Winning weekend (yes I'm back!)

Well it's been a long time since I've posted to my blog. Nearly 14 months... and a lot has happened in that time. More to be written about that in future posts once I come up with some nice charts and stats. But in the meantime, I'm back to racing and back to winning! It's a nice feeling. :)

Last Saturday was our club open hill climb, the John Bornhoft Memorial. I won this event in 2010 handily but having raced only sporadically this year I wasn't sure how I would do. To make matters worse, I have had a headcold since early September that never really went away and then came back with full force on Friday. So I wasn't heading into the weekend in the best of shape. On the plus side, I'm nearly 3lbs lighter than 2010 which is obviously helpful in hill climbing!

In the end, I managed to go 2.5 seconds faster than two years ago and win by nearly seven seconds -- though Emily is getting closer and closer every year! My watts were the same as 2010 so I'm hoping that means I'm on form for some better hill climb performances in the next few weeks once this silly cold finally clears off.

Suffering badly, as is the case with all hill climbs! Thanks to Patron Choufflard for the pic.

Then on Sunday morning at silly o'clock (for me on a Sunday anyway!) I headed out to race at the new Cyclopark circuit. Having only raced there once before and under the worst weather conditions (I DNF'ed) I was keen but nervous to give it a try again. I needn't have really worried -- if I overestimated my fitness early this season, I'm underestimating it nowadays. Only 11 riders showed up for the start, and with me needing 7 points to keep my 2nd cat licence, I thought 3rd place was certainly do-able.

Turned out that a break of three was established within the first two laps and there was no looking back. KW teammate Jasmijn and former-KW-now-Wyndymilla rider Emily were my break companions and we worked together well to stay ahead of everyone else. In fact, we lapped all but one rider. Emily looked tired after a long season of racing where she's really upped her game, and Jasmijn was happy to give me a hand, having won there herself on a solo break a few weeks back. In the end, knowing I would not outsprint Emily if I left it to the last 100m, I attacked with about a minute to go on a small rise and got a big enough gap to take the win comfortably. Mission accomplished and after a frustrating start-stop season of road racing I can be satisfied ending it on a win and retaining my 2nd cat license for next year. Onto hill climb season proper now!

My game face at the start (pic by organisers Handsling Racing)

Lastly, KW clubmate Andy Taylor has made a brilliant video of the hill climb with a detailed view of the course and every competitor climbing past "cowbell corner". Rewind to watch the whole thing if you have time, it's quite a nice bit of editing! I've embedded it to start with me riding past and right after that is Jim running up the hill pushing Otter in the stroller... another year and she'll be on her own little balance bike whizzing around the trails.

Expectations

Before I had Otter, I had fitness. I had watts. I had several seasons of consistent training and racing, virtually injury-free, and with some pretty decent results.

This is what my PMC looked like:

January to October 2010: Before Otter

In January I was just starting to rebuild after a couple of months off following the Ironman world championships in mid-October, and 2010 was the season I went from triathlete to cyclist. The big peaks indicate periods of huge training loads (February in Lanzarote, April with lots of road racing, July at the Ras Cymru). Between the peaks -- which were followed by actual peaks in performance -- there are a few troughs where life took over: illness, minor injuries, holidays. The end of the season in early October coincided with peaking for hill climbs, thus shorter more intense training sessions for very short (~5 minute) races. Over the whole season I went from a CTL of just under 70 to a peak of over 120, then tailed off to 85 by end of season.

With this in mind, I had great ideas of how life would be once she was born, how I would take a few weeks to recover then get back into shape as quickly as possible. Hours-long road races and TTs were out, of course, but shorter stuff like hill climbs seemed like just the thing I could do after childbirth. Supposedly my extra red blood cells would mean a kick to my Vo2max and everyone knows that you lose weight while breastfeeding, right? HA HA.

This is my PMC now:

October 2010 to August 2011: After Otter

From the 85 I was at last October, my CTL fell dramatically over the winter, picked up again in spring, then went into freefall to an all-time low of 30 at the start of August. I'm holding that steady now, but not really building it back up, though that's more due to lack of time to train than lack of desire.

But even with an unplanned c-section (and my fitness did play a big role in helping me recover quickly from that), I still thought post-birth that I could fulfill my pre-birth expectations. Two weeks afterwards I rode my bike for the first time -- stamina was low, legs felt terrible, but ah the fresh air! The wind on my face and the sun on my arms! Never mind the watts.

Then a few more weeks passed and my power didn't seem to be improving. Worse yet my body just didn't want to push itself much. And apart from the massive weight loss I got in the week after she was born, I wasn't losing any more! It felt like I was newly pregnant again -- outwardly not looking too bad, but inwardly no legs, no motivation, no power. And no sleep to boot. Still, I was happy to be out on the bike. Though starting to rethink my expectations a bit. Ok, definitely no road races. Probably not even a 10 mile TT, especially with wrecked ab muscles and a sore lower back in desperate need of some core work. Even hill climbing, that beacon of hope in the distance, was starting to look pretty unlikely.

Nine weeks in, I now have to admit that 2011 is going to be a washout season. My FTP has barely climbed from the 185 watts I had in April to 205 watts today. Last year's 240-250 watts seems like a dream. The last 5kgs of pregnancy weight is not going to come off my body without a fight -- probably not til Christmas when Otter starts to wean, or maybe even later til I completely stop breastfeeding. Which means that there's no way I'll attempt hill-climbing, which is all about low weight and high watts. Pretty much the opposite of what I have now!

So 2011 is the season that wasn't. Quite forgettable in athletic terms... yet so memorable in life terms. We have the best prize of all -- we have Otter! What's a few missed races and lost watts when I have a beautiful kid to show for my efforts.




How long til she's on a bike of her own?

June 5

Today was my due date. And I rode 35km in Richmond Park, mostly to say that I did it. Total of 75km ridden this week. Goal accomplished! No pics to mark the occasion but I can verify that I'm now wearing one of Jim's medium-sized KW jerseys, my quads hit the bottom of my bump with every pedal revolution (giving me an unintentional bowleggedness) and afterwards my ribs feel battered and bruised from having a 8-pound baby's legs squashed into them. An hour to 90 minutes is my max these days on the bike then I've had enough.

Ironically I feel fairly fit still -- in fact, I put in the highest peak 1-minute and 5-minute power I've seen in about six weeks, though that was partly due to my annoyance at how many slow and silly cyclists were in my way today! -- but riding a bike is ceasing to be much fun now. Glad to have ridden as long as I did but the time has come to stop I think.

So... the other day I finally relented and bought a swimsuit to fit my giant whale-like shape. Tomorrow or the next day I'll visit the pool for a swim. Looking forward to it actually, as it'll be a novelty to swim with such a huge belly -- will I float more than usual or start sinking? What'll work best, freestyle, backstroke, or breastroke (dare I say butterfly)? All of this will be interesting to discover and it'll give me something to keep my mind and body occupied while I wait for this now-overdue baby to make an appearance.

But sorry, no pics of me in said swimsuit will follow. It was bad enough seeing myself in the changeroom mirror when I tried it on!



For those with no imagination, I'll probably look something like this.

Training Partners

It's a good thing I wrote my last post when I did and not a week later, as it's true what everyone says about 30 weeks and beyond: the baby grows by half a pound a week, your lungs get more and more compressed, and life is suddenly a lot tougher again. Three weeks on and I can't even run up a flight of stairs without feeling completely winded! These days my rides have as few rises in the road as possible, and my usual quick out-of-the-saddle sprint to get through roundabouts and come out of corners has been reduced to a slow careful slog.

But I can't complain as I'm still fairly comfortable on the bike, the weather has turned to glorious spring, and the longer days means more time to ride in the evenings. It could be a whole lot worse, and frankly I'm going to plan this timing for the next kid too -- it would be horrible to be 30 weeks in the middle of autumn with nothing but dark dreary short days to look forward to for the next four months.

