Winter

Winter is an odd time for cyclists. Gone are the razor sharp tan lines, short sleeves, and vented shoes of summer, to be replaced by base layers, bulky gloves, and enough lights to shame Blackpool’s Pleasure Beach.  

Like many I took a break at the end of the racing season to rest my mind and body. I returned to my bike mid-November having put on more weight than I ought to have done, and feeling distinctly out of sorts compared to a month earlier. No longer did I have the sensation of weightless legs driving over the top of a climb. No it was back to wrestling for a series of lower and lower gears before my derailleur finally reported back the inevitable conclusion that there were no more gears to give.  

As I have written previously much of my riding and training is done on my commute. This is made up of a 30 mile ride with over 1600 ft of climbing, and a 5-15am start. In the summer this is not a lot of fun. In the winter it can be pretty tough when you are woken in the pitch black, to a thick layer of frost on the ground, and a cold house an hour and a half before the central heating chunters into life. Getting up, getting out and conquering the first 5 miles is the biggest challenge. I have a lengthy 30mph descent about a mile from home. When the temperature is below zero this can only be described as really quite chilly, and this is followed a couple of miles later by a 16% climb. On cold legs. In the dark. It’s all good training though right?  

Having come back in November I think I’ve wintered ok. December and January were both over 400 mile months.  I’m certainly not race fit, but I’m only about 3-4 lbs over my race weight, and I’m putting in some decent times and other numbers, especially when considering the time of year. I had even managed to get through the winter without tasting the tarmac. At least I had done until yesterday when a patch of ice caught me out and dumped me savagely on my left hand side. I have the usual cuts and bruises to show for it, and, more importantly a scuffed Ultegra STI lever just one week before they are going to be replaced. I took my frustration out my punching the road, so I also have a sore hand to add insult to my injuries.  

A few words on winter bikes. I was schooled that you ride a cheap bike for winter, and that in a complete about turn from your race bike, weight is your friend rather than your enemy. With this in mind I have a pannier rack on, and most rides have a 7kg pannier bag in addition to all the lights and other paraphernalia that goes with riding in freezing temperatures. I have allowed my gears to degrade to the point where they hardly function – necessitating a proper clean - and smashed my Mavic Open Pro rims in and out of pot holes so hard that the rear split in two separate places, and is so out of true I had to keep letting the brakes off a bit. Hopefully slogging around on a below-par bike will pay dividends come the racing season. 

It is with more than a little jealousy that I look at a number of the guys who I was racing with in the late season who have been off on training camps in Southern Italy and Portugal this month. One would assume they have been able to do a fair bit more riding than I have managed, and will start the season in better shape. For my part I have a two week holiday I Croatia at the end of March so hopefully there won’t be too much snow to prevent me getting some miles in.  

As the race season coughs its way into life, my thoughts have turned to what sort of season I would like to have, and when it may begin. I am half tempted to put in a “tester” race before I go to Croatia as this will give me a good guide as to where I am, and provide a good base to get the most out of my time when I am there. In terms of objectives this year, I would like to push on and obtain my First Cat licence. It would be nice to race a Premier Calendar race. And I would look to be competitive in some of the lesser E123 races. Sounds easy when you say it like that!

Starting racing - practical stuff

If you want to get into road racing you will need several things over and above getting fit:
 
1) A helmet
2) A racing licence - which you physically need to take and give in at races.
3) Enter a race - usually in advance.
 
Everything else is non-essential, although it does mean that you will have to endure the (at times) unfathomable British Cycling website.
 
Many people recommend joining a club. Although I haven't done so, this is good advice. It will give you some experience of riding in a group very close to other riders, and will give you a chance to learn etiquette away from the speed of racing. Road racing is either a) on the road, or b) on a closed circuit like Hillingdon or Crystal Palace. Both have pros and cons. Many people start out circuit racing due to their being no cars to hit.
 
There are lots of rules for cycling which you can find here:
 
http://www.britishcycling.org.uk/staticcontent/bcst_rulebook_and_constitution
 
Thankfully most of them are common sense, and there is no test to check you have read them.
 
You will need a racing licence though. If you want to score points you will need a full race licence (Silver or Gold). If you want to just have a go then a Bronze licence will do. More details are here:
 
http://www.britishcycling.org.uk/membership/article/compare-membership-packages
 
Details of forthcoming races are also on the BC website which is searchable by date, race type etc etc
 
http://www.britishcycling.org.uk/events
 
If you want to road race you will need to enter in advance (although it is possible to enter on the day you won't be guaranteed a ride). Some of the closed circuit races are easier to enter on the day.
 
