Ferryhill Two Stage Hill Climb, Bolam

The common book of cycling prayer has a nice quote. It goes something like... 'a hill-climber's life is short and full of woe. He cometh up in a small gear and is cut down like a flower when the results are published'.... The shortest event in the cycling time trial calendar, hill climbing is probably only for the hard core. It's an adventure in anaerobic suffering. It might last 3 or 8 minutes but rarely longer.

Its naïve to think you can jump sports without putting in the hours, but as long as you don't take things too seriously, its possible to get involved without making a fool of yourself. Unlike the running world, where you can rock up to most events and enter on the day, the cycling powers of B have determined that you have to pre-enter this type of race. I've had to commit therefore to a number of events well in advance of knowing how good or otherwise things might go.

Last week was a short hill climb in Northumberland. It was a day after I had panned myself at a fell run and it went poorly I suppose. Today I found myself warming up on a mile climb south of West Auckland in County Durham. It was two stage hill climb time trial. The first hill was at 11am and a second climb of a different hill was scheduled for 1pm. Riders set off at one minute intervals.

I rode 3 miles down to the start with a lad from Manchester and had a good natter. As I was fourth off, I checked out the hill, riding up it once and then went back down and lined up. The objective was not to feel as bad as I felt last week. As the lactic builds and you force yourself up-gradient its an effort to keep a smooth rhythm.  Its a battle between you and the hill and you have to conquer it without parking up and waiting for the bus or grabbing the next riders jersey for a tug as they fly by. 

The first hill, Brussleton Bank, was a mile long with a steep incline in the middle. The tarmac surfacing was poor and it was twisty-turny. I grafted up and up and looked for an even cadence but to no avail and finished just under 6 minutes. As I sucked in the air, I wondered if I could have run it quicker. 'No' is the answer.  I was lying 19th as the results were posted back at the Countryman pub, the HQ for the event in Bolam.  I had a piece of flapjack and reclined in the car working out my strategy for Stage 2. It was easy... 'Go faster'.

The pub car park was beginning to fill up as I got back on the bike and rode down toward Ingleton village. Normal folk going for their roast.  I felt hungry as the smell of hot food filled the air. 

The second hill was long with a sharp climb about a quarter of the way up, but from then on, the gradients were forgiving with two long easy straights ahead. We also had a tailwind and the tarmac was smooth. I felt stronger and more confident as I wellied my way to the finish. My time for a similar distance was about the same and I finished 18th. 

One of the side effects of this sort of exertion is a dry cough, not dissimilar to what you get when you run 200 or 400m, and there was plenty of it as the event drew to a close with the presentation from Ferryhill Wheelers. The season is short, but this sort of affair is a nice change from the usual pavement pounding.     

  

GS Metro Hill Climb 2013

Super Sunday followed Satisfactory Saturday. The GS Metro hill climb on Hedley on the Hill was todays target. Its been a good few years since I entered a fully fledged open cycle road race, but this was the nearest I will probably come this year to racing on the road. The fifty quid I rashly splashed out for a British Cycling road licence in March was probably premature. Never mind.

The Metro event is actually a short time trial. There were 40 runners and riders and it was just over a mile, all uphill, with gradients of between 6 and 12 percent or degrees (I never quite know what the measurement is); all I know is that the air gets thinner as your heart rate hits the roof, moves up to the attic and bursts out of the chimney stack with soot all over its face.

I was off number 7 and with both other v50's ahead of me, I had no idea how I'd do. Yesterday's exertion probably counted for something. As it was, the hill wasn't too severe and it took me 6m:20secs to get from start to finish with a little band of supporters shouting near the top to gee you up. Finished 10 seconds down from the winner of the category and 1 second ahead of the other rider, so I didn't disgrace myself. My official photographer even got an all action snap as proof of forward (and not sideways) motion. By the end I was breathing out my 'ears' (re-arrange letters for the truth) and finished, letting the bike roll on for a good 300 yards gulping in huge lungworms of  Northumberland air.
Look in next week for another stalling performance.

Simonside Fell Race 2013: Thropton Show

Target one this month was the Simonside Fell Race. A six mile race through fields, forest and crags and 1200ft of climb, its an autumnal extravaganza that forms part of the Thropton Country Show.  You can be sure of a good crowd at the end. They gather on either side of the finishing tape to watch these 'fell running types' murder themselves trying to shave seconds and places off the years previous performance.  I was one of those 'fell running types'.

It's one of the North East Fell Running Championship counters this year, and with two wins out of two in the old mans category, I didn’t want to relinquish my miserly stranglehold on this lucrative competition...I think there’s a medal at the end. The competition to date has been from Burn of Durham Fell Runners and Smith of Saltwell. There were a few incomers though and seeing Morgan Donnelly sitting on the grass as I entered the show ground, I thought it would be an interesting field. 

