Sweet revenge?

My life doesn’t just revolve around cycling you know. I’m also a fan of other sports too, like football.
It’s a bit of a love/hate relationship because being a football fan brings it’s own emotions. I’ve been an Arsenal supporter for as long as I can remember. My uncle has always had a season ticket and he took me to a few games when I was very young, back in the days of George Graham as manager, Tony Adams, David Rocastle and Anders Limpar.
I was hooked from a tender age and even though there have been times when football has taken a back seat to other things, I always like to keep an eye on how the Gunners are doing.
As with all life, football has it’s ups and downs and Arsenal have had a fair few, even though they’ve remained pretty consistent over the years and haven’t just bought their way into the top flight like certain other London teams I can mention.
I seem to go through a cycle, especially in the last few years where we’ve lacked silverware, where I start the season optimistically and then slowly get more and more depressed as the season goes on.
Tonight, Arsenal get the chance to settle old scores with Barcelona so I’m hoping that Cesc Fabregas is fit and we can get a good result to take us into the second leg.
If not, I’ll be all emotional tomorrow and declaring how “football’s too heartbreaking to watch and I’ll be focusing on cycling because Brits aren’t expected to do well on the road and so I’ll have less expectation…..”

Come on you reds!!!

A real man

Last week I watched a programme on the BBC about Mark Beaumont cycling the Americas. Mark has completed a long distance cycle journey previously, where he set the world record for circumnavigating the globe.
In years past, I was a big fan of motorcycling (I’m fickle remember) and used to enjoy watching a lot of documentaries about motorcycles, especially the travel ones as I dream of one day travelling and seeing the rest of the world.
Most people would be familiar with Ewen McGregor and Charlie Boorman and their journeys “Long Way Round” and “Long Way Down.”
I’m a bit of a fan of Ewen and Charlie but one thing used to really infuriate me. The constant whinging. They’re on a journey of a lifetime with a full support crew and all expenses paid and they’re still moaning that it’s so tough. They should just be pleased that they’ve got the luxury to do something like that while the rest of us sit and dream.
I think that’s the thing I like about Mark Beaumont, he just gets on with it. On last week’s episode, he camped rough with the threat of bear attacks (it was alright though as he had a 3 inch lock knife) and was so dehydrated that he was almost delirious. Did he whinge? Nope.
That’s the difference with cycling a trip and going by motorcycle. Self propelling your own way is a bit more fulfilling and you’re just happy when you haven’t got a hill to climb.
I’d be great on a trip like that. I like camping but would need an electric hook up so I could use all the gadgets that I’d want to take with me. I’d need a proper fold out bed too and a big thick sleeping bag. Those camping pillows aren’t that comfy either so I’d want a proper pillow, or perhaps two so that I could prop myself up to read at night. I’ve seen those portable satellite dishes too. I’d definitely need one of those to make sure I can catch Eurosport.
I would want to carry some decent food as well so I don’t get stuck eating noodles. Doing all that cycling might be tiring too, especially carrying all that stuff so I would probably be best to go by motorcycle, although if it rains, I’ll get wet. Car it is then, yeah, that will be nice. A long road trip, although the law says that I can’t drink and drive and we all know alcohol makes any situation happier.
Alaska does seem a nice place so I’ll just camp there for 6 months and drink beer, that way, I won’t need to drive anywhere and risk upsetting the local sheriff. We have beer and campsites in England though so maybe that would be a cheaper option? In fact, I do like my bed so maybe I’ll do a round the world trip indoors.
I could just pretend I’m travelling and sit on the sofa watching Mark Beaumont while I drink beer. Now, that is the trip for me.
I’d be rubbish on an intercontinental trip anyway, I’m not man enough to grow a proper beard……..

Move over Batman....

