid, sprinting out of corners and gritting of teeth. I was close to going out the back, but thankfully didn’t, instead I recovered and waited for the next move. A few attacks went and were chased down, then Tom made a strong one that stretched the field but everyone jumped on so he couldn’t get a gap. It was then I saw my opportunity, I went full gas down the right hand side of the road and kept the effort going for another 200 metres before I looked round to see Simon and another guy on my wheel with a gap to the peloton. We quickly got our act together and began to work at a pretty steady pace, there were primes every ten laps for each group but for the first one I wasn’t sure what was going on and for the second I didn’t know when to open up the sprint so lost out on both. But we kept working, although behind they were working as well and coming into the final few laps I was starting to worry that we’d be caught. In fact afterwards I found out the group behind were only 10 seconds down at one point but thankfully we nailed it to the finish where Simon just edged me in the sprint. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Afterwards I found out Toms group had also had primes both of which he had won, my group of three had the same amount of primes on the line. This meant Tom ended up winning 100€ and I thought I had won nothing despite being ahead all race. Luckily the primes were for the first three so, to my surprise, I won 40€ although it was still a bit of a slap in the face but I was happy with how the race went. (I finished 5<sup>th</sup> by the way got sidetracked thinking about those primes)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday was our race in Germany and the conditions couldn’t have been any more different. The sun was shining and the roads were too hot to stand on while we were getting changed. My high school German was faultless signing on, asking where the toilet was and buying a couple of cokes, I surprised even myself. The set-up was superb, they had a food and drinks tent with a crack team of workers cooking steak and chips amongst several other things for the hungry spectators. Just next to this tent were several benches for enjoying said refreshments, all of this overlooking the main climb of the race to watch the riders suffer. The roads were completely closed to all cars, which although isn’t uncommon in France, is still something to be admired. Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said about the race, it was awful. It was completely negative, a bit like a 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup> cat race in England (I have nothing against 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup> cats everyone has to start (and finish) somewhere), with any attacks being quickly jumped on and then everyone sitting up. I got so fed up that I missed it when a move was actually allowed to get away, although I spent most of the race thinking it would come back like it usually does in a 3<sup>rd</sup> and 4<sup>th</sup> cat race. Unfortunately all the riders were a little stronger than this and the break stayed away. I even missed the second move that tried to get across to them, it was horrendous. The group I ended up in was coming in for 20<sup>th</sup>, but it felt like we were sprinting it out for 50<sup>th</sup> the way the guys were racing. I ended up 23<sup>rd</sup> and highly disappointed with how the race had gone. The rider who ended up winning was a pro for Wiesenhof last year, if only I’d known, I would have followed him. Sometimes though, that’s how it goes, now I must recover regroup and get ready for next weekend. Thankfully we drove back nice and quick to watch our team mates finish first and second in the Alsace champs, the first win for the team and a great win at that. Hopefully now the floodgates will open and the wins will begin to pour in.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The upcoming weekend should be exciting with another Elite Nationale stage race, but this time only for Espoirs. The Tour d’Eure et Loire is run off over 3 days and 4 stages including a time trial, It should be nice to see how I can do in the big races when I actually have some legs to get round...or not. Who knows? I’m hoping it goes well, aren’t we all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time, <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span></p> Hejdå<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4L2aJA_3DW4VKoOhdUiE6_SFBTWe_3AEK2d-Mjrva6OEeJ4AiObPkzvCwbNjwWV_onXPU3egjE7Ox1FW3QksLt8UwEqIyebTzcc5_uUcPhWfYd9FHIuaocFad2MuS8FIlA4xZJTifwfm/s1600-h/DSCF0153.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4L2aJA_3DW4VKoOhdUiE6_SFBTWe_3AEK2d-Mjrva6OEeJ4AiObPkzvCwbNjwWV_onXPU3egjE7Ox1FW3QksLt8UwEqIyebTzcc5_uUcPhWfYd9FHIuaocFad2MuS8FIlA4xZJTifwfm/s320/DSCF0153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210334327454204434" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-60033023753403302352008-06-04T08:41:00.000-07:002008-06-04T08:48:11.086-07:00Good legs, nowhere to go.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNgvuulM11ELUi-sX8RGMCU8-YHc1BDN_kQ7R2OLW2zgnHqGZMDtYPMYPJ6UNrrjayEsHWmsTLvpkRIqHuG4_53EI_rFE-g1f4uowYT7_D1NfdUdKoFIpXB6bvMHkesJrlMJ6aNxH264Q/s1600-h/saaeguemines_363_001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNgvuulM11ELUi-sX8RGMCU8-YHc1BDN_kQ7R2OLW2zgnHqGZMDtYPMYPJ6UNrrjayEsHWmsTLvpkRIqHuG4_53EI_rFE-g1f4uowYT7_D1NfdUdKoFIpXB6bvMHkesJrlMJ6aNxH264Q/s320/saaeguemines_363_001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208052654688767042" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS23B3aWb0rO-3AZVQRR0VTBwBtHCTd7DoupqKkHmxRPzO-7tsiNRsxdjdMPn_ZRghfWYSbnJwc3GiEqku3KeD7-3p6cx6pAxhe76WuCYqbgtytHiSEXGDBz9wYvNityPlUYXqs4BzPMLf/s1600-h/reichstett.