As I've been forced to watch many others pass me by -- quite literally, as every cyclist on a road bike these days overtakes me -- it's been interesting to contemplate this dramatic fall in speed and power and think about my journey through various training partners since I got pregnant. I hesitate to say "regression" though that's of course what it's been; it's nicer to think of it in terms of getting to know various folks in the club as I join them on rides I'd have rarely done otherwise.

Pre-pregnancy to week 6
Still riding lots with Jim and the other 2nd/3rd cat racers in my club, which means hard training sessions and hammerfests that really push my limits at times. Club runs are those of the more social variety as recovery and mental health rides, where I hold back a lot on the flats and drop most people on the climbs whether I'm trying to or not. In other words, I'm in pretty peak form.

Weeks 6-18
The sudden influx of morning sickness means faster-paced club runs are about as hard as I care to ride. Full of fit guys and girls, not road racers but strong TTers and hardened sportivers nonetheless, up for pushing the effort from time to time but mostly wanting a steady good-paced ride and that suits me fine. It's touch and go at times, and I end up doing a lot of solo rides as I just can't tell on any given day how good or bad I'll feel or if I'll want to bail after an hour. But by the end of November I'm still going pretty well, having only gained a few kgs. We hold a club race skills training day at Hillingdon and the 4-lap scratch race at the end turns out to be more fun than I thought. Things are looking up, and when the snow flies just before Christmas I'm out on the cross bike having a blast. Racing has gone out the window though, after a few half-hearted attempts at cross and getting too depressed with how slow I am, I decide my season is officially done, and I'm now sucking the wheels of those fit guys and girls starting their winter training periods.

Weeks 19-29
I'm feeling much better, more or less back to normal, though the weight is piling on and this is having some adverse effects. "Club run pace" is the default for me now, with the occasional burn-up at the end. Raising my stem about 2cm helps accommodate the growing bulk in my midsection, but I find myself having to reach down and physically shift my belly upwards to get comfortable on the bike as occasionally I get a side stitch or ache from the awkwardness of it. I buy an 11-32 cassette (eschewing the 11-34 thinking I'll never want a 34-tooth cog... ha ha, how naive is that!), prompting the guys at Sigma Sport to refer to it as the "maternity cassette". Nonetheless, my ego gets a shock when I end up having to get off and walk up the last 200m of steep and nasty Pebblehill Road near Boxhill. Still, it's going well and I'm actually gaining fitness back, able to do long rides of over four hours and 100km as long as I can stop to pee every hour!

In fact in March I do more miles than I have since the previous July, helped by numerous midweek "work dodgers" rides with fellow Wheelers who are off work or working strange shifts. Of course, the average speed is a lot slower and towards the latter weeks I find myself deliberately avoiding routes with steeper hills. The top corner of Coombe Road, or the steep early section of Crocknorth is about all I can manage now. It's starting to get more than frustrating being dropped up every hill, no matter the gradient, by average club run pace folks, but I can still hold my own on the rollers and flat sections. Ironically, descending becomes more fun and secure with the extra weight, not to mention faster! I'm still leading club runs but generally from 3rd wheel shouting out the turns rather than sitting on the front a lot myself. Clubmates are starting to make jokes about whether they should be prepared to deliver a baby on a ride, and any time I fall to the back of the group I'm met with concerned looks and questions of whether I'm feeling all right.

Weeks 30-?
The end of March sees me off the bike for an entire week as I juggle all the tasks of moving into a new house and getting out of the old flat. The movers come and I can barely go up two flights of stairs empty-handed let alone lift or move many boxes. It's shocking how breathless I've suddenly become, and how quickly my heart races with any small effort. Finally a few days after moving into the new house I get out for a glorious sunny ride and manage 22km/h average speed for the first hour. Three hours later I make it home quite exhausted and I have to admit my 100km riding days are over for now. Club runs now see me volunteering to lead the "newbie" ride, with its slow pace on the flats and even slower pace up the hills (I'm last up the two shallowest hills we ride -- the so-called backmarker -- and get dropped easily now on the smallest of rollers). Richmond Park laps are of the TT-course variety, avoiding both Dark Hill at Kingston gate and Test hill near Robin Hood gate. Any headwind on a hill sees me slow to a virtual crawl. Where's that 34-tooth cog I should have bought!

Worst of all, I no longer have any mental desire to work hard, and my legs feel like jelly if I do. My HR shoots up so high with any effort that I have to ease off otherwise I feel sick. It's like the first trimester all over again, only 25lbs heavier. Riding has become about getting out for some sun and fresh air, and all thoughts of power or speed or effort are completely gone. It's hard to guess what my FTP might be, but I suspect I could not hold more than 175w for an hour these days. Luckily I can diesel along at 130w for several hours still, but I'm getting less and less motivated to ride, and more and more fearful of hills. Still, I'm pretty stubborn and have yet to pull out my upright old MTB for a last-ditch resort to ride on the flat towpaths. Even as I see my CTL drop again (after hitting a max of 85 in week 29) I can't be too fussed about it. Even with the nice weather, I just don't feel like riding much anymore. Though at least I still have a few training partners left, the guys who are coming back from injury or extended lay-offs or just plain fat unfit cabbies (you know who you are!)

The final weeks
This is where it all becomes a mystery. I had said I wanted to keep riding til my birthday which would be the end of the 37th week, but that's looking like a big ask now. To be honest, I'd be happy to go into labour by then! A few weeks early is starting to look like a great plan. In the meantime I'll have to start making plans to stay active somehow. The pool is seeming most likely, and brisk walking seems to feel like proper exercise. In fact, anything but sitting on the couch feels like work...

The future
Over the past several months I've gone through the whole gamut, from riding with the strongest and fittest members of my club to riding with the weakest. It's been strange to measure myself against others and watch the slow decline in performance, knowing that a group I join to ride with will soon be saying good-bye a short while later as they leave me behind. I can only hope that the months after the baby see me progressing back up through the groups, improving the way I declined til finally I can ride with Jim again at his speed. Though of course riding with Jim again is going to mean a whole new problem to solve for both of us! But it's something I've really missed so it's worth the effort to make it happen in the future, even for just a rare Sunday. Anyone want to baby-sit?

29 weeks

33 weeks

"So how long are you going to keep riding?"

... must be the most frequently asked question of me these days when I'm out on a group ride. I guess people assume that sooner or later I'll stop, and I guess I will stop at some point. But when? Who knows? I always say in reply, "as long as I can!" then add that while I've never done gone through a pregnancy before and really can't predict what will happen, I'll continue to ride as long as I'm comfortable and healthy and happy with it. Which is true. I see no reason to get off my bike and with the days getting longer again and the weather improving, the last thing I want to do is stop riding!

The funny thing is, after a huge drop in fitness last autumn (that first trimester really kicked my ass), I've been bouncing back quite steadily. Late last summer, post-peak and post-holidays, my CTL was hovering around 100 with a few road races and a handful of hill climbs to go before taking a real break. Then I got pregnant and by Week 6 -- within two weeks of the embryo implanting itself -- morning sickness had hit and my life was turned upside down.

It was like suffering a two-month hangover. Energy I used to have disappeared, I suddenly went completely off some foods and couldn't get enough of others, training became a miserable chore (so I stopped training, though of course I kept riding), and generally I felt like crap for the next eight weeks. My CTL plummetted from 100 to 59 by mid-November and while I started to feel better around this point and managed to get out more (week 14 marked a big turning point), the bad weather and then going away for Christmas kept me from any consistent riding for a few more weeks.

In the meantime, I had lost a lot of power and had to rejig my FTP to compensate for it. Not wanting to do any proper FTP testing (and I suspect my power curve has gone a bit haywire these days anyway, what with my top end aerobic power dropping like a rock but my low level endurance dieselling along like it always has), I estimated my threshold using perceived effort and muddling with the intensity factor of various rides.

This meant my tried-and-tested 240w FTP in late September was cut nearly 15% to 210w in one fell swoop in early October (numbers from the National Hill Climb in late October, the only race I've cared about since I got pregnant, confirm this). Then from the end of November onwards I gradually gained some back, leaving me with about 215-220w these days, though I feel that may drop again as my lungs seem to become more and more encroached by a growing baby! So my PMC chart below is based on those estimates, meaning the TSS and CTL numbers will be a best estimate as well.