Before I started cycling, the thought of wearing figure hugging lycra was definitely something I didn’t want to be a part of. I mean, with a figure like mine, it’s like looking at a spandex-clad bag of potatoes.
Now I’ve lost a bit of weight and have spent some time looking like an extra from the World Wrestling Federation, I’m starting to enjoy it.
I can see the positive benefits of it while on the bike. There’s the lack of chafing for starters. In addition to wearing the garments, I also get to smother anti-chafing rub onto my undercarriage. Hmmm… tingly.
I can also pretend that I’m a sponsored pro cyclist to anyone I meet on the street. People generally know that if I’m wearing a football shirt in the pub, I don’t play for Arsenal but a cyclist on a bike with loads of advertising plastered over their body – they must be professional.
Although looking restrictive, lycra is pretty damn comfortable, to the point where it feels nicer than being naked. I get to the point where I’d like to just wear it around the house.
With that thought in mind, I’ve found a solution – compression lycra. I’m not sure whether this stuff actually works or whether it was just dreamt up by someone with a lycra fetish like me.
It actually gives an excuse to wear lycra around the house. I can go out for a 5 hour spandex wearing ride and then come back and slip into a clean pair of compression tights for the rest of the day to aid my recovery. Now that’s progress…….

Southern Softies Ride

Yesterday I went out for a ride with 3 of the guys I’ll be cycling to Paris with. I organised a route that had plenty of hills so that we would see some of the country lanes that Surrey have to offer.
It’s quite strange but I was a little nervous beforehand. I’m use to cycling with people of a similar standard and one of the problems when you get thrown together with a group of people is the different abilities.
I had invited a couple of club mates too as I thought “the more the merrier.”
We all met up and headed out into Surrey. Weather reports had warned of rain but we were lucky and it held off all day with some sunny intervals.
It was a pleasant route, with the exception of a few potholes and a really mean Rottweiler who threw himself into the path of us. To give the dog it’s due, there were a couple of Northerners among us and so you can’t blame it for wanting to attack. We do have a territory to defend…..
I ended up doing 65.5 miles and 5,800ft of climbing. The guys were really friendly and it was good to have a good chat. We’re all of different standards (me being the slowest when it comes to hills!) but there was plenty of time to regroup at the tops of the climbs.
Overall, I think the day was a success and it’s definitely put me at ease about going on a trip with a bunch of strangers, first impressions show indicate that they’re not axe murderers….

Keeping it in the family…..

I have a brother. He doesn’t like cycling. I try to get him into it but he just doesn’t want to know, which is a shame really because he’s got the perfect build to be a truly great climber.
Although we’re both similar in many ways (cracking good looks, charming, funny etc), we’re quite different in others. I have always struggled with my weight – ever since we were kids really. I tend to follow the broad shoulder, stocky side of the family whereas my brother can pretty much eat what he wants and stay slim.
To be honest, I always thought he was the milkman’s because I’m the spitting image of my father and he looks neither like Mum or Dad. This all changed when I saw pictures of my Dad when he was in his early 20’s. They looked identical.

Anyway, I digress. It’s quite odd really because neither one of us wants to follow the route our genetics have planned. I am working really hard to lose weight and get fit, whereas Skeletor is downing protein shakes and going to the gym to bulk up. We’re at the stage now where his “guns” are actually bigger than mine and I don’t like it. We’ve decided to have a party when we both weigh the same. It’ll be fun, you should come – there will be cake and lettuce.

Last Summer, he was staying with me for a few days so I managed to persuade him to come out on the bikes, promising a flat route with one hill as a bit of a challenge. He agreed and even seemed keen to use clipless pedals. It was a beautiful day and the ride started pleasantly enough, we talked as we rode along and he seemed to be getting on ok, managing to unclip at junctions without distress.
We hit the base of the climb and started to progress nicely, with me at the front. Half way up, I could sense he was getting impatient. He pulled alongside and asked if the brow was the top of the hill. I said yes.
In my defence, strictly speaking, it wasn’t the top but it went from a 14% gradient to a 3% gradient so although it eased, it wasn’t precisely “the crest”. I would say the challenging part of the climb ended at that point.