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS23B3aWb0rO-3AZVQRR0VTBwBtHCTd7DoupqKkHmxRPzO-7tsiNRsxdjdMPn_ZRghfWYSbnJwc3GiEqku3KeD7-3p6cx6pAxhe76WuCYqbgtytHiSEXGDBz9wYvNityPlUYXqs4BzPMLf/s320/reichstett.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208052766357916754" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">The temperature finally hit the big 30 (that’s degrees, not Fahrenheit or Kelvin) and in most ways it was much appreciated. It’s nice to ride around in the sun, very enjoyable indeed, much better than riding around in the snow. The problem is living in such temperatures. As we are situated in a roof space apartment, the sun shines in all day heating the place up like an oven with me and Tom being a couple of turkeys in <span style=""> </span>for a roast, all be it skinny ones with not much meat (well I know I’m built like a train but Toms more like a stick). This means we spend most of time our walking around wearing as little clothing as possible and breaking a sweat under the lightest of exercise, quite an image I know but don’t get too overwhelmed. It also makes sleeping rather difficult, sheets definitely aren’t necessary, a fan would be more appropriate. You wake up at some ungodly hour with your pillow and sheets soaked, peel yourself off, roll over and try to get to sleep again. This is one of the few downsides to the weather being good and if it stays like this, I’m willing to put up with it. In other news my resting heart rate finally dropped below 40 to 38 for the first time ever, be it after much deep breathing and only for a couple of seconds. But it was the first time I’ve ever seen my heart rate in the thirties so I considered it quite an achievement.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The legs felt great riding this week and I was really looking forward to the racing knowing I had something there. Some form usually comes after about 3 weeks of a stage race for me and it had been 3 weeks since the Essor Breton. The first was a local crit of about 80km run off as a points race, the second a short rolling road race at 120km. Me and Tom were determined to do well in at least one of these races as we both felt ok and so coming into the weekend we were both “mega psyched”. On the Saturday the crit was just under and hours ride away and because of this, we decided to ride there... On the way we passed a temperature gauge that told us it was 30 degrees, 20 minutes later we passed another that told us it was 22 degrees. The temperature had dropped 8 degrees and it was getting windier, in the distance we could see a dirty great cloud that was obviously spilling out rain in the direction we were going. I started to see flashes of lightening in the distance and it began to get darker. Perfect. It hadn’t started raining when we arrived; it only started doing that 10 minutes before the depart and boy did it rain...and thunder....and lightening, not necessarily in that order. They delayed the start by 10 minutes and the rain started to relent, my shiny white socks were still ruined after 7 seconds of riding though.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>We started fast; Tom decided to attack from the gun and stayed away for a few laps. I countered a few times when it came back together but not much happened. The race had sprints every 10 laps with points for the first 4, Tom managed to get up there for the first one so I decided rather than riding around finishing nowhere in the sprints I’d help Tom try and win it. This involved chasing down many an attack and making it tough coming into the sprint so no one tried to get away. Luckily I had the legs to do this and Tom managed to get up there in most of the sprints. Unfortunately there was a particularly strong German that insisted on ruining it for us. The rain eased off and the race dried out making the course nice and fast, but with three quarters of the race down I was starting to get tired from all this chasing and working. Tom managed to get up there in the final sprint and ended up second overall which was a relatively satisfying result for all involved, although we all wanted the win.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Sunday was my target though, I had great legs on the Saturday and was hoping I could carry it through and pull off my own good result, I knew it was possible. I wrote down the GPM points on my hand and remembered where they all were in relation to the finish as it was an “en ligne” race rather than laps. I studied the start sheet meticulously, scouring the past weeks results and comparing names, noting anyone I thought might be dangerous. I tried to prepare myself as well as possible to give myself every chance. Once the race had started I could feel my legs from the day before, but this was to be expected. They were still good legs and coming into the first and hardest climb of the day I was well positioned at the front of the bunch with a small break just up the road. I followed a hard attack, but not all out, I could see this hill was going to go on for at least another kilometre so I saved a little. It helped as I caught a few people who had killed themselves to go with the move, a few of the better climbers were riding away though and going over the top I was towards the back of the front group. A few people sprinted past me over the top and I wanted to follow, but that was a damn hard hill I had just come up and I didn’t want to sprint just yet. If only I had, a small group formed just ahead (and I mean literally 50 metres) after the climb and that was it, race over.