I notice that my blog traffic is down significantly from 2018. Could it be that my adoring public are cool on the lack of running or abit sniffy about my rejuvenated cycling career. Maybe the blog is just a bit dull these days? Who knows?
In order to stop the rot (not really) and having reached the dizzy heights of a 23 minute 10 mile time trial, I have been rifling through any number of second hand bike websites in recent weeks. I came up with a couple of bikes for sale that might help me in my quest for speed. One was at Carnoustie and the other in the Borders.
And so, on Friday gone, I ventured to Selkirk to view a carbon bike with carbon wheels. Sure the bike was 4 years old and the wheels two (apparently), but if the machine was suitable it would be a step up 'for sure' (as they say on the Tour). I arrived at the bloke's modest abode and the gent dug out the Planet X machine from the shed. Of course, while I pulled at this and that and scratched my chin, going to look at a new bike with all the bells and whistles is like going to see a puppy. You're not likely to come away empty handed. In making a 90 minute journey, I was already committed unless there was something wrong with the gear. I took the jalopy for a spin up and down the lane and it seemed smooth, eager. It was certainly lightweight. I made the lad a reduced but respectful offer and he was happy to take my spondoolies. 'That was painless enough', I thought.
We shook (but not in a fracking earthquake sort of way) and I carefully placed the bike into the back of the car like it was my grannies frail auntie and closed the rear door. Business concluded, I drove through the town and parked up. As it was a lovely night and I'd never been to Selkirk, I put on my trainers and did a slow 30 minutes around the town. It really is no where near anywhere, but not a bad wee place on the whole. I changed and realising that it would be too late for dinner by the time I got back home, I used some of the money I'd saved on the bike and bought crispy shredded beef and chilli sauce and sat in the car developing a good sweat as I worked my way through the boiled rice and red gooey morass. What a messy eater I am. Stuff all over my chin.
I took the flying machine out tonight around my normal 20 mile circuit and took around 4 minutes off my previous best time. Granted I was high on new bike testosterone and gave it some welly, but it bodes well for the short and hilly event at Elsdon in 10 days and in Aberfoyle next month. In the meantime, I'll have to get the discarded bike polished and up on Gumtree (or whatever) and see if I can recoup some of the readies I parted with.
Tuesday, 27 August 2019
Sunday, 18 August 2019
Levens and the Roberts
Its been a 'sweet and sour' type of weekend for me, but mostly sweet.
I dropped my Roberts off at Paul Curran's Bike Shop in Teesside last week and it didn't take him long to give (mostly) everything the once over and text me to say the bike was ready. I drove down on Saturday to collect it. He said it had had some admiring glances as it sat in his shop. It's whats called a neo-retro, a classic bike frame that's had an update. Never seen one up here in the north.
I was on my way to Levens, a renowned 10 mile time trial. After last weekends success at Irvine, I was chilled about Levens. If I p.b'd then great; if not, no dramas.
I took the A66 across the Pennines and arriving beside the HQ, I drove the course. Not great and not a patch on Irvine, I mused; and the wind was up and gusting. There was no time to dip into my current read, Tolstoy's 'the death of Ivan Illych', which is surprisingly good, not too long and not a million miles off Daphne Du Maurier in style.
It was a full field of 120 riders and some reserves and I was off at 7:12pm. I warmed up on some nearby roads and some of the drivers were a bit speedy and a bit close for my liking. I had a chat with a guy from Rutherglen who was off a couple of minutes before me and he was regretting the long trip south, thinking about the wind.
The lad in front of me had all the gear and was riding for Hawick. His bike was a thing of beauty and right enough his ability must have matched his equipment as he won the event with 20m:00sec on a winnie the pooh blustery day. Needless to say I never caught sight of him. In the meantime, I made what I could of the dualled road, then single carriageway, then dualled affair into a stiff and gusting headwind, and then cracked on back with a tailwind. I finished a minute down on Irvine and cooled down with a 5 mile ride around the sleepy South Lakes villages before returning to the car. It was a pleasure to inhale the wood smoke from the holiday homes and see the trees heavy with apples and plums in the late evening.
I drove back via Penrith where I stopped for a kebab, but it turned out to be a Greek takeaway, so I ended up with something nearly a kebab but described as a yeeros (or gyros). Not a patch on what they serve in Dalkeith. Paprika and chips in there, but no chilli; whats that all about?
This morning the sun was out and I took the Roberts out for its first ride. I tagged in with a group initially until my back wheel came out of the frame up a hill, then sat in later with a little group of Zeus CRT riders (a club I was in 15 years ago). We had a good chat. Apart from one of my brake levers working loose, the new old bike was a pleasure to ride and I stopped at Capheaton for a prolonged tea (but no cake) to savour the end of a long held ambition to ride one of these frames.
