Fathers Day

I was watching a TV programme about sportsman the other day and how they all have superstitions or at least routines and habits from which they never deviate. The only common thing with all my rides or races is that I'll leave the house late and ill prepared.

A routine is what I need, but I just can't do it. Nothing I own is ever in the same place as before, don't get me wrong I'm not messy (okay a little) I put things away but because the correct place for something hasn't been established I have a hell of time remembering where. So the only ritual I was aware of until today was that I spend the morning searching the house saying, 'I've saw it somewhere recently'. I now keep my old helmet and shoes in the car so should forget my currents ones I'll still be able to race.

I went to Richmond Park today to have a crack at the 3-Lap Challenge, not with much hope as I'd been to mate's funeral yesterday and got a little worse for wear. Anyhow as I approached the Park, I felt the need to pee. And it occured to me I always get the need at the same time. And every time instead of waiting till I get to the public toilets in the Park I pull over to my favourite spot. Why there I can't anwser, it is over looked by a block of flats and on a slope so my wee runs back down towards me and between my feet. But there it is my Richmond Park ritual.

The actual 3 laps went quite well, and I posted a time of 50:21. I've been worried about my fitness lately but the time shows if I don't get held up by cars and breeze isn't too strong I'm not too bad. I'm still struggling to be pleased though, because if I'd known how well I was going I'd have pushed that bit more, as it was I found myself drifting of in to my thoughts and losing concentration. I've made a mental note (can't find a pen or paper) to remember my bike speedo next time, and my sunglasses, it's too early to say what I'll forget instead.

I wish I had some great cycling report to post but I don't. In fact I've been fighting my corner to still maintain my training schedule as my wife thinks it is effecting the quality of our relationship. We don't talk enough (obviously) but since when I'm not training we just watch a variety of crap TV I don't see the issue. Now the Apprentice has finished I have Masterchef to suffer, with Casualty and Holby City in between.

She thinks all I do is watch TV, cycle on the spot in the conservatory and nod off on the sofa, when I should be paying more attention to her needs. I pointed out the battery/light bulb changing duties I fulfill, along with putting the bin out on a weekly basis. Apparently I missed the point she was making. With luck we should be talking again by the weekend, until I ask to go for a ride.

It shouldn't be this hard.

As usual, with my family, work and cycling life balance up the creek I took to the turbo trainer for a quick 1 hour (can 1 hour be quick/slow?) training session.

Now my motivation has been low for some time, but with good reason. I haven't raced for almost a year, I haven't entered any future events either and I've failed to get to the races I had lined up. So I'm left wondering why I train at all, or even ride my bike since more often than not it is in doors on the trainer.

A friend asked why as I was cyclist my legs were so pale, I replied because it is dark when I cycle at 11pm, and I'm in doors anyway. I could tell she didn't get how I could have a hobby, passion. Especially as I don'thave time to race.

The National 10 TT I had been training for clashed with a funeral, c'ai la vie. All the exciting stage races are held on the weekend of my wedding anniversary so they are a no no, even if I promised to be back for dinner somewhere nice. Apparently I shouldn't even think such a thing. The Smithfield Nocturne would have been very convenient but it falls on my son's birthday.

So I mounted my bike on the turbo with some resignation, wondering why I bother. I could just have a cold beer and some crisps.

I started my current time trial training based on cadence and gearing, and almost immediately found it hard to maintain my usual cadence in selected gears. I struggled on, imagining the sweat pouring off me, splashing into the puddles on the floor was the lactic acid I had building up in my legs.

After 35 minutes I thought sod it. It wasn't working for me, it shouldn't be this hard. I climbed off the bike as if I'd just pulled out of the tour.Then when releasing the turbo fly wheel, I realised the rear brake caliper was stuck against the wheel, doubling the usual resistance.

I'm back.

Back by popular demand - I hope the people talking me into the world of blogging again bother to post some comments!

In truth I haven't so much been away from the blog but cycling or more precisely racing. It's been close to a year since my last race now, apart from a brief spin in the Good Friday Meeting at Herne Hill.

