You know what they say if it's not on Strava it didn't happen đ
Of course it counts only joking
The 2023 Half Century (50km or 50m) Challenge Chatzone
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Of course it counts only joking
UphillSlowly
Making my way slowly uphill
I wrote a proper blog about my Maratona Experience. Copied and pasted below in case anyone interested, as this is probably one of my homes on Cycle Chat. Not sure it fits in A Sportive Thread or Adventure.
The start - La Villa
Breakfast at 4:30am, I was up at 3:00am. Well actually, I hadnât really been to sleep, to be honest. I had been up to the toilet two or three times throughout the night. Kept feeling too hot in the ultra-insulated ski chalet in July. Anxiety had kept gnawing away at my stomach. Better to get down to the start pen early to give me a better chance of making the cut off for the long route, I thought.
After the 5.5km freewheel down the start there was an hour to wait with 2,000 other cyclists, while the Italians played bad rock music, interviewed Mr Pinarello and said a prayer for everyone. Perhaps some divine intervention would be needed for me as I hadnât felt very hungry at breakfast. Probably just nerves, I thought.
Passo Campolongo 5.5 km, 315 m elevation at 5.7%. Time: 33:08
The initial climb of the Maratona, is a warm up. Itâs not the easiest categorised climb, but it comes so early it is inevitably cold. Itâs also ridden twice, so the first time up it really is a warm up for later in the ride. The most striking thing about the Passo Campolongo the first time round was the sheer volume of riders around me. The roads were rammed as the helicopters broadcasting the event live on TV swirled overhead. I wish I had been able to eat more at breakfast, but hopefully the nerves would settle soon.
Passo Pordoi - 9.2 km, 625 m elevation at 6.8%. Time: 1:05:20
I saw two amazing cyclists on the Maratona. Both of them overtook me. One had only one leg, his left and was pedaling better than I was. The other had had a below knee amputation and was using two pedals, but one with a prosthetic lower leg and foot. Nothing like a dose of perspective when you are feeling sorry for yourself.
My own minor disability would be brought into focus on the Passo Pordoi. I am extremely short sighted (-10.5 in both eyes, if that means anything to you). So much so that without corrective lenses I would legally be partially sighted. Coupled with the fact that I am in my late 40s it means that I wear varifocals. Having had issues with contact lenses and bits of tree lodging themselves in my eyes when wearing my regular glasses, I have, in recent years, opted to wear a helmet with an integrated visor, with the aim of protecting my eyes.
It does make me look a little bit like a mushroom, but that is the price I pay to protect my peepers. On the Passo Pordoi I attempted to elegantly remove my buff, over my helmet, the visor knocked my glasses and one side of the frame just fell apart and my left lens fell out onto the road. Obviously I was not going very fast, so I was able to pull over, run down the slope a few metres, pick up the lens and then set about trying to repair it by the side of the road.
The small screw next to the left arm of the glasses had come loose. My toolkit, although extensive for a cyclist, didnât have a dainty enough screwdriver to repair spectacles. Luckily I had some gaffer tape wrapped around a CO2 canister, so I used this to bodge together some sort of repair to hold the screw in place and allow me to at least be able to see my left hand side for the rest of the ascent and subsequent descent.
The very nice mechanic at the bottom of that particular pass happened to have a âpiccolinoâ screwdriver and fixed my glasses, tightening the other side as well, just in case. He gave my glasses a polish with his rag and smiled me on my way as I thanked him in broken Italian. The rest of the ride was now brought into focus.
Passo Sella - 5.5 km, 419 m elevation at 7.6%. Time: 41:55
I had never really gotten over the feeling that I didnât really belong here. Not just in the sense that there were only a handful of non-white riders like me, but because I didnât really fit like I fitted in with many of the Brits who were on the trip. The locals riding just seemed to be in a whole different class. It is somewhat disconcerting to realise that the chap on the Pinarello next to you is riding uphill, whilst on the phone and not holding onto his handlebars. This just built on my sense of insecurity that had taken hold thanks to the snatches of conversations that I had heard over the previous few days.