It was too late though and he shot off like a bat out of hell. I thought to myself, “he’s well up for this, get in there son” and upped the pace to hold his wheel.
What I didn’t realise was, that he was deep into the red zone and despite the calm exterior, he was screaming inside.
We reached what he thought was the top and then he jumped off, collapsed on the grass verge and the abuse started. Apparently, a 3% slope is not flat.

The ride home was fairly quiet and wasn’t helped by him failing to unclip his shoes when we reached the garage to put the bikes away. I don’t think I’ll ask him to come cycling with me again, especially in front of the kids……..

The weatherman’s revenge…..

I’m just full of excuses at the moment aren’t I? So, Becky Mantin and co wreaked havoc with my plans to ride the club run on Saturday with some heavy rains and we all know that if I ride in the rain I will melt.

I decided to have a bit of family time and a pyjama day. Couldn’t stay off the bike for long though and dragged the exercise bike in front of the telly to ride with the pros doing Milan San Remo. I did 60km and quite enjoyed it, mimicking how they rode. When the pros climbed – I whacked the resistance up and got out of the saddle, when they spun on the flat, I spun on the flat and I definitely contested the bunch sprint and quite possibly came second. Tom Boonen’s not as fast as he used to be.

A disappointing day then was turned around and then that left Sunday for a really nice 35 mile ride around Surrey. I felt really good the whole way round and even the Zig Zag climb at Box Hill posed little threat. One thing’s for certain though, it may be sunny outside but it’s definitely not warm enough for fingerless mitts yet……..

The art of suffering…….

It still amazes me just how little the majority of pro cyclists are paid in relation to other sports. The average, run of the mill pro cyclist earns £30,000 a year and that’s only if they are lucky enough to secure a contract.
When you look at the amount of dedication and training that goes into being a pro cyclist, £30,000 doesn’t seem like just reward when your average Premiership footballer earns £50,000 a week.
You read training schedules for cyclists and they are out in all weathers, practically every day of the year and it’s hard not to agree that it’s the toughest competitive sport.
Part of the attraction for me is the suffering. I’ll be honest, I can suffer, a bit and go back for more but pro cyclists can suffer on a whole different level.
Look at Jens Voigt in the Paris – Nice race last week. Here is a 38 year old man, absolutely punishing his body, pushing himself to keep up with Alberto Contador on a mountain that most of us would struggle to walk up, let alone cycle. Pained desperation on his face to keep the time within contention to retain the yellow jersey and claim the biggest win of his career.
It’s moments like this that keep me hooked on cycling, when you can look into the soul of a human and see exactly what it is that they are made of. See the determination in their eyes as they hit the red zone and then dig even deeper into the depths of despair for the sake of a few seconds or a stage win.
I guess that is the difference between being a professional and an amateur, you have to learn to suffer more and for longer. You have to know when your body has had enough and then use willpower alone to scream at yourself, “I will not be beaten today.”

Suffering is a beauty and art form. For me, last week, Jens was Van Gogh. Chapeau Jens, chapeau……

The sensible choice…….

So, tomorrow’s the 20th March and some of you may remember that I was going to race at Hillingdon. To cut a long story short, I’m not going to now for two reasons.
The first one being, I don’t think I’m ready yet. My fitness is better than what it was but I don’t think I’m quite at race pace yet. I have been doing some good intervals but I don’t think I am at the stage where I can race for 45 minutes to an hour and be competitive.
I don’t want my first race to be a demoralising experience where I’m riding round at the back, chasing everybody. I want to be mixing it up in the pack and dishing out some pain.
The second reason is that I still haven’t sorted out a second bike yet and I don’t want to wreck the one I have and jeopardise all the work and money I’ve put into the Paris trip.
The race bike is coming via the Cycle 2 Work scheme which only runs at certain times of year through my employers so I will have to wait a few months.
I will keep an eye on the racing calendar and target something around July/August time. Like Guns N Roses say, “all we need is just a little patience……..”