You can also keep track of your progress, and those of any other BC member. Mine is shown here:
 
http://www.britishcycling.org.uk/points?person_id=134086&year=2011&d=4
 
As with most things in life it is more difficult to explain than it is in reality. Once you have the three things above turn up and have fun. That's the most important thing after all.

Some thoughts on training to race.

 A number of people have asked me about training. I am somewhat reticent to wade into an area that has been pretty exhaustively covered, and so the thoughts below are my own experience. I do not profess to be an expert, nor a scientist. The results of my training you can read about in my other posts.

Context and backdrop are both probably useful here. My background is as a cyclist. I raced 20 years ago, and was schooled in the old-fashioned way of training – miles, miles and more miles. Having come back to the sport in the last few years, I have tried to overlay this with some of the more recent scientific thinking. I own and use a power meter. I do interval training regularly. I also run, swim, use a power plate and lots of other unconventional “cross” training.

This year I have had one very specific aim – to road race – and so my training has been structured accordingly. If you want to ride sportives, or time trials, or even just to get fit then there may be better ways of doing so I started training for cycling more seriously late in 2010. I was already reasonably fit having run a sub 1-30 half marathon, and cycled extensively for fun during the course of 2010.

I approached winter the old fashioned way. By that I mean I rode miles - lots of them, and not particularly quickly. A typical week would be 150-200 miles between November and February. Many of those miles were on my commute to work. It is about 30 miles, has 1600ft of climbing, was often VERY cold, and was done on a empty stomach. I would also run once a week, swim at least a mile once a week, and do a core session in the gym. Typically I would not ride a long way at the weekend as family commitments make the time away difficult for me.

Some people like to vary their training around different routes. I don’t, as it means I can get away with thinking less, and also means I can directly compare from ride to ride. I perhaps have three standard circuits from home with distances varying from 30 miles, to 60 miles. There are various loops I can add too to make up almost any distance. All the routes contain at least 3 decent climbs which I always ride hard. I almost always time my rides, and have good records of my best times over the various distances.

Around the end of February as I looked forward to my first race, I started to vary my training a bit, so did less cross training, and more intensive bike specific work. To my mind there are several elements you need for road racing, and you will only win if you can do one or two of them well. Clearly you need to be able to ride 60-80 miles at a reasonably pace. I suspect that 95% of people who start the race have the capability to do this, and yet 20%+ will get dropped, and all but one won’t win. In my race reports I have tried to explain my aim for a particular race. In some races that aim was simply to get round and finish.

Races are typically decided in relatively short periods of time, when attacks happen. It might be the wind direction on a particular part of the course. It might be a climb, or a drag, or a sprint out of a dead turn. Or, it could be a bunch sprint. What all of these events have in common is that they will be very hard, and relatively short. As you move up to higher levels of competition so the intensity gets higher and the period longer but the basic premise remains.

Including some sort of intervals in your training is the best way to replicate the maximum heart rate / recover / max HR of a race. The mistake many people make is not pushing themselves hard enough in training, and intervals are perhaps the best way to do so. I would typically do one or two interval sessions a week, to the point where I was riding myself to a standstill. I have three sorts of interval sessions to keep it a bit varied. Intervals hurt a lot, and will make you want to vomit.

1)In the gym / turbo trainer. 5 x 30s at max effort, with 30 seconds recovery between each, followed by 5 x45s, recovery as before, then 5 x 60s, recovery as before. Then repeat in higher gear / with more resistance. I would combine the last 2 one minute sessions into one massive 2 minute effort.

2) Hill repeats. I have three climbs and would do 5 repeats on each. They are all about 2 minutes of effort. The first is about 6-8% gradient with a max of maybe 10%. The second is shorter and much steeper – max 26%.  The third somewhere between the two with a max gradient of about 16%.

3) Spinning classes. Although full of women who have vacuum packed themselves into ¾ length shorts they are good fun and can be very good training. Remember, the point is to push yourself as hard as possible, as it is particularly easy to be distracted into not working hard enough.

The latest fad in cycling is for power meters. My view is that they represent another string to the bow, rather than being the holy grail. At the risk of repeating myself ad-nauseam, the issue that most people have with training is thinking quantity is a substitute for quality. 40 minutes of intervals is likely to be far more beneficial than another 4 hours at 18mph. That said a power meter is useful for measuring progress, or on the Turbo Trainer.