Me and the missus had, earlier in the day, entered some of the shows other competitions. She had submitted lemon curd, plum jam, chocolate cake and scones for scrutiny. I had collected 8 photos from around the house and put them in. One or two were from last years trip to Paris and Amiens and I thought they had a chance in their particular category.    

Back to the fell race, and I only managed to get to the line in time, fannying around the car putting on my number.  I took the ipod, but as it transpired, I didn’t need it.

Around a hundred runners set off and we made our way past the Cross Keys Pub and then through the wide, shallow Coquet. I had started steady and made my way slowly up the climb through the fields and up to Great Tosson. I passed Burn and then spied NFR's Scott Gibson and a Pudsey and Bramley runner ahead. As the gradient steepened south of Tosson Farm I tucked in behind the tall, rangey NFR runner,  providing a steady pace up through the forest. In doing so we passed Pudsey's Mcintosh but he didn’t drop back and as we exited the forest and made our way up the vertical gritstone staircase through the crags of High Point, he was still there. 

There is a short trot across the top of the ridge then it all back down again and it didn’t take Pudsey man anytime to show his superior descending skill and overhaul both of us. He ploughed on with intent and a lengthening stride back into the woods.

I upped the pace and tried to stick with him, but through the twists and turns he was making metres at a time. We quickly picked up Alnwick runner Jo Gascoine Owen, winner of the Hawskhead trail race who had been well up the road in the ascent with clubmate Bruce Crombie.  Not long after, as the reeds and ferns covered the slippy surfaces, I went down like a sack of sheet, but was straight back up and still only around 20 metres behind Pudsey. I was working at max though, but happy to stay at that distance leaving the man ahead to spend vital seconds finding the best route and in one or two places, looking desperately for the marker tape.  As we came out of the forest he went left instead of right, but soon realised his error and tucked in behind me as we came back down through Tosson, passing me again just before the river crossing. We were elbow to elbow coming along the road but I couldn’t match his acceleration as we entered the showground and he finished comfortably ahead.

I had a good wretch afterwards. This seems to be a new feature of recent hard runs and not at all to be encouraged.  Still, it was a top ten finish and there were a couple of bottles of Becks for 1st vet 50, so a good if tough afternoon in the hills.

Happy to report a first and a third in the photograph competition as well. No prizes though for the jams and cakes. Can't have it all, eh?
 

Teespride Review

I've been doon the big smoke to see the young 'un competing at the world aquathlon championships (well...proud parents prerogative). A 1km swim and a 5k run. Watching all the coming and going made me want to be 30 years younger.  Looking through the photos I took, I thought this one was a laugh (Giant hand pushes in flagpole...not my hand).

Alas,it was over all too quickly and I'm now sat here on the train coming north from London.  My wallets empty and its begun to rain out the window, so we must be going north...

Not one to waste time blogging, I have time as we sit waiting for a train ahead to get itself sorted out, to critically review my performance at last weekends Teespride 10k. Let me start by saying that I could have gone faster and finished stronger toward the end where my pace dropped off from sub-six to six eleven for the last mile.  I say I could have gone faster, but that was really just in my head. My legs and lungs were working at max, little sacks of fleshy bellows sucking in the clean Middlesbrough air! I spent time trying to fend off those johnny-come-lately Teesside based vets who had the cheek to come past in the last mile. Before that, I was moving well over the flat course, the breathing not too laboured.

The Council had closed the road, so it was a stress free, car free circuit that wound its way out of Acklam and down Marton Road. I think we passed Clairville stadium in the final stages, although I couldn’t find the spare energy to turn my head right to see if they’ve pulled it down to erect more houses.  Waste of a perfectly good athletics facility with velodrome.

It was a proper big event with chip timing and a field just short of two thousand.  The sun was out and hardly a drop of wind.  The event was well supported with crowds at junctions and a few had dug out their deck chairs and were sitting on the pavement or at the bottom of their drives. The course kept runners away from the more industrial hinterlands so we didn’t quite get the full ‘Boro' experience.  The bands who were playing music around the course added a cosmopolitan air to the whole affair. The course was fast but not quite fast enough for a sub 37. A goodie bag at the end with a T- shirt, medal and a Frisbee which I threw away.... 

Not sure what's on this weekend. Need to have a look at the racing calendar.

Round 1 - Hexham 800m

Last night was round one in the super vet medley-mash-up combining track racing, road racing and fell running. Round one was last night's 800m at the track in Hexham, the other events being the Teesside 10k next week and Simonside Fell Race later in September. My calves don't know what the hell's going on. If you don't tell them, then I won't either. When I last checked, the last 800m I ran was in 2007 when I delivered an anonymous 2min:20secs. This time around I was in the C race, and got round the two lapper in surprise, surprise.. 2:20secs.  Given that it was as fast as I could manage, I should be quite happy really.  Finished mid-table.
Anyway, good news on next weeks Teesside extravaganza....the cyclo-cross that potentially clashed with the 10k is only 5 miles away, so might be able to do both.

