A bad night’s racing
So, this would be my 4th race of the season. The first was the Barnesbury Club 10, which I scored a personal best 26.45 round. The next would be the same race a week later, which I’d miss due to a dropped chain on the way to the start. The third was the Ryton Tri 2Up 18 mile TT, which Peter Schultz and I went round in 49 minutes 10. Race number 4 would be another Barnesbury Club 10, on the A1 course.
Driving from work, the weather looked nice. It was only until I got out the car at Halfords (where I encountered what can only be described as a kind of sub human life form behind the desk) that I realised it was gale force conditions. I don’t do wind. There is an argument that bigger guys fair better in the wind, but I’ve always struggled. My theory is we have a bigger surface area for the wind to effect, hence smaller, lighter people should be able to cut through the wind with more effect. That’s my take on it, anyway.
The weather wasn’t the only thing bothering me. The Felt TT bike, with all it’s fancy fixtures and fittings, was poorly. Every time I got out of the saddle on Saturday in the 2Up, there was a loud clanking and grinding noise. I didn’t want to risk death, what with the course being on the A1 and everything. So I’d be riding a bog standard road bike - although it would have the aero wheels from the Felt on it.
Warming up, I tried to work out where the wind was coming from. It appeared to be a side wind, so it might not come into play either going out on the A1 or coming back. A little test run up and down the slip road confirmed this. With no one coming to watch me this week, I warmed up for longer than the first Barnesbury 10 where I’d cramped up. No longer a member of the Vags, with no Kerry at the side of the road, and only 1 member of Cramlington CC around somewhere, it felt pretty lonely on the start line. I felt like a bit of an outsider. For some reason, it makes the pressure slightly more tangible, but without having any real goal, no one to impress - just myself and my own pride at stake now.
The timer (Peter Schultz!!!) set me off and I belted off in my usual gung ho fashion. I soon realised that without the aero bars, I was struggling to cut into the wind resistance more than usual. I tried the drops, the hoods, and even a weird “Superman” position on the tops of the bars, but I wasn’t getting aero. This would certainly affect my time.
By the turn, I was up on my previous time. By a considerable margin. No. 26 had caught me just before the turn, which meant in theory he’d beat me by 2 minutes, so I’d be on for a good result if that was the case. So, either I had had a tale wind all the way and was about to face the mother of all head winds, or I was a cycling god. As you’d expect, it was a tale wind. And just as a much as a beastly tale wind will help propel man and bike forward, it will also do a fantastic job as acting as an impenetrable barrier, especially for a “fatty”. My speed dropped to 18 mph and no matter what I did, I wasn’t going to go any faster. My race was essentially over at 6 miles.
I had been gaining on no. 24 all the way round, and by the time we were to leave the A1 up the slip road, I had nearly caught him. As we hit the incline up the slip road, I could see him rounding the corner. I was going to catch him. Then the hill bit back, my heart rate hit 198, and I went in oxygen debt. As I turned the corner, no. 24 was no where to be seen - the slip road had taken everything away from me. I looked at my Garmin, and I already knew there would be no personal best - I’d be lucky to crack 28 minutes at this rate.
The last 2 miles were awful. I’d lost momentum because of the slip road, and unlike the first time I’d raced this course, I had nothing in me to attack the last mile of flat. I span along at 21mph as a GS Metro rider came flying past me. I crossed the finish line, exhausted, miserable, and just shy of 29 minutes slow. It had been a complete disaster, even if it was just for training purposes.
I’d take some comfort if everyone else had had a bad night too, but I’d not be that lucky. Some were slower, some were acutally quicker, some were about the same. There wasn’t an overall drop in pace. It looked like the only person who’d really suffered was me. A couple of people (Carrie, Elaine, Danny and Alan) made an effort to talk to me, but the truth of the matter was I didn’t want to be there anymore. My confidence had taken a battering, as had my body and bike by the wind.
The Excuses
Lance Armstrong might well have said, “It’s not about the bike” and he is right. Mickey Mallon of GS Metro powered round in some 23 minutes on a pretty low tech bike (I’m think someone went faster, but I wasn’t hanging around the timing board in my embarrassed state long enough to find out). However, aero bars definitely would have helped my cause.
The wind certainly didn’t help. When I first came up to Uni I used to mountain bike, and one of the reasons I put on weight is because having come from inland in West Yorkshire, I simply couldn’t cope with the wind every time I was on the bike. Now, that same wind was after my blood once again.
The Pep Talk
As I sat in the car feeling sorry for myself (again), there was a tap at the window. Andy Fuller was at the car window. It would be the first time we’d speak since having a minor spat some time ago. Andy shoots from the hip, there’s no shitting around with him. If he thinks you’ve been a nob, he’ll tell you. If he thinks you’ve done well, he’ll tell you, and then call you a nob. Ironically, the one quality that had made him such a valuable friend had caused me to fall out with him previously. It was good to speak to him again. In his usual fashion, he let me know why I’d failed - and it wasn’t anything I didn’t already really know. I’d not lost the weight, I’d not followed a structured training plan, and I’d let everything slip. The reason I wasn’t going fast was because I didn’t have the power or the endurance to go fast. Sometimes, you need an Andy Fuller to give you that wake up call.
Some Calorie Counting
So far, I’ve lost the weight on my own. No dieting, no books, no support network, no weight loss clubs. But I’ve hit a plateau. A big one. I’ve not moved since before Christmas. The reason? I’ve not been monitoring what I’ve been eating, and I’ve let it slip. So it’s time to buckle down to some serious calorie counting. I’ve joined, with a little push from beloved, Weight Loss Resources - a website geared to helping people lose weight. Kerry herself lost 2 stone using Weight Loss Resources, and I’m hoping I can shift this final 3 stone using the website’s calorie counting tools and resources. That at least will address the weight loss side of this blog. As for the racing, it’s up to me to put the miles in and suffer the intervals that will get me the results I want.