âYes, well I found that when I was riding in the Pyrenees three weeks ago that organic ceramic chain wax was essential for the long uphill sections, so much more than when I did Mallorca 312.â
Passo Gardena - 5.8 km, 237 m elevation at 4.0%. Time 33:08
I had lost my appetite the night before the Maratona. I had not been sleeping well in the exceptionally warm ski chalet. I kept waking up at night feeling rather hot. Almost as though I had a fever. My anxiety had made my reflux worse, and I had a scratchy feeling in my throat. I was drinking OK, and had only stopped to sort out my glasses. I had avoided the food stops in the first 55 km, to give myself the best chance of meeting the cut off time at 76 km to be allowed to do the long route, the full 138 km. I kept myself going with a handful of cola bottles that I had bought from Venice Airport, but didnât feel able to eat properly until I was over 5 hours into the ride. Those nerves were really taking their time to settle.
Passo Campolongo (again) - second time 26:59
With the Sella Ronda completed, 55 km with nearly 1800 m of elevation and 4 mountain passes ticked off, it was time to refill the water bottles with the Love Velo crew in Corvara. I wasnât feeling great, perhaps in part due to the lack of sleep, my inability to fuel and my nerves, but I had an hour and 20 minutes to make it to the cut off at 76.3 km which would determine whether or not I was allowed to try the long route. I had never really considered that I might need to do the intermediate. But maybe I just wasnât as good a cyclist as I thought I was.
So, it was up over the Passo Campolongo again. It felt a little bit easier the second time round, and the crowds on the road were beginning to thin out. One thing I had noticed was that my front disc brake had become exceptionally noisy compared to the acclimatisation ride a couple of days ago. It sounded like a very loud mechanical asthmatic donkey braying every time I touched the brake levers. But, I wasnât going to stop and check it. I was on a tight schedule, and besides, I didnât really have a clue about disc brakes.
Perhaps I should have asked the mechanic who fixed my glasses to have a look at the brakes as well, because a spoke detached itself from the front hub half way down the descent from Passo Campolongo, causing a worrying whirring, flicking noise. Great. What else could go wrong?
I stopped at a roundabout, looking for a mechanic, but a lovely spectator could see what the problem was. He grabbed my broken spoke, bent it into some weird shape, then worked it round and round, until he had unscrewed it from the rim. He pushed the nipple in and told me to lift the front wheel up. The wheel had remained true - so he said it was fine and to carry on.
The mechanics were round the corner. It was actually the same one that had fixed my glasses after Passo Pordoi.
âDo you want new wheel?â he asked me.
âIs it OK to ride with this one?â I wanted to know.
âIs OK. Just not so fast down the hill,â he grinned with a thumbs up, after checking again whether the wheel was true.
Cut off at 76.3 km
The Maratona is a figure of 8 course. You can choose to do one of three rides. Just the first loop is known as the Sella Ronda, and with the run in from La Villa is about 55 km long, with 4 mountain passes. The second loop has two variations, both include the second ascent of the Passo Campolongo, one gives a ride that is 108 km in length with 3100 m of climbing, but the full Maratona Experience is 138 km long with over 4000 m of climbing (depending on what your cycle computer decides on the day).
At some point the closed roads need to be opened again by the organisers, so a cut off time to be allowed to do the full route is announced in advance. Having set off at 6:40 am, I had until 11:45 am to reach the turning point for Passo Giau, at 76.3 km. I got there with 9 minutes to spare and took the turning, without hesitating. After all, itâs why I signe up.
Passo Giau - 9.4 km, 898 m at 9.5%. Time: 1:54:08
One of the results of putting a group of cyclists together before a big event is that they all talk about cycling, all the time, and mostly they talk about the bit of the ride that worries them. Anxiety feeds anxiety and the main topics of conversation for the last few days had been making the cut off for long route and how to tackle the Passo Giau. This climb is âHors CatĂ©gorieâ, which means it is beyond categorisation. Although I had trained hard for the event, really hard, in a structured way for 9 months, I had only had the chance to ride up Category 2 climbs. There are no Category 1 or Hors CatĂ©gorie climbs in the UK. My first Category 1 climb ever was the Passo Pordoi (where I broke my glasses) about 2 hours earlier. The Passo Giau is another level, the hardest road climb in the Dolomites according to the PJAMM website.
About 2 km into this brutal climb I dropped my water bottle and had to stop to pick it up. It was the only time I stopped over the almost 2 hours it took me to grind my way to the top. In fact the only other time I had stopped on a climb during the ride was to try to repair my glasses on the Passo Pordoi. I have an issue with climbs and stopping. I donât want to be beaten. I have done half of the 10 hardest climbs in Britain and have managed to get to the top of all of them, so far, without putting a foot down. Pushing myself to reach the top I realised that I was prioritising achievement over experience. Perhaps it has always been more important to me to achieve than to enjoy myself at the time. Type 2 fun, over Type 1.