Crackerjack

I've got my work cut out for me in the next fortnight.
During a trip down town I made a trip to the bank and then moseyed around, shuffling aimlessly from shop window to shop window; Its cheaper that way. Occasionally I catch my reflection in the window and smile back.....Sometimes I wave.

My shopping partner.... Margaret; lets call her 'M' for now... decided to pick up a few things in the bakers and when we met up, her arms were full of paper bags.
'I got you a Cornish pasty' she said.
I thanked her for this, taking it from her and, as we sauntered back to the car in the late afternoon sunshine, I began to sample the contents of this tasty parcel of pastry. I remember seeing a green pea in the brown mix, but not much else I could recognise. Before I knew it, it was gone.

The sun was still out when we got back home.
Aunt Aggie was outside in the garden already, being busy with something.
I said hello and sat on the warm slabs that make up our wee patio in front of my new arrivals, some lush fern plants in pots that I was given. 
As I dozed, I imagined I heard the kettle go on and before I knew it,  I was presented with a mug of tea and an iced cream finger (cake, in other words). You won't find this in any of your fancy training manuals, I can tell you.

The accumulated combined carbohydrate and sugar rush must have taken effect rapidly and before it was five to five and you had time to shout 'crackerjack', I had found the laptop and entered the Tynedale Harriers 800m on Thursday night. The last time I did one of these in earnest was maybe 5 years ago.  The way I look at it, it's a 400m race, but double the length and double the lactic, but not necessarily double the speed.

As if this wasn't enough, I found I had also signed up on-line for the TeesPride 10k on the 8th. It's in Teesside strangely enough. That's why its called the TeesPride. The local cyclo-cross league starts that day and I was intending to make a go of it this year, but the 'British Bakeoff' effect clearly has put these early season plans in doubt.  This is the second clash I've come across. The Simonside Fell Race is on later in September on the same weekend as the Dumfries Half. What to do? 

As the sugar levels dissipated, my sugar goggles began to fall away and I began to feel anxious. I couldn't stop myself confessing and spilled the beans to Aunt Aggie as she sat reading to one of the new Ferns in the back, speaking in prosaic, hushed and loving tones to it while listening to Franz Ferdinand in her over-sized Sennheisers.  When I'd finished telling her of my impetuosity, she just gave me a quizzical look, shrugged but continued with her reading.  Anyway, I presume the volume was too high and she didn't hear a word I said.
I think she was reading Coleridge. His reported forays into the psychedelic seems to have piqued her interest.  Despite her periodic wavering in support of the Indie rockers, she has been a stalwart of the garden, so I came away with no help from the worlds oldest proponent of evaporated milk with everything.  

So not much time to prepare for this poorly conceived onslaught of racing.

Refusing to be put off, I made an early start, tagging on two laps of the local track at the end of my 5 mile run with Mick in the early evening. Let's call him 'M' also. My illusions of getting near to sixty seconds for 400m looked well adrift and unconvincing as I struggled to crack seventy seconds for both laps. However, the Achilles stayed intact so there was some good news. 
Will Ally manage to better his PB on Thursday?.....Will he get a good lane draw and will Aunt Aggie  remember to pre-order the new FF album and what did Kubla Khan decree in his pleasure dome? Only time will tell......

Inertia on the achilles front

Inertia is the resistance of any physical object to any change in its motion.  Its a fundamental principle of physics, apparently.  Our young physics teacher, Mr Burnett, made a brave, but doomed effort to convey this conceptual gobbledygook to me all those years ago. My grey matter was having its own little inertia soiree around that time, swanning around a cerebral drawing room in a paisley patterned smoking jacket, fat cigar in hand, having hung signs over both my eyes and ears saying ' out to lunch'.  

Boredom is one manifestation of inertia. Apathy another. Much as I'd like to expand in detail about this phenomenon, cleverly dovetailing physics principles with running philosophy, I cant be a*sed. That's a good example. So, to cut to the quick, I will summarise Ally's first law of inertia thus:
The inertia acting on a body or mass is proportional to the amount of anticipated spend at the shops.
As always there is an exception to the rule. 
The first law of inertia is void where expenditure is on bike or running stuff'.

I put in some decent but not exceptional mileage last week. The recurring injury, inflammation of my achilles tendons is my achilles heal. They respond better to cycling than running, but best respond to inertia.

I've sat them down and threatened torture....stretching them on the stretching table, using 'the wheel' or even hanging them over the kerb of a busy road, but they refuse to submit. I've stopped short of the bringing in the inquisition as no one expects them. The surprise might be too great. Yesterday was the first day they (the achilles) have reverted to their previous occupations as bit part players in my sporting life. I've told them often enough how very important they are to the cause, but they're not big talkers. With a seed of hope taking root, I was able to push on a bit in last nights 9 mile road session.  If they behave themselves we might get some progress and a race or two might be in order. I can't stand the anticipation.