Chapter 18 - 40 women on bikes RoadTripParis

THE NEXT ADVENTURE - ooooo La La ! 

Pretty in pink

Whilst preparing for Velothon Wales another epic adventure was put before me. And as I said in my last chapter I've realised I like a challenge.  So whilst 140k cycling up Welsh mountains seemed like a big challenge, it was nothing compared to what was now put before me.  "How would you like to cycle from Utrecht with 40 women from around the world covering 500km over 5 days ? ending up in Paris to watch the womens La Course race, and the chance to meet Marianne Vos?" ......"No" I said "I have a whole heap of ironing piling up in the spare room, I just don't think I have the time" . Actually no I didn't say that I said "Ooooo yes please". Which is funny really because several of the facts contained within this proposition didn't really register properly with me. So lets get the facts straight.....

40 lIKE MINDED WOMEN ? MMMM ? Exhibits A to D

The beginning

1.Exhibit A = Clare 
Firstly the woman who had made the great suggestion to me in the first place. Exhibit A = Clare. Lets look at the facts. She was currently still cycling around the Alps even though she had 2 broken ribs, so quite hardcore. Why would you do that? That would hurt. I stop cycling if I have a broken nail. She's like a weeble. No I'm not saying she's fat. No she's actually really rather bloody gorgeous. But weebles wobble but they don't fall down.  So no matter whether she's skiing, cycling or kite surfing. Broken ribs. Pah.  Dragged across the beach on your head! Pah.  Nothing stops her. Great!. Hardcore. Terrifying. Shit Shit Shit! I had shared a flat with her sister Alison and as more facts about my next adventure unravelled I began to wonder whether this was retribution for some misdemeanour I had done to her sister.  I mean I did get a bit pissed when I was Alisons bridesmaid but I don't think I disgraced myself too much.  OK I did leave the bridal bouquet on the sailing club wall.  But I thought we'd got over that episode. This would teach me once and for all!  OK so not everyone was going to be as hardcore as Clare.  Lets look at Exhibit B

2. Exhibit B = Sandy.
As it turns out Sandy had contacted me previously regarding my column in Outdoor Fitness magazine. And then oh look she knows my cousin Holly who runs Spring Cycle Coaching and Personal Training. And and then ....Oh look Sandy was also doing RoadTripParis. And then Oh look she's outside my window!.  No she wasn't but I'll be honest I was beginning to get a bit nervous about this Sandy person. Was she a stalker? So I contacted my cousin to get the low down.  I wanted reassurance that I was going to be able to keep up.  "Yes" my cousin Holly said she's about your age, she's lovely, you'll like her"...Me "Oh thank goodness I was beginning to think they were all young professional cyclists ha ha ha ha !". I was beginning to feel a bit more reassured but then Holly said "Oh did I tell you she qualified for the Amateur Masters World Champs?". Bloody marvelous. Shit! Shit! Shit!.  Thanks for that Holly, really reassuring!

3. Exhibit C = Strava
Luckily (because I think if I was I would have cancelled) I WASN'T part of the STRAVA group that had been set up before the trip.  I have talked about STRAVA before. Bragging rights, Egos and Big Brother. Obviously there had to be some training done, before such an epic trip. But apparently some of these women were seriously clocking up the KMs before the trip and at great speeds. So I was lucky I hadn't been party to these statistics as it would have added to the terror that was now filling me. Others knew who were the ones to watch.  Me I was under the radar.  Actually more like under the bed scared! Shit! Shit! Shit!

4. Exhibit D = Marianne Voss
OK I admit this hadn't been much of a selling point to me.  Why? because I didn't actually know who she was.  Quick google search. Oh my! and when I name dropped her to those in the know - I suddenly realised the significance. This was a big deal.





Wikipedia definition: Marianne Vos, is a Dutch cyclo-cross, road bicycle racer, mountain bike racer and track racer who has drawn comparison to Eddy Merckx as being "the finest cyclist of [her] generation". 


Oh God how did I find myself in this ridiculous situation ?!! Fuckity! Fuck! Fuck!

PREPARATION ALWAYS BE PREPARED

So I was in a fuckity! fuck! fuck! situation. If in doubt in these situations, throw money at it. I was fit, I was training, but what else did I need? I needed stuff. Expensive stuff.....equipment. Clothing that would make me go faster.  Chamois cream and buckets of it. Lights and lots of spare inner tubes.  And not to be in pain. And I needed to get it just right because I needed to pack light.  I have never packed light in my life, as those that know me well will tell you.  My last trip to Mallorca the guy at check-in asked me if I was emigrating! Oooopps.