There are two old adages that I think are apposite; Firstly, train hard, race easy which I think it is fair to say I’ve covered. Secondly, the best way to get race fit is to race. Most people find it easier to push themselves with a number on their back, and in doing so get fitter. My advice to most people with a basic level of fitness is to enter a race. Enjoy it. Try and learn some racecraft. Have realistic goals (you are unlikely to win first time out). And then do it again. Have fun, and good luck.

Flat tyre at the Finsbury Park road race 9th Oct 2011

Punctures, the bane of all cyclists. There is little that is less pleasant than crouching at the side of the road in the freezing cold and driving rain, attempting to get a tyre off with numb hands. In a race the situation is slightly different. If there is a neutral service then you can get a spare wheel and attempt to rejoin the race. If not then it is a long walk back to the HQ. The Finsbury Park Road Race at the weekend was a race of many punctures. I know of at least 6 people who were unlucky, only one of whom got back in the bunch, with yours truly being one of those with an expensive tub to replace.

The race was held over the Whitwell circuit in Herts. The circuit is about 10 miles round, with the finish is at the top of a 3-stepped climb - perhaps 8% maximum gradient, but it goes on a bit. There is a bit of a descent, and then a long run down the main road (which was into a headwind), followed by a 2 mile drag up the back of the course (cross to head wind), with a fast descent to the bottom of the finishing climb. The race was 2/3/4 and over 6 laps. Given it was the last race of the year there was a full field, and I was only a reserve. The best 2nd cats in the region were riding - particularly Adam Coterill and Flavio Zappi both of whom are actually first cats, and Richard Prebble ex UK National Time Trial champion - so it was likely to be a tough race. 

As it turned out it was a bit of a war of attrition. Adam Cotterell resplendent in WindyMilla pink attacked all race. He ensured he didn't miss the winning break by simply being in every single thing that went up the road, the first attack coming in about the first 3 miles! He was super strong, very aggressive and deserved his eventual win.

The first lap was reasonably quick, and the course was slippery in places after the downpour overnight - I'm slightly surprised no one crashed. On the second lap someone got the hammer down up the long climb. He didn’t attack, just rode threshold so the bunch was strung out in single file and I suspect a lot of people got dropped. I felt ok and was never in any great difficulty. There were various attacks thereafter, and the pace remained reasonably hard for the next couple of laps. Breaks went up the road - including one that got out to a minute and a half - but all were caught and none looked terribly threatening.

With two laps to go Adam Cotterell attacked for the umpteenth time with another guy. They got perhaps 40-50 seconds, with a chasing group of six looking to join them on the long climb at the back of the circuit. All of a sudden the complexion of the race changed. The bunch was perhaps only 30 odd strong at this stage (from 60 odd starters) so a break of 8 was dangerous. My legs felt pretty good at this stage, and I resolved to use the penultimate ascent of the finishing climb as a springboard to try and get across to them. I figured the best way to do this was to ride hard on the first two steps, and then to really rip it up the third step and push on over the top. Another guy attacked on the bottom of the climb and was a little way up the road. I rode on the front of the bunch at 95% up the first two steps and then rode hard up the last one. I got the gap on the bunch and really pushed on over the top. I looked back and there was no one there. I quickly caught the guy who had attacked at the bottom of the climb, and shouted at him to get my wheel. The gap was probably 25-30 seconds to the break, and 15 seconds to the bunch. 

Over the top of the climb there was a descent, with a left hander under the trees, and then a mile straight to a dead turn. Everyone had been taking that turn very gingerly so I reckoned I could easily get 5 seconds back there. I almost lost the back end on the descent but just managed to hold it all together. The guy I had caught did two turns and then couldn't hold the wheel so I was left on my own. I pushed on hard, conscious that I had to turn into the headwind soon. I hit the main road with maybe a ten second gap to the break. I was conscious that someone was on my wheel but didn't really have the energy to look over. I signalled for him to come through, and he attacked me!! Turns out it was Flavio Zappi. Flavio is an ex Italian pro who wore the young riders jersey in the Giro some years ago. Real class. He doesn't give you anything, and is very aggressive. His jump caught me by surprise. Combined with the fact that I was at my limit meant I couldn't go with him, but what he did do was to give me a psychological bridge to the break. I then had a couple of those desperately unpleasant minutes that define racing. I was riding over my limit, so if I did not make the junction quickly I was probably sunk. The group were just starting to work together again which made it more difficult, but on one of the rises in the road I made it. Phew! 