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Obviously I didn’t know this at the time as for a long long while it looked like it might come back, as is the way in bike racing. But also as is the way in bike racing, it stayed away, much to my annoyance and disappointment. At first I made many attempts to try and get across sometimes with others, sometimes on my own, but was continuously chased by teams with riders in the break. After a while I decided it was pretty fruitless and sat in which is about when the Kazakh “Olympic (junior) academy” started chasing as they had failed to put a rider in the front group. Unfortunately they weren’t particularly strong and although they held the gap at just under a minute they couldn’t pull it back and eventually many of them blew. My group split up a little towards the end as the last third of the race was spent trying to form a group that might jump across in the closing stage. Unfortunately this was everyone’s idea and every time I went people were determined to follow. After a while a small group formed ahead of us and we were getting towards the end of the race, although I had no idea how close we were. Then suddenly we turned right and there was a 300metres to go sign. Were the hell did that come from? Not even a 1km to go flamme rouge, let alone a 10km to go sign. Our group carried out its hasty sprint for the minor placings, but at this point I wasn’t particularly fussed where I finished, I ended up 29<sup>th</sup>. Tom had managed to get in the break and finished a good 5<sup>th</sup>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I felt pretty annoyed with myself after the finish, but probably because I expected a lot out of the race and didn’t get it. It’s even more frustrating knowing you could have done better than having done your best and still been used to wipe the floor. Oh well, I’ll know better than to expect a result next time and take the race as it comes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until the next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Näkemiin</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X_kMtnBEVi3698tSc9cVIRDYJcP69zmkow_aUBx_sDW9drutaoA9eV4M3dpcjFEYUWJLdZl9Cx518xULzIZ_epjUjJ0-hAO1bEDxl52B3qD9PQgrZIy02ahRjXCddILqms59ImldXDV5/s1600-h/saaeguemines_366.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6X_kMtnBEVi3698tSc9cVIRDYJcP69zmkow_aUBx_sDW9drutaoA9eV4M3dpcjFEYUWJLdZl9Cx518xULzIZ_epjUjJ0-hAO1bEDxl52B3qD9PQgrZIy02ahRjXCddILqms59ImldXDV5/s320/saaeguemines_366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208052890911968354" border="0" /></a></p>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-69595023519245535392008-05-27T10:25:00.000-07:002008-05-27T10:33:04.428-07:00Some form.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV37gCI6PpxLy3CbJXYjm58dsLjIyZPte0Vzmlgjeu-DssEc3avctYfm2FbDmAlc8Szic0B4eSoq9CXN6r9j-x5nJBOy3-Uhn3IqSZ7ARS28aOymlfPCeVrhX7cOX_5LiolzK9fFNimHzw/s1600-h/Rouzet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV37gCI6PpxLy3CbJXYjm58dsLjIyZPte0Vzmlgjeu-DssEc3avctYfm2FbDmAlc8Szic0B4eSoq9CXN6r9j-x5nJBOy3-Uhn3IqSZ7ARS28aOymlfPCeVrhX7cOX_5LiolzK9fFNimHzw/s320/Rouzet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205110312576670850" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">27<sup>o</sup>C 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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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 <span style=""> </span>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. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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 5<sup>th</sup> 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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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 7<sup>th</sup> 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 2<sup>nd</sup> 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 3<sup>rd</sup> shot past with 50 metres to go I knew I was finished. I finished 9<sup>th</sup> 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).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Our team finished 3<sup>rd</sup>, 6th and 9<sup>th</sup> 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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Until next time,</p><pre><span><span style="font-size:+1;">Slán<br /><br />PS. More photos to come.<br /></span></span></pre>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-36774896204436677112008-05-21T11:51:00.000-07:002008-05-21T11:55:57.774-07:00False hope<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6fF0LwfPuOw-BwRdloami6W7I7YEMjvQrfPY_AWeFLRd2JfADmKSV3nKgVVRbP7wnqrFuUkUirGE1wa_O_paq0tWBGyXgvOlscIWVoxK1dNI4FTdEtPHeMdDs38F9AhM6uhQrD-Nrjpk/s1600-h/profile.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6fF0LwfPuOw-BwRdloami6W7I7YEMjvQrfPY_AWeFLRd2JfADmKSV3nKgVVRbP7wnqrFuUkUirGE1wa_O_paq0tWBGyXgvOlscIWVoxK1dNI4FTdEtPHeMdDs38F9AhM6uhQrD-Nrjpk/s320/profile.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202906316485804514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4sFNJ95RHs3ZQu9FTZbHoaCvlM4qFep1qluJ8bXtdC8BNKzwYFf8b0vhtzsqbONB2Y-hnXQKgoxT814BcVThja2L0RfyqeGLxY4C5ZdZMW50qkgk2rXsz9l6-lbaDcTZu3zveHIeiiUM/s1600-h/Boucles+de+la+marne.