2012 - A Year in Numbers

Some cyclists love numbers. Numbers can define what we do and how we’ve done it.

We all seem to throw numbers around -  in many cases without even having to define the unit of measurement.

For example, I could ride a 10 or a 25, aspire to do a 12 and manage a short 1:04 and a lot of like-minded people would know exactly what I was talking about.

I like the numbers and although I don’t ride for their sake, they help me understand what I have done – where I’ve done well, where I am lacking and where I can improve – and they help me plan for the following year – most of my 2013 targets have a numerical quality. Either a bigger or smaller number. You know which is which.

So in review, the top line. For me;

2012 = 5549

While...

2011 = 4155

And...

2010 = 3187

That’s progression and it makes me happy.

2012 was my 2^nd season of time trialling and I managed to knock 2.12 off my 10, 6.58 off my 25 and 7.34 off my 50. In 2013, I will be targeting a 100 and a 12 and hoping for another 1.00 off my 10, 3.00 off my 25 and 6.00 off my 50.

Looking at my Garmin Connect, it will tell me that the 5549 for 2012 encompassed 309hrs on the bike at 16.5mph. With an average HR of 136bpm, I climbed 27,000m and burned 258,000Cal. This included 37 races, 4 Reliability rides and 235 other training and leisure rides. I also used the bike as part of my commute to work 64 times.

Financially I made £35 in prize money, and spent a classified amount on entry fees, kit and consumables. In this game, the numbers don't always add up.

Solo Touring - East Anglia Day 3

Skegness to Colchester

Planned 129 miles

　

Hanging out the washing in Skegness

Third time lucky. The last day was the first I managed to leave on time. It probably helped that I wasn't worried about getting the tent as dry as possible before packing - it was unceremoniously screwed up and stuffed in a bag. The same went for the rest of my kit, with the notable exception of food, which I wanted in the best possible condition and close to hand!

Today was going to be a battle on three fronts versus 1. Distance; the longest day of the trip at 129 planned miles - 2. The Elements; although it promised to be dry, the wind was still howling from the South and - 3. My backside; sore after day one, painful after day two, it was now agony.

I had taken account of some of these challenges in planning - In most cases, you control the distance, so I couldn't grumble about this one. The elements are also in the lap of the gods, so again, no complaints. The state of my rear end could have been avoided.

You are always going feel two days of 100+ miles on a bike but there are things you can do to minimise the 'sensation'.

Chamois Creme? Never used it, probably never will - its another of those lines I am yet to cross, like shaving my legs. I am led to believe, however, that Chamois Creme is a good thing that helps minimise the nasty effects of friction at the rear.

The offending item

Saddle - that's the fella... biggest lesson learned on this trip - don't mess with a tried and tested saddle, and certainly don't change your saddle a week or two before a big trip. If you are going to stand any chance of surviving a trip like this in such a delicate area ( and I don't mean Lincolnshire), ride with a well worn in, well known, friendly saddle. I committed the cardinal sin and swapped my beaten up old Fizik Arione for a flash, tarty little Fizik Pave CX two weeks before leaving. A decision based purely on aesthetics came back and, literally, bit me on the arse.

I knew in the back of my mind this was a risk - I even took the remedial step of packing the Sudocreme. At least I wasn't going to get my welts infected. I was still using the stuff a week later, but am pleased to report that all is now well...

A mere 10 miles into the day, I felt like getting off and staying off. It had taken me just over an hour. The wind was ridiculous and Lincolnshire didn't help - pan flat, very few trees and roads that only seemed point into the wind.

I retraced my route from day two and ploughed on after popping a combo of ibuprofen and paracetemol, eventually grinding my way into Boston. I needed an espresso, cake and half an hour to pull myself together.