PMC from September til now (week 28).

I was interested right from the start in trying to stay as fit as possible throughout pregnancy, and scientific curiosity motivated me to track it as best I could. So much to my delight, about halfway through the second trimester I realised that I was getting stronger again, and actually wanting to push myself a bit harder. Within reason of course! My body simply won't let me push into uncomfortable territory for long these days anyway; I can hover happily around a sweet-spot tempo effort but any hard effort leaves me cranky and tired afterwards.

But I can still ride lots and often, as long as I stop frequently and put easy days between hard days. Last week I had a TSS of 780, putting in over 350km and 13 hours of riding, the most I've done in any week since September. And since my season's low of 56 CTL at end of December, I've managed to climb steadily back up to 75. Eventually I will have to stop riding, but if I can keep that kind of fitness going between now and then I'll be pretty happy.

Obligatory bump shot:


That silly look must be what they mean by "glowing"?


Bump in KW kit

The Year of the Bike

There's not much to write about 2010 really (have a look back through my posts throughout the year if you want specifics!) But I have to say that hanging up my running shoes between February and October to focus completely on cycling was not a disappointment. So considering I only managed a total of 120km of running this year, all the stats and figures below are cycling-only.

One thing is for sure: 2010 was the Year of the Bike for me. And I certainly savoured it, as I knew I might never have another year like it! After the kid arrives, I might manage to regain my success in racing or improve my peak power, but somehow I doubt I'll be cycling 1250km a month ever again... well maybe in my 60s. There's hope I suppose.

The geek in me always likes stats and graphs and pictures so rather than a wordy summary, here's a visual and numeric roundup of my year.

Training
Overall very consistent and steady, which surprised me as I wondered if I'd get sick of doing nothing but riding my bike. I definitely took a much-needed year off from my TT bike (it did come out for a few races but nothing I took seriously), and discovered how wonderful my 650c deep section wheels rode (and looked) for road racing. Nonetheless, my trusty and travelled Soloist has now nearly 20,000kms on it, clearly marking its position as my #1 training bike.

By the numbers:
15,166km
562hrs
90,000m climbing
367,000 calories burned


Kms per month on the bike in 2010.


A notable improvement in mean maximal average power between 2009 (dotted line) and 2010 (solid line) -- especially at the top end.


Two peaks in my season, marked by heavy training weeks in March (Lanzarote) and July (Ras Cymru stage race). Also some troughs due to illness, holidays, bad weather, and a brutal plummet at the end of the year thanks to the wonders of the first trimester. Black bars indicate top 100 rides of the year in TSS.

Racing
This year I took part in 64 races (including 4 stage races) with at least one race in every month except December. They were split pretty evenly between men's/mixed and women's-only. And only one DNF.

By the numbers:
20 road races
20 crits
13 TTs
5 cyclocross races
6 hill climbs

9 wins! (4 crits, 5 hill climbs, 1 TT)
18 podiums
29 top 10s


Average power in watts per race type. Hill climbs are definitely the toughest! I have yet to give my powertap wheel a try on the cross bike.


Interestingly, cyclocross is slower than hill climbing, my TT speeds were pathetic this year, and road racing has a much lower HR than anything else.


Steady efforts in TTs, self-preservation (lots of L1!) in road and crit racing, and a whopping 70% of hill climbs spent above Vo2max power.


The red squares denote where I travelled for races in 2010.

And finally
Knowing next to nothing about pregnancy before, I naïvely thought that everything before the "getting fat" stage would be no different from my normal life. Ha ha! Little did I know how rapid my turn from confident cat 1 racer and hill-climbing dynamo to wind-sucking and wheel-sucking (and just sucking in general) rider would be. Literally within two weeks I went from winning hill climbs to barely being able to push my watts over threshold. Very sobering, but also quite amazing! I'm looking forward to a similar increase in power right around July of next year again....


July 2010 as the solid line, and November 2010 as the dotted. Somewhere around 15% of peak power gone in a few short weeks.

Not quite a year-end review

More of a preview of 2011 really. I'll write a year-end review tomorrow as New Year's Eve seems more appropriate for maudlin reminiscing.

So what will 2011 bring?

First off, it will bring a new addition to Jibberjim's and my little family. The two of us will become three, though to be honest, we would have been keen to double it -- who doesn't like a two-for-one, plus all the science and research fun that comes with identical siblings! (Just kidding, my monozygotic relatives!) Yes, it runs in the family. And after the horrible first trimester I had, I was frankly wishing that it was twins so I wouldn't have to go through all this again! But alas.

Between now and then (early June is the projection), I'll be trying in earnest to stay fit and healthy and give myself the best chance possible at getting back into shape afterwards, even though I know that will be hard work what with all the sleepless nights, endless feedings, sudden changes in priorities and inevitably steep learning curve I'll be struggling with. Or rather, WE. And hopefully everything between now and then stays nice and boring and uncomplicated. So far so good.

Now that I've gotten past the energy-sapping first few months, I've started to enjoy being pregnant a bit -- all this eating what I want without really caring, being amazed at heartbeats and ultrasound scans, and learning to accept the bottomless spiralling pit of my watts/kg. I'll keep riding my bike as long as I can until it's either too uncomfortable or too unwieldy to be enjoyable, and the same for running. Swimming I'm saving as my last resort for getting a good workout when all else fails. It'll also help that the worst of winter will be over before I get too big to feel human, so spring coming and the days getting longer should help with the mental health aspect.

The timing of it all turned out to be pretty ideal. I managed a full season of racing in 2010 with the small exception of the national hillclimb which in the throes of morning sickness was simply a bridge too far. If it had been just a few weeks earlier, the story might have been different. However, this does give me a goal for 2011! I won't be road racing or TTing at all, but I can probably manage to train for a few 3-5 minute hillclimbs, what with that extra bit of Vo2max that pregnancy brings. And for anyone wondering if it's advisable to continue with training during pregnancy, here are a few useful articles and studies that show how beneficial it is (to both mother and baby).

http://www.sirc.ca/sportcanada/may08/documents/Pregnancy.pdf
http://www.ideafit.com/fitness-library/the-pregnant-athlete
http://www.exercise-ball-exercises.com/exercise-and-pregnancy.html
Not to mention an entire book that says you don't have to keep your heartrate below that arbitrarily-devised 140bpm or stop running/riding/living during pregnancy!
Exercising Through Your Pregnancy by James Clapp

Most of all, we're very excited and looking forward to our new little athlete and all the fun and joy he or she will bring. First teeth, first words, first bike... you know how that goes!

Catford and Bec Hill Climb reports

Living in London means that popular local events are quite well-attended, and the iconic Bec CC and Catford CC (oldest bike race in the world) hill climbs yesterday didn't disappoint. Soaring temps of nearly 20 degrees and full sunshine helped, I'm sure!

Edit: the Guardian has since showcased a cool Catford audio slideshow and London Cycle Sport featured a video by VC Elan rider Mat Pennell.

Catford climb on Yorks Hill

First up was the Catford climb, which starts with a draggy shallow bit and steadily ramps up and up to the final 200m which is grindingly out-of-the-saddle steep. I'll admit I was quite nervous before the start as the top woman's prizes were a good haul (Rapha softshell jacket and Condor-donated Mavic Huez shoes worth about £500 total). But in my good intentions to rest this week hoping for strong legs on the day, it appeared that I had actually over-rested as my legs felt terrible within the first few seconds. Ignoring the powermeter and everything but the road ahead (well, I did sneak a few looks at the elapsed time and distance before the road turned upwards), I just gritted my teeth and tried to hang tough.

As it was my first time at this race I hadn't realised just how much energy you get from the screaming Tour de France style crowds in the final minute. I'd held back just a bit too much before the finish, but when I saw the finish line with 20m to go I realised I had something left in reserve and managed to put together a good sprint for the line. In the end, this made the difference as I finished in 2:49.5, a mere 0.6 seconds ahead of the second-placed woman Juliette Clark. She wasn't to go for half an hour after me though, so that made for some nail-biting moments waiting for her result, as I was sure I hadn't done enough to win it. I was quite relieved to find that I had!