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4sFNJ95RHs3ZQu9FTZbHoaCvlM4qFep1qluJ8bXtdC8BNKzwYFf8b0vhtzsqbONB2Y-hnXQKgoxT814BcVThja2L0RfyqeGLxY4C5ZdZMW50qkgk2rXsz9l6-lbaDcTZu3zveHIeiiUM/s320/Boucles+de+la+marne.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202906183341818322" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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.<span style=""> </span>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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>After our little group played out the end of race cat and mouse for the very minor placings, I sprinted in for 53<sup>rd</sup>. 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). <span style=""> </span>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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The moral needs a boost before the form can come and maybe...hopefully... it can have one this weekend. Tu sais jamais. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Until next time</p> Hwyl fawrAlastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-56424149462578276512008-05-11T10:23:00.000-07:002008-05-11T11:02:42.783-07:00Bretagne<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7wWTCPNfThNHsVbt9eG_FmyShBzR51h6THghuvOEDlmQBZAZOsBuYamheQtTMdRNloYVW7dVwVZdppXTRSNO_xP857wkCAVB8el02VwLI3cD5d28FWuYcbHTP8XAm3HjKaBybmK6m45p/s1600-h/essor+mathieu.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7wWTCPNfThNHsVbt9eG_FmyShBzR51h6THghuvOEDlmQBZAZOsBuYamheQtTMdRNloYVW7dVwVZdppXTRSNO_xP857wkCAVB8el02VwLI3cD5d28FWuYcbHTP8XAm3HjKaBybmK6m45p/s320/essor+mathieu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199175467374330290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfU3QZlvM8Os_tkPnPd4pWLF9WgTmpu4BpbAPT7RZkhaIdV3KI9KYAoF33Bojqa4KNITZsoFUgG2WXO54IWWe7WXY2pHvvNcFJqwyI9Mt8PxGLkbimDzf0X8N3rzMxy8TqPEq61khFe5LJ/s1600-h/essor+prologue.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfU3QZlvM8Os_tkPnPd4pWLF9WgTmpu4BpbAPT7RZkhaIdV3KI9KYAoF33Bojqa4KNITZsoFUgG2WXO54IWWe7WXY2pHvvNcFJqwyI9Mt8PxGLkbimDzf0X8N3rzMxy8TqPEq61khFe5LJ/s320/essor+prologue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199175372885049762" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">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 44<sup>th</sup> out of 120 starters, a guy from our team put in a great gritty ride to finish 2<sup>nd</sup> but was disappointed to miss out on the win.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">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:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stage 1: Prologue (4.7km) Le Pertre – Le Pertre</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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 9<sup>th</sup> 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 7<sup>th</sup> overall. The winning time was 5.51 by Pierre Luc Pierichon of the French national track squad. <span style=""> </span>I was 56<sup>th</sup>...at least I beat Slippens and Stam.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stage 2: Saint Méen Le Grand – Inzinzac Lochrist (150km (well 148.8 actually but I’m rounding up))</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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 26<sup>th</sup>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stage 3:<span style=""> </span>Gavres – Brandérion (140km)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stage 4: Hennebont – Plougasnou (166km (plus 7km neutralised))</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stage 5: Plougasnou – Landivisiau (143km)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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 50<sup>th</sup> 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 4<sup>th</sup> place overall, but that’s bike racing, merde happens.</p><p class="MsoNormal">A few more pictures can be found here: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97782&l=d9713&id=624435000"><span>http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=97782&l=d9713&id=624435000</span></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Shalom </p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_69VjOV0sjGU8LdnM_K4nxbMzemzXHrUtY5BpZEW2YaXYZpDxyP58rZSq9oQ6cobih83qEMOxv_0ePawhFsdBLcklGbMtEKWJL1apvLlJnEFi8IJ2SFbRjOTSvAqIHjTpkpErEHf-eFdH/s1600-h/essor+hill.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_69VjOV0sjGU8LdnM_K4nxbMzemzXHrUtY5BpZEW2YaXYZpDxyP58rZSq9oQ6cobih83qEMOxv_0ePawhFsdBLcklGbMtEKWJL1apvLlJnEFi8IJ2SFbRjOTSvAqIHjTpkpErEHf-eFdH/s320/essor+hill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199175742252237250" border="0" /></a>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-1355052323122560672008-04-29T10:00:00.000-07:002008-04-29T10:07:18.292-07:00The Capital.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrFcizIzNzycRsKOx4E6f8XrwvdNJt36YyaaNdbTDVa8oR0jyT-jbsmpQWLCOz7aOmy-uk3actf9CoraHR7Y6hIPzr3A03q87_HtPDF984ikuPGdq_5Xz-V4L6logjrvJIN2TJnqZxcVF/s1600-h/DSCF0117.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrFcizIzNzycRsKOx4E6f8XrwvdNJt36YyaaNdbTDVa8oR0jyT-jbsmpQWLCOz7aOmy-uk3actf9CoraHR7Y6hIPzr3A03q87_HtPDF984ikuPGdq_5Xz-V4L6logjrvJIN2TJnqZxcVF/s320/DSCF0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194714260650503298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V9jpwczbu4aoI1FfAc_Q68gKyy3OgPpg7FNUCvgZqOYgouM69IkY4k7jMvaeyc0lLcfVkCEnFbSL1faYIXAaivd_OOKxmxyTdOCSP3_K24dm3MofuG_3N93-CDLsqTYCzO-OhhbM08VZ/s1600-h/DSCF0115.