Weather permitting, I’ll be dicing with my club mates on the club run instead. It’s been a while since I’ve been out with them so it should be fun….. in a punishing sort of way.

Life Enhancements

Over the last couple of years that I’ve been cycling, I’ve gotten better at certain things. Some things you would expect, like fitness, cycling up hills and lung capacity but I don’t think they’re necessarily things to be proud of.

Some things in life are worth sharing and I love a good boast.

Blowing snot out of my nose
This is an absolute must for any fitness fan. It demonstrates that:
1) I am working hard enough that my body can’t cope with the amount of fluid that I’m creating and so I need to manually clear it myself.
2) If I wanted to, I could be at home in bed because I could pass as having a cold, but I’m tougher than that so need to be on my bike.
Blowing snot isn’t the easiest of things, it takes practice. In the early days, there could have been some times where things went slightly wrong and I could have had “snotcicles” hanging from my nostrils. I am now at the stage where I can project snot sideways for a couple of metres. Now that’s impressive.

Riding no handed
Anyone can ride a BMX or mountain bike no handed but it takes guts to ride a racing bike no handed. I once went 28mph down a hill with my hands off the bars and only last week, I managed to take a flapjack out of my pocket, unwrap it and eat it whilst in the no handed position.
My friend has the best claim though – he can change the lenses in his glasses. Show off.

Descending Hills
I don’t actually think I’ve got better at descending hills, just more reckless. I get down hills a lot quicker now. Lycra does not offer adequate crash protection so it’s best not to think about it and just let go of the brakes.

Fixing punctures
As a kid, my BMX would go whole summers languishing in a heap with a flat tyre until my Dad had time to change it. These days, I fix my own punctures and I’ve got it down to around 15 minutes, although at that time, one puncture could still cost me the yellow jersey in the Tour de France.

Eating
I thought I could eat loads before I started cycling but now, I can eat even more and have a series of excuses to back up my greediness.

Reading
WHSmith love me. I am the reason that they’re still in business. If I can’t cycle, I want to read about cycling and that means I read a lot of magazines. Maybe if I spent less time reading about cycling, I’d be better at the actual sport.

Spending
You’d think that a man riding a bike would be pretty cheap but I am on a mission to make it as expensive as possible. I buy into every gimmick and advertising ploy and love a good unnecessary purchase. Carbon fibre pedals, got them. Carbon fibre mini pump, check. 8,000,000 spare inner tubes, you bet.

Internet surfing
See “Reading” and “Spending”.

Hiding
See “Spending”. Sometimes a carefully hidden purchase prevents fallout at home. Anne Frank has a lot to learn from me.

Languages
On some rare occasions, Eurosport aren’t showing live racing and I need to know how that Belgian classic race is going. Online video sharing is a necessity for any cycling fan to get a fix. Sometimes, the commentary isn’t in English. I now understand some Flemish. Melaaiken doeiker (you sneaky bastard).

I can’t wait to see what else cycling brings me……..

Hero Worship

Cycling has always been regarded by some as being a dirty sport, where competitive human nature, the winning mentality and money collide into an ugly world of deceit, corruption and drugs.
I’m glad that as a relatively new cycling fan, I have engaged in a sport where a new dawn is beginning and the peloton, with it’s code of silence of yesterday has climbed the final col of deceit and is now on the descent to salvation.
Riders no longer feel afraid to speak out against doping in the sport and against those who will cross any line to pursue fame and glory. Even now, in this age of clean sport, there are those that still choose the dark side, such as Ricardo Ricco, a man who shows no remorse for what he did and how he once again brought shame on the sport.
For some, naïve fans like me, watching Ricco’s mountain finishes in the 2008 tour brought a shiver to my spine. The demonstration of explosive power to negate a field of athletes like that is something that few can achieve and aspire to. For other, more cynical fans, it was a moment not too dissimilar to that in football, where Diego Maradona ran directly to the TV cameras after scoring against Greece in the 1994 World Cup with a crazed look on his face, a man on the edge of drug abuse and sanity.