With the mini-camera mounted to my handlebars I managed to video my trip up Yorks Hill and capture the essence of the event: the narrow road, the huge crowds and my own agonised heavy breathing. Many thanks to all the supporters especially the dozen or so Kingston Wheelers who rode out to watch. At the time I could barely focus on anything but the road directly in front of my wheel, but looking at the video I realise how cool it was climbing through all those people.



Bec climb on White Lane

With the awards from the Catford race running late and my start at the Bec climb being early, I was in a rush and got to White Lane less than an hour before I was due to start. No time for a structured warmup on the turbo trainer, I headed out for a quick spin on the roads (praying for no tire punctures!) then went down to the start. This time I was determined to go off harder knowing I could dig deeper towards the top through the crowds. This climb was fairly steady at ~12% with only a steep bit in the final 100m or so.

About halfway up I was feeling the effort and stalling a bit but soon afterwards I saw Jim standing alone yelling and that spurred me to work harder. Up ahead I could see the streamers strung across the road and hear the crowds and the announcer saying I was headed their way. In my addled state (again, never having done this race before), I figured that was pretty close to the finish so I gave it as much as I could only to find that the finish was further.. and even further... and much further than I thought! After what felt like an eternity I saw the checkered board and limped across the line totally spent. But I felt 100 times better than in the morning race and knew I'd given it my all.

Again, though, I had to wait a bit to find out if I'd won, and again I only managed to snag first place woman by 0.6 seconds! This time to Deborah Percival, who had come third at Catford. Pleased with my performance and with my new power records (and hearing my name and time announced on the loudspeaker over and over as the leading woman until no other women were left), I got a nice prize packet of Rouleur hat, book,t-shirt and magazine. Oh yes, and a lovely subscription to Elle Magazine which I haven't decided yet what to do with.


Where's that finish line? (Bec pic courtesy of Sylvain Garde from Addiscombe CC)

And the stats and graphs for those who like that stuff (btw, I believe the timekeeper was a second slow on the Catford climb, for everyone of course!)

Catford

 Duration:   2:48
 Work:       57 kJ
 TSS:        9.2 (intensity factor 1.407)
 Pw:HR:       10.46%
 Pa:HR:       34.92%
 Distance:   631 m
 Elevation Gain:     79 m
 Elevation Loss:    1 m
 Grade:      12.5 %  (78 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        0 482 340  watts
 Heart Rate:   124 181 168  bpm
 Cadence:      61 115 81  rpm
 Speed:        3.8 25.7 13.5  kph
 Altitude:     117 195 156  m
 Crank Torque: 0 64.1 40.5  N-m

Bec

 Duration:   2:41
 Work:       56 kJ
 TSS:        9.6 (intensity factor 1.466)
 Pw:HR:       5.03%
 Pa:HR:       24.75%
 Distance:   616 m
 Elevation Gain:     81 m
 Elevation Loss:    3 m
 Grade:      12.7 %  (77 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        0 501 349  watts
 Heart Rate:   132 178 170  bpm
 Cadence:      52 103 81  rpm
 Speed:        1.3 22.6 13.8  kph
 Altitude:     170 247 207  m
 Crank Torque: 0 88.8 41.0  N-m

Hell Climbing, I mean, Hill Climbing Joy

(courtesy of clubmate Nick Hussey)

I sort of fancy myself a climber, though in reality I'm more of a pint-sized rouleur than a lightweight grimpeur. Still, when the road goes up I tend to do well, so what better way to top off a fine racing season than to try some hill climbing time trials?

Mistake #1: hill climbing is nothing like climbing a hill in a race. Following wheels, attacking off the front, marking others' attacks and setting tempo on the front are all completely different from the all-out lung busting effort that is a typical UK hill climb (more or less five minutes at ~10%). Rarely will you find me at my all-out 5-minute power for longer than a minute or two in a road race unless it's the final few minutes. And most importantly, the pyschological distraction and stress of other riders makes climbing at that intensity in a road race quite a bit more tolerable.

Mistake #2: pacing is pretty crucial. Going out even a bit too hard will be repaid in a thousand agonies. If the race is a short two or three minutes, you might get lucky; at least it's over quick. But for anything longer than five minutes, pacing is really important.

Mistake #3: underestimating how badly it will hurt. I've done three hill climbs now and I feel I've learned a huge amount between the first and the third, but the one thing that hasn't changed is how awful it feels while you're doing it. Proper pacing makes it manageable but that wheezing chesty cough still happens after every one. I have yet to puke at the top so maybe I'm not going hard enough though?

So what is a hill climb about? It's the most intense experience of time-trialling that exists. It's all you and nothing but you out there. The clock is ticking somewhere far away, but in the here and now it's just you... suffering, hearing your own ragged breathing, struggling to turn over the pedals, thinking how badly you're doing, wondering when it will end. If you're lucky you'll see someone ahead of you floundering even worse and use it as mean motivation; if you're unlucky you'll be overtaken by your minute man which only serves to dampen further any enthusiasm you have for hill climbing. The final seconds are a sweet respite as the sight of the finish line promises relief that this will finally be over.

But it's cruelly deceptive, as the first few seconds after the race is over are nearly more painful than the race itself. Gasping for breath, legs jellified, skin tingling, brain insisting that you never do one of these again! All of which disappear in the next minute or two leaving you feeling exhilarated and full of adrenaline. And those feelings last long enough to sign up for the next one.



Me climbing through cowbell corner at the John Bornhoft Memorial Hill Climb (courtesy of clubmate Rich Allen)

2010 Team Series Wrap-up

Two weekends ago was the final race of the Team Series, and with a hilly course suiting my strengths and several of the series' best riders away in Ireland at the Ras na mBan stage race, I was looking forward to a good result. So with a team of four strong riders we were off to Coalville to race on a chilly and windy but thankfully dry September morning.

We rolled out of the HQ, across the road and 400m later past the lap/finish line: 6 laps to go, 14.5km per lap. This was a longish race Team Series standards, but that was fine with me. Leona was behind the lead car as it pulled away, and with all the Motorpoint girls (juniors, nearly every one of them) chatting away about school, boys and whatnot, I casually made my way up the group to sit beside her. And then picked up the pace just a bit. And then decided to ride off the front ever so slightly... peeked behind and the bunch was somewhat noticing but not really.

All of sudden Emily came flying past me and I let her get a gap of 30m or so. Nobody reacted because it was so early (2km into an 87km race!) and I'm sure they thought she would come straight back to us in a minute or two. Then MaxGear's Anna Fischer -- one of the best domestic riders in the UK right now -- flew past on her way over to Emily and I decided this was a wheel I needed to jump on. I did, and we quickly reached Emily who was able to grab my wheel and the next thing I knew we were away with a massive gap. And so it stayed for the next 85kms.

First lap we pulled out a minute, second lap another minute, by the third lap that seemed to be holding (Anna's teammates policing the bunch with Leona's help, and Motorpoint not able to get anything going) and by the fourth lap there was word that two riders were 2 min behind us and the bunch was not chasing. At that point, even though we were slowing down from our original lap-times (not helped by the wind picking up), I knew we'd stay away from everyone as long as we kept working.

But my legs were not good. Emily was having a really great ride, I had been worried at first that she'd get gapped on the sharp hill before the turn into the finish-line draggy straight, but she hung on. And did more than her share on the flats and into the wind. Anna did quite a bit too, in fact I felt like I was the weakest of the three of us at times, struggling a bit with an upset stomach from early that morning and legs threatening to cramp up. Frustrating, but I could live with it.

In retrospect Emily and I should have been attacking Anna on the last lap, taking turns at it, but in the moment we didn't really have our plan organised and frankly I wasn't convinced we could beat Anna anyway. Emily selflessly sat on the front most of the last lap and when Anna attacked going up the hill before the final corner I went with her for about 5 seconds til my legs said "no way" and my brain stupidly said "2nd place is fine" so I came in about 100m behind her with Emily another 100m behind me. Not a bad result really, though of course now I'm annoyed with myself for giving up the win without a fight!


