Eating in the saddle

Last weekends Brig Sportive threatened to be a washout with high winds and torrential rain forecast.
Certainly as we travelled to the venue you could have been excused for believing that you were in a car wash as we were buffeted from side to side whilst seemingly being emerged in large quantities of water.
However as the start time approached the aerial sprinkler system malfunctioned and the only precipitation in sight was that left behind forming large puddles along the route.

The field had been depleted by those non attenders who suffered from acute Ombrophobia- (Fear of rain or of being rained on)

As Mark and I prepared ourselves, fellow Mule Kelky and his Colleague Karen turned up to do the Shorter ride. So at least three Mule Shirts were on Parade.The course was gorgeous and well organised although the last 15 miles riding into a strong headwind caused my energy levels to tumble as dramatically as a sneezing trapeze artist.

With my Garmin telling me I had completed 98.2 miles Mark pointed out some riders behind us. These were a couple of young bucks who we had recently overtaken. They were storming up the road and closing the gap rapidly, probably incensed that some tubby veteran was going to pick up a 'ten second pride bonus' at the finish. Mark asked 'what have you got left? With only 1.8 miles to go I knew I had something in reserve and can always be relied upon to lead out when the terrain is flat. 'Don't worry about me' I arrogantly shouted as I blasted past him ramping up the pace to 28 mph. Glued to my wheel Mark shouted out words of encouragement.

After a mile I was hurting, after 1.5 miles I was totally burying myself. Moments later as my Garmin hit 99.80 miles I suddenly realised that there was no finishing line around the corner. The urban area that we were now entering was not in fact Brig but the village three miles to the south of our destination. The sudden realisation crushed me and I let Mark through, frantically trying to hold his wheel whilst yelling at him to slow down. Fortunately the young bucks were now nowhere to be seen and I was able to compose myself and wipe the froth from my mouth before we crossed the line. 100miles should be 100 miles, not F***ing 103.2

This week saw the start of our summer team training on Wednesday evening where it was good to see some new faces.

This week also provided me with over 3,000 miles for the year providing me with a great foundation for the rest of the season.

To get better and faster I now need to get leaner and lighter - my usual problem.

With a 24 hour ride looming on the Horizon its no longer a wish, its now a necessity.
Bob and I had a ride out to Millington on Saturday and stopped at the 'Ramblers rest' for a coffee, a great spot which is a favorite spot for cyclists.

Bob asked me if I wanted my customary Cake which to his astonishment I declined explaining my new ambitions

All around us were other cyclists drinking Coffee and eating cakes which were obviously baked especially for me. I watched intently my head darting from each plate to mouth, as by saliva glands went into overdrive.

Unamused I told Bob that these skinny cyclists were obliged to eat as they had no 'personal fuel' to rely on, I likened their attendance to that of a racing car refuelling during a pit stop.

Bob liked the analogy and chucked.

Developing it further I patted by protruding belly and remarked how clever I was by developing my own fuel reserves which required no saddlebag and could be secured quite nicely on the inside of my cycling jersey.

I then seem to loose the plot and pronounced that when I die I could never be cremated.

I explained that such a course of action might create a large traffic jam with a backlog of funeral hearses trying to reach the crematorium. The delay would inevitably be caused by the time needed for my fuel sacks to extinguish.

Small villages could be heated for weeks or I could be used as an exercise my the local fire brigade.

Bob who was certain that my abstract mutterings were symptoms of some hypoglycemic condition and insisted we share a muesli bar.

It was not quite a cream cake ....but it did shut me up.

Miles mean smiles

Smiles are good for you!!!!!!!!!!

It seems a long time ago since those short winter 'training days' of multiple layers and frosted fingers. Where snow lay as thick across the land as the fat did around my girth.When my weekly Target was achieving 50 miles without the desire for an oxygen tent.

When shadows were long, and even the simplest inclines seemed longer still.

When gravity helped me to zoom down hills like a rolling barrel, but hurriedly pulled me back when I attempted to go up the other side.

When I entered the gruelling 102 miles sportive 'The Cheshire Cat' in March and nearly gave up cycling for good. Oh such was the agony, and tears from constant climbing at double figure gradients

When my number 8612 on the Houston to Austin MS150 ride reflected my waist line in millimeters!!!!!!!!! When other riders sought me as a wind break as they hopped from one paceline to another, and farmers mistook me for a stray longhorn.
When I stood at the end of Photo shoots praying that the camera might miss me out or at least the lumpy parts of me.
It seems a long time ago since me and my kitchen made up and became friends.

Where it stopped stocking naughty food to tempt me or leave traps in the middle of the night.

