The art of fighting without fighting......

"Don't do it Alberto, don't do it......."
The words have left my mouth before I can even stop them. I'm so engrossed in the moment that I can't control myself.
I'm on Alpe d'huez, i've just put in a massive effort to stay with the leading group and now that cocky little shit is going to ruin it just like Andy Schleck tried in Liege 20 minutes ago.
Ok, back to reality now. I'm in the living room, on the turbo, in front of the TV with a massive fan struggling to keep me cool as I give it my all to "Beat my ass today so I can kick theirs tomorrow." Welcome to the Sufferfest........
I used to struggle to motivate myself to train. I'd get on the turbo and don't really know what i'm doing so just whir my legs for 30 minutes and then get off. I might as well go running for the good an effort like that would do for my cycling.
What's the answer? That's the question I continually used to ask myself until I stumbled across an advert on a website offering me pain, misery and suffering in the name of sporting success. I wanted it. I wanted it bad.
It was the first step to a faster stronger ride. A simple click and a Paypal payment later, I was downloading Downward Spiral - the first in the line up of 4 releases from the Sufferfest.
That was almost 12 months ago now and here I am trying Angels, the latest offering from the suffer god.
So, what's it like? Brutal, painful and a little bit sadistic. Exactly what you need from a training video. I'm not pretending that training videos are as great as riding or racing on the road because nothing beats the adrenaline of a race but they do offer the next best thing when the weather or time are against you. These videos are only as good as the effort you put in though so be warned. If you want to mince about and not give it your best shot, you will get nowhere and won't benefit from the routine.
I like to give it my all until my nose runs, my thighs pack their bags to leave me and my lungs wish that I smoked so that I could submit them to less suffering. It's brilliant. I get lost in the moment and for an hour I believe that I am everything that is great in racing. When something hurts this much, it must be doing some good.
The efforts are well structured and do a great job of offering just the right amount of effort, making it hard but not impossible. A thumping soundtrack mixed with the recovery and exertion efforts really bring the whole experience to life.
I can't wait for the next installment from The Sufferfest. I'm hoping it's some sort of constant time trial effort with a thumping dub step soundtrack. That'll be nice. Sparticus could do with being brought down a peg or two and as for Wiggins, he should be quaking in his Bonts....

The Commute

I don’t have the luxury of cycling to work as it’s only a 7 minute walk (used to be less but my fitness has dropped remember). I have to find different ways to amuse myself on my journey into the office. One such way that doesn’t risk arrest is to make up names for the same people that I see daily.
I guess it’s a similar situation for everyone who starts work at the same time everyday, you get to share pavement with the same old folk day in, day out.
Everyone has certain character traits or oddities, most of the people I pass tend to look pretty normal with a few exceptions:

Lady Bookworm – This woman should be locked up for her risk to public health. She is always walking along holding a book up in front of her face. How good must a book be to risk safety and stepping in dog poo for? Just once I want to see her walk into a lamppost. Why can’t you just buy an Ipod like everyone else?

Mr Mincer – The lanky gay who can walk perfectly normal most of the time but loves to put on a prance and a pout as soon as a man walks by. Get it into your head, we don’t care which way you swing, you just look like a twat.

The Train Rusher – Nothing is gonna stop this guy getting the train. His body style is arched perfectly so that outstretched arm holding his briefcase acts as a wing. I think the side to side wiggle is a waste of vital milliseconds but it does make you walk like Will from The Inbetweeners. Bravo.

Smokey Joe – I see smoke signals before I see you and to be honest every day I see you is a surprise considering you suck on that cigarette like your life depends on it. I’m just glad to step around your volley of spit as you cough up your lungs.

The Hot Chick – She most definitely is not. Surely there should be a weight to skirt length ratio? Mini-skirts are great, just not when they’re barely covering two doner kebabs.

