Chapter 20 - Muchos Riding in Spain

MUCHOS MUCHOS CICLISMO

I'm THAT Speedy ! 

I was off to Spain for RideAlongSpain with Strongher the womens cycling group.....

It's always with nervousness that I begin a new cycling adventure, and worrying thoughts creep in. What if I can't keep up? Will I be in tears? Will I have the energy? Will there be cake? Will my Garmin make it past 40km? What will the people be like? Whatever happened to Martine McCutcheson, and why doesn't the string work on my roman blinds anymore? Oh yes cycling thoughts, sorry I became very distracted.

And everyone says to me - "Oh you'll be fine". A bit like when you're taking exams and Aunties and Uncles who have never attended your school parents evenings or read your school reports seem qualified to reassure you "oh you'll be fine, you'll pass" ...but how do they know? ....well maybe I just won't be fine this time?

The world is ours ! 

That thing when you're waiting for a stranger....

As I stood at Barcelona airport waiting for Frank and his bikes, doubts crept in.  I didn't know this guy, he'd taken my money but how could I be sure he'd turn up?  And anyway where was he taking me? I stood anxiously by the Centro de Informacion Turistica. Smiling at every male stranger just in case it was Frank. First impressions count right?  After 10 minutes I had been grinning insanely at several random men. I didn't want to make a stereotypical assumption of what this bike guy might look like. 

The old guy in the baseball cap, Old Frank and his bikes. Nope.  The hippy Frank smelling of petouilli oil dressed in tie dye and his bikes. Nope.  Suave Frank in suit jacket. Nope.  Frank and his dreadlocks and his bikes. Nope. OK so maybe I didn't look like a cyclist in my non-Lycra airport outfit.  I got my cycling helmet out of my bag and started swinging it around casually.  A sure sign that I was a cyclist. So now I was grinning inanely at strange men and swinging my helmet around.  People were beginning to walk around me, and I was now attracting unwanted interest! It was time to call Frank.  Ah there he was blonde Dutch boy Frank and his bikes all bouncy and enthusiastic.  He took me to his van, which rather encouragingly had "Frank's Bikes" in big yellow letters all over it.  OK so things were going to be OK. Phew. My face was hurting from grinning.

That group riding thing....

For a start this RideAlongSpain group was being led by ex-pro cyclist Marijn De Vries. This fact seemed slightly terrifying to me. Would they all be nearly pro-cyclists and I'd be left at the back trying desperately to keep up? I wasn't feeling particularly bike fit either, as I hadn't managed to pack in as much training as I had hoped for, due to the weather in the UK and too many afternoon teas! 

Isabelle, Sasha, Nada, Me, Marijn 

There were to be 4 of us and luckily for me Frank reassured me that we were an inexperienced group. Oh maybe now I'd undersold my ability?. The others were fit but hadn't had that much experience on a road bike. So swings and roundabouts.  When it comes to hills always ride with dutch girls (not a euphenism) because they aren't used to them!. So while I'm not particularly fast I do like a nice uphill "embrace the mountain Catherine, enjoy the mountain" as someone once told me as I burst my lungs on the way up The Tumble. Take young Isabelle, she could whiz down the hills at a terrifying speed in a cloud of dust, but as soon as the climb began she almost ground to a stand still and I could pass her with ease.  So it all worked out nicely. Even once Sasha had had her saddle altered for the 27th time! She was doing what is known as a Shakira - seat too high sending the hips rocking. Sasha was a mountain biker who couldn't quite get her head around the stopping and drinking coffee and eating cake thing. "Why do we keep stopping?" Me :- "Because we can and we get to eat cake, and that's the joy of road cycling the coffee stops along the road".  If anyone wants a new business idea you need to get some cafe's in the woods for those poor deprived mountain bikers!! Not sure Sasha has totally fallen in love with road cycling yet. But hey what does she know she plays underwater hockey! WTF ! Yes there is such a thing apparently - absolutely ridiculous. 

To the Beach Beach ! 

That cycling in Spain thing.....

Well I have to say I'm well and truly smitten. Riding in Spain is just bliss.  You have your uppey bits, but there are always downy bits and flat bits. There's variation that's what I like.  And I have to say the cycling in the mountains near Gironne was lovely. Lots of different landscapes, sea views, forests, stick farms, country lanes, farms. And lovely roads devoid of cars and actually even cyclists.  And Marijn knew all the hidden treasures.  We detoured out of very ordinary looking villages, under an arch and before you knew it you were stepping back in time into a cobbled courtyard. Places where you felt you had to whisper because it felt like you'd found a hidden village.  Enchanting. 