Step 1 - The Sports Massacre I mean massage

Hammer Time My Therapist 

Step 1:- the sports massage, I was fit and ready. But I had an annoying pain in my groin (not a euphenism). I figured this would only get worse after 500km on a bike. So I went for a sports massage.  Usually any massages I've had have been accompanied by the sounds of tinkling rivers and pan pipes with the aroma of lavender and rose petals.  Ahhh very relaxing.  Not this one. One glance at my "therapist", and I safely assumed she wasn't married.....well not to a man anyway.  I think the word is butch. And as it turns out this was a very good first impression.  As Fatima pushed my agonised thigh across her bra-less chest, she told me that she was a GB qualifying hammer thrower.  Oh God ! Yep! certainly feels like it.  Owwwwwww! Worse than press ups.

Step 2 - All The Gear No Idea

I needed to be prepared. I needed stuff. New stuff. Cycling sexy stuff.  So I went in search of a cycling jacket. I wasn't going to get wet. I had been recommended  a GABBA jacket. Rather disappointingly there still isn't that much apparel choice for women in non-pink colours so I had to resort to the internet. So I ordered the "practical expensive" jacket, the "designer v.expensive too cool for school understated jacket arriving in tissue paper, a beautiful box and hint of the aroma of arabica coffee beans" jacket, the obvious expensive Rapha jacket and the "cheap practical in non-practical" white jacket.  Detachable arms, non-detachable arms. It was a minefield. Some didn't even seem waterproof.  In the end annoyingly the one I was first recommended was the correct choice The Castelli Gabba jacket. I have to say it has done me proud. Thanks for the recommendation. Think the postman is still wondering what I have been ordering though with "Always Riding" printed on some of the packages he delivered!!! #awkward.

I had more chamois cream than you can ice a cake with.  And enough inner tubes for the whole Sky Team during the Tour De France. I also packed my top of the range Garmin that was going to record every step of the way !!! (Yeah right!) And now to get the bike to Utrecht? Ahh yes the bike box.

Step 3 - Travelling abroad with your bike. Challenges.

There were many challenges along the way, before the cycling even began....

Challenge 1: the logistics of cycling abroad require you to be familiar with the complex workings of a bike so you can dismantle and reassemble it into and out of a bike box.  Oh yes I could dismantle the bike easily enough but would the thing ever be roadworthy again once reassembled, by moi ? It would be a miracle if that intricate gearing system ever worked again. As I trundled around Gatwick airport with a big blue bike box I was asked by one woman. "My husband and I were just wondering, what IS in there?" .....I couldn't resist "Oh" I replied "my guitar".  "Wow that's big!" she replied...."You better believe it baby!".  I swaggered off. Actually I didn't, you can't swagger with a big blue plastic bike box in one hand and a suitcase in the other.
Challenge2: Travelling with a bike box abroad is also interesting. On arrival at my hotel in Utrecht I was informed I was on the 3rd floor and of course the lift was only big enough for one man and his bunch of tulips (not a euphemism).  So feeling rather like a Dr Who Dalek I faced the 3 flights of stairs with trepidation. Thump thump thump thump thump upto my room on the 3rd floor with suitcase and bike box.
Bike now reassembled, nutrition bars and water bottles at the ready for the next day I settled down for a rather sleepless night. Sleepless not because I was meeting the legend that is Marianne Vos but because 500k over 4 days with female strangers was going to be quite a journey, and more importantly did I have enough chamois cream?. 


There was talk of meeting the other girls for a beer to get to know each other before the ride.  It was 9pm when sweating my bike was finally reassembled. A brief visit from a man whose keycard seemed to also work in my door (again not euphemism). I don't know who was more shocked him on being greeted by a female oily handed in the process of a full bike reconstruction in a hotel room, or me? Needless to say after all the excitement I was ready to crash. I'd have to meet the others tomorrow.

THE START

Once I had dragged 1 x bike (now reassembled), 1 x empty bike box and 1x suitcase across the quaint (not so f**ing quaint when you have a 1 x bike 1x bike box and 1x suitcase with wheels to pull!)  cobbled stones of Utrecht I was again somewhat sweaty and harassed. 

Are you sure this is all going to fit in here ?

Girls like their stuff - so it really was a miracle that 40 womens suitcases fitted into 1 transit van.  It was a bit like the tardis. And lucky for me I met Exhibit B - Sandy, she was perfectly normal as it turned out and the lovely Lisa who as soon as I met her I knew we'd get on like a house on fire. They were lovely. Equally nervous and not dutch.  There were a lot of dutch girls.  All very tall and gorgeous, I felt like Alice in Wonderland as I stood at the till with them waiting for my coffee.  




And then there she was the legend that is Marianne Voss. There to wave off 40 chattering women on their merry way. What a lovely gracious lady she is.  Dutch, small and epic.  I set off in Group 3. 

GROUP RIDING.