Passo Falzarega/Valparola - 11.5 km, 637 m at 5.5%. Time 1:24:09
The roads had been reopened some time ago, and after a quiet descent off the Giau (my brakes were no longer howling in protest) and there were barely any other cyclists around me, it was time for the last categorised climb of the day. The one that no-one really thinks about, an afterthought to Passo Giau. Needless to say it just seemed to go on forever. The spoke nipple continued to tinkle away in the front rim, on the uphill sections.
They were starting to dismantle the barriers and food stations at the top of the Falzarega, as I crawled up the final slopes. A few glasses of coke and my first taste of some local ham and cheese sandwiches. Perhaps the nerves were settling as my appetite seemed to be coming back.
Mur dl Giat - 0.3 km, 46 m elevation at 12.4%. Time 3:22
One of the longest and loveliest downhill sections from the top of the Passo Valparola gave me a bit of time to reflect on the final challenge of the day, the âCat Wallâ a short stabby, UK-style slope that was renowned for its brutal slope and ability to grind cyclists to a halt after 130 km. It is one of the fanzones, not that I would have known, as the inflatable arch and the fans had all been deflated and packed away, with just a few tourists meandering around. A single woman clapped me as I floundered up to the top. But I didnât put my foot down.
The Red Lantern
I was so slow that they had switched the timing off by the time I reached the finish. The official site only has the time it took me to get to the Mur dl Giat at 132 km. Maybe the last 6 km didnât really exist. I was the British âLanterne Rougeâ, rolling over the finish over 10 hours after I started. I didnât get a certificate, but did manage to get one of the last medals before dropping off my bike to the lovely Cycle Transfer chaps, who were blissfully close to the finish.
I couldnât believe how much I had misjudged this event. How arrogant had I been to think I might be able to do this? How could it have been so hard?
Sausage and chips (though I still wasnât feeling that hungry) in a virtually empty hall was followed by a trudge in socks up to the chalet. Felt very spaced out and not even a cup of tea helped to make me feel better. I still didnât have much of an appetite at the late dinner and packing felt almost as hard as the Passo Giau. At least I would sleep well that night.
Another sleepless, restless, hot and sweaty night. Overnight I had felt really thirsty and my scratchy throat had given way to a cough. The coach didnât seem very good at keeping its temperature. It seemed really cold, then really warm. The airports were very warm and had me really sweaty at one point. I managed a couple of sandwiches over the course of the 12 hour journey home via coach, two flights and a taxi. The taxi driver actually asked me if I was OK when I almost coughed myself off the seat.
âYes, fine, just very tired.â
A positive experience
Then it all made sense. The suffering made sense, with the appearance of two pink lines on the lateral flow test, as my temperature tipped over 38 degrees and my throat closed up with the sensation of barbed wire. The loss of appetite, the loss of power, the sleepless nights and the scratchy throat all explained. I had accidentally done the Maratona with COVID-19. Fortunately, I had placed more emphasis on the achievement, rather than the experience and perhaps the training wasnât all in vain.
Having an event that would stretch me to my limit helped to provide me with focus and clarity about my riding and training for the months leading up to it. Without the target I could have been somewhat aimless, likely tending towards riding too much and moping and grumping when I couldnât get out for a ride. But the focussing of everything onto a single day in July meant that there were too many things that could have gone wrong; the best laid plans potentially undone by broken glasses, a broken spoke, nerves and poor sleep, imposter syndrome or simply a virus with a reputation of wreaking havoc.
The start - La Villa
Breakfast at 4:30am, I was up at 3:00am. Well actually, I hadnât really been to sleep, to be honest. I had been up to the toilet two or three times throughout the night. Kept feeling too hot in the ultra-insulated ski chalet in July. Anxiety had kept gnawing away at my stomach. Better to get down to the start pen early to give me a better chance of making the cut off for the long route, I thought.
After the 5.5km freewheel down the start there was an hour to wait with 2,000 other cyclists, while the Italians played bad rock music, interviewed Mr Pinarello and said a prayer for everyone. Perhaps some divine intervention would be needed for me as I hadnât felt very hungry at breakfast. Probably just nerves, I thought.