That cycling with just women thing....

It is just different cycling with women.  I have cycled with men. Some very nice men. But when there's a mixed group, the men do just want to drop the women and leave them behind.  OK not all men. But cycling with women just feels more harmonious, less intimidating.  Because a man can't be seen to be "beaten" by a woman. I have had some ridiculous situations in Mallorca when I've been cycling on my own.  Where men have nearly had a heart attack trying to pass me. And the comments and looks female cyclists get from male cyclists - sheer incredulity sometimes. That said I have had some very thoughtful male cyclists look after me whilst going beetroot red, swallowing flys, sucking my cherry drops - me not them (and that's definitely not a euphemism even though it does sound quite rude).  So maybe it's just men in groups. What is the collective term for a group of male cyclists anyway ? Lycr-Osterone?   A macho-ped? Brutus-Lycrus? or a Grunt? Well maybe it just makes us women try a bit harder? Actually I just want to enjoy my cycling, so whatever it takes.

That hanging out with a pro thing....

Marijn de Vries - what a really lovely lady.  Great ride leader. She has taught me many things.  

1. That that pocket at the back of my neck on my cycling rain jacket isn't in fact for my lipstick but to fold my jacket into when packing it away - genius
2. It is possible to dance until your toe nails drop off if you are on very strong painkillers.
3. That Frank likes his horn. I had to explain this might have another meaning in the UK.
4. How to pee in bib shorts. Not IN the bib shorts but whilst wearing bib shorts. A thing not often discussed a bit like child birth. Not going to go all lady garden on you - don't want to make anyone squirm!
5. She also has a "taking photo's of doors" thing like I do.  She showed us many beautiful hidden doors.
6. The castles where Maradona and Katy Perry live. Not together apparently.
7. That she knows proper fast cycling people.  

Pac-A-Jacket - neat !

Fact 7. This was a cool moment.  Over dinner Marijn asks if it's OK if she watches on her laptop her best friend who is racing. Yes we say.  We start to watch the UCI track world championships in London. Quite special when you have a pro telling you all the tactics of a race. We watched Great Britain's Laura Trott come first and Marijn's friend happened to be defending her world title. Her friend happens to be Kirsten Wild who we watched get the silver.  Wow! You don't get that cycling around Richmond Park! 

That boys and their van thing....

Frank was very proud of his van, as well as his horn. Quite rightly. It was an impressive horn.  The same sound as the Tour de France vans apparently. A horn that would make you jump out of your skin when hooted.  But it also made you feel like a pro.  As we toured the Spanish countryside with the van it looked like we were a proper team.  Apart from the lack of team kit obviously.  But we had crew who could fix things. That was Franks job as Marijn kept telling us. It felt good. I liked that.  

The difference with Frank's van and the van driven on the RoadTripParis van was the contents.  The van on RoadTripParis was like a mobile sweet shop with boxes of Haribo.  I put this down to the driver Naomi being pregnant! Franks van was more nutritious ....banana's and almond nut snacks.  Frank wasn't pregnant.  

Frank's Van - it's a love thing.

I think Frank is in love with his van.  We often caught him taking photo's of it in various locations at different angles.

That to sum it up thing....



We were pretty lucky.  It was great to cycle in a small group and the weather was definitely our friend. We like friends. Sunshine all the way. Over 300km cycled. (no thanks to Garmin again). Mountains climbed. Plenty of cake. No punctures to report. Great roads with no-one around for miles - bliss. A beautiful part of the world.  All in all a great tour from the very start to finish with lovely people. Thank you. 

Anyway back to reality again .....Whatever did happen to Martine McCutcheson ? to be discussed over a bottle of Rioja sometime!

The end celebrations !

Girls in Gironne

BYE ! 

Chapter 19 - 2016 Revolutions, Revelations and Resolutions

New Years Resolutions

As midnight struck and 2016 dawned, people began asking about New Years resolutions. A couple of so called "friends" had been trying to persuade me to do a 70.3 half ironman.  I had been on the verge of signing up. But then quite frankly I'm happy where I am. I can still have challenges without killing myself and becoming a stranger to my family.  Running any distances over 10km seems like a recipe for injury to me, so I'm sticking to Sprint distances. 2 booked. 

So what are my challenges for 2016 ?

1. To improve my cycling - cornering, and riding in a group, and speed.

2. Run a 10k a week at least under 1 hour

3. Swim harder.

4. Give up Super Noodles

5. World peace and help orphaned children

6. Set up a donkey sanctuary

Well 5 and 6 and can wait until I've done 1 to 4.