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V9jpwczbu4aoI1FfAc_Q68gKyy3OgPpg7FNUCvgZqOYgouM69IkY4k7jMvaeyc0lLcfVkCEnFbSL1faYIXAaivd_OOKxmxyTdOCSP3_K24dm3MofuG_3N93-CDLsqTYCzO-OhhbM08VZ/s320/DSCF0115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194713960002792562" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, I just realised I’ve started the last 4 blogs with the word ‘well’ and now is no time to stop. The last week saw quite a turnaround in conditions, up until now it’s been a little bleak riding down roads with bare trees and dark skies to accompany you. But in just seven days everything has changed, the trees suddenly grew leaves, the sun came out and best of all, the temperature went up. It was because of this riding got a little nicer and you actually wanted to spend the day on the bike rather than doing the bare minimum. We got in a very nice long ride in on the Wednesday going up the two local cols, the Col du Pigeonnier and the Col du Pfaffenschlick. One can only imagine the hilarity that ensued when we first found these, and then the pain felt climbing up them after. We skirted Wissembourg (without managing to actually make it into Germany) and headed south back to Haguenau. It’s only when the weathers good that you realise how good cycling terrain can get and Alsace is turning out to be quite nice.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>On the learning French front, it’s still pretty tough for me as some days I really feel like I’m making progress and others I don’t think I’m getting anywhere. But on the Friday while I was cleaning my bike outside alone, one of the older residents who possibly lives in the same apartment building came along. He said ‘Bonjour’ from a distance, like they do, I replied and thought that was the end of it. But no, he took an interest in my bike and started to walk over. ‘Oh no! What do I do? I don’t speak French, what if he starts talking to me? What do I say?’ But I remained calm and collected for the flurry of words that would signal the start and end of the conversation... But no, he spoke and I recognised a few of the words but wasn’t thinking to put them together. So I looked at him with a questioning face and asked “Pardon?” and he repeated what he had said. This time I was more attentive and worked out he was asking if I had a race at the weekend. “Oui, á dimanche, c’est pres de Paris.” To be honest I was pretty disappointed he knew I was English as I was pretty sure I had the accent down to a tee. He went on to ask a few other questions, most of which I was surprised to find I could answer, nothing complicated though and I still can’t actually ask the questions very well. This gave me a little confidence in my ability, which was soon lost once the next jumble of words was shot in my direction, none of which I knew, by another less understanding Frenchman.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>By the Saturday we were ready to roll and started our five hour drive from Alsace to the other side of Paris for our UCI 1.2 race Paris-Mantes, what fun. I can’t really remember how we passed the time, sitting mostly and breathing occasionally I think. We stopped for a nice meal just outside Reims which provided a little respite but the journey still took it’s time. When we arrived we went straight out for a ride around the surrounding area, it was at least 20 degrees and I was wearing shorts and a jersey...great! My legs felt well rested and ready to go for the following day’s race but I still wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. My mental state before races has turned into is a strange mix of apprehension and willingness to finally do well, it’s more of a twilight feeling than anything, somewhere between motivation and not caring. It’s because of this I get delusions of grandeur occasionally and then the other side of me thinks “HA! You must be joking mate.” After our ride we ate in the hotel’s restaurant with the other teams who were stopping close by, these included the Lorraine regional team, VC la Pomme and the Groupe Gobert Belgian pro team. We then had our briefing for the next day’s race where we were told, amongst other things, that if there was a break at least one of us was to be in it every time, hurray. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The next morning we were up ridiculously early as the race started at 8am due to it being situated close to Paris. We rode the 16km to the start with VC la Pomme, en route we came across what looked like a very fresh and what seemed like fatal car crash. Not the kind of thing you want to see ever, never mind when you are trying to psyche yourself up for a big race. When we arrived we went straight to sign on and then went to find the team car, which hadn’t arrived. It didn’t arrive until 15 minutes before the start and there was a mad rush to get leg warmers off, food in pockets, jackets in car etc. We just about made the start in time after a hasty warm up and we were waved away. Now imagine the best start you can have in a road race, not much scope is there? You could get in the break but you’ve still got 100 miles to go, you could save yourself but there are 100 other people doing the same. Now imagine the worst start to a road race you can have, now there is plenty of scope there. I didn’t have the worst start imaginable but it was pretty bad, after 5km sitting