I got the message

Retracing yesterday's route again, I stuck as far left on the A16 and A17 as possible to minimise the risk of being added to the very helpful roadside kill-count-ometer signs and eventually pulled into the service area at Long Sutton where I had hidden in McDonalds from the thunderstorms. This time I opted to revisit my childhood and settled into Little Chef for today's Breakfast Number Two. With another ibuprofen/paracetemol top up, I was in good form and ready to roll.

Wisbech became my next target and I discovered roads flatter and straighter than anything Lincolnshire had to offer. I had previously thought this impossible. Further into The Fens, the flatness and straightness of these roads would be consistently trumped.

A very straight, long road

My mood darkened somewhat and having passed through Wisbech, 'The Capital of The Fens', and tweeting something about being stared at by too many "bog trotting Fen Monkeys" I hit upon the idea for a book - I would ride the nation, concocting insults for every town on my way. The combination of physical exertion, a mental inability to visualize getting home today and the unknown pharmacological effects of a sudocreme/ibuprofen/paracetemol/Little Chef Breakfast cocktail, led to something bordering paranoia. I was losing it a little.

I am not normally a swearer - my family would certainly attest to this, but when the going gets hard, and I am on my own on the bike, I will swear. I will do it a lot - sometimes mumbling, sometimes shouting. Its normally reserved for hard hills, but I discovered on this trip it is also helpful on the flat. I am sure I am not the only one - its something the cycling magazines will never tell you... the best aid to getting through a tough section on a ride is to swear yourself silly.

A very straight, long river

90 degree turn back into Norfolk

I can't really say much more about the Fens, apart from repeat the obvious - they are very, very, unimaginably flat, they go on for ever, the skies are massive and everything is in straight lines, that go on, and on, and on..Take a look on a map at the line of the New (and Old) Bedford Rivers between Earith and Downham Market. Dead, dead straight.... oh and it gets a bit breezy.

Shortly after Littleport, I began to notice the appearance of some left hand drive cars. The proportion increased steadily as they heralded my arrival in Mildenhall, one of the few remaining, large US Air Force bases of East Anglia. When I was a kid they were all over the place and the Yanks were a very common sight - I also loved the skies being full of Phantoms, Thunderchiefs, A-10s and Hercules - this really took me back to the 70's and I was surprised at the size of the current Mildenhall base. They only seem to have the boring stuff here now though - I saw one Hercules and a row of KC-135 tankers on the apron and that was it.

Back to civilisation

The landscape now changed, quite significantly and as I headed for Bury St Edmunds, I felt like I was back in familiar home territory. The roads were lined with trees, there were woods, undulations and bends in the roads! The pretty villages of my East Anglia returned and my mood lifted enormously. Once in Bury, I was reminded what a hill looked and felt like. I was pleasantly surprised my legs seemed to enjoy the challenge and the change in landscape led to some much needed shelter from the wind. My pace started to pick up again.

Last pitstop - Lavenham

After about 12 hours on the road, I stopped for a breather and some malt loaf in Lavenham. I had been carrying this large malt loaf for the whole trip and it probably weighed close to a kilo... it is one of those foods that I love once I am eating it, but I need a forceful nudge to start it. This is why I was on day 3 and it was unopened. I took the plunge and within 10 minutes the whole thing had been devoured. I followed that up with some more of the dry oats/raisins/nuts combo of the previous day and took on a couple of pints of water.

I was now ready for the final push. I wasn't showing quite as much mileage as planned, so decided to take a slightly more roundabout route home, using parts of my regular training routes from Nayland to Bures, Wormingford, Fordham, West Bergholt and on to home.

Home. I had left Skegness at 06:30 and arrived just a shade before 20:00. 131 miles at an average of 13.1mph with 9 hrs 57 mins spent in the saddle.

My first solo touring trip had taken 3 days, covered 377 miles and despite the rigours of some parts, left me itching to do more. I really enjoyed the experience and would highly recommend it. There were times on the road that I wished I had someone with me to share a joke or a sight but for the most part, I enjoyed being able to plod on at my own pace. It also would have been nice to have someone around to share the breaks and the stories of the day but the overiding feeling was one of achievement and when I achieve something completely on my own it is a very satisfying feeling. You learn a few things about yourself too....