Looking rough at the halfway point (from left: me, Anna, Emily) (courtesy of race organiser Nick Horner-Maddocks)

But the best was yet to come... after the finish we turned around to go back and watch the other riders come in. I was curious who the 2 riders between us and the bunch were and much to my delight it was Leona with a giant grin on her face, having outsprinted her break companion to come 4th! Mathilde ended 11th, rolling in with the next group as the bunch had split again at some point. So that meant top team was us, Surrey League. All in all a pretty successful day and a satisfying finish to the end of my road race season. Great rides by Emily and Leona made for 3 happy girls on the long ride home.


Leona and her break partner Maxine Filby working together (courtesy of race organiser Nick Horner-Maddocks)

Later we learned that with our strong finish at Coalville, we managed to leap over the Rapha Condor team in the overall standings into 3rd. A nice way to end the season and it showed that consistent performances are just as important as stand-out performances when it comes to a season's overall results (see the series report on British Cycling's site).

End of Summer Vacation

Okay, so I haven't written for a while... call it a summer vacation. It's now well past summer as a glance outside at the dark pouring rain would show, so back to blogging.

Lots of news to share, starting with the London Women's Cycle Racing League prize presentations last night. It was a great event, hosted by Look Mum No Hands of course. We, the Kingston Wheelers, did quite well with teammates Sabine and Emily picking up 5th and 7th place respectively, with Emily also getting the Most Combative Rider award. Having held on to my 1st place through July and August, I won the overall and KW as a team finished in 3rd. We all left with more cash than we arrived with, and some nice prizes too. All in all a pretty successful night!


From left: Emily, Lise, Maryka, and Sabine (Hillary absent) (courtesy of Dave Hayward and London Cycle Sport.)

Jerseys and Suffering

The Etape de la Defonce stage race in Wales went pretty well, all things considered; I'll write a proper blogpost about it later with pics and data. I came home with what I'd hoped to get, which was the women's GC leader's jersey and prize. It wasn't easy as strong Welsh rider Ang Mason was also there, but with the help of my teammates I gritted my teeth and got it done.

At a particularly low moment in the first road race, it occurred to me that cycle racing is just an adult verison of those games you play as a kid, the "who can suffer the most" games. Stuff like holding your breath for the longest time, who cries uncle first when someone's punching your arm, who's the first to chicken out of a head-on collision with another kid on a bike. Everything else being more or less equal, it isn't fitness that tests the best riders, it's nerve and determination and ability to suffer. Mental toughness as it were. Sadists, the whole lot of them!

On a different note, I've now worn four different jerseys this racing season.

From left to right:
-- my home club the Kingston Wheelers
-- the Surrey Cycle Racing League, our women's team for Team Series and other team races
-- the London Women's Cycle Racing league leader's jersey (which I currently hold but could lose at any time)
-- the Etape de la Defonce ladies' overall winner's jersey (which I technically never wore to race, but no matter).

Good legs

Funny how it only takes a few days of good riding to feel happy again about being on the bike. My saddle sore has recovered and I'm over whatever mysterious illness I had a week ago at Hog Hill (blinding all-day headache stupidly compounded by riding 50km to get to the race through the dustiest smoggiest part of east London) which left me dropped from the lead group on the bell lap and struggling for a 7th place finish.

Sunday saw me at the Team Series race in Melbourne, Derbyshire, one of the more hilly races on the calendar and thus suiting me well. With three of us from the Surrey League team in the front group of 18 (it was a race of attrition more than attacks) and the other two in the second group, we managed three top-12 finishes and fifth place overall team. Considering my form and preparation wasn't the best, I was pretty happy with the result against a strong field with several big teams represented.

Monday's ride saw me in Richmond Park under the guise of recovery, but my legs despite being a bit fatigued were awesome and I actually stopped to recalibrate my powermeter because I thought it was reading too high! Two clockwise laps in under 45 min and 195 watts... so much for recovery.

Tuesday's Palace race was off due to the wet course, but I was commissairing anyway and we ran the kids' races on the top circuit instead. I had opted to drive the car for some stupid reason and learned my lesson there: nearly 30 min longer than it takes to ride my bike! Never again.

Then yesterday was our club 10 TT, this time a 2-up team event though I had asked permission to run a 4-up with Leona, Emily and Lise as training for this weekend's Etape de la Defonce stage race. I headed out early to the hills to get a few more miles in my legs and to my surprise the supposed southwest headwind felt like a tailwind. And my powermeter must have been off again too, as the watts were reading a bit higher than the effort would have said. Nope, all good... so there I was, gliding up the hills and flying along the flats, trying to hold back a bit for the TTT but my legs would have none of it. Until the puncture of course, but that just gave me more reason to haul it along the A25 to get to the club 10 signing-on in time.

The TTT itself went very well, we took the first half steady (again I noted the lack of headwind and wondered how the return leg would go). When we turned around to come back, there was no wind there either and we caned the last few miles in a very smooth through-and-off for a respectable 24:34 time -- all of us on roadbikes with not a stitch of aero gear.

Siting in the car on the way home, I mused that it had been one of those rare days when there's always a tailwind, the hills seem flatter and riding a bike is just plain fast. It was the anti-Shut Up Legs day. We cyclists often moan about the omnipresent headwinds, the steep hills, the crappy road surfaces, etc. but yesterday was just the opposite for me. Seems my legs are coming back nicely. Dare I hope for a good result at the race this weekend?


(Click the pic to order one of these t-shirts from the Cycling Tips blog)

Unscheduled Downtime

My dwindling fitness graphically portrayed, thanks to some unscheduled downtime.

After our 10-day monster training camp in Lanzarote in early March (blog post about that still to come), I carried some pretty great form and fitness straight through til the Bedford stage race two months later. Well... to be fair, that form was starting to get somewhat ragged around the edges by then, and as a former "big event" triathlete I wasn't quite sure what to do about it. My years of training until this year have been based on the train hard, train harder, train so hard you're dead, taper/rest, then race schedule that I really had no idea how to approach this week-in week-out constant training and racing. How does one maintain fitness without too much fatigue and still have good form for races? So after Bedford I decided the best way to hang on to my form yet stay fresh was to forego the weekly long rides and stick mostly to shorter stuff, either as races or faster training rides. After all, the longest non-TT race I'll do this year will be less than three hours, so why the need for 100 mile training rides?

So with a CTL hovering nicely around 110 and TSB plus or minus a few digits, I settled in these past few weeks to that plan. And while it seemed to be working in terms of freshness and fatigue balancing into some semblance of form, I still was missing that zip in my legs that I had back in mid-April. I wasn't awesome when I wanted to be; form in races seemed to come and go when it felt like it. Thursday night handicap AKA training race? Great performance! Southeast road race divisional championships? Meh. Crystal Palace saw me relying more on good position and timing than on good legs, and the National 10 mile TT last weekend could barely garner FTP watts. What to do?

Then, a crash a week ago Friday (bringing with it some unwelcome road rash and bruises) made the link between my body's fatigue and freshness even more tenuous, and finally last Tuesday the saddle sore I'd been carefully nursing for the past few weeks was no longer a minor annoyance. So as a result I've been off the bike for six days with at least another two to come before I dare try my luck matching arse to saddle again.

I've been trying to find a bright side to this as I watch my CTL drop like a stone with every passing day, now below the level it was when I finished the training camp in March. And I think it's this: downtime isn't necessarily a bad thing. The timing isn't catastrophic. I'm not truly sick or injured, so building my fitness back up shouldn't be an issue. My peak from the last major build came about six weeks later, and looking at the calendar, the same timing now should mean good form for the Essex Giro national series race at the end of July. So in the end I think I've answered my question about form and fitness and how one races all summer long trying to hold a peak: you don't. At some point you just have to let it go, take a rest, then work to build it up again. I mean, I could race 12 months a year non-stop, but I suspect I'd just end up frustrated that I never felt 100% fresh and zippy. Some downtime, unscheduled or not, is required.