1. Cycling Skills - Revolutions

My lovely cousin Holly from Spring Cycle Coaching

I have had some basic cycling tuition in the past, big cog little cog seems a million years ago and by some very patient lovely people. But honestly, that whole group riding thing was still a bit of an enigma.  See previous chapters. See, I never really seem to stay in a group, I'm always in the middle or at the back.  And well, if I'm going to do more cycling I probably should learn the etiquette required.  For fear of forever being dropped and left "along the reed road with the German touring group". I tried to rectify that today by attending a Road Racing Womens Only course run by Kerry from  Revolution Cycling and my lovely cousin Holly from Spring Cycle Coaching.

It all seemed good. Until I started re-looking at the title of the course beforehand "Road Racing" - yes the clues are in the title.  Never really wanted to race people - just being able to keep up seems ambition enough to me. So I began to feel slightly nervous before the course.  Very sleepless night similar to when you have to get up early for a flight, waking every hour.  Dreams of getting to the airport and realising you're just in your pants or just not being able to shut the suitcase. I couldn't work out whether my sleepless worrying about forgetting pedals and shoes was apprehension or just the sheer volume of cheese I'd consumed the night before.  Anyway.....

Pheasants all part of cycle training.

So we all turned up off of the Norf-Circular on a very windy Sunday.  The other girls - for they were mostly just girls -  all had their Cycling Club Jerseys on - bit intimidating.  I was team Castelli.  Bit of DHB, Rapha underneath and Giro. So an amateur basically. We set off down to the track.  The first obstacle thrown in our path was a pheasant. I know my cycling hand signals and commands, Car Back, Car Up. Wasn't sure what the hand signal was for "Get the fuck out of the way there's a half alive pheasant flailing around in the path". If anyone knows it can they let me know? Wow this was just the start, what else were they going to literally "throw at us", I've dodged goats in Mallorca, tourists in Paris and Deer in Richmond Park, a mere pheasant wasn't going to deter me. I'd like to say no pheasants were harmed in the process but unfortunately I think it was. RIP  What the hell was it doing up there anyway? I digress.

YEP that really is me ! 

A great 3 hours followed getting used to riding in a group and more importantly within very close proximity to other riders. Which can take some getting used to.  Lots of sprinting.  See the lovely photo above.  This is great - I love this photo for 3 reasons;- 1:-It looks like I'm winning ! 2:- it's the first photo of me on a bike where I don't look like Animal from the muppets and 3:- Several people have been under the mis-apprehension that I was running the course. To those people bless you thank you but if you'd have seen my racing "performance" you'd realise how ridiculous this is.  Thank God we weren't chip timed. Now I have a confession ....by the last race, I was so completely knackered that I was the last person to cross the finish line. Absolutely exhausted.  No, racing isn't for me, I know that now. But get me on a bike at a clay pigeon shoot and I'll be fine!

Catherine Jevans Pro-Cyclist

Lady Gaga ?

My next trip is with Strongher to the Cataluna Mountains.  Again the clue is in the title - Mountains.  It  is merely February so not much opportunity to get out on the bike, lots of eating the cake but not much of the cycling. Which is a tad worrying. I'm not really bike fit.  I tried to rectify this with an 80k Surrey Hills jaunt.  Apologies to the Kingston Wheelers who were doing a time trial that day, sorry if we got in your way.  If you think MAMILs look funny.  Get a MAMIL in a time trial cycling outfit and they look like they've just landed in their space ship or are taking part in a  Lady Gaga video.  So there we were minding our own business with the unnerving sound of time trialists whirring up behind us. And oh look there's the event photographer. I think he must have seen my photo from the week before and mistaken me for a #pro. "Oh No" I shouted "I'm not in the event!" easy mistake to make obviously, given how professional I'm looking these days.  "I know that" he chuckled (it's not that funny) "I just love your pink wheels".  So somewhere on some website they'll be lots of professional looking time trialists and then a random woman with pink wheels. I wonder what time I clocked. No No No ....I'm not racing, I'm not about the speed. I'm all about the cake and the training.


Next stop Gironne the Cataluna Mountains.

2. Running - Revelations

My last run of 2015 was on New Years Eve very hilly, wet and hungover near Tintern Abbey. Not ideal really.  So 2016 could only get better.  My first run of 2016 was  on the 9th January 10.6km.  Amazing how many people were out running, jogging, shuffling in their shiny new running gear.  Never has the riverside path been so packed with runners.  I watched some of them and wondered how many of them would put their trainers back in the box and shove them under the bed to collect dust for the rest of the year.  Trainers are like dogs they're not just for Christmas you know. By February there's a lot more room on the tow path.