That made 10 of us and we pushed on hard along the main road. It felt as if the group was too big, and it seemed to me that someone would try and split it. That is exactly what happened towards the top of the big drag at the back of the circuit. My legs had been feeling it a little bit at the bottom of the climb, and then Adam Cotterell attacked hard with Flavio Zappi on his wheel. It was clear to me that this was a break not to be missed and I scratched my way to the wheel of one of the other guys and we bridged first to one other chap, and then to the two leaders over the top. The descent was super fast and the 5 were working well. I'm not entirely clear how we got caught but we did. I'm not sure if everyone was still in the group, but as it reformed Adam Cotterell attacked again taking one other with him. The timing was perfect. There was about 2 miles to go to the finish and everyone in the group looked at each other, as the two rode away in what proved to be the race winning move. 

It was apparent that it would be decided by a charge up the finishing climb, and as we hit the bottom the pace was hard but no one wanted to be the first to go. I was riding about 3rd/4th wheel on the outside of the bunch so there was no chance of getting boxed. On the second of the three steps Flavio Zappi attacked on the left of the road. Now I had a decision to make (and I'm still not convinced I made the right choice). I could try and get his wheel in the knowledge that if I fail to do so, I'm probably going to end up getting spat out the back of the group, or I wait for the 3rd step in the knowledge that I think I've got the beating of everyone else in the break. They say fortune favours the brave, so I decided (coward I am) to wait!

As we came over the top of the 2nd step I saw that the front two had split. The second guy looked like he had blown so I reckoned he could be beaten. Flavio was maybe 7-10 seconds up the road. As we hit the bottom of the third step I took a couple of deep breaths and launched on the right hand side. Almost immediately I knew that no one was going to get on terms and I set about reeling in the guy from the front two. I caught and passed him with about 100m to go and thought I had a half a chance of catching Flavio for 2nd when I heard the noise that no racing cyclist wants to hear. Tsssssssssssssssssssst, tst, tst, tst, tst, tst, tst, tst, tst.... I'd punctured. I had probably 50m left and just kept powering on. I could feel my rear wheel going down but thank goodness it held out. I could hear my little girl shouting as I crossed the line in 3rd place* now riding on my uber-expensive carbon rim.

So my season ends. On returning to racing after 20 years my goals for this year were to enjoy my racing, and to get my 3rd cat licence. As it turns out I got my 2nd Cat licence, amassed 84 pts, rode and finished 2 E/1/2/3 races, won once, was second three times, and am probably riding at upper 2nd cat standard. The question now becomes what to aim for in 2012?

* Flavio Zappi was subsequently disqualified for crossing the white line in the middle of the road. Commissaries are red hot on this at the moment, and almost all the rider briefing at the start was along the lines of "cross the solid white line and you will get disqualified". It seemed harsh to me, but the record books will record me as having placed 2nd.

First across the line - Maldon & District Road Race 2nd Oct 2011

The rule in cycling is much like that in any other sports. The first rider across the line wins. More accurately, and for practical purposes, the first part of a rider’s bike across the line wins. One thing that is more particular to cycling is the victory celebration. Traditional the jersey is zipped up to maximise the sponsors exposure, and ensure you look smart on the finishing photo, with the classic two arms aloft. These two elements were to become particularly relevant at the end of the 2011 Maldon and District Road Race.


The weather yesterday was balmy, with the race run under clear blue skies, little wind, blazing sunshine, with the temperature hitting the mid to high 20s by the finish. Although only on the reserve list I was fairly sure of getting a ride, and signed on as no 61. With typical thoroughness, my preparation had been painstaking. What I should have done after signing-on was recce the finish, which was off the main circuit. What I did do was kill time reading a book, and still missed the pre-start briefing warming up.


The race was short (even by 3rd/4th cat standards) at 45 miles, run over 11 mile loops. The circuit was flat and largely exposed to what little wind that there was, and the race average was almost 26 mph (which is quick for a 3rd/4th cat race). There were a couple of moderately technical sections, one particularly gravelly corner which claimed one victim, and the “climb” was in reality nothing of the sort but still put a lot of riders in trouble. I knew I had a good chance of winning, but there are many unknowns in bike racing – not all of which are controllable.


It never ceases to amaze me that people can’t use the gears on their bike. It is simple to understand that you have 20 gears, with each one being progressively easier (or harder) than the preceding one. It is rare that you need to dump 3 or 4 gears immediately if you read the road yet on the first lap we hit the bottom of the climb and all of a sudden there’s a mad dash of slipping gears, people locking their legs up, and weaving all over the road.; really quite unnecessary. Of much greater danger than getting dropped was getting knocked off by someone who decided to stop on the short 8-10% “click”.