Passo Campolongo 5.5 km, 315 m elevation at 5.7%. Time: 33:08
The initial climb of the Maratona, is a warm up. Itâs not the easiest categorised climb, but it comes so early it is inevitably cold. Itâs also ridden twice, so the first time up it really is a warm up for later in the ride. The most striking thing about the Passo Campolongo the first time round was the sheer volume of riders around me. The roads were rammed as the helicopters broadcasting the event live on TV swirled overhead. I wish I had been able to eat more at breakfast, but hopefully the nerves would settle soon.
Passo Pordoi - 9.2 km, 625 m elevation at 6.8%. Time: 1:05:20
I saw two amazing cyclists on the Maratona. Both of them overtook me. One had only one leg, his left and was pedaling better than I was. The other had had a below knee amputation and was using two pedals, but one with a prosthetic lower leg and foot. Nothing like a dose of perspective when you are feeling sorry for yourself.
My own minor disability would be brought into focus on the Passo Pordoi. I am extremely short sighted (-10.5 in both eyes, if that means anything to you). So much so that without corrective lenses I would legally be partially sighted. Coupled with the fact that I am in my late 40s it means that I wear varifocals. Having had issues with contact lenses and bits of tree lodging themselves in my eyes when wearing my regular glasses, I have, in recent years, opted to wear a helmet with an integrated visor, with the aim of protecting my eyes.
It does make me look a little bit like a mushroom, but that is the price I pay to protect my peepers. On the Passo Pordoi I attempted to elegantly remove my buff, over my helmet, the visor knocked my glasses and one side of the frame just fell apart and my left lens fell out onto the road. Obviously I was not going very fast, so I was able to pull over, run down the slope a few metres, pick up the lens and then set about trying to repair it by the side of the road.
The small screw next to the left arm of the glasses had come loose. My toolkit, although extensive for a cyclist, didnât have a dainty enough screwdriver to repair spectacles. Luckily I had some gaffer tape wrapped around a CO2 canister, so I used this to bodge together some sort of repair to hold the screw in place and allow me to at least be able to see my left hand side for the rest of the ascent and subsequent descent.
The very nice mechanic at the bottom of that particular pass happened to have a âpiccolinoâ screwdriver and fixed my glasses, tightening the other side as well, just in case. He gave my glasses a polish with his rag and smiled me on my way as I thanked him in broken Italian. The rest of the ride was now brought into focus.
Passo Sella - 5.5 km, 419 m elevation at 7.6%. Time: 41:55
I had never really gotten over the feeling that I didnât really belong here. Not just in the sense that there were only a handful of non-white riders like me, but because I didnât really fit like I fitted in with many of the Brits who were on the trip. The locals riding just seemed to be in a whole different class. It is somewhat disconcerting to realise that the chap on the Pinarello next to you is riding uphill, whilst on the phone and not holding onto his handlebars. This just built on my sense of insecurity that had taken hold thanks to the snatches of conversations that I had heard over the previous few days.
âYes, well I found that when I was riding in the Pyrenees three weeks ago that organic ceramic chain wax was essential for the long uphill sections, so much more than when I did Mallorca 312.â
Passo Gardena - 5.8 km, 237 m elevation at 4.0%. Time 33:08
I had lost my appetite the night before the Maratona. I had not been sleeping well in the exceptionally warm ski chalet. I kept waking up at night feeling rather hot. Almost as though I had a fever. My anxiety had made my reflux worse, and I had a scratchy feeling in my throat. I was drinking OK, and had only stopped to sort out my glasses. I had avoided the food stops in the first 55 km, to give myself the best chance of meeting the cut off time at 76 km to be allowed to do the long route, the full 138 km. I kept myself going with a handful of cola bottles that I had bought from Venice Airport, but didnât feel able to eat properly until I was over 5 hours into the ride. Those nerves were really taking their time to settle.
Passo Campolongo (again) - second time 26:59
With the Sella Ronda completed, 55 km with nearly 1800 m of elevation and 4 mountain passes ticked off, it was time to refill the water bottles with the Love Velo crew in Corvara. I wasnât feeling great, perhaps in part due to the lack of sleep, my inability to fuel and my nerves, but I had an hour and 20 minutes to make it to the cut off at 76.3 km which would determine whether or not I was allowed to try the long route. I had never really considered that I might need to do the intermediate. But maybe I just wasnât as good a cyclist as I thought I was.