I can now visit this room day and night without fear of ambush.

Where previously I might slip up only to dislodge some peanuts or chocolate biscuits off shelves and into my unsuspecting mouth.

Those days are gone and new days have arrived.

Miles have brought smiles in abundance.

50 miles per week became 75, 100, 150 and now I do 200 miles + a week and I get high on the endorphins that they now give me.

On my recent Flat out in the Fens sportive I was proud to pull a paceline for the first time.

By that I don't mean just for a few minutes of heavy perspiration and blowing out of my arse. (After all I had done that dozens of times)

I mean pulling for hours at a time, for miles and miles that were recorded, registered in my heart and in my legs.

I have completed 3,724 miles this year with 151,607 feet of climbing and burned 219,468 calories. I have lost 28 lbs with still more to come off.

My biggest event of the Year 'The Hotter than Hell' (100miles) only 7 weeks away I am no longer intimidated by such distances.

I look forward to it as a new challenge even if that means 100 f heat to throw into the mix.

Bring it on I say.

For me Miles really do mean smiles.

Smiles at the ability to wear clothes that look as if they were sold in a shop rather than a product from a marquee retailers.

Smiles at seeing my car gather dust and unused petrol remain in the garage forecourt.

Smiles at encouraging others to ride too and sharing the same enthusiasm that I have

Smiles at being able to see the world at a slower pace and being able to record it all by my blog site

To pinch a phrase from my favoritve cycle blog 'Change your life, ride a Bike!!!!!'

Rather than see it all as the end of a journey I see it as the start of a new one.

This week my virtual ride reaches Lexington (officially Lexington-Fayette Urban County) is the second-largest city in Kentucky and the 67th largest in the United States. Known as the "Thoroughbred City" and the "Horse Capital of the World", it is located in the heart of Kentucky's Bluegrass region. Lexington ranks 10th among US cities in college education rate, with 39.5% of residents having at least a Bachelor's Degree. It is home to the headquarters of Lexmark International, the Kentucky Horse Park, Keeneland race course, Red Mile race course, Transylvania University, and the University of Kentucky.

It is also where two well know actors hail from: George Clooney or George 'Swoony' as many women see him. I am a great admirer of his work both in front and behind the Camera. Then to balance things out there is also Ashley Judd who has occasionally entered my virtual world too, but not riding a bike.

Monday Blues can take a ride............

After my previous non-cycling week just gone, the guilt was still pumping through my veins, so 'after work' cycling was compulsory. Tonight I decided to do about 50 miles, but as fast as I could possibly go. I don't really know how it worked, but I felt like Pegasus and flew around the Holderness plain.
I completed 53 miles in all, at an average of nearly 20 mph.
I must point out though,at the end I was totally F***ed and felt quite sick.
Maybe the rest and all those sausages has done me some good after all.
After I had got my breath back, I felt euphoric, I guess a bit like how a cyclist should feel when he is running into some form.
Out of the good days and bad days that accompany cycling this was probably one of my best solo rides ever in my whole lifetime.It felt that Good !!!!!



When I saw this video it reflected everything, we can all ride a bike.

Snakes and Ladders

As the weather has gradually started to improve, I have now started getting some miles in after work. To be fair, living with an adolescent racing bike, I don't really have a lot of choice.

'Addy' (My new Scott addict) has taken to staying in the house. He positions himself in such a way, that he is facing me when I come in the front door. When I get in he looks at me expectantly. If I try to ignore him, he gives me such an unpleasant look. Subsequently I feel compelled to change into my cycle clothing.

Although I am warming to him, I cant help notice that this feeling is not mutual.

He wants to enter the Tour de France, where I want to reach my 50th Birthday without having a coronary. He acts like he got last pick in the NFL draft, and that I was a player he really didn't want.

One evening he took me down this track, where I came across an evening cycling event.

There were about 30 cyclists 'going for it'. Eyes balls bulging, hearts pounding and legs pumping like a 'nodding donkey' on speed.

Addy loved it, and when we got home he persuaded me to look at joining a local cycling club.

Yorkshire is blessed with a multitude of cycling clubs with three relatively close to me.

Beverley Velo in the town where I live, Bridlington Cycling Club over on the coast, and Hull Thursday Club In Hull.

In order to stop Addy winging all weekend, I decided that I would have a ride out with Beverley Velo Club on Sunday morning.

When the morning arrived I ambled down to the local sports centre which was the usual meeting point. Amongst the assembled riders there were a number of obvious things that instantly struck me..