School Chum – We both know that we went to primary school together but that was when we both liked He-Man and you wet your pants. I’ll happily avoid eye contact with you for the rest of my life. Thankfully, you feel the same……

Lost

This is a plea for help. I’m wondering if anyone out there has seen my fitness because it appears to have gone missing.
We weren’t together for that long but I had become very fond of it. Our relationship was pretty slow to get going but then we had some great times together and in the end grew to love eachother. Was it something I said? Is it my fault that it left?
I keep punishing myself because I guess there’s nobody else I can blame. I had the sweetest thing going and I blew it because I went back to my old lazy ways.
Well, times are changing and I’m not gonna let it go without a fight……

5.30am this morning I was up again and on that turbo, pedalling as fast and as far as I could, in search of the missing…..

How many is too many?

During my yearly service on my mountain bike, which involves me putting it in the stand and staring at it before removing it again, I noticed a crack in the chain stay section of the frame. I went through the normal stages:

Smugness – I must really have ridden hard to crack that frame.
Joy – Wait until I tell the guys how hard I rode to crack this frame.
Love – We’ve had some good times together. I’ll miss you.
Lust – Oh, gonna get me some shiny new metal.
Reality – I hope this is covered under the warranty, the boss indoors will never agree to another bike related purchase.
Relaxation – Call to the local bike shop. Should be ok for a warranty claim. Frame covered for 5 years. Bike is 3 years old.
Opportunity – Should I get it put back to standard or have a part rebuild/singlespeed conversion?
More reality – Custom rebuilds cost money. Standard it is.

My situation got me thinking though. Is there really a bike that can do it all?

I love the speed of road bikes, it’s my favourite thing but I find myself in the situation where it’s an occasion to go out on it that involves cleated shoes and lycra and then I worry if I leave it chained up somewhere. It’s too complex too with it’s multiple gears and STI levers.

I’ve got the mountain bike (well sort of at the moment) which could be more suitable for nipping down to the shops on but it’s a bit slow and is always covered in mud and a bit heavy.

I’d like a tourer with a rack and everything so I can ride long distances and live the dream.

A practical everyday bike would suit me, a cheap singlespeed hybrid with V or cantilever brakes and one sided SPD/flat pedals, with a rack on the back. I could ride to the shops, dump it in the high street and not look back, abuse it all winter and the lack of maintenance wouldn’t matter.

But then, don’t I need a singlespeed drop bar road bike too so I can boost my fitness through winter and keep my pride and joy clean?

I’m a bike manufacturer’s wet dream.

It's July. Woo!

I have to admit, I absolutely love watching the Tour de France. It has pretty much taken over our household at the moment.
Every evening is arranged to fit perfectly around the Tour highlights.
I manage to fit in a quick blast on the bike after work, shower and then sit down in front of the telly with dinner for 7pm to watch the ITV4 highlights show. Even the kid’s bedtime has been put back slightly so that nothing is missed.
ITV’s coverage this year is pretty special. Disappointed with the lack of Ned Boulting but really enjoying watching Chris Boardman wobble slowly up the finishing straight on the sprint stages pointing out the exact spot where Mark Cavendish is likely to next cause a massive pile up.
Now, Chris is a legend in his own right but I am a little bit disappointed with his liberal choosing of which stage to feature. Why does he always favour the sprint and why don’t we see him riding up to the summit finishes to show us where Alberto Contador is going to attack from? Laziness……

So, after yesterday’s stage it’s all poised for a Contador/Schleck showdown. Shame about Cadel losing time but he’s an absolute hero for a gutsy performance with a fractured elbow. The suffering is always the most endearing part of the Tour. Cyclists give their all and perform whilst injured at a level that footballers can only dream of.

I do think that race organisers should try to shake things up a bit more next year by replacing the yellow jersey with a yellow cardigan. Primark have got them dead cheap and riders are likely to prolong the wearing of it until closer to Paris……