Yes me and group riding has not been without it's hiccups. Mainly in fact because I've never actually ended up with the group. So now was my chance. An email had been sent out prior to the trip that sent ripples of fear across the world as it had suggested quite a racy pace. I was beginning to wonder if I’d actually signed up to be in the La Course rather than just going to watch it. There were to be 3 riding groups:- 


Group 1:-  would be cycling at 35kmph - 32kmph. Not that group then. 
Group 2:-  cycling between 32kmph-30kmph. No not that group either  and 
Group 3 :- 28kmph - 30kmph. Holy guacamole where was group 4 when you needed it?. 

Several male friends and my brother thought my fear was hilarious. I figured that whilst I probably could have done Group 2 pushing myself, if I was to last the 500km distance over 4 days Group 3 was definitely a pace at which I could sustain without incurring a heart attack. 

Lisa Sandy and Me

Day 1 Utrecht to Baarle Nassau 126.8km.  

Nutrition all about the nutrition and the eggs Lisa

The beauty of cycling in Holland is that 
a) yes it’s flat and 
b) it has dedicated cycle lanes.  

I cannot over enthuse about the beauty of the cycleways in Holland.  The only downside is the amount of "road furniture" or poles they have along the way but hey we learnt a new hand signal!  We sailed through Holland beside canals, admittedly accompanied by the aroma of cow shit, they do drink a lot of milk over there. The beauty of fields and fields of tulips. Actually I lie there were no tulips, but there were bushes and bushes of hydrangea’s. Their tourism board need to sort their advertising out. And I think the Shetland Pony must have been invented in Holland, I've never seen so many. Maybe they were normal size as well it was just all those tall Dutch girls making them look so small?
How great it was to cycle not jostling for position with cars and lorries or avoiding drains at the side of the road. Bliss, it was quite an experience.  And Group 3 began to bond, telling each other just enough about each other to get an impression.  Apart from Lisa she told me more than enough - hilarious company. I was going to enjoy this trip.

My Garmin recorded: 119km and then stopped. Lisa's Garmin recorded 126.8km

Day 2 - Baarle Nassau to Nazareth 148km. 

Group 3 - Marion, Me, Lisa and Nancy - still smiling

Yes Day 2 on the bike I could definitely feel that I’d been on the bike all day the day before. For the first 10k I was already shifting my posterior on my saddle to find that comfortable position - alas it wasn’t to be found. I felt slightly despondent, if I felt like this now how would I be able to do another 2 days in the saddle? And as we reached Belgium the quality of the tarmac deteriorated with a lot more hand signals for pot holes going on.  Antwerp with a big group of cyclists was also not a joy as lots of stopping and starting at traffic lights. Stopping! Cleats twisted off, cleats twisted on, stopping! cleats twisting off, cleats twisted on - you get the idea. 

A few slow motion topples as inexperience combined with fatigue made cleats for some a challenge. But we all arrived in one piece.  By now we had got used to the groups cycling style (or lack of!) and we were working well as a team. We even had our own chant when we had to get in single file. And actually Lisa and I were giggling our arses off at the back. Having way too much fun. 

It became apparent who the team players were and who maybe should have done some more training.  I think to be able to eat and drink whilst on the bike is quite a basic requirement for a journey of this size.  But by the end of day 2 people were making great improvements, and for the most part working well as a team. 



Challenge 3: Women and cycling. 

Women Cycling a lot of Waffle

So women’s cycling vs mens cycling? Judging by some of the dropped jaws and looks of amazement we encountered as a group of women cycling through villages and towns, it seems that women’s cycling is still quite an alien concept in some countries. What the hell did we think we were doing? Riding with a group of women made a refreshing change, empowering dare I say it?. If it had been a mixed gender group the guys would have felt that compulsion to overtake the female of the species at all costs, even if their eyeballs were bleeding. One girl had a top “Ride like a girl” which summed it up beautifully. The dynamic of the riding would certainly have been different. And obviously as a group of girls we could talk freely about periods, Tinder (Yes you Lisa!!)  and make-up! Peeing? Yes for women in bib shorts this is quite a logistical problem, requiring many layers of clothing to be removed in the process. Several male motorists could been seen grinning away to themselves as they witnessed the relief process, one even pulled into the lay-by for Gods sake to get a better look! 

My Garmin recorded: 1.7km then 5.7 km and then 83.2km and then 57.4km . Lisa's Garmin recorded 148.1km in one recording. FFS !

Day 3 Nazareth to Peronne 151km. 

Yes Nazareth quite a biblical journey this was tuning out to be. I was dreading the start of Day 3 having ached at the start of Day 2 but actually my body was now in the swing of things.  This was probably the best day riding. We’d got through Belgium and were now cycling in France, through all those pretty villages. Granted the road surfaces weren’t always ideal and we were now cycling as part of the mainstream traffic. The cars were definitely less tolerant in France. I never thought I’d be interested in tarmac but you definitely get to appreciate good tarmacadam when you cycle. The dutch have a word for smooth blissful tarmac they call it "or gazem-asfolt”  But cobbles and the female anatomy is a whole other story. In a bad way. Glossing over. 