Some lessons were learned and wise words from many sources were confirmed - I plan to break some of these down in the coming weeks to a series of short thoughts on individual aspects of touring.

Thanks for getting this far with my ramblings!

　
　
　

Pre-ride, Crap Weather Procrastination

The forecast for a fine weekend was wrong. It should dry up later, but what I am looking at now, is not dry or appealing.

Writing this is pure procrastination - my kit is all ready to go but I am doing the classic "hang on for 10 minutes; it might get better"



Haven't worn this one in a while



I really don't mind getting wet but after being put through some seriously foul weather last week, my bike received the full royal clean up treatment and I am just reluctant to inflict any more abuse so soon.

I have a nice relaxed  Stour Valley ride planned with my son for later today, but I wanted to get an hour or two of training in before the house stirs.

Deep breath, here goes...

Poor Preparation

Tonight I have a time trial and I don't exactly feel prepared.

In fact its been that way for the last few weeks.

As much as I love this sport and pastime, like most people, I have other commitments - usual stuff like a job, family, chores, social life. Fitting a decent training programme around these other commitments can seem impossible at times. Some of the time, I manage it and sometimes I don't.

I was able to put in some seriously good miles earlier in the year and saw the benefits - feeling stronger, improving TT times and that powerful ache in the legs that tells you when you're off the bike that as soon as you get on, you are going to be awesome.

For me there are two potential barriers to putting in some good training - motivation and the much harder, "impossibility of the situation"

Motivation goes a long way - I personally need a target, something on the edge of achievability or something new. This is where events are great, because the last thing I want to do is turn up and be crap, having spent good money to be there. I must confess a genetic advantage here - my dad was a Yorkshireman and I am determined to get my moneys worth, even if it is only a £2.50 pre entry TT.

Motivation helps you shoehorn training into times that previously didn't exist. Although I often have a long working day, I can normally fit in sessions at the most unsociable times - mainly very early in the morning.

If I don't have to be at work early and don't have any meetings requiring a suit, the perfect start for me is a full on commute to work. I must confess a geographical training advantage here as this gives an instant boost of 60+ miles to the training bank and generally puts me in a great mood for the day. Unfortunately, this approach is limited to about once or twice a month over the half of the year when its light early enough.

There are other early morning routes I use closer to home - some out in the countryside around the town where I live - great for the soul, or more concentrated tight circuits in town including hill reps, but close enough that if I have a mechanical, it will not mean my whole work morning disappears down the drain

Recently, things have been different.The "impossible factor" has come in to play. I am sure some coaches would attribute this very phrase to a lack of motivation or creativity in my time management. However, I think it is important to recognise that sometimes you just can't do it all. Recovery, is as important as doing the hard stuff and an essential component in any successful training programme. It is not a soft option, its not a get out, its part of the process and in my life, long working days and a long commute can also be "hard stuff".

This week has been a very good example - a heavier than usual workload has meant earlier starts, many meetings requiring socially acceptable clothing in decent condition and later nights. Trying to squeeze in a training ride this week, would probably finish me off. Thats the reality.

So, tonight I have a 21 mile scratch TT and I feel very underprepared.

I did the club 10 last week and that was my first ride since the previous week. I still managed a course PB, so this was hardly a disaster. I had the following day off work and had a great ride with a fantastic bunch of guys around some of the 2012 Olympic Road Race course - a total of 76 miles and good for the soul. Character building stuff as well - probably the wettest I have ever been on a bike. My final "training" session was on fathers day and involved a hybrid, a riverside track, some haddock, chips, Guinness and a short hail storm.

Tonight will be my first ride at this distance, so whatever time I conjur up from my limited reserves, it will be another PB. And that is good enough for me.

... and as every cyclist knows, there's always the next ride to prepare for.