1. I was the oldest person by about 15 years

2. I was the heaviest person by about 50lbs

3. I was the only one wearing shorts and a short/sleeved cycle jersey.

As we set off at a blistering pace, I mused over why the other cyclist were all covered up.

Surely it was not that cold ?

When we slowed down for some traffic, It gave me the opportunity to think properly.

The bulk of my bodies blood had been summoned by my legs. This had left all other areas to flounder, especially by brain. Finally some of it was now seeping back.

During this timely reprise, my fragmented neurological messages, had determined that my fellow riders were in fact 'Skeletons'.

I was riding with Captain Barbossa's crew who were dressed in Lycra.

I have actually seen more meat on a well chewed dog bone.

It was obvious now, they would need the additional clothing to keep their limbs together and because they had no natural bodily warmth.

I fancied if we all got stranded on the moor top, they would all vote to eat me first.
After previously feeling quite confident about my cycling ability, this was soon dashed as we started our first significant climb. The skeletons pace hardly changed, and why would it!!! Their bikes were heavier than they were.

For me it was a totally different story. Addy wanted to race on, whilst my body wanted to play with gravity, and return to the bottom of the hill.

My perception of being a competent hill climber was just that 'A perception'. Things in life are all relative, cycling is no exception. In this company I was a novice.

I was soon struggling at the back, a place that was alien to me, but one I would have to get used to.

It was like starting all over again.

Klaus a German rider, joined me taking pity on a new prospective member.

I was very grateful. It was a decision he might regret now.

As we got to the top of a climb the road swings sharply to the right. It also has a left hand turning at the same point.

Addy used to my normal route, followed the road around to the right.

Klaus assuming I knew the route we were on today, turned left.

The result was not pretty.

The good thing about being built like a barn door is that when you come into contact with things, you normally come off best. The same was true in this instance. Klaus unfortunately hit the tarmac, whilst I was as stable as dental implant.

After dusting himself down and assuring me that his bleeding leg was 'nothing', he rejoined the faster front group, leaving me to fend for myself.

I'm sure if I could understand German I could have translated his true feelings.After about 25 miles we stopped at a Cafe. I had things to do so pressed on completing 52 miles.

I did not enjoy today's ride. It was too hard.

My Average HR was 165. Too much as an average for me and way out of my comfort zone. Although I now know have a long way to go, it was a start and at least Addy was happy.......

Isn't that all that matters - to keep your bike happy

Weekly Training/Weight Data
This week my diet has really been taking affect with a further 6lbs lost. That's 14 lbs in two weeks. This works out to be a whole load more potatoes removed from my imaginary pannier. As yet I feel no different on the bike, probably due to my continuously low energy levels.
My legs have put in a formal request to be transferred.

I asked them who they had in mind, thinking that it might be some inspirational sports personality.
It wasn't. Their exchange request was for anyone who sits in front of the TV all day eating donuts.
I have cycled 152 miles this week making 2200 miles for the year.
In my virtual reality bike ride from Beverley to Houston this takes me over the gulf of St Lawrence and close to the New Brunswick Coast. New Brunswick has a rugged and dangerous coast line with a tidal rise and fall of up to 50 ft, the largest in the world. It is also the birthplace of Sir Max Aitken, a famous Fleet Street publishing Baron.

'Great Expectations' Part 2

It is often the case that new arrivals bring with them new responsibilities, and sometimes the occasional burden.
Some can also be life changing.

The desire to have children, a new job, or to move house are obvious examples.

With the obvious positives there are always negative aspects to these scenarios.

Children can cause huge anxiety as well as great joy.

The dream promotion often brings the nightmare of stress.

The relocation from the polar regions of 'Yorkshire' to the 'East Texan Prairie, swaps cold wind and gales, with warm wind and Hurricanes.

The upgrading of my road bike from a Mid range alloy 'Scott Speedster', to a Carbon fibre 'Scott Addict also brings with it some new challenges.

I have never seen myself as a good cyclist, although whatever I do in life I always try hard to do it well and improve where there is a capacity to do so.

Taking part in Sportives and charity events I always peddled hard , but I knew my limitations.

When people went whizzing past on their 'Posh' bikes I resisted the chase. There was no point at all trying to stay with them or chase them down as Scott hated all that showy stuff.

If i was to try such a feat he would probably try and dislodge me or other cyclists just to cause embarrassment for me.

Now Addy has arrived on the scene things are totally different.

He is as enthusiastic as a rookie quarterback playing in the Superbowl. He eagerly wants to make his mark.