nicely near the front of the peloton there was a large bang followed by the obligatory looks of “well it’s not me”, but unfortunately for me, this time it was. My hand was in the air for quite a while as the whole bunch came passed and the team car came up to me, the change wasn’t particularly fluid but I was moving just as the last few cars of the convoy came through. The team car paced me for a little while, but the moto commissare came back and told him to stop, we hadn’t even done 10km and they wouldn’t let me get back on. Fortunately the Aix en Provence team car was willing to help me and they gave me a little respite before moving on with a quick wave of thanks. The chase then brought me into a small village with windy roads and I was closing in, then once again, disaster struck. It was downhill into the village and I was going a full pelt when out of nowhere came a speed bump. The jolt knocked both my bottles out of the cages and several swear words followed in both English and French (the only type of French I’m fluent in). Because we hadn’t passed 50km yet I couldn’t go back to the team car for more so I carried on my chase finally making contact.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Thankfully, Tom gave me a bottle on the premise that when I did go back, I’d fetch him another, unfortunately he’d be even more unlucky than me. I spent a little time recuperating in the middle of the bunch and then moved to the front to watch the skirmishes before we came to the first climb. This wasn’t so bad go up and over the top and I thought that despite my bad luck, I may finally have a good day, I was wrong. There was a long descent into the second GPM and on it Tom punctured, this was at an even worse time than I did. Because of the immediate climb after and the high pace, Tom could never regain contact. The forth climb of the day came at about 100km and I wasn’t well positioned, the reason for this I’m not sure of, but it was the case. I saw the words “GPM 1.4km” painted on the road and thought it was a bad sign, I was suffering. I gave it everything to stay on but towards the top there were splits that couldn’t be brought back and I ended up in a small group off the back. At this point I could make up a load of bull about being tired from my chase earlier, but I wasn’t, I had recovered fine and this was just a bad case of pain. This group (including 5/7ths of the VC Rouen 76 1<sup>st</sup> cat team, the team I was going to join) quickly lost time and after a while a small bunch of us formed ahead of the rest that at least wanted to make a good training ride out of it. Not the worst way to get a tan I thought. At times we weren’t exactly sure which way to go and had to shout at people at the side of the road but after a while a moto came back to us to guide us round the rest of the course and home. This group rode for a long time following this moto and it finally started to look like we were getting to the finish. At this point 3 of us decided to press on and left the rest behind and then something strange came into view, the back of the convoy. Could we have possibly caught them? Hell no, I realised this quickly enough and started to try and work out why we weren’t so far behind. We came through the finish only 3 minutes down after rapidly riding the last 5km together, considering we had ridden at least 60 kilometres off the back something was up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>After having a nice shower and getting changed I realised we were missing a rider, he appeared just as we were leaving the changing rooms. I was pretty sure he was still in there when I went out the back so why had he returned after me? Well the answer to this question is who knows? My group obviously skipped out some of the course but where and how much I have no idea and I’m not about to tell the finishing judges in a hurry, they placed in me a hollow but finishing position nonetheless of 75<sup>th</sup>. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry... I ended up laughing (and then crying). </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>After the long drive home we found that after going out the back, the rider who finished late had stopped to steal one of the signs that pointed the way of the race. Why he did this and where he kept it while he was riding I have no idea (he’s slightly crazy). But it could quite possibly have been that this sign was the one that could have pointed us in the right direction and not made us cut off some of the course.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>After feeling cramped on my bike, this week I’m going to play around with my position a little and see if I can get a little more comfy. Since starting riding I have only really just stopped growing and never had my position properly set up and measured, I’ve just winged it. I need something to make me feel different anyway as on Thursday we have a 1<sup>st</sup> cat race that we have to win. We should do really, the team easily has the strength but it’s a very hilly one so it’ll be interesting to see how it plays out.