I have two hilly time trials left to complete before the season's end. One's a short affair locally that goes up Bilsmoor and the Gibbet early in September and the other's a return visit to Aberfoyle for the Tour de Trossachs (if I get in). The good news is that I am back into my old trousers, which means the weight is coming down. It will have to if I am going to do myself justice at these late season events where carrying excess weight is no help whatsoever.
I'll just add that I've knocked out 15 miles running this week; However, I don't want to tempt fate, so will keep this between you and me until I am back into the running groove.
I dropped my Roberts off at Paul Curran's Bike Shop in Teesside last week and it didn't take him long to give (mostly) everything the once over and text me to say the bike was ready. I drove down on Saturday to collect it. He said it had had some admiring glances as it sat in his shop. It's whats called a neo-retro, a classic bike frame that's had an update. Never seen one up here in the north.
I was on my way to Levens, a renowned 10 mile time trial. After last weekends success at Irvine, I was chilled about Levens. If I p.b'd then great; if not, no dramas.
I took the A66 across the Pennines and arriving beside the HQ, I drove the course. Not great and not a patch on Irvine, I mused; and the wind was up and gusting. There was no time to dip into my current read, Tolstoy's 'the death of Ivan Illych', which is surprisingly good, not too long and not a million miles off Daphne Du Maurier in style.
It was a full field of 120 riders and some reserves and I was off at 7:12pm. I warmed up on some nearby roads and some of the drivers were a bit speedy and a bit close for my liking. I had a chat with a guy from Rutherglen who was off a couple of minutes before me and he was regretting the long trip south, thinking about the wind.
The lad in front of me had all the gear and was riding for Hawick. His bike was a thing of beauty and right enough his ability must have matched his equipment as he won the event with 20m:00sec on a winnie the pooh blustery day. Needless to say I never caught sight of him. In the meantime, I made what I could of the dualled road, then single carriageway, then dualled affair into a stiff and gusting headwind, and then cracked on back with a tailwind. I finished a minute down on Irvine and cooled down with a 5 mile ride around the sleepy South Lakes villages before returning to the car. It was a pleasure to inhale the wood smoke from the holiday homes and see the trees heavy with apples and plums in the late evening.
I drove back via Penrith where I stopped for a kebab, but it turned out to be a Greek takeaway, so I ended up with something nearly a kebab but described as a yeeros (or gyros). Not a patch on what they serve in Dalkeith. Paprika and chips in there, but no chilli; whats that all about?
This morning the sun was out and I took the Roberts out for its first ride. I tagged in with a group initially until my back wheel came out of the frame up a hill, then sat in later with a little group of Zeus CRT riders (a club I was in 15 years ago). We had a good chat. Apart from one of my brake levers working loose, the new old bike was a pleasure to ride and I stopped at Capheaton for a prolonged tea (but no cake) to savour the end of a long held ambition to ride one of these frames.
I have two hilly time trials left to complete before the season's end. One's a short affair locally that goes up Bilsmoor and the Gibbet early in September and the other's a return visit to Aberfoyle for the Tour de Trossachs (if I get in). The good news is that I am back into my old trousers, which means the weight is coming down. It will have to if I am going to do myself justice at these late season events where carrying excess weight is no help whatsoever.
I'll just add that I've knocked out 15 miles running this week; However, I don't want to tempt fate, so will keep this between you and me until I am back into the running groove.
Thursday, 15 August 2019
Return to Irvine (GTR 10mile TT)
I have yet to regale you of my most recent success. Well, it was a modest but well earned nibbling away (even if I say it myself) of my 10 mile time trial pb back in Irvine. I had entered this ages ago. I think it's the flattest course in Britain for this event. Possibly the fastest? I doubted that the weather would be as good as it had been earlier this year when I set 24:11 as my seasons best. I feared that it would not be conducive to a good time and as I crossed the A69, the weather was appalling. If it had been a teenager, I would have sent it to its bedroom with a thick ear and without any supper. The major highway between east and west was flooded in places and it was coming down in stair rods. The sky was a multi-layered ragged f&%ked up angry mix of black, grey and deep blue and it was doing the Wealdstone Raider....'dya want some? If you want some, I'll give it ya'.
Somewhere past Gretna Green it began to dry out. The sky was still a mess, but it wasn't raining so heavily. As I cut west for Ayrshire at Douglas, I watched the black sky in my mirror while I sped toward a cloudless clear blue sky. Hard to believe that by the time I stopped at McDonalds in Kilmarnock for a coffee at 5pm, it was 22 degrees and they were all in T shirts. Could it last, I wondered as I peeled the little white sticker off the cup and stuck it to my dashboard with the rest of them.
