Being Normal

I frequent various web forums, sites, read magazines, chat to other riders. The vast majority of them seem to treat riding bikes as some kind of "leisure" activity, involving a social aspect, some chat, some kind of refreshment and some kind of pausing during a ride. I thought I'd give this curious behaviour a go today, purely for experimental purposes.

Today, I:

- Discussed what wild garlic looked like, and examined the verges for some
instead of
- Staring blankly into the middle distance

- Rode some bits easy, some bits harder
instead of
- Keeping my heart rate between 125 and 133 BPM

- Paused at the bottom of a climb to discuss lines and the chance of making it
instead of
- Riding a flatish route to allow more consistent power output

- Had company to think of types of farm that don't have cows (Wind, arable, server, The)
instead of
- Using an MP3 player to pass 6 hours of solitude

- Ate two slices of chocolate fridge cake and drank some tea
instead of
- Two Torq bars and some recovery drink

And you know, I sort of see the attraction, but it's not for me. Four hour zone 2 road ride tomorrow - woo-hoo!

British XC Championship Ride Report

You know when you were little, and you paddled into the sea, and as you got further out the waves got higher and higher until one came along and lifted you off your feet and you had that slight moment of panic because you were a tad out of your depth?

As I waited for my race to start on Sunday, and was told that the Masters category was full of Pro/Elite riders who couldn't be bothered to contest Pro/Elite any more, I realised that I'd fallen out of a transatlantic flight into a spot some 500 miles west of the Azores.

On the start line I looked around. Everyone else was in sponsored kit. Everyone else's bikes seemed to be £3000 carbon full-sussers, with their names stickered onto them. I was the only one with a Camelbak. And a packed lunch.

As the race started I kept up for, ooo, ten or fifteen seconds. Then people started coming past me. All I heard for the first lap was "on your left" or "on your right" or "are you lost?". Things settled down a little, and then the Veterans came past me. And then the Grand Veterans. And then the people who normally drove mobility scooters. I was slightly cheered when one of the people who overtook me crashed on the gravel, the pain of others is a wonderful thing. I was more cheered when I decided to treat the whole thing as a training ride and allowed thoughts of stopping after two laps (out of five) to creep in.

And then, I finished my two laps. And carried on. The track was clearer, the singletrack swoopy, and I almost started to enjoy the ride. I'll stop after three laps, I thought. But oddly, I completed the third lap and carried on again, starting to think about completing the race.

Then I heard "leader coming through" and "on your right" and "on your left" and "can you move your picnic rug and flask off the trail please" and I realised I was being lapped. That wasn't the worst bit however. The worst bit was concentrating so hard on keeping breathing that I forgot to watch where I was going and ended up in a dead end. Those riders who saw me ride sheepishly down the fireroad and rejoin the course must have been confused, assuming that they had time to, what with all the going bastard fast and overtaking people they had to do.

So I stopped after four laps. I didn't feel bad - at least I wasn't so broken that I couldn't drive home. And I hadn't crashed (which I normally do each race, several times), or broken my bike, and the sandwiches had been very tasty.

Checking the results, the really crazy thing was I wasn't last. I'd beated the one-legged blind man on the unicycle, and nine others who must have had really really bad days.

So, my national XC career can currently be summarised in two words.

Not. Last.

I want a sperm helmet

First new thing - Time Trialling. Did my first yesterday and I didn't die. For those not in the know, people set off at 1 minute intervals to ride a course with a set distance. Winner does it quickest. The courses tend to be flatish, and there are a number of common distances - 10 miles, 25 miles etc. I did a 10 mile one with the local road club.

Now, time triallists make normal road cyclists (in their lycra shorts, tight tops, funny shoes and hats) look like your average catwalk model. Time triallists wear helmets shaped like sperm, skinsuits like fully body condoms and ride bikes so streamlined that they become invisible when viewed from the front. All this so they can shave 0.23s of their best times.