A break of two riders went away on the climb on the second lap and seemed to be working well together. We didn’t get any time cheques in the bunch but I would guess the gap was about 40 seconds, and probably went out to near a minute at one point. As we came to the end of the 3rd lap I thought the break might stay away, but I managed to get a sort of a chase together, and the break seemed to capitulate within 6 miles or so. Odd, as they had appeared to be riding strongly.


Having felt rubbish for the first couple of laps, I started to feel better, and fancied my chances more and more. My biggest concern was that there was a big bunch still together, and the course was not really suited to driving a break away. I also didn’t know what the finish looked like, but chatting to a few people in the bunch I gathered it was between 1 km and 1 mile from the turn off the main road, and the climb was “awful”. So everything pointed to sitting tight and waiting for the selection on the final climb.


There was one guy who had done a lot of attacking. I knew from the neutral zone (when I was riding next to him) that he was Belgian, but I failed to put two and two together to recognise that he was the only 2nd Cat in the race, having recently been made up. With about 5 miles to go he finally managed to get a gap. The bunch typically sits up and relaxes with a few miles to go as nobody wants to commit ahead of the sprint, and he took advantage of this. The bunch seemed very nervous and there was a lot of jostling for positions along the main road, ahead of the finish. With about a mile to go to the turn a big blue and white train came down the outside of the bunch with 3 or 4 riders in it. They’d sensibly put their big guy on the front and he drilled it to the bottom turn. I used the dynamic this created to move up and hit the turn in perhaps 8th place. Shortly afterwards I could see the climb which was one of those which looked impossibly steep from a distance– although in reality I suspect it was 10-12% sort of steepness. We could see the Belgian chap up the road doing a bit of weaving which just made the climb look steeper than it turned out to be.


I had learned that the finish was someway over the top – probably 600-800m as it turned out – and so I didn’t want to attack too early and have everyone sit on you. Similarly the climb was difficult enough that a lot of people were going to die, so I didn’t want to get stuck behind a slowing wheel. The best place in such circumstances is to be near the front and in the right hand gutter – and that’s exactly where I ended up. I got a bit lucky when the guy in front slipped his gears and I was able to nip round him. I certainly didn’t attack on the climb but followed a couple of wheels over the top and found myself on the back of a group of three, There was one more up the road, another guy in front of him, and then the Belgian who seemed to have got his second wind and was pushing on alone for victory.


As the gradient flattened we really needed to drive on and I did. We – as it turns out me as the other two got dropped – caught the guy in 3rd place within 100m or so, and he was pushing hard. Now I have a choice to make – attack him, or sit on him? I still didn’t know where the finish was, and couldn’t see the flag. The Belgian had about a 60m lead with the other chap in the middle, then the two of us – so I decided to sit on his wheel. He was pushing on reasonably well, and I had little doubt I could beat him in the sprint, as I was only at 90-95% at this stage. We were also catching the guy in 2nd place, so 2nd looked a decent shout.


The guy whose wheel I was on then looked over for help. Well that was the last thing he was going to get, and I jumped him hard on the right hand side of the road with perhaps 400m left to go. I caught and jumped the guy in 2nd pretty quickly, but it felt as I’d left it too late to win. The Belgian guy was riding well, and pushing a pretty big gear – which is not normally a sign of someone with no legs left. I just stuck my head down and drove on as hard as I could. I know I was catching him, and then I caught sight of him going for his zip. He was trying to zip his jersey up and if I had anything left I emptied it. I vaguely recall him starting to sit up and raise his arm as I charged on. My legs felt strong but I was well into oxygen debt, and my lungs felt like they would burst. It is at this point when it comes down to will power. The line is only a few metres away and there is plenty of time for breathing after that.


The line is coming up fast and I’m gaining. I know it’s going to be close. Sprinting for signs as a teenager helped to hone my lunge. A lunge is when you push the bike as far forward as you can to gain vital inches. And lunge I did. And that was it. I guess the sprint was at 30-35 mph (given the hill) so you roll on quite a lot after you stop pedalling. At this stage I didn’t know if I had won, or not. I was involved in a similarly close finish as a junior against a certain Roger Hammond (QED). On that occasion I knew I was second, despite the home support believing I had won. This time my gut feel was that I had won. I turned to ask the Belgian what he thought but there was no sign of him. It transpired that he had immediately turned and ridden to the finish to catch a train to Brussels.