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Until next time,</p>mabutiAlastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2358319622540699579.post-44487530387481527802008-04-22T10:12:00.000-07:002008-04-23T00:58:46.704-07:00Deutschland ϋber alles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9HbfusvxnN20JqRXfyd6T-3dMo1UnsS5U513lQVW6UEPUtNjM6zeekQ6oVr7WBeNCVCcMpFIO1zp-3ffF6oWnJsZ1vuYS79ylQsE8wWGGPSjdoD1igGpW26oblrO2CtYBW72IwGvzLif/s1600-h/DSCF0106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9HbfusvxnN20JqRXfyd6T-3dMo1UnsS5U513lQVW6UEPUtNjM6zeekQ6oVr7WBeNCVCcMpFIO1zp-3ffF6oWnJsZ1vuYS79ylQsE8wWGGPSjdoD1igGpW26oblrO2CtYBW72IwGvzLif/s320/DSCF0106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192120005914438754" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gVDQEsZtLk7v-ykTM0c5l-ClPRlMeI11w8MzNJ_ZpaKqlkozDXODZB52thuDOqFNUzuwFuKJDJgqWzjfXLR86QwZzLxrOFRzbzHRjuPboR3xdi-mVgkWqoUHpgrLQhNOack5OpBrAlp-/s1600-h/Breisach+crit2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gVDQEsZtLk7v-ykTM0c5l-ClPRlMeI11w8MzNJ_ZpaKqlkozDXODZB52thuDOqFNUzuwFuKJDJgqWzjfXLR86QwZzLxrOFRzbzHRjuPboR3xdi-mVgkWqoUHpgrLQhNOack5OpBrAlp-/s320/Breisach+crit2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192119391734115410" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Well each week it seems like I’m telling you about how bad the weather has been, so this week I’ve decided not to. Instead I’ll tell you about a few of the things that I’ve noticed about France. First off, the make up of their regular villages, which I suppose isn’t that much different to England but there are more of them and they all must have certain things. For example, any village in France must have one place of habitation and to accompany this it must have an exceedingly large church along with Mairie (village hall). If it’s lucky it may have a boulangerie but all villages must have at least four pharmacies, each of which must have a large Green flashing cross, the flashier, the better. Of course I jest, but in England we only really have one pharmacy, Boots and that’s usually located in the nearest town centre. The French love them more than (or at least as much as) their wine, which is saying something. Another thing that the French have an abundance of is hairdressers, although you wouldn’t know it from some of the hairstyles going round (unfortunately I’m not really one to comment on this front as my hair has never been good, from the day I was born till now I have never had “cool”, “stylish” or even “smart” hair. I think it’s because it grows out of my scalp at strange angles and then continues to change direction seemingly each day.). Where was I? Oh yes, the weather, well on our long ride on the Wednesday we were ok for the first 3 hours but then I decided it would be a good idea to head to and under the nearest black cloud. This, apparently, was a bad idea and so we spent a good hour getting thoroughly drenched while going through the two stages of emotion felt in such weather conditions. These being annoyance and then humour and then back to annoyance and so on...</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve kept a pretty stable weight throughout the week, so this has led me to believe that maybe I am at a suitable weight and I was born to be a fatty with wrists smaller than a seven year-olds. In other news, after several washes all our white clothing and towels are now either red or a light pink. This is due to our kit being a deep red and shedding any colour given the opportunity. I’ve also been working on blowing out candles with the resulting air disturbance of one of my “one inch punches”, I don’t think I quite have the necessary fast-twitch muscles fibres (or any muscle fibres for that matter) in my arms to pull it off, but I shall keep trying. The week was spent looking forward to two 80km criteriums in Germany, criteriums aren’t usually the type of races I enjoy, mainly due to a couple of bad experiences and the fact that my frame is too large to have the centre of gravity necessary to go round corners at any speed. So I was cautious but also had an open mind, the kind of crits I was used to were all out from the gun and by the second lap you were either coughing up blood or you had pulled out. Maybe an 80km crit will be run off differently? The time soon came for me to find out.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The first race was just an hour and a half’s drive south and then a short hop over the border into Germany. Here we drove around for about 20 minutes wondering where the hell this race could be, in the end we resorted to asking some German folk about our whereabouts. The thing I found strange was the fact that neither nationality spoke any of the others language, I find it strange because of how close these two places are and there is absolutely no crossover. Germans speak German, French speak French. It’s like every English person knows 3 words of French and 1 word of German, but the French know 1 word of German and 3 words of English. Luckily after some school German lessons had paid off, we managed to find the place and it was no surprise we couldn’t see it. The circuit was round a large industrial estate car park outside the specified town, the loop taking in all the nice scenes, the trucks, the lifting gear, the factory buildings, lovely stuff. Due to our searching we were already late and this wasn’t helped when we came to sign on. In a show of typical German efficiency, they were taking the details of each licence and putting them into a computer while writing your number on a small sticker and putting it on the licence before placing it in a box, taking your 8 Euro transaction having to give 90% of people change and then, finally, giving you your number. With a queue of about 20 riders ahead of us this took it’s time and by the time we came to warm up, we managed 3 laps before getting ready at the start.