100 miler in the bag....

So a good couple of weeks of training ; the first where I rode 4 times perhaps, squeezing in some fast stuff at Cyclopark with my club on a Wednesday night. A turbo session with the garden room doors open in the sunshine. An easy evening spin. A longer ride on the Sunday. Just tweaking the distance up to +200k in a week - which is OK considering how busy work is.

Actually I even raced a Triathlon last Sunday - but get this for discipline knowing the challenge I had coming up. I knew I needed miles in my legs - but my clubmates were racing, and I wanted to be there with them - part of the team baby! So at 5am I left home to ride to sevenoaks with my tri kit in a bag on my back. 50km - using busier roads because I knew there would be no cars - for a straight two hours - did the event where I rode the bike like I was out for a Sunday ride - not in the midst of a race (and stopped to help someone ; I am literally the last person you want to have stop if you have a mechanical and need help - but what I can do is lie convincingly about the distance and any hills left and tell you to get on with it and pedal lol) - and then rode back. I was sooo chilled I even did the swim like a warm up before a swim set, had a chat with the marshall, and walked out of the pool area. When I saw the timing mat I remembered the time would be the point at which I crossed that, including the talking, resting on the walls, 50m stroll, and thought 'oh dear, that's not going to be good!'

It really was a fab club morning though, with lots of smiles and high fives during the race (we were all out on the run course together mostly) - and not even an uber hilly ride back in super sweaty garms I had to put back on could ruin the mood.

Last week, there was just the cyclopark session (due to a few evenings working late) where I nearly killed myself chasing the leaders - bloody superman Beaney - in a particular set just to get on their wheel - and then had to work near my max to stay there. I actually screamed with the effort - with legs and lungs burning. I could never work myself like that when running or swimming ; but on a bike I have it in me. Weird!

Then on Sunday I exploited the fact my wife was in Spain with her friends. The factory was shut, and work could be put to one side. I didn't have to be back at a particular time, no pressure, no cares in the world - so scheduled a 100 mile round trip to Deal, which would be a bit more than that with riding to the start, and back home after the finish.

Turning up at the meet point, I couldn't believe there were so many of us. 10 or 11 - which is both good and bad. Good because the numbers make for lots of conversation, and wheels to hide amongst should you need it. Lots of banter and smiles. Bad, because it's hard to keep a lot of people together. Hills, long fast sections, toilet breaks, needing to eat, punctures, lots of things can break the group up. There were also someone doing their first 100 miler, and there was someone I didn't know - which can be a worry. When I've put a certain ride out there, I loosely view myself as leading it, so feel a degree of responsibility for anyone if they get in trouble.

So the brief was simple - hope for the sun to peek through (it did a few times), and ride conservatively - comfortably - so no-one felt they were going too deep especially on the way out. On a long run, or ride, I always think the trick is to get to half way (85km in this instance - which is just before the cafe stop on Deal seafront) feeling like you are fresh and haven't done much.

I've read a few Geraint Thomas (INEOS/Team Sky, ex Tour de France winner and GB Olympian) books, and he talks about matches. You only have so many in your box, and you don't want to burn any early. Every effort up a climb, every sprint, every bit of getting carried away and pushing hard costs you a match. Digs into your energy reserves - and you have a choice, fuel and eat well, and in time enough for the calories in to turn into extra useable energy on the ride, or have your legs die later on.

So I was chilling and taking all climbs easy. The very first one actually everyone overtook me, and I thought 'uh-oh, at what cost'. One of our debutants at the distance, Darren, I was well impressed that despite being strong, he didn't go past, and was chilling. very sensible I thought :-), he's got this and will be there at the end. The rider I didn't know, Rachel, I was really worried for. She was training for some long REALLY hilly ride, and unbeknownst to me had been doing loads of hill climbing. But she was out of the saddle in a high gear on every climb for the majority of each. The power that takes, the cost of it, as the quads are big muscles, that eat oxygen and thus energy (I just sit and spin faster in a low gear - which is what works for me) - over 100 miles I did think. 'She's going to struggle later'. Spoiler....she didn't at all. Sooo strong. A welcome unexpected surprise - because I haven't seen anyone climb like that - out of the saddle for so long.

I got carried away just once - we had the wind all the way with us to Deal - and there is a long drop and flat seafront bit through Seasalter, where one guy (Andy) who has huge power pushed harder, and I thought 'I'm getting that wheel', which I did. Then the adrenaline kicked in. All I could hear were the hum of my rims catching the wind and rubber on tarmac - just got in a bit of rhythm and pushed and pushed. It's lovely when you get in that zone of legs and machine and the road - that's all there is in the world. Here. Now. By the end of the straight there was me and Leigh on his TT bike, and Crusty suddenly appeared from nowhere too.

Then some lovely roads, beautiful villages and houses through Grove and into Sandwich - through my favourite bit - Sandwich Golf Course and into Deal for a stop. There on the seafront it was a fish finger sandwich, lemon cake, coffee, coke, and a bottle of coke topped up with water. Lots of calories, for what was going to be a testing ride back and this time into the wind.

Coming back - actually the wind wasn't too bad - lots of the ride back was between trees, hedges, and with little climbs to protect and shield us. I was actually super impressed with myself on the ride home. I haven't done that much riding, just the ONE single good week of training the week before, and I was riding with some really strong people.

I actually think I'm pretty useless at Triathlon as a sport. I give it the 'I just do it for fun', 'I can't try too hard because of my heart and have to be sensible' - which is all true. But it's bollocks to say there isn't a little piece of me that dies inside when I'm useless at a race, or clubmates pass me like I'm not there - and my results are always middling and distinctly average. I have club mates that qualify for GB, and podium at races, achieve highly in their age groups. I am relatively nowhere when it comes to all that stuff. Don't have it in me. I've long accepted that, but it's not always easy - in my younger years I was renowned for being 'must win' and uber competitive at everything, whether football, or monopoly, or a card game.

I know I train with some really strong people I think are just amazing, so I shouldn't compare, but you just do. It's human nature. So to get home and think 'I was able to lead that ride, for most of 100 miles, pulling people along', and had more to give in lots of places. That distinctly average old me (in relative terms).....I did that. I felt pretty pleased with myself to be honest - that I was never in trouble, one little wobble in the legs where they nearly went going up the Warren (the last hill of the day and was on 170 odd km by then) I'll forgive myself. :-)

Mentally as well - I was always reconciling this ride with the challenge for August. Lots of the days will be about this distance ; and if I approach it like this, with stops, eating and drinking well, not being bothered about pace or time. Then the battle looks like it won't be the individual days - it''ll be the cumulative effort.

I'd been out for a couple of beers the night before this ride (and the night before that - I'm sooo not very anal about alcohol and diet when training), so had 20km to go and get the car. Whilst my arse didn't want to sit on a saddle again, I knew that was going to be a test I needed to pass, because, best will in the world, the hard bit of the charity ride is going to be doing 100+ miles, then getting up the next day and doing it AGAIN and AGAIN!

Anyway - onto the bike and the legs were fine. Actually they wanted to push hard. I felt fresh. I could have done another decent ride if I had to. My bum - not so much. I might be more worried about that, than anything. Who would have thought - the toughness of my back side would be the thing that merited sponsorship - and it soooo will.