So, it was up over the Passo Campolongo again. It felt a little bit easier the second time round, and the crowds on the road were beginning to thin out. One thing I had noticed was that my front disc brake had become exceptionally noisy compared to the acclimatisation ride a couple of days ago. It sounded like a very loud mechanical asthmatic donkey braying every time I touched the brake levers. But, I wasnât going to stop and check it. I was on a tight schedule, and besides, I didnât really have a clue about disc brakes.
Perhaps I should have asked the mechanic who fixed my glasses to have a look at the brakes as well, because a spoke detached itself from the front hub half way down the descent from Passo Campolongo, causing a worrying whirring, flicking noise. Great. What else could go wrong?
I stopped at a roundabout, looking for a mechanic, but a lovely spectator could see what the problem was. He grabbed my broken spoke, bent it into some weird shape, then worked it round and round, until he had unscrewed it from the rim. He pushed the nipple in and told me to lift the front wheel up. The wheel had remained true - so he said it was fine and to carry on.
The mechanics were round the corner. It was actually the same one that had fixed my glasses after Passo Pordoi.
âDo you want new wheel?â he asked me.
âIs it OK to ride with this one?â I wanted to know.
âIs OK. Just not so fast down the hill,â he grinned with a thumbs up, after checking again whether the wheel was true.
Cut off at 76.3 km
The Maratona is a figure of 8 course. You can choose to do one of three rides. Just the first loop is known as the Sella Ronda, and with the run in from La Villa is about 55 km long, with 4 mountain passes. The second loop has two variations, both include the second ascent of the Passo Campolongo, one gives a ride that is 108 km in length with 3100 m of climbing, but the full Maratona Experience is 138 km long with over 4000 m of climbing (depending on what your cycle computer decides on the day).
At some point the closed roads need to be opened again by the organisers, so a cut off time to be allowed to do the full route is announced in advance. Having set off at 6:40 am, I had until 11:45 am to reach the turning point for Passo Giau, at 76.3 km. I got there with 9 minutes to spare and took the turning, without hesitating. After all, itâs why I signe up.
Passo Giau - 9.4 km, 898 m at 9.5%. Time: 1:54:08
One of the results of putting a group of cyclists together before a big event is that they all talk about cycling, all the time, and mostly they talk about the bit of the ride that worries them. Anxiety feeds anxiety and the main topics of conversation for the last few days had been making the cut off for long route and how to tackle the Passo Giau. This climb is âHors CatĂ©gorieâ, which means it is beyond categorisation. Although I had trained hard for the event, really hard, in a structured way for 9 months, I had only had the chance to ride up Category 2 climbs. There are no Category 1 or Hors CatĂ©gorie climbs in the UK. My first Category 1 climb ever was the Passo Pordoi (where I broke my glasses) about 2 hours earlier. The Passo Giau is another level, the hardest road climb in the Dolomites according to the PJAMM website.
About 2 km into this brutal climb I dropped my water bottle and had to stop to pick it up. It was the only time I stopped over the almost 2 hours it took me to grind my way to the top. In fact the only other time I had stopped on a climb during the ride was to try to repair my glasses on the Passo Pordoi. I have an issue with climbs and stopping. I donât want to be beaten. I have done half of the 10 hardest climbs in Britain and have managed to get to the top of all of them, so far, without putting a foot down. Pushing myself to reach the top I realised that I was prioritising achievement over experience. Perhaps it has always been more important to me to achieve than to enjoy myself at the time. Type 2 fun, over Type 1.
Passo Falzarega/Valparola - 11.5 km, 637 m at 5.5%. Time 1:24:09
The roads had been reopened some time ago, and after a quiet descent off the Giau (my brakes were no longer howling in protest) and there were barely any other cyclists around me, it was time for the last categorised climb of the day. The one that no-one really thinks about, an afterthought to Passo Giau. Needless to say it just seemed to go on forever. The spoke nipple continued to tinkle away in the front rim, on the uphill sections.
They were starting to dismantle the barriers and food stations at the top of the Falzarega, as I crawled up the final slopes. A few glasses of coke and my first taste of some local ham and cheese sandwiches. Perhaps the nerves were settling as my appetite seemed to be coming back.