I went out cycling with Simon today. He has a posh bike and is as fit as a butchers dog, and as competitive as a wall street stock broker. Each time Simon raised the tempo Addy followed suit obviously trying to impress me. The upshot of all this high energy was marked. By the time i got home I was in urgent need an oxygen tent and a highly trained masseuse.

Clearly Addys expectations of me are far greater than my current capacity.

In fairness, I was very impressed by his coltish spirit, but he lacked maturity. If he wanted to go racing off he should at least of told me, communication in these sort of relationships is key. With a modicum of pre warning I could have taken one of my brothers revered five hour energy drinks.

When I put him away for the day his disappointment was obvious. It mattered not that he couldn't speak, the words were there for anyone to take in.

Get better, or get off !!!!!!!!

Weekly Training/Weight Data

This week my diet has definitely been affecting my energy levels when I have been cycling. My legs have been very naughty, l refusing to cooperate with my instructions.

However I do appreciate that the long term positives far outweigh any short term performance. Each pound loss should increase my power weight ratio whatever that means.

I have in fact managed to loose a full 8lbs this week which has really put things into perspective for me.
If somebody was to ask me to carry a ruck sack full of potatoes on a long bike ride, I am sure that my response would be non too plesant, even bordering on rudeness.

What a hypocrite I would be though !
I have been effectively cycling with potatoes in rucksacks, side panier's, crammed into the rear of my shirt, and in a front basket for nine months. Enough to provide a sufficient chips supply for any fast food outlet.

As I cycle now I feel liberated with the thought of potatoes tumbling from my bike and lightening the load.

I imagined them bouncing off the windscreens of cars containing irate motorists, who in turn looked to the heavens in amazement.

The expression its 'raining cats and dogs' could be changed in phrase books across the globe to. 'Its raining potatoes' However it does not really possess the same ring to it.

I have broken through 2000 miles for the year making it 2049.

In my virtual reality bike ride from Beverley to Houston it takes me into Newfoundland where its very chilly at 3C degrees. Its somewhere I always wanted to visit after reading The Shipping_News a pulitzer prive winning novel by Annie Proulx.

Laurel (Lily on the road) get the kettle on ill soon be in Ottawa

Charity News

I am now committed to raising money for 'The Daisy Appeal' a local charity that supports a cancer research and training facility. My father sadly died of Cancer and I am sure everybody knows of someone who has been effected. My daughter Daisy loved the fact that such a charity uses her name.

Spring has Sprung....at Last

Simon

'Great Expectations' Part 1

'Last night I dreamt I went to Mandalay again, and as I stepped through the iron gates a strange power become me, and I passed through them, as surreal as all dreamers are..........................

It was not really Mandalay, but an East Texan Bayou, however it was as close as I could get to replicating the classic opening of Daphne du Maurriers brilliant novel 'Rebbeca'. It is arguably one of the greatest opening lines in English fiction

My dream was real enough though.

I was a young boy called Pip (Short for Philip) and on a small isolated path surrounded by rich exotic, Mangrove swamps.
There were loud Texas rangers all around with drooling bloodhounds, apparently looking for some escaped convict.
On the news they said it was an Englishman dubbed ' The Pirate' .
The reporter announced that he had come to America to seek his fortune, and was now wanted by the IRS.
Out of the swap the barnacled brigand surfaced - directly in front of me.
He was a big man with an odd Australian twang to his otherwise Anglo/American Accent.

He bid me to keep my mouth firmly shut, and ordered that I fetch him fresh water and victuals. He had the presence of a 'Maillot jaune' and I felt like his dutiful domestique.
After fulfilling his wishes he wadded off back into the murky water, amidst the deep base echoing sound of the bloodhounds excited at the the scent of prey.


His last parting words were, 'Your name please brother?'
I replied Pip nervously.
Well Pip, you looked out for me, so in time I will look out for you.

I have always been a great believer in the relevance of dreams.Matters that might be on your mind, which are close to your consciousness and are translated to symbolised images. In my cases it seemed to be an assortment of images from my collective blogposts.

When I awoke in the morning I received an E mail from my twin Brother.
It was short and to the point obviously sent from his Blackberry.
‘You can pick up your new bike’
My Texan brother certainly was looking out for me. The Scott CR1 was apparently deemed, not worthy for such a fine Domestique as myself.
He had gone and purchased a brand new Scott Addic.
It has now been collected and lives in the spare bedroom. Im still in a state of shock running upstairs every five minutes to look at it and to make sure he 'Addy' is ok.

I need to leave it there until I have told the older Scott.
You cant just bring another bike home without a proper explanation.

That will wait till tomorrow, which is when I will let 'Addy'show me what hes got.