I signed on in Eglington Park at 5:30pm, an hour before my start time. I warmed up by riding the 2 miles into Irvine and then back out on the Kilwinning Road a couple of times. I had my new skinsuit on and had wrestled with the velotoze things for my feet. They're on their last legs and will be slung this weekend. I was number 40. Usually those that wear the 'zero' numbers (10,20 etc) are the fastest, but I wasnt fooling anyone. I simply didnt have the disc wheels and sleek black racing steeds that most others had.
I knew that I had to go hard from the start and, as I started, I assumed the aero position within a couple of seconds and buried myself along the carriageway. There was a 12 mph side-tailwind and as I hammered down the slow lane I recalled looking at my garmin last time where I had been surprised to see 27mph. Today it said 29mph. I caught sight of my minute man ahead but he was going well and, at the turn, I was at 11m:50s or thereabouts. More speed required, Scottie. I cracked on as the sweat began to drip drip off my nose. Its 100% effort eyeballs out on a flat course. I was generating 300 watts which is easily double what I might do on a training ride around the lanes. I needed to go faster. More, More. I tried to remember to try and maintain an aero position. Glancing at the garmin it said 25mph, then later 24mph and I was flailing as I gobbled up the miles to the finish. The final kilometre is a very gentle decline and I mustered every last atom of energy that I could as I came past the line in 23m:57s. Pheewww, that was tight, but 'sub 24' on 'normal' wheels was the seasons objective. I know with a small mortgage and some crowd-funding over the winter I can raise enough dosh for some carbon wheels next year. I was elated with the time and warmed down by riding into Irvine. It still didn't look any better in the late evening sun.
I drove back home via Edinburgh and as I travelled along the M8 it got blacker and blacker with flashes of lightning illuminating the sky every so often. It was torrential along the bypass and while my heart said kebab, my brain said fish supper in Dalkeith, so it was a fish supper and a salt n sauce wet drive home. I think I was lucky.
Oh, and by the way...breaking news.....a new pair of trainers and 12 miles of running this week. Its looking like it could be a decent Autumn.
Somewhere past Gretna Green it began to dry out. The sky was still a mess, but it wasn't raining so heavily. As I cut west for Ayrshire at Douglas, I watched the black sky in my mirror while I sped toward a cloudless clear blue sky. Hard to believe that by the time I stopped at McDonalds in Kilmarnock for a coffee at 5pm, it was 22 degrees and they were all in T shirts. Could it last, I wondered as I peeled the little white sticker off the cup and stuck it to my dashboard with the rest of them.
I signed on in Eglington Park at 5:30pm, an hour before my start time. I warmed up by riding the 2 miles into Irvine and then back out on the Kilwinning Road a couple of times. I had my new skinsuit on and had wrestled with the velotoze things for my feet. They're on their last legs and will be slung this weekend. I was number 40. Usually those that wear the 'zero' numbers (10,20 etc) are the fastest, but I wasnt fooling anyone. I simply didnt have the disc wheels and sleek black racing steeds that most others had.
I knew that I had to go hard from the start and, as I started, I assumed the aero position within a couple of seconds and buried myself along the carriageway. There was a 12 mph side-tailwind and as I hammered down the slow lane I recalled looking at my garmin last time where I had been surprised to see 27mph. Today it said 29mph. I caught sight of my minute man ahead but he was going well and, at the turn, I was at 11m:50s or thereabouts. More speed required, Scottie. I cracked on as the sweat began to drip drip off my nose. Its 100% effort eyeballs out on a flat course. I was generating 300 watts which is easily double what I might do on a training ride around the lanes. I needed to go faster. More, More. I tried to remember to try and maintain an aero position. Glancing at the garmin it said 25mph, then later 24mph and I was flailing as I gobbled up the miles to the finish. The final kilometre is a very gentle decline and I mustered every last atom of energy that I could as I came past the line in 23m:57s. Pheewww, that was tight, but 'sub 24' on 'normal' wheels was the seasons objective. I know with a small mortgage and some crowd-funding over the winter I can raise enough dosh for some carbon wheels next year. I was elated with the time and warmed down by riding into Irvine. It still didn't look any better in the late evening sun.
I drove back home via Edinburgh and as I travelled along the M8 it got blacker and blacker with flashes of lightning illuminating the sky every so often. It was torrential along the bypass and while my heart said kebab, my brain said fish supper in Dalkeith, so it was a fish supper and a salt n sauce wet drive home. I think I was lucky.
Oh, and by the way...breaking news.....a new pair of trainers and 12 miles of running this week. Its looking like it could be a decent Autumn.
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