There were also some hills. I loved the hills they were  a relief from all the flat.  The Tumble training had paid off, I was having a ball. 

My Garmin recorded: 1.3km then 149.6km
Lisa's Garmin recorded 151km in one smooth recording.

Day 4 Peronne to Paris 166km.  

All roads lead to Paris and the Eiffel Tower, actually not all of them as it turns out. A long day which started out wet, which didn’t help morale but the end was in sight. Got to wear my new jacket though. We cycled through some beautiful french countryside and some not so beautiful suburbs of Paris. 10km outside Paris 11 women arrived at a supermarket for fuel - haribo, peanuts and water.  4 characters sat outside the supermarket smoking their Gitannes, within 5 minutes 20 men had gathered circling us , eyeing up the £1000’s worth of bikes. This definitely wasn’t a Giro cafe. These men weren’t gawping because of our frontier breaking cycling, they were about to cash in. Lets go! But we survived, that’s what journey’s are all about a sniff of danger, exhilaration, adventure and a lot of laughter. Albeit nervous laughter.

Oh La La - Les Femmes

My Garmin recorded: 108.7km then ran out of battery. FFS how hard can it be.

Lisa's Garmin recorded :165.7km in one recording. AND navigated us through central Paris.

WE MADE IT ! - I DO SO LOVE PARIS IN THE SUMMER MARION ! 

I do so love Paris in the Summer Marion !

As we came into Paris after some dubious advice by our ride leader " We going to ride into da Paris and f*** the red lights". Pardon? Lisa and I decided we wouldn't be doing that. That's not what they taught us in cycling proficiency classes where we come from old chap. We'd be hand signalling, shouting "STOPPING!" and unclipping. Those crazy dutch girls.  What are they like? By this stage we were hysterically giggling at everything with exhaustion and relief that we'd reached our destination in one piece. When we got to the cobbles it felt like the last straw. Ow!  Ow! Ow! Ow! Marion another Group 3 member (who can be booked for karoake) shouted to me as we reverberated over the cobbles after 4 days in the saddle  (yes very OW!)  "I fucking hate Paris - you're not even my real friends!!" Brilliant. Funny.


But that feeling of cycling into Paris that day is something I will never forget for the rest of my life. 40 of women of all ages and nationalities cycling up the Champs Elysee whooping like banshees stopping all the traffic (they had no choice) to arrive exhausted, sweaty and exultant at the Eiffel Tower.  Being cheered on by passerby's who probably assumed we were something to do with the Tour De France.  Brilliant. What a great adventure with some truly lovely people.




And yes if you count the KM it was actually 591km and over 4 days not 5. Epic. What shall we do next ? I need another adventure. 


FOR SALE 1 x GARMIN EDGE! Or maybe I need to just re-read my instruction manual or only ever go cycling with my buddy Lisa who seems to know what she's doing! Well when it comes to Garmins anyway! 

NEXT CHAPTER:- MMMMM not sure what my next adventure will be ?

Chapter 17 - Velothon Wales and cycling adventures

The next adventure - I think I may be a 

sadist.

Funny how things turn out.....last year I was a triathlon virgin but successfully completed 4 triathlon sprints and loved every minute of the journey. The swimming, the running and the cycling. Even the donning of wetsuit and doing open water swimming gave me some form of sadistic pleasure. I think the word is challenge. I've realised I like a challenge. I've learnt that about myself. I've learnt many things.

So this year I had 4 triathlons booked. Mmmm about that. Something has happened in the meantime.....quite a big thing....it took me by surprise.....it's love.....you see I've fallen in love..........with the cycling bit.  I had been warned.  But nothing quite beats it. And so I have found cycling events taking precedent over already booked triathlons. There are several factors that have lead to this distraction from triathlon and these are who I blame....

It's Grim Up North

I had done a 100mile ride in Loughborough and for all the pain and agony we endured at the end to me there was nothing like the sheer joy of completion. It was a great achievement. When I realised that I might actually be a bit of sadist was when one of my co-riders exclaimed "that's the worst thing I've ever done in my life I hated that".....Oh that's weird I got a kick out of it actually.  How odd.

So my cycling distances to date had been consistent with my triathlon cycling distance required of 20km and I was duly completing this distance around and around and around Richmond Park. Rather like my early running career on Twickenham Green, round and round and round.  But then once I had done the 100miler, I realised there were more KMs out there to be had.

Muchos Ciclismo

Over Easter I notched up the riding kms in Mallorca.  Riding in Mallorca is bliss and that hasn't helped with the falling in love bit either. There is something about climbing those mountains and coming down the other side which just makes you feel like shouting "Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!"  as you blast down the other side. Descending (technical cycling term for going down, not as humorous but sounds more professional - without the Frankie Howard Titter Ye Not implications) while others are ascending (going up) creates a smug pleasure as you see the pain etched on their faces. Because you've earned the downhill bit it's your right. And also you know that just around the corner it will be YOU once again who is coughing up your lungs on the next uppy bit.  

