Autumn. Leaves have had enough and the weather is noticeably cooler. My training schedule had fallen on hard times, with work travel and daily life, so the thought of a gentle ride out in the Kent countryside with Mr Lowe was appealing. Dullwich Paragon’s ‘Ride of the Falling Leaves‘ was happening and I thought ‘why not?’

We met up with Paul and drove down to Herne hill Velodrome. I’d never been before and it was great to see such a stunning track and buzzing atmosphere.

The Dullwich Paragon lot had made sure the entry was easy enough, and free coffee and breakfast was available at the start, alongside a mechanic to fix any last minute mechanical issues you might have had.Once you decided to start, you had to do a lap of the velodrome and then exited out of the complex and onto the roads. On a personal note, the track was brilliant to ride and really made my morning.

My legs felt a bit crap, just didn’t have the energy in them as I would have liked and thankfully we rode at a social pace to start. A few of Paul’s work friends rode with us and one chap was an old school cafe racer from back in the day. Was pretty cool to see the old fellas riding in front and whizzing all over the place, armed with their stories of yesteryear racing. So back to the riding and all was going peachy until we hit that first hill, I believe many who ride down south know it well, alas I didn’t and excuse me but faaaaakin’ hell, did those legs scream.

Needless to say, I’m not a climber and to be honest, have no intention of ever being one. This frame is not meant for lugging itself up hills, give me flats any day.

Once I’d cried over the fact the hills were making me feel inferior, the rest of the route was rather enjoyable. It’s amazing how much good riding is on tap here in the UK, sure, you don’t have the monster mountains that our cousins on the continent do, but we do make up for it with some stunning scenery.

Paul and I eventually went over the line in 4:05, which wasn’t exactly my fastest time but hey, the ride was enjoyable and for a Sunday morning, what more could you want?

August came and it was time to head over to Hamburg to race in my favourite race of the year: The Vattenfall Classics. Everything about the race is brilliant, from the organisational aspects (hello, ze Germans are in control) to the race route and the scenery. Adrian and I had put in the leg work in the previous months to hammer the 155 kilometer race at a decent pace. No shitty bikes were to be used, thankfully the Colnago was chosen as the tool of choice.

The screw up happened the week before with my usual hectic travel schedule. A quick trip back to South Africa from London that Monday meant I was supposed to land back in London on the Friday, have a day to relax and then fly out from LHR to Hamburg early on the Saturday morning. Alas, South African Airways had other ideas and whilst in the lounge at JNB airport, we were informed that the flight was cancelled and that we would be flying the next morning.

Shit, this meant I’d get into London at 11pm at night and potentially only home at 1am, only to have to pack and get back to the airport by 7am. Talk about worrying, especially when you’d put in some serious  training to get to this point.

After finally making it home, packing and trying to get some sleep, I was at LHR feeling like crap and rather ratty. We landed in Hamburg and made our way to the hotel, which was amazing. Separate rooms and close to the start, you couldn’t ask for a better location. After registering and receiving our GPS tokens, I set about trying to eat as much as possible, as I hadn’t really eaten properly for days. Then, it was an early bed and this was the best part so far. I woke up feeling amazing, literally 11 hours of the most amazing sleep I’ve had in yonks. All was looking good.

The start was as manic as ever, you try and cram a few thousand people in lycra down a normal street and expect it to start smoothly. I had one goal in mind – to ride like I stole it. This approach worked incredibly well, after the first hour I was averaging 40km/h, which was just amazing. The route was great, the bike was performing amazingly and my body felt good. Problem is, the hectic travel, lack of sleep and food finally hit home 25 kilometers from home and I just ran out of steam. A small hill all but destroyed me and my legs were finally saying stop. Not giving in, I pushed as hard as I could towards the end and finished at a decent time

After I finished, I literally had to get off the bike as I felt like I was going to pass out. I’m sure it was the heat but I was knackered (and happy at the same time).

The race had a good technical slant in that they offered and iPhone app that allowed anyone to track your progress in realtime, something the wife found really cool. I love this blend of tech in sports and look forward to seeing more of it.

To sum it up, the Vattenfall is a great race and I’ll be back again next year. Hamburg is a stunning city to ride in.

Decided this birthday would consist of something different. As I’m getting on, gone are the days of excess (christ knows, the teens and the twenties saw enough of that), so what better way to celebrate you are half way to being 70, than a tough ride in December on the Isle of Wight?

Wiggle’s amazing sportive series ended with a ride around the island, one that I’d been dying to see for ages, so everything fell into place. I signed up for the epic (95km) and made a weekend of it with the wife. I was concerned with the weather, being December and Europe, I was expecting it to be ball-shrinking cold. Alas, global warming (yes America, it’s happening) has changed the seasons and the UK is experiencing some rather mild weather for this time of year.

The weather on Saturday, when we arrived, was lovely. A charming 15 degrees and no wind and clear skies. Were the conditions set for a really good race?