I rolled back to the finish and asked the finish judge who had won. He told me the Belgian. Luckily there was both video of the finish, and a stills camera right on the line so I went to talk to the photographer. His view was that it was too close, and he went to look at the photos. Thankfully he had got a photo bang on the line.

I think you’ll agree it was very close, but clear who won. My first victory of the year after a brace of second places, and a fitting end to a fantastic season where I over achieved against all my objecties and now have a shiny Second Category racing licence to show for it.


Here’s some more shots from the finish as it unfolded. The angle makes me look a lot closer than I was.

My first E/1/2/3 Stockbridge Road Race 25th September 2011

As I arrived my first thought was "what a pretty village to have one's asre handed to oneself". I tend not to bother looking round everyone else at races, just get on with my own routine. Arrive. Sign on. Sort bike out. Pin number on. Get changed. Go for a short warm up. Get to start line, and make sure I'm in the middle/front somewhere. However, it was impossible to avoid the varying team cars, and riders in matching kit on their sponsor provided bikes. There was some seriously nice kit on display. But difficult not to feel a little intimidated. The guy in the car next to me told me how he had got dropped on the first lap last year, up the mile long 9% hill out of Stocksbridge. Just what I wanted to hear as the course had looked "rolling" to me from the profile.

Anyway I rolled down to the start and got chatting to Richard Prebble from Motorpoint. He's a Northern lad (former national time trial champion and one of the top UK pros for a number of years) and rode for Pinarello for a number of years, so has loads of Pinas. He was quite interested in my black on black (he had a white Dogma) as he also had a Prince, although he reckoned the Dogma was a lot better. Thanks, that helps my budget, but didn't help him either as he did not finish.

So the race rolled out with a very sedate neutral and was neutralised all the way up the first climb. They kept it really slow which just made the climb go past slower and feel even longer. It probably was a mile long so was something like a 3 1/2 min effort at race pace I would guess. The flag went down over the top, and the bunch was doing 34 mph in about 15 seconds.Nice. The course was up and down all the way. After that descent was another mile long drag, followed by another descent and another long climb - probably a mile and a half but not a steep as the main climb. We then turn onto the main road which was dead straight with several 6/7% drags on it and into a nasty headwind. The descent back into Stocksbridge was a couple of miles long, but main road and super fast - my max was 53.8 mph. So all in all a nasty circuit, but one that I was better suited to than others I think.

The first lap was all together. The main road was very quick and hard and it was really quick into the bottom of the climb. The bunch was lined out doing 40mph - it felt like what Paris Roubaix must fell like into the Arenburg. So we hit the bottom of the climb hard, and then it just got harder as someone got the hammer down at the front. The bunch just smashed to bits, and out of the wreckage a group of seven formed. I got clipped off the back a couple of times. I was right on the limit but actually felt ok, and got a couple of good wheels over the top and the bunch reformed. The remainder of that lap was pretty hard too as people constantly attacked from the bunch who had missed the move - and presumably knew the calibre of the guys who had made it. Next time up the climb I made sure I was nearer the front. There were a number of attacks, but I rode reasonably comfortably near the front and was never in danger of getting dropped. 

The next few laps everything settled down a bit. It was hard but steady ish, and I rode near the front most of the time. The thing about being in a race is that you don't know who most people were. As it turned out there were three elites in our group, and as the race progressed and thinned out it became apparent who the strong guys were who were constantly attacking and getting brought back. Various groups would go up the road and stay there for half a lap but eventually it all came back together. I was feeling better each time up the climb, and dishing out some pain on the 3rd and 4th ascents whilst still trying to leave something in the tank for the last lap (the finish was at the top of the climb)

I had discovered that the main bunch had been whittled down to 11 riders which came as something of a shock! As it turns out there were 4 groups up the road in total by now so it really was a bit of a war. I tried to get away a couple of times on the last lap, but then just started to bonk, and my legs went with about 5 miles to go. It wasn't bad but with the finishing climb it was enough. For the first time in my life I actually needed a gel - I may have to address this in the future. I would like to see my heart rate data for last time up as I suspect I didn't get beyond about 185bpm which is a long way short of flat out, and would explain why I didn't win the "sprint". I was the strongest - or close to strongest - up the climb and yet came in 5th/6th in the "bunch". Slightly frustrating but that's life.