I think there is something about cycling that makes me feel like a kid again.  There is nothing like a bike ride with good friends, having your cake, eating it and burning those calories, getting from A to B.  Looking at the views. Enjoying the sunshine.  It's a great feeling. It makes you feel alive.

One Thing Just Leads to Another - Velothon Wales

So there I was quite happy with my 4 triathlons I had booked for 2015. Then Velothon Wales was mentioned.  I wasn't going to do it. No. I was busy I had 4 triathlons to do. Then my friend Amanda rang and persuaded me that I really wanted to do it.  Oh go on then. Such a pushover.  I then persuaded our friend Catherine that she really wanted to do it too. Even though she didn't actually have a bike at that stage.  And our friend Gareth was already doing it so there we were the 4 musketeers. We'd be fine. So it was going to be just fine......or was it ?

Training it's all about the training.

Actually in order to do 140km comfortably you need to do some training. Darn that training thing can be exhausting! Those weekly Velothon Wales updates on Facebook were also just striking fear and dread into me.  "1 Month to Go!" was supposed to be encouraging. But No actually they were scaring the shit out of me.  

And then everyone started going on about "The Tumble".  No not Mr Tumble that bubbly chubby chap from CBeebies.  Some sort of hill thing apparently.  OK so hills. Focus on the hills. Hell there are no hills in Richmond Park.  I needed a plan.  So I duly befriended the man at school who is regularly in the playground decked in Rapha Lycra. Ever hopeful that he would take me on a big bike ride and get me out of the non-hilly Richmond Park loop. His name is Matt.  "Yeah I can map out some rides for you" he said. Disappointing ...I was hoping he could ride lead.  It was only when he clocked my lovely Ridley Road Bike that he conceded I was deigned worthy enough to accompany him and his lovely wife Eva on a bike ride. And so the two of them have been wonderful in taking me around the Surrey Hills including Staple Hill, Leith Hill and Box Hill.  Lots of kms lots of hills. Great Fun. 

And then there was the distance training.  My boss Chris and I duly set off with 20 A4 pages of Google Maps and tried to rack up the kms around Windsor and back.  Not hilly.  Quite loopy. And there have been a few hairy moments where we've been heading towards the motorway!! Memorable moment in Windsor.  "Keep Left" he shouted. I went left "But you're going right" I shout. "Whatever !!" he replied - ride leading at it's inept best. About turn, against the flow of traffic. I then proceeded to follow his red jacket along the dual carraigeway at full pelt for 5km. Darn it why wasn't he stopping?  Because it wasn't him. Back along the dual carraigeway.  See I knew me and riding in a group never works. But we get up at 5.30am and more smugness as we ride back through Shepperton at 10am and every other bugger is just heading out on their bike ride.  Job Done. Bacon Sarnie time. Still got the whole day to rest on the sofa. Thank you Chris for your unique ride leading!

STRAVA is watching you.....

Before I was truly in love with the cycling my brother had once shown me STRAVA one Christams. I had been a committed fan of MapMyRide. But STRAVA was more Alpha male than MapMyRide. That's hilarious I said that looks to me like a lot of middle aged chest beating men bragging about all the KMs they've racked up trying to out do each other.  Yep that's exactly what it is.  We all give each other Kudos the STRAVA equivalent of a Facebook "Like" but a more hearty testosterone slap on the back. Like a "like" but much more macho. And now I too am sucked in.  Comparing speeds.  Trophy's.  Climbs. Just squeezing out 10 more km just to make it look worthwhile. Going right up to the end of the Cul-de-Sac twice (not a eupehenism) just to clock those kms. And so in the run up to Velothon Wales it became apparent who of the 4 Muskateers was putting in the miles and who seemed to have gone very quiet.  Then there were 2 musketeers. Because sometimes life just gets in the way of cycling. 

Better the Devil You Know or Ignorance is Bliss ? 

The Tumble smiling in the end.

By June I had done the distances. I'd done some hills.  I was Velothon fit.  But there was just one niggling thing.  No not the Chamois Cream, I had plenty of that.  This Tumble thing was now keeping me awake at night. Could it be that bad ? Then Amanda the remaining musketeer went to Wales and conquered it and I realised before Velothon I needed to know what I was letting myself in for.  And now a big debate....is it Better The Devil You Know ? or Ignorance is Bliss ? I needed to cycle The Tumble before Velothon.  Wish I bloody hadn't . I fucking hated it - excuse my french.  Head wobbling from side to side - it went on and on.  Scraggy sheep at the side mocking me with their bloody Welsh Baa Baaa'ing. By the end I wanted to rip off my sweaty socks and gloves, I hated them.  Not a good experience.  The advise given by my ride leader for the day was "You look like one of those dogs in the back of a car with the wobbling heads. Relax. Sit up, use your core. Embrace the hill. Enjoy the Hill". Mmmmmmm. We didn't do Caerphilly mountain that day as it was going to rain. Home for a spot of late afternoon tea instead. Lovely. There are some upsides to the training.