I sense that Sundays blog may be quite wordy.

Lightening the load for new Horizons

In the early days of exploration, ships left the shores of Albion to find riches across new horizons and to further explore lands and continents previously discovered.

It must have been really frightening for them.

With only charts, limited navigational tools and a bible to help guide them, they never really new exactly where they were going.

No illuminated neon road signs or hazard markers, just the stars, the sun and the moon.
At that time everybody believed that the world was flat.

It was well recognised that if you travelled a bit too far you would just fall of the edge, like an errant chip falling from your plate.

To make matters worse sailors came home with exaggerated stories of sea monsters, sirens and wild storms.

Sea travel in those days was about as precarious as you could get.

Even worse than popping over to Mexico, without a face mask.

Each day ships would sail into uncharted territories and the crew would see for themselves, huge whales and giant turtles - Scary Stuff.

Some ships sank in storms or the crew perished through disease or starvation, others just just never returned.

Despite this they were never deterred continuously slipping their moorings and sailing towards forever changing horizons.
Out of the journeys came experience and knowledge, as well as a few novel ideas.

For instance In order to go to the West Indies they devised a great idea.
Basically head south till the butter on board melted, then turn (right ) due west and the Caribean Islands were straight a head of you.

Pretty Smart stuff.
You can just imagine how your satellite navigational system in the car might be adapted.

To the voice of Clint Eastwood.
'O Ah-ah, I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking, "Has the butter melted yet, or is it still hard?" And to tell you the truth, I've forgotten myself in all this excitement. But being this is a butter melting detector - the most powerful navigational system in the world, you've got to ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?!

Right now, I feel a bit like one of those salty sea dogs.

I want to move forwards, but seem to have lost a bit of direction.

The Euphoria of riding nearly 500 miles in three weeks in Texas has sunk.

Drowned in new found complacency.

I came home full of vim and vigour, yet I have only cycled 25 miles since I got back.

I know I always promised myself a bit of a break, but this feels more like a sabatical.

I feel like 'The Ancient Mariner'.

Stuck in the doldrums with the weight of further expectations around my shoulders.

'Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean'

Although I have not entered any cycle events in May, in June I have two killer rides.

'Flat out in the Fens', followed a week later by the 'White Rose Challenge'.

For both these rides and the following 'Hotter than Hell' in August, I will need to be much fitter and much lighter. They are all tough rides over 100 miles each with demanding cut off times before your swallowed up by the SAG Van.

This means a number of things:

Like swapping over my six packs.

Getting back on my bike
And I will also need some goals to fuel my motivation.
So here goes, today I decided to set them out. To slip my own moorings and set a course for new horizons.

Distance

1. I have cycled 1,873 miles so far this year.

It is 4,772 miles from Beverley to Houston.

Before I go back to Texas in August I want to complete the remaining 2899 miles.

To help me with this I have put a funky Widget on my blog to record my Mileage from today with 2899 miles the target.

Weight
2. I need to loose at least 40lbs.

I have started a proper diet for the first time in my life

Again I have put a Widget at the bottom of my blog page to record my progress.

A lot of people make excuses about why or how they have put on weight.

I am no different, but I am honest about it.

My problem has never been that I eat bad food, its just that I am a big pig.

I just like eating, and the delicious process of tasting nice food.

Throughout my life, I have always controlled my weight by exercise.

In fact I have often specifically exercised, so I could eat more.

On Sunday mornings I usually cycle an extra ten miles so that I can have more roast potatoes with my lunch, believe me its well worth it.

The more I exercise I do, the more I eat.

This strange approach has served me well for years.

However recently It seems to have been affected by bouts of Amnesia.

Well for about five years.

The maths now, does not quite add up

You see when I have not been able to exercise, I am meant to cut down my food intake.

Well, what can I say.... I forgot.

My love handles have turned into saddlebags

So drastic times have called for drastic measures.

I need to get rid of all the weight I put on during those sedentary periods before I can go back to my old regime.

I have named my diet the swamp diet.

It is broken down into three parts.

Part One - Detox - It is a mixture of starvation for two days and drinking things that has the same consistency, smell and colour of water you would normally find in a bayou

Part Two - Stomach shrinkage - Further swap water, and diet shakes, with proper, healthy food phased in.

Part Three - Continuous Healthy food with portions the size you would get on an aeroplane.

Right now I feel a bit like Oliver Twist and wish to ask myself for some more.

However looking over the swamp diet menu, there is only one thing available.

Yes, you've guessed it

More swamp water.

I guess its better than weevil infested biscuits that the sailors had to eat.