I use MapMyRide sometimes.  Its a good app. It alerts you when friends are running with a sharp whistle.  Guess it shames you into doing something as it seems that everyone else is at it.  My friend Carlos lives in New York, he's training for the marathon. So he's running a lot.  Unfortunately there is a time difference with New York, so when Carlos goes for a run it's 2am in the morning in the UK.  Peep Peep. Wide Awake.  What the hell was that ? Oh look Carlos is going for a run.  Marvellous. I've now turned the alerts off.  Sometimes Carlos runs really really fast.  Surprisingly fast.  Amazingly fast.  I made a comment. His reply "Ah yes I accidentally left the app running whilst I was taking the Metro". That would explain that then. I thought he had suddenly been taking steroids.

I'm happily running 10k each run a week now.  But don't expect me to increase that distance any time soon. #poppingcalf.

3. Swim Harder - Resolutions

I'm sure men don't have this problem.  But for women we need to prepare in advance before we go swimming to avoid embarrassment.  I'm talking lady garden maintenance. I swim at Hampton Open Air Pool.  It's a short dash from the changing room to the shallow end. Usually at high speed because being an outdoor pool it's very cold when merely dressed in your swimmers in the depths of winter. So I had been putting off my swim due to inadequate lady garden maintenance.  But I reasoned if I dashed even faster from the changing room to the pool no-one would notice my poor maintenance. So I duly set off to the pool.  

Imagine my horror when a note taped on the door read "Today there is filming in progress". Great, the one day I'm poorly maintained that's typical.  But it got worse.  I was ready for the dash, but as I emerged from the changing room into the cold air, my usual route to the shallow end was blocked.  There were several work men beside the pool re-grouting the tiles (not a euphemism). In my state of panic, float now positioned firmly in front of my groin area, I couldn't work out how to get into the pool.  Sensing my panic a workman shouted "You need to get in up there love".  Marvellous I now had to walk the length of the pool, 36metres to be precise, to the deep end.  Now everyone WAS looking at me. Luckily no camera's though.  Forgetting it was the deep end, and just really wanting to get submerged quickly, I got in......and sank straight to the bottom. I emerged back up to the surface coughing and spluttering.  Ah yes it's the deep end, it's deep. I wasn't drawing attention to myself at all was I ?!!!! They had also sectioned off the pool with rope to stop the grouting getting wet.  A fact I kept forgetting. So at the end of each length, I practically garrotted myself on the rope. Causing me to abruptly stop swimming and surface spluttering.  I need to get out and go home, via the chemist for some Immac.





My first swim of 2016 was on the 7th January I was better prepared in certain departments I wouldn't' get caught out like that again.  I also had my new Swimovate swim watch. I'd wanted the watch as I had no idea how efficient or fast I was whilst swimming. I emerged from the changing room fully maintained and proud.  It was cold.  I got into the pool.  There's no hanging about in an outdoor pool. I looked at my watch and pushed a button. I hadn't really managed to read the instruction manual fully as I'd lost my reading glasses and it was quite small print.  I began my swim.  Fully recording every efficient stroke and lap.  After 70 lengths, I looked at the watch. Yep it still read 7th January and the time. Well that's good it tells the time then.  Need to go home and read the instruction manual.  This was going to be like my bloody Garmin. 

For my next swim I was fully instructed and maintained.  Watch was turned on and all laps recorded.  It then gave me all sorts of data which meant absolutely bloody nothing. I would need to refer to the bloody instruction manual again.  But knowing I was recording my swim, I had made lots more effort.  Or so I thought.  When I referred to my manual, it told me my efficiency was average. Really ? bit disappointing.  Well my swim watch is very lovely, purple and it tells the time perfectly. Oh and it's waterproof.  Need to work on my efficiency.

4. Giving up Super Noodles

Cucumber sandwiches who knew they were so lovely ? 

 Yes I'm proud to say I've given up Super Noodles.  But I do have a particular penchant for cucumber sandwiches. Not always easy to come across though.

5 and 6 - World Donkeys and peaceful Orphans

Well I'm busy aren't I ? This isn't Miss World you know. I am off to Spain so I may see some donkeys in the mountains or El Burro as they say in Espania. I'll let you know. Peace ? Well I have vowed to Be Kind this year. To myself and others. And orphans ? perhaps I'll do something for Barnardo's this year ? 

Good.  Resolutions resolved, revolved and revealed.

That's your lot. Until the next time.

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 ?