Velothon Wales - #taketheproroad

Never have I been so interested in what the weather was doing in Cardiff.  If it was going to rain this was going to be one carnage of a bike ride as 15000 cyclists descend a hill together.  One minute it said it would be raining the next just cloudy.  In the end I decided not to look I was only going to fret about my base layers.  The night before we had a pasta party in Cardiff arranged by the SunVelo team.  Yes the night before in Cardiff, well that was an eye opener. Never have I seen anything like it. My jaw was dropping. It turns out the most disturbing sight this weekend in Cardiff were NOT the Middle Aged Men in Lycra but the "women" of Cardiff and surrounding environs stuffed into their skimpy nylon outfits on a rainy Saturday night. Blimey scary stuff.  We all hastened back to the hotel to digest our carbs and avoid a fight. And that was just the girls.

Some Viz Characters

Didn't sleep much that night what with all the excitement and wide awake at 5am trying to force feed Porridge and Tesco All Day Breakfast sandwich down me. Very satisfying. Great way to start the day and made me last the 140k distance. 

Tasty Porridge - the best I've had ! 

Reassuring words from a newly acquainted fellow Sunvelo "Team" member just before we set off. As they surveyed my bike with bright pink tyres ...."Did you know research shows that coloured tyres are more likely to puncture than black ones?" thanks for that. I was nervous anyway. As it happens drawing pins are more likely to puncture your tyres aren't they David Harwood ?

Me and Amanda and some other people

We met the remaining Musketeer Amanda, a friendly face. Who for various reasons had nearly ensured it was only the 1 Musketeer but she made it on the day - phew. The rest of "Team" Sunvelo had obviously got the measure of Amanda and I from the Facebook Group already set up.  Various wise cracks from the two of us about cheese shops and waterproof mascara ensured that they sped away from us quite rapidly at the starting line.  Just the 2 Musketeers left then. Better crack on then as they say.

Job Done

What a fab day.  Riding on open roads is not to be underestimated the sheer joy of speeding down a hill and not having to slam the brakes on at the bottom because of a roundabout was very liberating.  Even the drawing pin incident was part of the excitement of the day. Not least because it meant that for Amanda and I for a brief moment we could overtake Sunvelo "Team" mate David Harwood as he mended his 3 drawing pin puncture. Small Victories.  He still whooped our arses. 

Strava is watching you

The weather held out.  I embraced the Tumble - I actually enjoyed it as my "coaches" words echoed in my head "Relax and Enjoy The Hill" I actually did.  Caerphily Mountain not so much though which came at 120k into the 140k ride. I tried to convince myself that the hilly dual carraigeway which everyone was climbing like ants might be what the Welsh considered a mountain.  Nope that wasn't it. Then we came across Caerphilly High Street a vertical high street of this nature I have not witnessed before. Maybe this was it ? Nope.  Around the corner. Oh that's it then.  By this point I was knackered and hot and bothered and in need of a drink. So I confess I did get off and drink my drink. But I did get back on and ride and then carried on to the end. What an absolutely fantastic day. Loved every bit of it. It was worth all the hard work. Boyo that was fab.




The next chapter.....

And now it seems that this 140k ride with all it's training is just a fraction of my next adventure. A  bit of training for the training. I love the training. I am about to do a Sportive tomorrow. Couldn't help myself because I need to be ready for my next adventure in 4 weeks - oh la la RoadTripParis. And Triathlon - well for now it'll just have to wait.

  

Chapter 16 - TriCamp revisited and muchos riding

TriCamp - The Sequel

Is my helmet on straight?

Usually the sequel is never as good as the original, so I was slightly concerned that my second visit to TriCamp wouldn't be quite the journey it had been last year and would I really get as much out of it? I was particularly concerned as I'd had a cold for most of December and January and whilst I wasn't as green as I was last year I certainly hadn't been able to put in the hours of training that had been clocked up by early 2014. So I was worried that I wasn't going to have the stamina required for this level of exercise.

I was determined that this time I wasn't going to be the camp numpty. Especially when my friend Steve admitted that last year when we had first gone out on the bikes it was agreed "she's the one to avoid!". Something about my my Liza Minnelli jazz hand cycling signals and inability to locate my brakes. Well I've come a long way, my chain doesn't come off up hill everytime anymore and I know the difference between the big cog and the little cog (ones bigger than the other). So I was determined to keep my head down and stay below the radar. Well so much for that! Day 1 didn't go too well......