Many may know that you aren't meant to race at Herne Hill unless you have done the induction, which makes perfect sense as track racing is different to road racing in so many ways. I was well aware of this despite not having ever been on a track before. Unfortunately every Saturday morning I turned up for the induction it rained. I now had the dilemma as to whether or not to race on Good Friday, already having entered but with zero experience of riding on a banked track yet alone a race, yet alone a race against the best in the world.


Perhaps I always knew I'd go for it, too good an opportunity to turn down and how hard can it be, as my friend Patrick pointed out.

Walking across the track into the centre was a thrill, seeing the Olympic squad and all ther entourage setting up rollers and tuning slip streamed carbon bikes may my stomach turn. This was rediculous. I put down my half empty rucksack and hung up my borrowed bike.

My mobile rung, it was Patrick from near the beer tent. I went to meet him, I needed to get some perspective on what I was about to do. He summised that the banking (which now looked very steep) would be forgotten once I was in the thick of the racing. I believed him.

As luck would have it, beofre my first race, I snatched my first few laps of a track, fine on the relative flat in the centre, but a little uncomfortable the higher I went. Then my race was called, in a panic I put on Patrick's helmet not mine and headed to line up. I figured I'd start right at the back so as to not cause anyone a problem right from the gun. Someone chose to hold the rail behind me, well that's his look out I thought. Then he tapped me on the shoulder, I turned round and the rider asked how often the sprints were, I said 'every 5 laps I think' then turned back round. I looked to the sky and almost said a prayer, Gold medalist Ed Clancy was starting behind me.

Once we were off without incident, I kept a low profile getting used to the change of speeds and the banking. The pace wasn't too bad, I could manage moving up from the back to the front in less than a lap. Apart form a brief spell on the front to stretch the legs, I decided to keep well within my limits and having gained a little experience see if I could may be pull something out of the bag in the other two races I had entered.

Of course it then rained and the day was over almost before it had begun. My wife turned up late, so she has still never seen me race! Yet alone against the GB team.

I was a little deflated when I got home, I could have put a little more into that first race, seen what I capable of. Never mind. Pat confessed he thought I was mad to even give it a go, as did most of the Paragon. I little fun, but now I need to enter some races with the serious intension of winning.

And teach my little boy a few more card tricks.

Surrey League

Ever race day starts the same, the appointed hour to hit the road and make my way to circuit passes in a blur as I manage getting the children fed and possibly even dressed. This time I was supposed to be picking Patrick up en route, but by the time I was ready to leave, he was already 45 minutes ahead under his own steam. Something was bothering me about the race, like when you have to double check you've locked the front door, but I double checked my kit bag all seemed in order.

So my first race of the day is getting to Tenderden before it is too late. I pull up and spot Pat, milling around already with his number pinned on. I ask him to park the van as I dash in to register. The Surrey League have splashed out on some transmitters to accurately clock the times, interesting as the Tour de France have now followed suit. It all adds time to the pre race preparation though, I'm really going to have leave the house only 30 minutes late soon.

As the field headed off, I warmed up by yo-yoing from the back to middle and back again. It was getting very hot and as I reached down for my water bottle I was reminded that I didn't have bottle cage yet alone a drink. Now I remembered what I was bothering me.

Half way round the first lap and a few people made a break, it looked doomed despite the healthy numbers in it as it began to split up. I saw a prospect and moved up and off the front. I bridged the gap and collected the riders in no mans land. We were eight, I put in a long stint, for which Andy from Dulwich Paragon kindly described me as a motor bike. We pulled away, and I moved of the front. Soon a cry came that we were caught, a few riders sat up dispirited. It is common knowledge that the best time to attack is as a break is caught. Then why not attack again even if you are in the break! So I hit the front again.

From an after race discussion this made Andy smile, we pulled away once more. I did a longer turn now taking no chances. My strategy was risky and it can only work with 100% commitment, all or nothing. If I make this break work, I'm guaranteed 8th place and some points which is what I need.