Here is the only photo I can find taken on the climb

 
These are the BC points of those up the sharp end:
Winner 368 pts
Second 458 pts
Third 568 pts
Fourth 956 pts (ranked 9th in the country)
Fifth 332 pts
Etc 
 
On reflection I am still delighted to get round. The race was self evidently very difficult, and some real stars did not finish (about 25-30 did in total). It showed me that the 1st cat and Elite boys are better and stronger, but not unbeatable. They were unbeatable by me, on that course, on that day, but not so far out of reach as to be unattainable. My whole body feels like it has been in a fight as I write. I was pretty tired last night, and my legs are pretty sore this morning. Mistakes? I rode too near the back early on, and too near the front late on. I did too much work in the last couple of laps. Attacking was probably a bit daft too. Not being fuelled correctly is careless. 

In some respects it would be nice to end the season on that race, as I have come a long way this year. I have over achieved against the goals I set myself. I am stronger than I was as a junior, and can still pack a decent sprint. I am turning into a pretty good climber too. When you put that together you have someone who has the potential to be a decent bike rider. Yesterday shows me that there is no reason why I can't attain my 1st cat licence next year if everything goes well. That is one of my objectives now I think, along with riding a sub hr 25. It would be nice to crack 50 minutes up ADH too but we'll see. I need to go into next year with a decent winter behind me, and well rested. It feels like everything is to play for. If I can have a solid year in 2012 then who knows what lies beyond. I would love to ride a Premier Calendar race, and to be competitive on a national scale. There's some way to go to get there, but I think it is attainable given time. That's not something I thought at the beginning of this year and is perhaps the best reward for my hard work this year.

Bottrill power at the Derby Mercury RR - 18th September

So of the people who finished in front of me this weekend we had: 

*        The 3rd best TT rider in the country - he rode 47-32 for 25  

miles a couple of weeks ago. Do the maths! 

http://www.cyclingweekly.co.uk/news/latest/529939/matt-bottrill-famous-last-words.html 

*        A guy who was second in the National Masters last month 

*        The guy who won the bunch sprint by 5 lengths in the 2/3/4 race I did about 6 weeks ago 

*        A guy who has previously ridden the Giro D'Italia and finished 12th in Milan - San Remo !! 

So interesting competition to say the least.... 

My take on the race is not really so interesting as I largely kept my head down in the bunch. So in contrast to a couple of weeks ago when I did a lot of the pulling, and was in and out of the action, today  was more about keeping out of trouble and seeing how it panned out. 

The race was over 13 laps of a mainly flat circuit, with one small climb. It was a headwind on the main road section out back, a cross wind for the finish and a tail wind up the hill. It was super fast from the off. First 5 miles covered at an average of 27.6 mph, with a break of 9 men going in the first 3 miles. The gap went out to about 30-40 seconds quite quickly. 

It looked to me like there were lots of strong guys in the break and I wondered if it was going to stick. Then the break stopped going away, and their future looked less assured. They stayed out front for about 35 miles in total, with Matt Bottrill attacking the break just before it was caught. He then just TT'd away from everyone (although people weren't really riding a lot of the time) and won by 2 1/2 minutes - amazing strength. 

So there were various attacks that came and went. It was noticeable the number of strong riders there were, and I yoyo'd in the middle third of the bunch. Truth is I didn't feel great, but seemed to be riding ok, and was never in any danger of being dropped - although I was in grave danger of missing the key move. There was the constant fighting to move up the bunch. If you relaxed for a couple of minutes you'd lose 10-15 places, which made life tough as there were some technical corners before the bottom of the climb which you lose tons of time in if you are not near the front. I was consistently making 10-15 places on the climb without really giving it full gas - bear in mind it was a big ring job at 23-34mph so it was unlikely to shatter the bunch as people would always be able to chase back on. Interestingly, despite the race being over 27mph average, my ave heart rate was 160bpm. In training I'll often be well into the 160s and last time up Alpe D’Huez was 173bpm so there's something still in the tank. 

There was a nasty crash with about 3 laps to go when a guy went head first into a hawthorn bush at about 30mph. Came up screaming like a girl with claret everywhere. It was a on a straight-ish bit of road. It didn't narrow. There wasn't a big ease in the bunch. The road surface was ok. And the guy veered from far left to far right and ended up in the hedge on the right hand side with a face full of hawthorn. He came up screaming like a bairn, and the other guy who went down was looking at him clearly thinking "oh just MTFU". Anyway, it turns out he pulled his foot out of the pedal for no real good reason, and that was him done. Few scratches and gashes but nothing life threatening. 