DAY 1 - STAYING BELOW THE RADAR

Day 1 off to the local pool on bikes. Oh how terrified I had been last year on that first ever foray on a road bike.  But it was a doddle cycling to the pool this year for swimming drills. There were definitely others who showed their cycling proficiency to be distinctly lacking. Yay! I wasn't going to be the one to avoid. Well at least not on the bike!

My swimming had come on since last year I wasn't that person taking 1 deep breath, going full pelt and having a heart attack at the deep end. No I had come a long way, I could alternate breath and everything, I'd show them.  Coach Hev was going through hand exercises with our lane to get us to "feel the catch". Everyone was going up the pool no problem. Well apart from me who wasn't quite "feeling the catch".  But I was getting away with it. Below the radar below the radar. Coach Hev.... "CATHERINE ! come over here" ...Oh No! don't single me out it's only Day 1 I'm staying below the radar.  She starts explaining the motion I should be replicating. "Oh Yes Yes I see " say I.  Off I go...."CATHERINE!" Oh No she's spotted me.  Have you ever had that brain freeze moment in an interview when you're asked a question and your brain completely empties leaving you with panic as you seek to find the answer any answer to the question? It didn't matter how much Coach Hev explained the hand motion, it wasn't sinking (swimming reference!) in. I think she realised she was getting no where.  It was as if she was explaining it in Spanish. Similar to when I've had big cog little cog on my bike explained to me. But being singled out wasn't the worst bit of the swim session it was about to get much worse.  In a moment of pure "killer whale hunts down a seal" speed swimming, I overtook my opponent in the pool only to crash head on with my friend JT who was coming the other way.  10 people now looked at each and agreed "She's the one to avoid!". 

Day 2 didn't get much better, a perfectly lovely cycle to the sea for a swim in wetsuits.  Open water swimming isn't my favourite past time. Whose is ? Oh apart from Sandi my lovely cornish room mate who had been a lifeguard in Australia, she was like flipper in the water perfectly happy.  No there is something about all those other people thrashing around you that makes my heart race and have a rising sense of panic. Give me a lilo and I'm perfectly happy.  It was also quite nippy in March.  To the extent my feet felt numb with cold. So whilst last year I hadn't quite made it around the buoys, this year I did, but I felt really dizzy and had to get out. Quite common with sea swimming. This below the radar strategy wasn't actually panning out too well. Coach Nick was great as ever as I sat fighting back tears on the beach - very encouraging. He's very good with erm you know what do you call them ? Ah yes "Middle Aged Women"!  I got back in the water on his persuasion only to have a head on collision with ....yes you've guessed it....JT. "I'm really really sorry"....  JT to me "You're a mad woman you're aiming for me!" It's a good job I know him. And anyway he should understand he nearly killed a Triathlon Nun so he can't talk. See Chapter 8.  Well the afternoon was much better........or was it?

GROUP RIDING OR NOT AS THE CASE MAY BE.

Me and the Pelaton !

The afternoon was spent learning the art of "Group Riding" something I've never really truly got the hang of. I'd usually only ever ridden with 1 other person.  And the other times I'd ridden in a group (and I use the term loosely) I had had 1 sarcastic comment from my friend Gareth which made me realise I hadn't quite got the etiquette right. And when I'd ridden with my local Tri Club, I got the distinct impression the men didn't want to be held up by me and so left it upto the only other female on the ride to look after me. Several times they came back for me, but I just couldn't keep up the same pace as them.  So I was looking forward to learning this ancient art. I might even be part of a Pelican.

There they are !

Off we all set - and I think it's fair to say there was a lot of Northern testosterone flying around! There were only 2 females on this year's TriCamp, so we were definitely outnumbered. And it became clear that at the very least no male was going to be overtaken by a girl. Especially a 46 year old girl - OK middle-aged woman not girl. It became apparent there were 2 distinct riding groups and then me! Why is it always me?  So group 1 fuelled by sibling rivalry and testosterone sped off practicing the art of group riding, it looked great, even off in the far distance.  And then there were others behind, others that didn't really number "a group" and hence the art of "group riding" couldn't really be practiced, and any etiquette of Ride Leader and Pupil seemed to be getting a bit fuzzy. It was getting quite tense back there. So I decided to cycle full pelt and catch up with the Pec's-A-thon. And at one point they were most definitely within my sights, and then as I edged closer they seemed to go up a gear and effortlessly pull away.  So now there was a group in front of me and a group behind me, neither within my sights. So on our "group riding" day I was most definitely cycling on my own and most definitely not in a group, ho hum.  I decided there was no point going into Zone 5 - cardiac arrest zone - to catch up. I'd just go at my own decent pace. I came across a German Touring Group with proper handle bars and picnics in their back packs.  They were going at a lovely pace, and were chatting and laughing.  For a brief moment I thought "Perhaps I'm on the wrong holiday - I've found my perfect riding group, back packs and picnics- Eureka!" perhaps TriCamp just wasn't for me?  And then lovely Matt the policeman from Devon appeared like a knight in shining armour.  "Get on the back Catherine" and off we sped.  You know what? that did definitely feel better as we swooshed at speed past the Von Trapp family on their day out.  OK now we just had to catch the others.  We did eventually do some "group riding" with the Pecker-A-Thon. Still couldn't say I entirely understand group riding.  But I am a bit more informed.  And it did make me realise that left to my own devices I will quite happily potter along. I definitely need someone pushing me, and I realise I can actually do it - so maybe I always need to just push myself that little bit harder? Take myself out of the pootling zone.