I know riders who enter 2 races a week, I'm 1 every 6 weeks. This makes it very hard to accumulate points, I got my 40 to make 2nd Cat in 5 races. I now need 40 points to stay there. I can't wait and play the game for 1st place. If I can make certain of 6 points early in the race, that is what I'll do.

Sadly, the lack of water played it's part eventually and I cramped on the last lap. I was possibly paying the price for the early efforts too. I now had the fear of being caught by the bunch as I rode alone. I forgot to mention I didn't have a speedo either so judging my pace was very difficult. The last climb was hard, very hard, but once at the top the ride to the finish was easy I knew I was home and dry.

I had to smile,to be honest I felt like a winner. I had seen 6 points up for grabs and taken them. Of course there was a possibility of more, but without water I knew that was a long shot. My fellow breakees questioned the lack of water bottles, as if I'd measured my pre race fluid in take precisely so I could ride without the added weight. I was sorry to dissappoint them - just good ole stupidity.

Who knows when the next race will be, but the new Oberon bike has now been christened.

My 1st 2upTT

I usually do things alone. I always have done. I'm shy, which may be the biggest reason and also I'm scared of failure so the longer I can keep my intentions secret the longer it is before anyone can question me of the wisdom.

The Kingston Wheelers do a club 10 TT every other Wednesday, and this week was to be a 2 UP. I'd checked and it was possible for me ride solo, whichh was perfect. I'd get to test myself against the clock safe in the knowledge that I couldn't fail in anyway as everyone one else was in pairs.

However another Kingston Wheeler was looking for a partner, and asked me. Before I knew it, I had teamed up with a complete stranger unaware of his strength. He may drop me like a stone.

Ben is a nice guy, I still don't know him very well, his PB was 23 something which didn't mean much as I didn't know the course. We'd hit upon the tactic of changing every 2.5 miles,which shows how much we knew.

Now I'd assumed a 2up TT, would be easier than a solo ride, not least because you spend half the race drafting. Boy was I wrong.

I was in front at first and setting a reasonable pace but well within the 2.5 miles Ben came round me. I didn't have a speedo so assumed I'd been going a little easy for him, however as I settled behind him, I got the impression he had underestimated how hard the going was. I wasn't complaining it was obvious every 2.5 for a change was silly.

We changed at will, not on the downhills. I dropped him briefly, but we rode together very well and I found myself really enjoying it - plus it seemed a fast ride.

We rode hard side by side across the line, we'd past a few couples and I had a good feeling.

We couldn't hide our exhaustion in the carpark, in our attempts not to let each other down and our competitve sides we'd done it pretty much at our max. Once I felt my lungs returned to their rightful place I had a drink and smiled.

The results showed us as second, which I have to say is a good result.

Sadly they only do one 2UP a year, but I'm keen to find another.

That's racing

You know you've had a bad day on the bike when some one says 'That's racing'.

I really dissappointed with my result at Smthfield Nocturne, not because I didn't win so much, but more why I didn't win. Anyone who had down a criterium on short, tight circuit will tell you that starting near the front is paramount. So why was lining up last behind everyone else! Stupidity, is all I can think of.

On the first lap I could see the head of the field 3/4's of the way round already! This put some fire in my belly and I decided the training wasn't going to be in vain. I raced throught the field, bridging multiple gaps to make it to the lead group.

Then I hit the barriers. My fault. Two riders had got away, and I was impatient. You need to take risks sometimes, but this wasn't one of them. Stupidity again.

I'd dropped so far back by the time I was back on the bike I had little chance of making an impact. But what chance I had was diminished by my attitude. I just thought sod it. I cruised round with little interest in racing, angry and fed up.

With a bit more belief I could have snatched some points, but I wasted my form and all those all hours in training because I just felt everything was against me and I decided not to fight it.

It's only one race and may be it is for the best, as I learnt a lot from all the mistakes.



Me leading the 2nd group round, a little bored and disheartened.