Alas, no, waking up at 7am on the Sunday morning was a different scene. Overcast and windy, really windy (32kph). As I climbed out of the car at the start, I muttered the usual “fuck, this is going to hurt” statement I’ve managed to mutter every time wind was involved and this race would prove to be a bitch as I’d expected.

A good crowd turned up, even some santa’s on fixed-gear bikes. I aimed to get out at the front and managed to be about the 30th to leave and first we saw a good climb along the coast. Thing is, the wind was a headwind and it was relentless. At some points, I was doing 6km/h and spinning at 95 cadence, swearing like a coal miner.

The descent wasn’t any better, we took a turn inland and as a result, had the wind blowing to our side. Going downhill at 68km/h and feeling your front wheel go is not a sexual experience, more like squeaky-pants experience and you thinking “this might hurt”.

As I got on, the wind continued and this being an island, there wasn’t much respite from it, especially up the hills. The only saving grace was the feed stations containing the most amazing chocolate logs. Talk about inspiration. Thankfully, it wasn’t only me who was really feeling this. Two rather lean and incredibly quick guys were also struggling, especially on the descents where it became a bit retarded to go fast when you are lean and light.

Eventually the end was near and to be honest, it was welcome. My usual time for such an event was shot, my legs destroyed and my energy levels non-existent. I’d had enough of the Isle of Wight and the wind and she had truly broken me. On my birthday of all days, you cruel relentless bitch Mother Nature.

I came in at 4:07, which meant I was utterly depressed on the drive home and annoyed I’d ridden such a shit time, talk about social pace. However, this morning the mood changed when Wiggle released the overall times:

Overall, a relatively decent time, but still loads of room for improvement.

Rule #5 / Harden The Fuck Up. 

Yup, I took myself aside and gave me a good talking to. All this talk of missing the event due to a cold. Seriously?
Headed out to darkest Surrey to ride in the Wiggle Devils Punch Sportive, the last in their 2011 series. I was riding with Adrian on his rather attractive Team GB Pinarello and we were hoping for a good set of stats from the course.
The weather, albeit rather overcast and cold, was actually enjoyable to ride in. Not too cold, a bonus as this course had a load of climbs.
Bar the required stop to feed on cake and refill the bottles and Adrian’s mechanical at 55km, we turned in a pretty decent time:

I reckon without the stop and mechanicals, I’d have done it under three hours. Overall I felt amazing, the legs just kept on going and I enjoyed the hills. It’s not often you’ll hear me say that but maybe the Saturday runs and weekly turbo trainer sessions are paying off.
The last one for this year will be on my birthday in December, in the Isle of Wight.

When the wife is away, you ride! 

It’s funny how your view on life changes. When I was in my teens and twenties, I used to laugh at those morons out exercising at 6am on a Saturday/Sunday morning. Usually I was just finishing up from a DJ set, or leaving the club in a state many would have laughed at. Now, in my mid-thirties, I’m that guy who wakes up first thing on the weekend and goes out to exercise. I still pass those coming out of clubs and smile, been there and done that!

Saturday mornings ride was with London Phoenix, who i’m really enjoying riding with. It’s a mixed bunch and the pace is always good. It also takes in some amazing roads around Hertford. This morning in particular, was cold. Maybe I’ve spent too long in the Southern Hemisphere, or I’ve lost all that horrible fat, but christ knows I cannot handle the cold weather anymore. I was freezing, shivering like a plonker for a good ten kilometers at first. It became apparent that I needed a winter jacket and gloves, asap.

Sunday I rode the Evans 90 mile Epping Sportive. Waking up early, I headed into the forest to meet up with fellow weirdo’s, who obviously also think that being outside when it’s 2 degrees outside and you are wearing lycra. The route had been mapped out and took in the country lanes around Essex. What’s weird about a sportive is that you aren’t riding in a large group, so it’s almost like a training ride as such.

One stall that did catch my eye was that of the Gore Bike Wear stand. They had a really unique idea of letting you wear any of their kit to see if you enjoyed it and it worked. I chose their latest jacket, handed in my ID and off I went. The jacket performed amazingly. The cut was perfect, with the ability to open up vents and remove the arms when it got warmer. Finally I felt warm.

My usual tactic of finding a fast bunch wasn’t working, so for the best part, I had to pace myself. When arriving at the first drinks station, I saw a group of lean riders and thought “yup, hold on and ride with them”, which worked a treat for a good 40 kilometers until they turned left at the split for the medium/long route.

Eventually it was just me again, in the depths of Essex and getting annoyed as my pace was dropping below 30 km/h. After the 4 hour mark, my energy levels started to drop and I’d run out of gels, this was the hardest part for me, as there was still a good twenty kilometers to go. After missing a few turns (thanks to the fuckers who had removed the signs), I found a fast group and held on. This did the trick and my legs woke up and finally powered me back.

Overall a great ride, tiring but enjoyable. No better way to spend a Sunday morning I reckon. Oh and I did buy the jacket in the end, it served me well and I reckon as the days get colder, I’ll appreciate it even more.

Strava URL’s for those interested:

Saturday
Sunday