Now I just need to figure out how to make the races that count your best ones... but I have a sneaking suspicion the answer will be much the same. This is a big reason why I love cycling: there's just so much that can't be predicted, though we data geeks sure love to try.

The Boxhill Challenge or Why I'm a Big Fat Liar

According to Cycling Weekly, the 2012 Olympic road race will take place on roads I know well and love to hate, including that Alp of Southeast England, Zigzag Road up Boxhill. So popular is this little climb and the woods around it that on any given weekend the cafe at the top is overflowing with mountain bikers and road cyclists scarfing down tea and cake. The Olympic course will include at least one and hopefully more loops of the hill, and while hardly a bump in the road for pro cyclists, it will be an interesting spectacle nonetheless.

With any climb comes a challenge, and the very nature of Boxhill with its easily identified start and finish points, unique switchbacks, low traffic and promise of cake at the end means amateur cyclists like myself can't resist racing themselves and the clock to get to the top. Thus the Boxhill Challenge was born, and it's one in which I fare pretty well compared to a standard TT or Richmond Park's 3LC (three lap challenge). Climbs level the playing field for smaller riders as long as their power is high relative to their weight. I'm not a pure climber by any means, but when the road goes up I don't mind at all! The longer the better, in fact.

Boxhill Gradients

Boxhill at 2.5kms with 5% average gradient means hitting it at full-on VO2max power, bouncing over the rough road, fighting an oft-present headwind, and forcing the pedals to keep turning over when it slightly steepens. It begins as you turn into Zigzag road, sheltered from the wind, and quickly progresses to the steepest section at about 10%, though you hardly notice it if you're carrying good speed after having sprinted to get a quick start!

Turning the corner into the next switchback usually means a tailwind, much welcomed albeit short-lived, and if you have a tailwind here, you're guaranteed to suffer a headwind on the third leg. That one parallels the first and is almost fully exposed to the elements. It's the longest leg and seems to go on forever, bringing about the inevitable bargaining and promises made with oneself: "just a few more minutes, you're almost there", "keep going, at the top you can stop", and my personal favourite "once this is over, you'll never have to do it again!"

Finally the last corner comes into view, inviting a sprint to get around it as the road starts to flatten. The last few hundred yards are a frantic dash to the "finish line", which is at the carpark entrance directly across from the cafe. Gasping for air, you hit "stop" on the bike computer and try to see through bleary eyes what time you did.

While I climb Boxhill as part of my rides around the Surrey Hills quite often, I only take part in the Boxhill Challenge once in a while. My brain does a pretty good job at remembering those bargains and promises I made to myself the previous attempt. Of course, those promises fade into lies, as I always find myself climbing Boxhill full-tilt not two months later, gasping and struggling and cursing the clock, the hill, the road, myself and all the other people who think it's important to race up Boxhill and test themselves, then post their results to motivate everyone else.

And my result? Yesterday's effort -- with a rare but favourable tailwind from the NW -- clocked 6:19 at 297 watts, more than 10 watts higher than my previous best and only one second off my best-ever time (set with my TT bike last September). In fact, I smashed my previous best road bike time by 14 seconds and set a new five-minute peak power record. And of course, I lied to myself that I'd never have to do it again, but in a month or two I'll be back again to see if I can break 300 watts and get closer to six minutes.

Boxhill Climb (297 watts):
 Duration:   6:19
 Work:       113 kJ
 TSS:        16.6 (intensity factor 1.255)
 Norm Power: 295
 VI:         0.99
 Pw:HR:       6.46%
 Pa:HR:       0%
 Distance:   2.487 km
 Elevation Gain:     185 m
 Elevation Loss:    60 m
 Grade:      5.0 %  (125 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        133 479 297  watts
 Heart Rate:   149 186 178  bpm
 Cadence:      75 112 93  rpm
 Speed:        13 35.5 23.6  kph
 Altitude:     61 190 132  m
 Crank Torque: 15.3 53.8 30.5  N-m

Crystal Palace 2010, Race 5

Having missed round 3 because I was helping as assistant commissaire and round 4 because I was recovering from Bedford, after Sunday's disappointing race at Hillingdon I was eager to burn up the tarmac at Crystal Palace last night. We got another good field of women out with 15 on the start line, though with the warm weather it seemed every 3rd and 4th cat guy in London was there as well. The average speed turned out to be faster than usual and 25 laps made it the longest so far, at just under an hour.


Such a close finish! This pic was taken a few metres before the line (courtesy of London Cycle Sport.)

We started out easily enough but within a few laps Natalie from Twickenham had come to the front to start pushing the pace. This dropped a handful of riders from the group, and spurred on by Charlie from Cyclefit, Natalie and I put in some attacks to try and get a gap. We never really managed to get away, but did manage to tire some legs, and with about 10 laps to go we were down to seven riders. Attacking more at that point seemed futile as the fracturing of the other races meant we had to endure group after group of men overtaking us (though we overtook a fair few men ourselves).

On the final lap, Natalie -- doing too much work on the front as usual! -- was pushing the pace with my KW teammate Emily on her wheel, followed by Emma P from the Dynamos (the only sprinter left in the group at that point) and me. I tried to time my now-customary bid for freedom on the hill so that Emma was out of position and couldn't jump on my wheel, but I think I was slightly overgeared as I hit the steepest bit of hill and felt like I was stalling. I managed to keep her to the outside on the bend but knew it was a losing cause as she quickly overtook me, leaving me with no option but to get on her wheel and settle for second. Or so I thought. Fifty yards before the line, she was labouring a bit, and I thought "could I? can I? actually win this?"

I stood up, found my legs keen to give it a try, dug in with everything I had and almost magically found myself coming around her left side. I nearly ran out of road but just nicked my wheel in front of hers in time. The few seconds afterward weren't ones of celebration but instead a mix of shock, disbelief and nausea as I tried to recover from what was apparently a massive effort; I hardly ever feel pushed right to the limit of being sick in a race. Power numbers show new peak watts for 45 to 55 seconds, so clearly I was working hard!

So it's the most exciting win yet in my short-lived racing career, but maybe not one I'll be able to repeat often as my typical "jump with a minute to go" must be looking old hat to the others! The good news is that Emily came in a strong third so I think we've got some more KW cards to play in the future. It'll have to wait two weeks though, as next week I'm back to my role as assistant commissaire.

Entire workout (197 watts):
 Duration:   55:30 (55:58)
 Work:       657 kJ
 TSS:        99.5 (intensity factor 1.037)
 Norm Power: 244
 VI:         1.24
 Pw:HR:       7.2%
 Pa:HR:       1.52%
 Distance:   33.053 km
 Elevation Gain:     726 m
 Elevation Loss:    727 m
 Grade:      -0.0 %  (0 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        0 716 197  watts
 Heart Rate:   118 187 171  bpm
 Cadence:      38 182 99  rpm
 Speed:        0.6 63 35.7  kph
 Altitude:     73 99 87  m
 Crank Torque: 0 89.6 18.6  N-m

Pack Fill redux

Last year I wrote about my first men's cat 3 race, a great experience where I was happy to finish in the bunch though upon reflection I knew I was just pack fill. And I thought to myself at the time, "enough of this! from now on I will ride at the front, attack when I can and make a difference in my races!" Ha ha.

To be fair, I haven't done a bad job at this, at least in women's races. In men's races my prime objective is to 1) hang with the front group as long as possible, followed by 2) not get dropped by the main bunch, and 3) get a really good workout and test my limits. But in women's races, my aims are higher. Obviously, I'd like to 1) win, but failing that, I'd be happy to 2) get on the podium, 3) make the break, or 4) do something memorable. Sunday's Hillingdon Grand Prix women's race was one of those where I did none of the above, and my mediocre performance led exactly to what it deserved: a mediocre result.

