Two wheel adventure

I've managed virtually no running miles this week, but all is not lost. I have logged over 150 miles on the bike and its been a real pleasure that a quiet period at work has coincided with the hot weather last week. True, we have had our share in recent days (and nights) of a thunder storm or two but they kinda go hand in hand - hot weather and thunder. One night a huge clap came out of nowhere and I nearly hit the ceiling. The bikes are mostly in a state of disrepair which is not satisfactory. I must get my finger out and sell or sling the various bits n bobs that are lying around and that are surplus to requirements. Some new gear is also required.
My Chas Roberts is assembled after 18 months, but is yet to hit the road and I need to get it fine tuned. I have been down the estate road on it and the position is bang on, which is great. The gears need a little tinkering and it could do with a once over by someone who knows what to do with a spanner!
My recent lurgy troubles appear to have dissipated and I feel now that I can dispense with the white gloves and dust mask...some of the neighbours are wondering if I've gone a bit gaga.
Next weeks weather looks wet, but there could be a slot tomorrow afternoon and again on Tuesday morning, so I will ensure I make myself available for some quality bike time. The Tour has been great this year and I am still keen to get out to the Alps again and do some big hills.  In the meantime I will have to make do with the Northumbrian countryside. Could do a lot worse. If I manage to pull on a pair of trainers, I'll let you know. In the meantime life's a two wheel adventure.

A fat lads Sunderland 5k

The lurgy has been hanging on since my holiday. My achilles has also been playing up, but my mantra these days is ‘do what you can’. I had pre-entered the Sunderland 5k in mid June when I was ‘on the up’. However, I haven’t shifted the weight and since my cold, not managed the miles. The evening race on the Thursday night looked uninviting, but the £12 or whatever had been spent, so I was committed.  I had also entered a local 10m time trial at Cramlington on the Wednesday, the night before Sunderland. I knew I was pushing my luck. 

It took me 20 minutes to track down the Race HQ near Cramlington. Armed with my new skinsuit I signed up and took my number to the toilets to pin on. This is no easy feat given the tightness of the garment and its stretchiness. I made some sort of job of it, but as my torso cannot yet manage a 360 degree revolution, I accepted defeat and asked for assistance from a fellow rider as I made my way out of the gents.

I really wasn’t in the mood for 25 minutes of grief, but it could only be better than the debacle that was Newton Mearns (see earlier blog). I was off 2^nd last and it was well after 8pm when I galloped downhill from the start to commence the 2 laps of the circuit. I had no illusions that I was in good shape; However, crossing the line in 24:50min I was pretty happy with the result, my second fastest time of the year.  I warmed down with another couple of miles and made my way home to a shower and a bottle of beer. The skinsuit was fine and in the search for a faster time, I find myself browsing the web for carbon wheels. Crazy prices for what….a handful of seconds?

I felt fine the next day and I drove Marg, Speedy joe and Ant to Sunderland. We were joined by the loz and the dark horse (linds), so all 3 daughters were running. Good to see them all getting stuck in. The Sunderland 5k starts with a ski-slope hill and it’s a 400m giveaway. 

However, it was super-muggy and hot and after 1k I realised I was going to struggle. I saw the back of many runners who, normally I would have expected to beat, but not this evening. It was a PW of 21:02 and I have rarely enjoyed a race less.  None of the others did well and this we put down to the remnants of the cold bug and the recent excesses of our continental trip. While Speedy joe still hasn’t found her mojo, loz appears to have put the bug to the sword with her win the following weekend at the Hamsterley trail half marathon. I totted up 12 miles running over the week but the achilles is easing off, thankfully. I have managed 100 on the bike, however in readiness for the two short time trial events that I have entered in August.  If I get in, it’s a trip back to Irvine and then one to Wigan. To what lengths will I go to deliver a PB on the bike? Quite a way, apparently.

Chamonix Furnace

I have been in dire straits in the last 10 days. Recently my running was on the up and I had clocked 30 running miles in the week mid-June. What I didn’t know on the Sunday long run was that my system was already incubating a virus. A virial cold with some added flu for the craic. By Monday morning my throat was razors and my head was pounding. Take it from me, by Saturday I knew it was the cold from hell. I was talked into going on Holiday on the following Wednesday and kept myself to myself on the plane to Geneva. Once we arrived in Chamonix, I took to my bed, later spending much of the next two days sunbathing under a large open window in the apartment. The flat looked directly onto the main square. There was a row of pizza restaurants underneath us and the buzz of continental late night dining and the clashing of plates and cutlery took a little getting used to. As my condition improved, I took to hanging out the window, people watching. So many people on the move.

There was a running festival on. Fifty nationalities. Seven events including two over the night-time. All of my flat sharers had variously entered the KMV (a vertical 3km up to one of the cable car stations), the Mont Blanc half marathon and the 10k. What with my various ailments, I hadn’t entered any events, and looking out over the balcony through the incredible heat, I felt no pressure and a great deal of relief. We were opposite the post office which had a digital thingy on the wall which made announcements and also signalled the time and temperature every minute. It read 40 degrees on the Friday afternoon. It was like a furnace. Everyone else had had the lurgy to some degree and all were coughing and feeling out of sorts. 

The first event was a 90k run and the runners had set off at 6am. By 3pm they started to re-appear in dribs and drabs through the town and their appearance was marked by sporadic outburst of whooping and cheering by the pizza punters.  

The start of the KMV was from the square behind our block. It was a time trial with runners setting off at 20 second intervals. The paths were impossibly steep and narrow in places. We could hear the clapping and the microphone from the flat…the windows were all wide open to try and keep us cool. We walked past the square and as the dark destroyer (loz) set off and we clapped her on her way, a daft mission to altitude and glory. It took her an hour. She was followed shortly afterwards by Nicola Duncan who I recognised and I told her to work harder. She shouted that she’d done 170 miles the previous week. 

We were kept awake for most of the night by the clapping and the overly energised chap on the microphone. By Saturday morning we were all a heavily sleep deprived. There was an air of grumpiness in the air. Despite this, Speedy Joe was up for the half marathon and we clapped her off from the Park at 6am after a 1 mile walk from the flat. She was carrying enough water to refill Kielder.  The organisers had insisted on this and had initially rejected her jaunty suggestion that a small plastic bottle would suffice.I made my way to the finish up at the PlanPlaz. Ant who had decided not to take part in the ‘Half’ joined me after 15 minutes and the crowd swelled over the next half an hour. The first runner came in around 2:30hrs. The field soon followed and became increasingly ragged, with Cat arriving in 24^th place in a time of a 3:30hrs. Tough day out.    

The 10k was scheduled for 1pm. It also left from the Park. We wandered back to the Park just after lunch and sympathised with Marg and Loz for their impending furnace experience. If anything, it felt hotter than PlanPraz.  After the start, we wandered to the 9k mark and waited for the two to make an appearance. It took an age for the first runners to come through and both loz and marg were completely fried, like the rest of the field as they passed. I have never been so thankful to have passed on this dubious festival experience.

We ate out in the evening in the restaurant next door and it was a disappointing affair. We were hoping for a quiet night, but the muppet around the corner still had his microphone on and was whooping the thinning crowd to an inch of its life. I was generating very negative thoughts as I lay in bed in the evening heat.   It was the novices race and the disturbance extended well into the early hours. Sometime early on Monday morning the microphone torture trailed off and the weather broke with a spectacular electrical storm. 

My condition improved and the high point of the holiday was a walk up to PlanPraz followed by a run back down through the woods with Speedy joe. It was 40 minutes of gravity assisted technical descent and an experience that salvaged my holiday.