CYCLING - GOOD FOR THE SOUL.

Muchos Riding

Over the 3 weeks I was in Mallorca I cycled 550kms. Maybe not that far in distance to some but a fair bit of climbing involved, plenty of banter, some scares, laughter and lots of wonderful people. Not as much cake as I would have liked Nick Dunn! I once more visited Sa Calobra but with no stops this time, no back pack and a more sophisticated range of nutritional aids. Thanks to Simon Wood for coming to cycle with me for the last bit of Sa Calobra in the absence of Andrew.  And you can borrow my reading glasses anytime! And Mark who kept me company whilst I swallowed a fly and was very encouraging.  And a big thank you to Dave Harwood at SunVelo who provided the lovely wheels for me to enjoy. I cycled up hills, beside the sea, saw a lighthouse - Yes Sandi it was there.  Went under tunnels, went up more hills, visited the garage, nearly got blown off a hill, went up more hills, went down the other side, along country lanes with muchos aribos de olivos. Cycling in Mallorca is wonderful, it makes you want to learn spanish, buy an olive farm and cycle till your hearts content. Cycling makes you feel like a kid going out on your bike for the day with friends for an adventure.  It lightens the soul. I LOVE IT!

10 THINGS I HAVE LEARNT CYCLING IN MALLORCA

Power Bar fuelled goat

1. Those with the all kit can't always cycle. I definitely didn't do my BMC bike justice. You can almost reverse the ratio the more expensive and matching the bike and kit - the more likely to find yourself not riding in a pair. You're not fooling anyone.

2. Take your sunglasses off when riding through a tunnel. You are less likely to feel like you're going to crash and die. AHHHHHHHHHH

3. Mallorcan goats are a road hazard and prefer to eat Power Bars than muffins, and thus need to be treated with extreme caution because they WILL have a turbo charge.

4. Big lads struggle up hills but boyo can they get down the other side quickly. Tortoise and Hare.

5. A bike ride is definitely enhanced by cake and a bike ride with a full afternoon tea is heaven.

6. Never underestimate what you are capable of.

7. You can get your wheel caught in a Mallorcan drain cover. And I have seen a pro cyclist do it so I'm in good company. I did exclaim "SHIT!" loudly. He just blushed profusely.

8. Group Cycling - bit like biology I was always rather average at it.  Not at the front and not at the back - but somewhere in the middle on my own - touring with the picnic brigade. Could do better.

9. Windy bike rides on mountains are scary. If it's windy and rainy it's best to stay indoors and keep warm.

10. Old lycra cycling shorts can become see through, and you don't wear pants underneath. Please consider other cyclists in your Pelican. Bend over and check before you mount.

CYCLING QUESTIONS STILL PERPLEXING ME

Question 1 - Why do my toes go numb ? Even when it's hot and dry?

Question 2 - Is there an international cycling hand signal for road kill?

Question 3 - Car Up or Car Back ? Which way is up ? Make your mind up.

Question 4 - What is the point of an electric bike?

Question 5 - Is it just me or does everyone need just one more tiny gear to go up a hill?

Question 6 - Big Cog Little Cog - yeah yeah glossing over.

Question 7 - Cherry Drops or Werthers Originals?

Question 8 - Wouldn't a cycling cap be a good idea when it's raining?

Question 9 - What is enough oil on a chain and the same with chamois cream?

Question 10 - Never judge a place by it's flower pots. You never know what's inside.

WHAT'S NEXT ?

Did I enjoy TriCamp the sequel?. Yes I bloody well did - lots of laughter, lots of exercise, fresh air, great food, amazing scenery and lovely people. And there's always something new to learn. Like don't turn right down bin alley. And don't bother bringing your going out threads eh? Andy, Rob and Joe? you'll just be way too knackered to go out and party. But it's a great feeling. We smashed it! 

Next challenge? to cycle 140km around hilly Wales at Velothon Wales in June. I really do need to get my speed up and stay in the saddle for 6 hours and practice some hills. I reckon I need to cycle 100km a week starting from this week. So cherry drops or werthers originals?