Mur dl Giat - 0.3 km, 46 m elevation at 12.4%. Time 3:22
One of the longest and loveliest downhill sections from the top of the Passo Valparola gave me a bit of time to reflect on the final challenge of the day, the âCat Wallâ a short stabby, UK-style slope that was renowned for its brutal slope and ability to grind cyclists to a halt after 130 km. It is one of the fanzones, not that I would have known, as the inflatable arch and the fans had all been deflated and packed away, with just a few tourists meandering around. A single woman clapped me as I floundered up to the top. But I didnât put my foot down.
The Red Lantern
I was so slow that they had switched the timing off by the time I reached the finish. The official site only has the time it took me to get to the Mur dl Giat at 132 km. Maybe the last 6 km didnât really exist. I was the British âLanterne Rougeâ, rolling over the finish over 10 hours after I started. I didnât get a certificate, but did manage to get one of the last medals before dropping off my bike to the lovely Cycle Transfer chaps, who were blissfully close to the finish.
I couldnât believe how much I had misjudged this event. How arrogant had I been to think I might be able to do this? How could it have been so hard?
Sausage and chips (though I still wasnât feeling that hungry) in a virtually empty hall was followed by a trudge in socks up to the chalet. Felt very spaced out and not even a cup of tea helped to make me feel better. I still didnât have much of an appetite at the late dinner and packing felt almost as hard as the Passo Giau. At least I would sleep well that night.
Another sleepless, restless, hot and sweaty night. Overnight I had felt really thirsty and my scratchy throat had given way to a cough. The coach didnât seem very good at keeping its temperature. It seemed really cold, then really warm. The airports were very warm and had me really sweaty at one point. I managed a couple of sandwiches over the course of the 12 hour journey home via coach, two flights and a taxi. The taxi driver actually asked me if I was OK when I almost coughed myself off the seat.
âYes, fine, just very tired.â
A positive experience
Then it all made sense. The suffering made sense, with the appearance of two pink lines on the lateral flow test, as my temperature tipped over 38 degrees and my throat closed up with the sensation of barbed wire. The loss of appetite, the loss of power, the sleepless nights and the scratchy throat all explained. I had accidentally done the Maratona with COVID-19. Fortunately, I had placed more emphasis on the achievement, rather than the experience and perhaps the training wasnât all in vain.
Having an event that would stretch me to my limit helped to provide me with focus and clarity about my riding and training for the months leading up to it. Without the target I could have been somewhat aimless, likely tending towards riding too much and moping and grumping when I couldnât get out for a ride. But the focussing of everything onto a single day in July meant that there were too many things that could have gone wrong; the best laid plans potentially undone by broken glasses, a broken spoke, nerves and poor sleep, imposter syndrome or simply a virus with a reputation of wreaking havoc.
Attachments
Is Walton hill as big as the Passo Giau ?
UphillSlowly
Making my way slowly uphill
Not as such đ§
Noodle Legs
Winging it
- Location
- Coalville, Leicestershire
July done.
Made a last minute decision to head out, if only to clear my head a little bit. Itâs been an extremely stressful few weeks for me and the combination of ridiculous work hours, moving house and getting used to just being on my own has been quite difficult to process and this week took its toll. It was only when I stopped after moving in that I realised how knackered and ill I was, clearly the last month Iâve been running on pure nervous energy and come this past Thursday my burnout was such that I just switched off my phone and shut down, not wanting to speak to anyone or even be around anyone. And I left it off for two days. Apparently itâs burnout đ€·ââïž
I managed to muster up enough energy today to get out in this lovely weather and Iâm glad I did. It was a fairly flattish route over to Uttoxeter (completely flat on the way back) and I stopped off at Starbucks for a coffee at the services by the A50. The repair I did to my rear tyre three weeks ago decided to bite me in the a55 and the all too familiar hiss and subsequent spew of luminescent goo returned. Turns out the plug I put in didnât quite hold out and I had to put two more in to stem the leak. It held enough pressure to get me home and I now have the task of ordering a new tyre, although Iâm very reluctant to use continental againâŠâŠ
31.2 in 1:48.