I don’t believe that cycling has any more drug takers then any other sport, it has just been tainted with this belief over the years, following high profile positive drug tests. If any sport’s organisation were to take doping as seriously as cycling, then the sporting world would be rife with sensationalist stories.
Football, rugby, swimming, athletics, practically any professional sport where an athlete is required to hold an aerobic capacity or muscular strength is capable of tempting athletes into taking performance enhancing drugs. Why do we not see more tests in these sports? Athletics and Olympic sports have a structured drugs programme that seems to expose the cheats from time to time. Why do we not hear of more professional footballers being drug tested? Is it because it is not in the interest of the sport or the organisations that control the game?

In my youth, football was my number one sport. At no time did I doubt the morality of the players on the pitch – is that because of careful marketing or control? In cycling I’m still too afraid to have aspirations and dreams. I watch Alberto Contador dance on his pedals up the slopes and rather than applaud his display of finesse, I find myself holding back and questioning the fact as to whether this is a true display of athletic prowess or the results of a systematic doping programme. I’m not speculating that Alberto takes drugs, you could replace that name with anyone from the pro cycling world and my statement would mean the same thing. How is it that we’ve got to the stage where in this era, I’m still afraid to have a hero and believe?

A pleasant day on two wheels

Yesterday saw the first day this year where I had a day off and the forecast was dry. I got to go out with a buddy and managed to put in a solid 65.5 miles, which is my longest ride to date.
Usually on longer runs, I hit the wall which I think is mainly down to not eating enough so yesterday I was really careful to make sure I took enough food out with me and eat regularly.
The route was nice and crossed the North Downs, into Surrey, Sussex and then back. Around 45 miles, I’d eaten most of what I had so we were pleased to see a newsagent where we thought we would pick up some food. We expected to be eating a cold Ginsters pie or something when we realised that we’d struck gold and found the only newsagent in Sussex that has a little bakery in the back!
I would say that the guy working there wasn’t the sharpest. My friend entered the shop, in full spandex, cleated cycling shoes and with helmet on, to be asked, “doing some cycling?”
I managed to get myself a nice chicken pasty and then saw that they did fresh coffee. I thought a double espresso would hit the spot. Einstein behind the counter looked at me and then the machine and said, “it’s only got an espresso button so I’ll have to do you that…..”

I educated the man, “Dude, press the button twice…….”

Subway Shenanigans

My commute to work is usually uneventful, with the exception of the odd person trying to hitch a tow. Today, I think I’ve spotted an all time low in humanity.

Walking through the subway I was astonished to see a big pile of steaming faeces. At first, I thought that someone had let their dog go but judging by (CSI fans prepare for some awesome investigation work) the smudge marks left up against the wall and the trajectory needed to leave them, I can only assume that this was left by a human squatting/crouching/leaning against the wall.

This bothered me in a number of ways. Firstly, how does someone stoop so low (forgive the pun) to actually crouch against a wall and do that in a public place?
My horror started to turn to admiration though, how much guts must someone have to pull off a stunt like that? Was it done for a joke? Were they drunk? Were they interrupted whilst doing the deed? How do you explain something like that to a passerby? What was their reading material?
I remember at school every year we had fitness tests and one such test was the ski sit. This was where you would have to crouch against the wall in the skiing prone position. I was always rubbish at it and lasted mere seconds. Our suspect must have mastered the ski sit and must have amazing thighs and leg muscles. Are they a cyclist? If not, with quads like that maybe they should be.

So if you’re the phantom crapper. Get in touch, we’ve got loads to discuss but please wash your hands first….