Well, maybe I'm being a bit hard on myself. It was a national series race, which turned out to contain half the elite riders in the country, most of the Olympic Development Team, plus various world track champions past and present. The course is the least technical around, with wide sweeping corners and barely 5m of altitude change per lap. In fact, it's the very same course that lulls average 3rd and 4th cat men each week into believing they are good racers because they can hang onto the bunch for an hour "saving themselves" for a finishing sprint they have no hope of winning. And I'm all of 5-foot-2 and 53kg, with a nearly-middle-aged crash-wary body, lacking the drive to claw my way up the bunch for what would be at best a 15th place finish in the final sprint. So my only hope in such a race is to attack early and often, try to get a gap, try to get someone to join me, and hope we can stay away.

But did I do that? No. I watched and waited, saw a few other strong riders try to make a break for it and told myself "if it sticks, I'll bridge". It never stuck and they always came back. The primes every few laps did nothing to help us there, as the big sprinters -- also strong riders -- knew they'd make an easy £20 every time if they kept it together. Why work harder than you need to?


Two girls take advantage of a couple of lapped riders to make a go of it, what I should have been doing.

With two-thirds of the race gone, I had moved up to the front fifteen in the bunch in preparation for another prime, wondering if this would be the one that opened a gap and divided the bunch into two. And it almost happened, six of the strongest contenders went for the prime and kept going, and I instantly knew I had to join them, now or never. So I dug in, sprinted away from those behind me and made sure nobody was on my wheel, got over to the six girls... just as they sat up. The End.


Where's Maryka? Safely in the middle of the bunch! zzzz

Ten laps later and I, deflated and jaded, lacking any motivation to have a go myself and no longer wanting to fight to maintain my position in the bunch, had drifted back to 30th or so for a while. Then two laps to go and I wondered if I took a flyer off the bunch at the bell, would I be allowed to get a gap and maybe ride away with it, everyone thinking I'd blow up long before the finish? Probably not but at least I'd come away accomplishing #4, something memorable. But it was too late, I was well back and there was no way I'd get up the bunch in time to try it. And the bell went and I rode around at a slightly higher speed and effort than I had most of the day but made up no places and rolled in for 33rd in the end. Power numbers read 180 watts average and 205 watts normative power -- far from what I can do in a 68 minute race.


Just another easy day on the bike from the look of it. You have to look pretty far down to the bunch to see me on the right-hand side. Oh yes, the girl crossing the finish line is already 11th.

Lessons learned:
-- crits are not my thing
-- non-technical crits are definitely not my thing
-- position maintenance is incredibly mentally tiring
-- it's hard to unleash a sprint from 30th place and achieve anything
-- next time I should just put my entry fee directly into the pockets of the prime and race winners and not bother racing! and just hit the pub instead.

I can see, however, that crit racing would definitely appeal to some kinds of folks, and frankly I'm surprised that I don't bite harder on them, what with my background as an ice hockey player. Contact sports, I love 'em! But somehow contact with people on expensive bikes going all out at 50km/h with nothing but hard asphalt to answer to if a mistake is made doesn't quite entice me the same way. I'll stick to the hills I think.

Epilogue:

At least my day, mediocre as it was, ended with me and my bike upright. Not so lucky for Rapha's CJ Boom who was part of a 3-rider crash and lived to tell about it. Best wishes to her and to Cassie Gledhill who came off the worst and was taken away by ambulance (she's home now with broken ribs and shoulder injury).

Racing as Training

Thursday night was the weekly Surrey League handicap race. These offer a great option on the midweek racing menu around London, as they take place on rolling 3-4 mile open road courses rather than the usual short closed circuits. The "handicapper" (usually Keith Butler, founder of the Surrey League) sets up the groups and the times between them depending on the course and which riders show up.

The make-up of each group varies from night to night (Keith has a good memory for names, faces and abilities!) but usually the first group to go consists of new 4th cats, ladies and 4th vets. The second group has weaker 3rd cats, 3rd vets and more experienced 4ths and ladies, the third group has the stronger 3rd cats, the fourth group is the 2nd cats, and the scratch (last) group contains all the elites and 1st cats. The groups are set off in order with gaps of up to several minutes between, meaning each group has to try both to catch the groups in front and stay ahead of the groups behind. On any given night, nobody knows how generous the handicaps will be, who will work together well enough to stay away, or how long it will take to be caught by the groups behind. Makes for some very interesting racing!

Tactics are basic but ruthless: the faster groups try to sprint past when catching the slower groups to prevent anybody from jumping on the train, while the slower groups try desperately to latch on and keep going. Within each group, it's an unspoken agreement to work together, but sandbaggers can expect to be attacked. Groups are often as small as eight riders. With nowhere to hide, and everyone with a vested interest to work together to catch/keep from the other groups, it's one of those "push your limits or get dropped" kind of races. Just what some of us need to get in a great night's training, as I could certainly never ride 30 miles so hard on my own the way I can in a handicap.

What's interesting about handicap races on the open road -- where you often can't see a group you're catching until mere minutes before you catch them -- is how little shelter it offers the rider who's used to hiding in a 60+ rider bunch. In the early laps, most people will come through and take a turn on the front, but as the laps pass and legs tire, often it's down to only a handful of riders doing all the work while the rest are doing their best to conserve energy and hang on. Sharp corners, rolling hills, accelerations as other groups come past and unexpected gaps opening up all contribute to that stretching elastic effect til suddenly you look around and realise that half the group you started with is off the back. This is when some riders are confronted with the brutal truth that a good Surrey League handicap race exposes: just because you can finish in the bunch at Hillingdon week after week doesn't mean you're a strong rider! In fact, I would say that not only are handicaps a much better way to use racing as training, they are a good test of true fitness. And they will expose your weaknesses in racing like nothing else.

To illustrate my point, here are a few diagrams taken from WKO+ from recent men's races I've done. The first is Hillingdon during the winter series, a 3rd cat men's race. The second is Goodwood, a pan-flat windy circuit, also a 3rd cat men's race. And the third is last night's handicap at Accommodation Rd. out by Longcross. All three races I felt that I put in some effort, but was still well within myself. Note how much less time is spent essentially freewheeling in the handicap, and how much more time is spent sprinting and at VO2max level!


Hillingdon, January 2 2010


Goodwood, March 28 2010


Accommodation Road handicap, May 13 2010

Oh yes, a race report!

In last night's race I started in the second group and it was quickly apparent that I was one of a handful of stronger riders in the group. We worked together reasonably well but it was only two laps before we were caught by Jim's group (the third group), who had quickly pared themselves from ten to four riders by the time they caught us. Most of my group managed to latch on, though the speed had now increased and some people (who had already disappeared from the front a lap before) were struggling. They got some respite as we caught the leading group on the road of 4th cats, many of whom also managed to join the back of our group thanks to a car that slowed us at the wrong moment. A lap went by, then an attack at the front saw the group split briefly at the corner-plus-draggy-hill section and I was on the wrong side of it. But seeing Jim and fellow KWer Damien in the group ahead, I was content to let them go and not chase -- especially when nobody came around me to help!

We caught them back up by the next corner after the downhill though, and it stayed that way for another half-lap until the scratch group came steaming through, which included a strong rider in Jim's original group who had been caught napping when the four of them had attacked. The acceleration from the scratch group saw most of my original group and all of the 4th cats dropped, with only four of us left (not coincidentally the four who had been taking the most turns before being caught by Jim's group). I looked around and realised I was the caboose on the train, and though I knew I needed to move up the line of riders, with the tailwind and speed I just couldn't and sadly hit the next corner still at the back. I tried desperately to come out of the corner and hit the hill hard, but as that was the prime attack spot on the circuit, attack they did and off the back I went. As I did, I overtook two riders from my original group as they blew themselves up trying to stay in touch, and ended up 100 yards behind the main group -- now the front group on the road -- as they rode away.

The last guy left from my original group joined me and we worked together to try and stay away from whoever was left behind us, which we managed for another lap and a half. Then just as we hit the bell lap, the rest of the scratch and 2nd/3rd cat riders who had been dropped from those groups earlier on caught us up and I spent the final lap in a group of a dozen riders again. On the final hill to the finish, I managed to come around a few of them who either gave up or blew up and I ended around 20th or so. Not bad for an evening's training! Damien ended up in the points at 8th and Jim 11th, while former Wheeler Luke was 5th.