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For crits I have learned a sly trick for starting at the very front, rather than getting to the start early to guarantee your position, keep warming up. But once the whole front line is taken and a mass of people is starting to appear behind them, don’t carry on round to finish your lap and come in behind them, no, turn around and reverse your ass into any space at all in the front row. Obviously no one will like you for it but they won’t like you when you beat them all either. It didn’t matter that I was on the front row because once we were waved away; I missed my pedal trying to clip in and instantly lost 40 places coming into the first corner. That was where I pretty much stayed for the rest of the race, 40-60 places from the front. I tried moving up several times but the circuit seemed to be designed to stop you (me anyway) doing so, I’d sprint down the side on the straights then get to a corner where I had to slow down, lose motivation, cry for a bit and then try again. Apart from the break I watched ride away it was a pretty uneventful race, for me anyway. It split up a little early on but luckily I was in the group at the time and didn’t realise. Sprinting out of every corner has to be good training though and because the course wound back on itself a couple of times you could see who was attacking and knew when it was going to get a little harder. The finishing straight came after the last fast corner and every lap was a mass sprint to get the speed back up again, in fact, the only time I didn’t sprint up it was when I actually finished. This was due to our group coming in for something like 20<sup>th</sup> place meaning that anyone who wanted to finish in anything like a respectable position had to come in the top 10 of the peloton. Considering the peloton was still 60 strong, this was not going to happen for everyone. This meant most of us just rolled across the line contented that we had passed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next day the race was later in the afternoon so in the morning I went out for an hour’s tootle because the weather was fine and dry. There were fewer of us doing it this day and none of us were responsible enough to actually find out where the race was. After a few panicked phone calls and some more German asking (possibly a new sport), by a minor miracle, we found the place. This time the race had more soul to it as it was run in a town centre, be it a small town. The circuit was almost a square with not quite straight lines; one side climbed up through the finish, then flat, then a fast meandering descent and then flat again. It was soon race time and with one slow lap of reconnaissance and a hasty warm up, we were just about ready. <span style=""> </span>This time I leant against some railings to make sure I didn’t have to miss my pedal when attempting to clip in and we were away. After a few laps of settling in they started to ring a bell and occasionally say something. At first I thought it may be primes as the pace picked up after they had rang them, but they rang it seemingly every lap so I thought there may just be some bell happy German at the side of the road by the finish. Because of this (and also because it hurt) I stayed in the bunch moving up when it was easiest. I was most pleased that when it got really hard and the bunch began to split, the four of us were always in the front group, either already there and coming across. In the final few laps I decided to have a go at the sprint and moved myself up into a not good but not bad position. Rounding the final corner I started my all out effort for the finish, but people were sitting up, why? Usually if any rider can finish in the top 20 they’ll risk death or at least injury to get there and I was coming in for what must have been about 15<sup>th</sup>. Even as I crossed the line people where freewheeling, so I thought something fishy might be going on, I was in Germany after all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It turned out that the whole damn race had been a big point’s race and every time they rang the bell we were supposed to sprint, position on the last lap had nothing to do with it. Also there were a damn lot of primes that if I had of known about, I would have at least had a go at trying to win a few. Luckily two of the guys won a prime each so we got a bottle of German Rosé out of it and went to MacDonald’s afterwards (although the prime wasn’t enough to pay for all of us...or even one of us). What was crazy was that the guy who had won got 27 points, 2<sup>nd</sup> had 19 and 3<sup>rd</sup> had 13 and after that everyone had 5 points. One of our guys unknowingly finished 6<sup>th</sup> after winning a sprint and getting 5 points.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh well, good training and the weather was superb for the weekend, although as I write this there are heavy overcast skies. Next week I have another UCI race, Paris-Mantes, I’m looking forward to it and I’m hoping to keep the finishing streak going.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Join me in my next adventure next week, but until that time,</p> 안녕<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzrJioWJs0awRNMoTZ-v-nkw2lFKCPCm0gpw2TIrcE8BDLNz0nF46-Pi24cG8WqndwmLs0nByfvs-IzIUEnbA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Alastairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02674996296195453619noreply@blogger.com0