I managed to pop off the front on the climb with about 6 others with 3 laps to go, but no one really wanted to commit so that didn't last  long. The psychology of the race is quite interesting. In my own mind I was racing at a level above my standard - compare to a 3/4 race where I'd have been dictating on the climb, chasing and attacking. Yet the evidence was that I was amongst the better riders there, and was riding pretty strongly without getting into any real difficultly. I was lacking a bit of top end as I had been suffering from this cold all week, and I think that was also in the back of my mind. So with two to go there was another split over the top. I was probably in a position to make it to the break but would have had to have gone very hard over the top, and decided to hang back. In retrospect this was an error of under-confidence, as this turned out to be the key split. The break went out to 15-20 seconds quite quickly and no-one wanted to chase. I put in a couple of pulls but was also reluctant to commit too much to it. So the break drifted away and we never caught them. 

My plan for the finish was to move up on the climb into the top 10-12 then ride assertively to hold that sort of position without getting dragged to the front. There was about 4 miles to go from the climb, of which the first one was a pretty easy downhill / false downhill flat. Fast but not too difficult to hold position. I had scoped the finish over the last umpteen laps so knew it was slightly uphill and people might die a bit. Not one to go for a long one on anyway. Obviously I have no team mates so I needed a good wheel for the sprint. There were two that I had identified over the race. One was a Planet-X guy who I'd overheard talking to Matt Bottrill at the start (and obviously knew him). He said he'd been riding the track all year so I figured he'd be quick. The other was a guy also riding on his own from a Wolverhampton club. He was riding Zipp 808s and had ridden strongly all race. He was a big fellow and riding those wheels I figured he would have a decent kick, and it was his wheel I managed to pick up. He came down the outside with just under 2 miles to go, which reinforced my impression that he fancied it. I managed to push my way onto his wheel, and then hoped he wouldn't do anything daft like go for a long one as I'd then be a bit snookered. So the last mile was over a railway bridge which everyone over geared for as they had every lap (so easy to pick up a few places), a sweeping left hander and a fast downhill bit. Then through a gentle S-bend and then a good 300m straight slightly up hill to the line. 

Mr 808 obviously knew what he was doing although he was taking a bit too much wind for my liking. Suited me fine, as I was tucked up on his wheel in a nice position. The downhill bit made it quick enough that everyone was dissuaded from any long distance heroics, and in any case I was pretty much committed to waiting and using his wheel. We were riding just to the right of the white line, on the right hand side of the road as we hit the finish straight. It was almost echeloned out from left to right with perhaps 5 people to the left - and in front - of me. Then someone jumps on my right. So now I've got to commit (as it turns out I reckon his timing was bang on, mine slightly wrong - but we're talking 5-10 metres difference). So I kicked hard and tried to grab his wheel, as did my erstwhile lead out man. I got squeezed right into the right hand gutter a bit but no where to go but forward so I got my head down. The guy in red on the far left must have gone too and he won the sprint. I never got on terms with the guy who jumped on the right, and was baulked by one of the lead bikes slowing down before the line! I was certainly quicker than him, but his jump and the motorbike meant I never got on terms. Not sure if I could have beaten the guy in the red but we were almost in two different races at that point. 

On reflection I went too late. Not just because I got jumped, but because my legs were better than I thought. I was still accelerating when I hit the line and could probably have taken another gear. When you hit the line in a sprint ideally your legs should be screaming, and your gear spun out- so c125-140rpm. My gear was done, but my legs  were almost perfect. I had another 30m in me, and another 2mph at least I reckon and that would certainly have got me second and maybe more. I guess my recent inexperience in that situation caught me out a little. So the last couple of weeks I have concluded the following: 

1) I can still sprint. I am very competitive at 2/3/4 level, and can win at 3/4 level. 

2) I left something on the road in previous races i.e. I could have been quicker and got better placings. Frustrating, but that's life. 

3) I need to be bolder - you have to be prepared to lose to be able to win 

4) I am currently riding at (at least average) 2nd cat level. 

5) Next week (Stockbridge) will be tough racing. Lot of juniors riding - incl at least a couple of 1st cat juniors and they tend to be aggressive. 

6) I am strong on the climbs. Earlier this year I was hanging on in 2/3/4 races on the climbs. Now I am moving up the bunch and not in difficulty. In 3/4 races I can get off the front relatively easily. 

7) I am stronger on the flat than I think - I seem to be able to find another level of performance with a number on my back. 

8) My interval training and race programme has paid dividends. The ability to go full gas for one minute or more and repeat soon after is crucial to success. 

9) I can imagine getting my points next weekend if I have a decent race. 

If you'd said to me I'd be even imagining holding on to a E/1/2/3 road race at the beginning of the season I wouldn't have believed it - let alone looking for points.