I quite enjoyed it. I want a sperm helmet. I want a £4000 bike that people walk into because they haven't noticed it. I want to dress like a gimp.

Second new thing (hopefully) - National XC Mountain Biking race. Coming this weekend. Gulp.

I think that's it for the immediate new things. Next week I will be learning tiger grooming and eating a pear.

I'm licenced!

I had to agree to drug tests too. I hope they don't ask, I wouldn't know EPO from ELO. Bound to fail.

Super fat burning machine

Did my 2 x 48 mile route again yesterday. I probably could have done the extra 4 miles this time to make it to 100, but my GPS batteries ran out so I'd not really know for sure anyway. That's my excuse.

I didn't feel super-hungry afterwards either - I read something last week that said that if your fat burning was more efficient then you wouldn't deplete your glycogen stores and wouldn't crave food as much after exercise. I'm not sure if this is true, but I'll willing to claim it - I am now a super fat-burning machine.

Not a super-fat burning machine. That's a different thing entirely. That's an obese pyromaniac.

Post camp analysis

I've been back from the Torq training camp for a couple of days now, so I thought I'd better jot some stuff down before I forgot it.

1. Great bunch of people. A really good mix, so it was easy to ride and chat, or sit and chat with someone.
2. Superb weather. After last year I had packed thermal base layers, waterproofs, winter boots, merino socks. I just didn't need them. A couple of mornings were chilly enough to need the gillet, arm and leg warmers, but soon it was down to minimum lycra.
3. I'm either fitter than last year or everyone else is slower. I was back of the pack last time, upper-mid-table obscurity this time.
4. It's hard to consume 17,308 kcals of Torq products in a week.
5. "German Night" consists of grilled meat, sausages, cabbage and 80s heavy metal.
6. I still can't get up that short steep technical climb, but I'm much faster up the long rocky one. I reckon I could do it in middle ring next time.
7. Funniest event of the week - little dog savaging Anth's shoe, then tearing around the garden pursued by the slightly bigger dog.
8. Matt still doesn't know the way back from Ojen, off-road.
9. I'm allergic to those caterpillars.

So, in summary, a great week. If only I could stay out there... or at least be paid to be a full-time athlete.

Seaside!

Day 2, tough this training camp.

Training camp day 1

4 hours done, coffee time. And we might try and sneak a beer in.

That's a lot of calories

I'm off to Spain tomorrow with Darren for the Torq training camp. This will involve riding 6-7 hours a day, slowly, with other people who are much fitter than I am. Hopefully, it'll be warm and sunny but given that the past two times I've been there rain has featured heavily (and attempted hypothermia the second time) I'm not too expectant.

Everything is now packed - it's generally a three day operation for me to get everything ready for a bike trip. This year all the energy products have been sent out beforehand rather than being flown in by Matt and the Torq crew.

I therefore have:

24 energy bars, 222 kcals each = 5228 kcals
20 energy gels, 180 kcals each = 3600 kcals
1 kg of recovery drink = 3500 kcals
1.5kg of energy drink = 5475 kcals

Making a grand total of 17803 kcals. That's just over 7 days worth of normal food intake. Now, I'm only going for 7 days, plus there will be all the normal food thrown in too. Brilliant! And beer. And wine. But I must remember to lay off the cheese, for cheese is evil according to Matt.

Darren also has the same amount. If the plane crashes in a "Lost" style manner, we'll be fine for a couple of weeks. Somewhat buzzy from all the sugar, but fine.

The Dark

There it looms, black in all its blackness, slightly damp and glistening in the cold hard electric light.

It waits for me, waits, waits for me to separate its elements, to wrap it in bubbles of air and tubes of foam.

It waits for the cable ties, the torx key, the spanner, the tape.

It waits for the plastic caps, the plastic braces, the plastic spacers.

The cordura cases, the padded bags, the lock, the tag.

I really really must start packing my bike.