stolen time

The breeze feels cool on my skin as I stand with my eyes closed breathing in the air around me.
I'm standing over my bike waiting for my Garmin to acquire satellite. It's eerily quiet, something i'm not used to living in this part of London.
At last, I am found and I can set off about my business.
It's 6am on a Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep. The heat of the last few days has been unbearable. I lay in bed unable to find comfort and in the end decide that a few cool miles before the sun does it's thing is what I need.
I don't have to be out at this time, but I want to be. I'm almost excited as I set off onto the quiet roads.
I stop at a red light and look around, nobody, nothing, just me. The ordinarily busy flyover is today devoid of life. I ride in the centre of the 2 lanes as i build up some speed and take my hands of the bars, arms outstretched, eyes closed as I feel the warm sun on my face and the air on my chest. This is what flying must feel like.
The High Street is dispatched with speed as I take a left hand bend and swoop past the ponds. This feels great.
I reach the first real hill of the day and i'm transported back in time to teenage years when I last cycled up this hill. My best friend and I used to cycle this route to visit some girls we knew. Feels like a lifetime ago.
The world's starting to wake up now and a few cars are beginning to awake from their slumber.
I pass a girl running in the opposite direction. I nod and she smiles. It's as if we're both in on the secret.
My pace increases as I push harder towards home, there's a slight descent on the road and as I curl into a tuck and push down hard on the pedals I imagine myself racing, not for the win but to launch the man who's going to win the sprint. My imagination works into overdrive as my legs become a blur. I give it my all and as my legs give out their last I see him power away into the distance as I sit up and watch him cross the line, arms in the air.
I roll back into my road and give the bike a backwards glance as I tuck it away in the garage. Perfect, absolutely perfect........

Unfinished business.

It’s me again. I know it’s been a while since we last met but I’ve been struggling to get you out of my mind.
When we were first together, I think I underestimated you and didn’t quite live up to your expectations of me. I’m sorry. I wish things had been different and I had been more prepared but I just wasn’t ready.
Since we last met, I’ve thought about you often. I can’t say every day because that would be a lie but images of you have come into my head from time to time. It bothers me that I wasn’t enough for you and that our relationship failed early on.
I needed to see you again, to make things right between us…..
Click. Click. Click. I should really get this bottom bracket fixed but I’m too lazy. The sound helps to reassure me. It’s familiar and familiar’s good.
The route’s familiar too, it should be. I ride it most weeks. Today though, there is something different. The monster is back. Nemesis.

I’ve had such a great year, especially with my cycling but there’s one thing that I’ve failed at and it’s really bothered me. I tried cycling up this hill a few weeks ago and although I pedalled the whole way before, I stopped for breath and that felt like cheating. I needed to come back and clear the demons. Make right my failures.

It’s hot outside and after last night’s beers, this really isn’t the best day to try something like this but I just needed to get out. I wasn’t planning on riding Nemesis but it just sort of happened and sometimes, those days are the best.

I’m taking it easy, too much of my riding of late has been for a purpose or a goal and I’m missing the natural joy that pedalling a bicycle brings. I reach the top of Nemesis and look down at the road that I’ll be crawling up very soon. The butterflies in my stomach are back.

This is pathetic. It’s only a hill, but it isn’t. 1 mile of relentless asphalt with a gradient of 20%. It’s not about the physical anymore, it’s about what this climb represents. Success and failure. The past and the future.

I freewheel down and turn around in the cul-de-sac to the side of the road that marks the beginning of the climb.
I pause and compose myself. This is it.

My revolutions start slow and measured. I took things for granted last time and was too arrogant. I click through the gears as the road lifts towards the sky. I feel comfortable.
I’m in my bottom gear now and I can no longer stay seated. The hairpin’s getting closer, I weave left and right as I crawl up, like an ant on a lion’s back.

I pass the mark where I stopped last time and I can almost see myself there struggling for breath. How weak I looked as my chest heaves in and out. I gave up too early but that was before and this is now.
I still can’t sit down, it’s too much for my legs. I try but manage a couple of revolutions before my thighs start to burn. I want to stop, I really want to stop. This is relentless.

I know I’m getting closer to the end, I’m definitely near the end but it doesn’t take away the pain. I still want to quit but it would be stupid to now. The worst is almost over. And then, I see it. The Give Way sign that tells me I’m 100 yards from the end and this pain is nearly finished.

Breathe. Breathe. Deeper. I’m there. I’ve made it to the end of my misery.

I continue to spin my legs as I move away from the top of the hill. It’s over. I did it. The weight’s been lifted………. Finally, closure.