Back on the bike......after some jogging about!

Riding a bike and a bleak midwinter are not natural bedfellows.

I rode yesterday for the first time in about a month perhaps, with numb fingers, a cold face, and toes that tingled as the bitter breeze somehow permeated neoprene overshoes, shoes and socks to leave the skin bright pink when I eventually took everything off at the end.

I should be bike training more – but the ride I want to do is so far off, the weather so uninviting, and besides no-one else I know is out on a bike regularly at this point in the year. Everyone is running, and so I’ve been running. I love to do things as a group – I love a team outing – which is how I came to be running 50km last weekend across the Hampshire hills.

I do in theory like running. I pretend I don’t, but it’s not completely true.

I like being out. I like the exertion, and I like it when it feels OK and not too much like hard work. I can vaguely do it, although I often make out that I can’t!  I did even get to do an old route in the lead up to the 50km, along the river in Frankfurt whilst building up a couple of weeks ago at Ambiente. Brought back a lot of memories, as I used to spend a week of each year on a big stand there, always going for at least one little trot whilst I was there. I was back for a different client for the first time since the pandemic and I really enjoyed that.

The city of Frankfurt in the background - and a lovely day on the river! :-)

So I CAN enjoy a run, I think its more that running doesn’t like me – and physically I’m not really built for it. With scrawny legs and arse, but a top half that is where any weight goes when I do put it on (normally in the winter – when running is most popular) – I’m 6’ 2’’ tall, and not light footed in the least. A lot of my friends are little, they run through the woods for example, and unless they call back – I run into overhanging branches, trip on rabbit holes, and just generally lumber about behind them muttering disconsolately under my breath.  

Not only that but years of football have left me with bad ankles, that have been much worse recently due to ligament issues. It means every step is fraught with danger, with one ankle that wants to roll all the time (I work really hard to strengthen it, but I’m not convinced the raw material is in there any more to work with). The other foot meanwhile has peroneal tendonitis – which I manage – but can’t completely banish into obscurity, probably because it’d need two years of rest – and even riding a bike aggravates it.

Anyway – 50km – and I framed it as a ‘long day out’, that distance isn’t a ‘run’ per se. Well not for me. It was hilly and I knew I’d walk quite a bit. In the end I ran with two of my fellow clubmates, Claire and Clare. We ran most of the first 25km I’d say which was a good effort. I wanted to actually run that first half a bit slower than we did, just a touch…..I like to get as far as I can feeling like I’ve not tried to run at all, and it was just over that kind of effort.

Claire had only trained up to 21km, and had never done a marathon, so wasn’t sure what to expect, and I had a feeling the second half would be easier as we slowed, and I was fine with that! Her trainers caused her a lot of angst – she had Salomons on, which I can’t wear as they are too narrow, and she had a lot of pain in her toes especially on the downhills.

That Claire was struggling on the downhills suited me absolutely fine, I mean I’d have preferred she wasn’t in pain, but whilst t’other Clare skipped down them off into the distance, my being terrified of my footing, and going over on the uneven terrain, with a lot of stony chalky ground that would camber from left to right and back again – meant I was descending with a grimace and clench of the teeth trying (and failing) to staunch a flow of profanities and squeals making their way from thoughts in the brain to being verbalised by mouth. Claire being behind me and laughing at my obvious discomfort, meant I wasn’t holding anyone up.  

Hibernals 50km - with Claire (left) and the metronomic Clare (right)

Well, eventually – we made it. 8 odd hours of running, or ‘moving forward’ lets call it – and almost two hours of eating, resting and dawdling. Which was fine by me, I ate so many peanut butter sandwiches at the rest stops. I found out later – lots of my club mates grabbed a coffee and carried on moving. Not us, we had a picnic when we could!

We were passed en route by some athletes doing the 50 mile version – only those at the front of that particular field, and man were they shifting, down steep descents and up hills like they weren’t there. All lean, and looking very professional. I was doing a different event in my head!

The thing is, that running does not help you AT ALL on a bike. Riding a bike has beneficial training effects for a runner, the cross training element, adds to leg strength, and so on. Sure, if you run you’ll keep fit, and you can maintain a good engine – but it gives you no power – perhaps it even strips power. Yesterday felt like it had. I had nothing.

All we did was spin to Faversham for coffee, 50 odd km, but little inclines that weren’t hills felt like climbs, with me reaching for power in my quads that just was not there. Not sure I have any quads currently! This left me focusing on pedalling technique and quick cadence up any little hillocks, and then I was blowing out of my backside. Cor blimey. Felt like a  beginner! The thought of riding 100 miles, or going up even one of the decent climbs on the south downs – is a bit frightening. Still it is the start of a process, and it’s probably like this every year, but I’ve never started a year with less riding that’s for sure.

So yesterday was a first step. Maybe. It’s certainly whetted my appetite. I need to get back in the routine. When not in the routine it feels so hard just to get the bike and me ready to go. I forgot a pump (luckily I didn’t puncture) – and didn’t wear gloves nearly good enough to keep the cold out – which left me feeling cold all day. I never quite got rid of the shivers coursing through me, despite a warm shower and an afternoon in front of the fire.

Come on world – warm up a bit. I’ve a ride to train for!