Below is the hardest lap out of the eight we did, lap 3 when Jim's group joined us. Note my FTP at 235 and how I spent much of the time above it! My peak 1-sec, 5-sec, 10-sec, 2-min, 5-min and 10-min were all in this lap.


The hardest lap

Lap 3 (0:09:04.04):
 Duration:   9:03
 Work:       119 kJ
 TSS:        16.5 (intensity factor 1.045)
 Norm Power: 245
 VI:         1.12
 Pw:HR:       -11.92%
 Pa:HR:       10.83%
 Distance:   6.011 km
 Elevation Gain:     84 m
 Elevation Loss:    84 m
 Grade:      -0.0 %  (0 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        0 741 219  watts
 Heart Rate:   154 184 175  bpm
 Cadence:      31 159 101  rpm
 Speed:        16.9 68.6 39.9  kph
 Altitude:     35 72 52  m
 Crank Torque: 0 87.9 20.3  N-m

Entire Race
 Duration:   1:16:51 (1:17:41)
 Work:       951 kJ
 TSS:        123.7 (intensity factor 0.983)
 Norm Power: 231
 VI:         1.12
 Pw:HR:       5.35%
 Pa:HR:       1.49%
 Distance:   48.081 km
 Elevation Gain:     666 m
 Elevation Loss:    665 m
 Grade:      0.0 %  (0 m)
  Min Max Avg
 Power:        0 741 206  watts
 Heart Rate:   85 184 170  bpm
 Cadence:      31 196 99  rpm
 Speed:        4.5 69.6 37.5  kph
 Altitude:     35 72 52  m
 Crank Torque: 0 87.9 19.6  N-m

The P2SL Project

As most people who know me know, I love my Cervélos! My trusty Soloist, aka the Stealth Bike, has racked up thousands of miles as my bombproof all-season road and racing bike since I bought it new in May 2008. And the P3C is one of the most aerodynamic TT frames ever made, a perennial favourite on the Ironman scene. Alas, once the P3C arrived last June, my P2SL -- the first Cervélo I owned -- was reduced to mere frame and forks and relegated to a bag under the spare bed, awaiting a possible future as a fixed-gear track bike. So despite owning three Cervélos, but only two were ever fully-built and rideable. Until recently.


2008 Cervélo Soloist Team, 48cm

Jim and I had signed up for a couple of hilly Surrey League road races at Easter, but a persistent squeaking sound finally attributed to worn-out bearings meant his Powertap wheel would be at the repair shop over race weekend. With a 700c Powertap wheel on my Soloist and a 650c Powertap wheel on my TT bike, we had two Powertap wheels we could race with -- true data geeks would rather not race than be without a Powertap! -- but only if I built up the P2SL frame into a road race bike. I'm proud (embarrassed?) to say we had nearly all the spare parts lying around the house to do that, with only a front derailleur needed.


2006 Cervélo P2SL, 48cm

So I set about it two days before the first race, spending some time first studying the Cervélo geometry pages, then lining up the Soloist against the P2SL to try and replicate the position as best as possible. The first test rides revealed the need for a longer stem (and more comfortable saddle) but in the end I'm so glad Jim's Powertap died when it did, because without that impetus I might never have thought to put drop bars on the P2SL and race it. Instead, I now have an amazing little road machine that tops even the Soloist in agility and quickness. And it's pretty damned aero to boot.

Various smaller women, including 4'11" American elite racer Kerry Litka, have extolled the virtues of 650c wheels on their bikes, and I would never disagree when it comes to TTing, where aerodynamics and a short headtube and low front end are of utmost importance. But I was a bit hesitant to dive headlong into racing a bike with uncommon-sized wheels in important road races. Even Cervélo Test Team pro rider Emma Pooley, who rode 650c in 2005 as an amateur, now rides 700c as a pro (albeit 650c on her TT bike).

Emma at the Bedford Stage Race 2005 on a tiny Principia, photo by Paul Brown

Emma at the British Championships 2009 on a Cervélo S3, photo via Cycling Weekly

In a world where everyone else is on 700cc, it's clearly a distinct disadvantage to be riding a odd-sized wheel, even for someone with a team car following the race! But so far I've found it's not too bad. Convincing reluctant neutral service car drivers to carry my wheels for me is a bit of effort, though fortunately I've not needed to use them. I either race for myself or as one of the top riders on my team, so the likelihood I'd need to give up a wheel to a teammate is slim -- and if I were to do a race in support of another rider, I'd be happy to ride 700c just in case. And on longer rides I stick with the slightly less aggressive and more comfortable Soloist, which means I can share spare tubes with my riding companions if need be.

Here's what my two bikes looked superimposed on each other. Notice the steeper seattube on the P2SL (it is a TT frame after all), horizontal toptube and slightly slacker fork angle. I've still got some spacers under the stem which I'm hoping to remove over time so I can get even more low on the front end (the Soloist would need an lower-stack headset to get any lower). Both bikes have compact cranks, but the P2SL has an 11-23 cassette while the Soloist has a 12-27 for getting up those steep hills I train on but never seem to see much in races.


48cm Soloist (grey) vs 48cm P2SL (black)

The biggest difference I've found is the quicker acceleration with the smaller wheels, particularly on hills. There's also no toe overlap like I have on the Soloist (an unfortunate side effect of proper geometry on a small frame with 700c wheels). I've since added 165mm cranks to the Soloist to try and improve both of those things, but I definitely notice a zippier and more frisky feel to the P2SL. At the same time, it seems to hit bumps harder and roll less happily over rough ground, which I attribute to the smaller wheel size (similarly to the way 29er mountain bikes are supposed to handle bumps more easily). Not sure if this is actually true or just my subjective feeling?

Some more pics of the P2SL alone and lined up against the Soloist:

Giro d'Holland, er, Italia

Image by Gigilla83 at Wikimedia Creative Commons


This weekend the Giro d'Italia begins, otherwise known as "official summer cycle racing season". It starts in Holland this year, with the prologue in Amsterdam on Saturday, then Sunday's stage running in and around my old stomping grounds the Utrechtse Heuvelrug to finish in the Utrecht city centre. We had initially planned to be there to watch the stages in person, but between working out the logistics (ferries, lodging, bike storage), predicting the weather (cold and possibly rainy) and recovering from last weekend (which only ended on Monday night), we decided to give it a miss. We'll probably head there for a warmer sunnier July visit instead.

Nonetheless, the next three weeks will mean Giro fever around here and on the Kingston Wheelers forum. I'm planning to catch a few stages at the new Look Mum No Hands cycling cafe in central London, but mostly I'll be watching the stages at home: studying the attacks, watching the way the race plays out and seeing how well the teams cope with the pressure of protecting a leader's jersey or trying to win a stage. A rougher and more ruddy-cheeked sibling to the slick Tour de France, often seeing snowy conditions and gravel roads, the Giro is stage racing at its raw best.

I've even selected a team on Velogames, though historically my sports pool teams have done quite poorly! Maybe this year that will change.

Type	Name	Team	Value
all-rounder	Christian VANDEVELDE	GAR	8
all-rounder	Vincenzo NIBALI	LIQ	14
climber	Carlos SASTRE	CTT	20
climber	David MONCOUTIE	COF	12
sprinter	Andre GREIPEL	HTC	10
gregario	Linus GERDEMANN	MRM	8
gregario	Sebastien HINAULT	AG2	6
gregario	Ignatas KONOVALOVAS	CTT	6
wild card	Alexandre VINOKOUROV	AST	16

With 100 points to play with, I took a gamble on Vandevelde, that Dutch-named American, coming into form sooner than he thinks. Sastre is my sentimental favourite and Gerdemann is hopefully ready to burst forth with his huge talent. And Vino of course as the wild card, because hey, the guy really is a wild card.

Much better cycling fans than I write much better previews and reports of pro racing, so I won't even bother to try that here. Check out the very excellent Podium Cafe instead for day-to-day Giro chat and in-depth analysis. And Velonews for the news, results and interviews.