Made a last minute decision to head out, if only to clear my head a little bit. Itâs been an extremely stressful few weeks for me and the combination of ridiculous work hours, moving house and getting used to just being on my own has been quite difficult to process and this week took its toll. It was only when I stopped after moving in that I realised how knackered and ill I was, clearly the last month Iâve been running on pure nervous energy and come this past Thursday my burnout was such that I just switched off my phone and shut down, not wanting to speak to anyone or even be around anyone. And I left it off for two days. Apparently itâs burnout đ€·ââïž
I managed to muster up enough energy today to get out in this lovely weather and Iâm glad I did. It was a fairly flattish route over to Uttoxeter (completely flat on the way back) and I stopped off at Starbucks for a coffee at the services by the A50. The repair I did to my rear tyre three weeks ago decided to bite me in the a55 and the all too familiar hiss and subsequent spew of luminescent goo returned. Turns out the plug I put in didnât quite hold out and I had to put two more in to stem the leak. It held enough pressure to get me home and I now have the task of ordering a new tyre, although Iâm very reluctant to use continental againâŠâŠ
31.2 in 1:48.
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Hopefully things will settle down now @Noodle Legs as you settle in . Good on you on getting out ,good for your mind
Got out early for the best of the weather .Flew out but struggled back into the headwind . Fed up with the wind now ,can't believe in July and I have to check the weather app for a 2 hr window before I get wet
bluenotebob
Veteran
- Location
- France
Started out this morning only needing 37km to pass 7000km for the year. A gentle 17km potter on the Princess before lunch, then I loaded the road bike in the van, drove to Mauron and cycled down to the Lac au Duc at Grancastel, just north of PloĂ«rmel. Back to the van with another 39km done, so I can justify that large slice of chocolate/cherry tart thatâs waiting for me in the fridge.
A couple of photos from this afternoon...
Hortensias (hydrangeas) at Grancastel
On the Voie Verte, just south of Trégadoret
A couple of photos from this afternoon...
Hortensias (hydrangeas) at Grancastel
On the Voie Verte, just south of Trégadoret
Domus
Guru
- Location
- Sunny Radcliffe
First ride for two weeks thanks to bad weather and a bad back which has turned into sciatica in my left leg. Tried the bike this morning and was quite surprised to find riding was not painful at all, just getting on and off resulted in sharp pain. 53 dry and windy Kms with good clear views over the West Pennine Moors and a tasty bacon on toast in Rivington certainly cheered me up after a rough week or so.
Off cruising the Baltic next week so that's all for July.
Off cruising the Baltic next week so that's all for July.
ColinJ
Puzzle game procrastinator!
- Location
- Todmorden - Yorks/Lancs border
I was out this evening to recce a variation for the forum ride that I have organised for the weekend. I had intended to head straight back to Todmorden afterwards but I was enjoying myself so I decided to extend my ride up the long*** Cragg Vale climb to Blackstone Edge. That is not a tough climb but there is often a cross/headwind impeding progress up on the moor. It was like that tonight - a right slog!
I had toyed with the idea of extending my ride further once I got back to Todmorden, to get a '50' in but the wind picked up and the sun was setting. I thought about calling in at home for my lights and going back out, but... I didn't really fancy it. A shower, food, and the Tour de France highlights show seemed more appealing!
I'll still try and get a 50 done for July, but the weekend forum ride will count anyway. It will be about 70 km and I can't see me adding another 30 afterwards to qualify for one of my Lunacy Challenge metric centuries instead.
*** BY UK standards - 8 km/5 miles
I had toyed with the idea of extending my ride further once I got back to Todmorden, to get a '50' in but the wind picked up and the sun was setting. I thought about calling in at home for my lights and going back out, but... I didn't really fancy it. A shower, food, and the Tour de France highlights show seemed more appealing!
I'll still try and get a 50 done for July, but the weekend forum ride will count anyway. It will be about 70 km and I can't see me adding another 30 afterwards to qualify for one of my Lunacy Challenge metric centuries instead.
*** BY UK standards - 8 km/5 miles
Well, we're in for July. Not been a very auspicious year so far - and a minor medical procedure at the end of last month put this month's ride in jeopardy. But got back on the bike, somewhat gingerly, on Thursday morning, and managed a fairly gentle 53k ride on familiar roads.
Noodle Legs
Winging it
- Location
- Coalville, Leicestershire
Another point. Nipped out after work for a spin on the Diverge as my Domane is off road pending new tubeless tyres, the next make of which I cannot decide on.
Was hoping my mood would be lifted a little bit after what has been yet another sh*t month but it wasnât.
Iâll be glad when this year is over (or something else- whichever comes sooner.)
Anyway, 32 on the money in 1:59.
Was hoping my mood would be lifted a little bit after what has been yet another sh*t month but it wasnât.
Iâll be glad when this year is over (or something else- whichever comes sooner.)
Anyway, 32 on the money in 1:59.
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