Playing with words.
After I finished the Transatlantic Way, I wanted to get something done. Enter something to keep me going. I had audaxes to book for my RrTY and wanted to decide whether to do and organise my third Torino Nice Rally or whether to commit to something else. I have it in my mind that next year I will either return to the Transatlantic Way or head up to Scotland for the Highland Trail race. So I had my eye on a few Scottish mountain bike and cyclo-cross enduro events. There's also the 3 Peaks Cyclo-cross in September where, the last few years, I have been steadily improving my time by doing the Torino Nice Rally 2-3 weeks before.
I've never been sure whether this leaves me just a little too tired to do my best in the race but actually, also, much fitter for the race given 300-odd miles of hilly mountain biking at altitude.
This year, I wanted enough cycling events to keep me trained but also the time to properly develop my hill running and be decently rested, not knackered and unsure of myself.
At first when I got back from TAW I thought I was in quite good form. I certainly looked the part - not an ounce of body fat on me last week (it's all back now). I was so used to getting through life tired, I felt positively perky without 100 miles to ride every day.
I managed a few gentle runs of a few kms each then last Friday I felt pretty good. The lads in the office announced they were off to the pub and since I'd brought my run kit, I decided to do my run then join them in the pub. I gave myself half an hour so I had to run the whole 7km loop - no walking this time. After 34 minutes, I ran through the pub doorway, ordered a sandwich and pint of tap water and put on the teeshirt I'd carried round in my hand - something nice to wear once I got to the bar!
On Saturday I went out for a ride with Norton Wheelers which was extremely short lived as they rode away into the distance so I went off and did my own 135km ride to make up for it. It was bloody hilly and I cruised all the hills in a way that I have not known the day after my first 7km run in a while.
I made it out to Pym Chair on the edge of Cheshire and rode above the aeroplanes queing up to land in Manchester Airport. Instead of diverting South of Buxton as per my usual long ride out that way, I decided to ride straight home from Pym Chair. Buxton was quiet because football and I had 12 miles of the A6 pretty much to myself over to the edges of the Peak where I could get off the A6 and ride into Tideswell for an icecream.
It was hot and tiring and I fell into bed again when I got home. Needless to say, I gave myself a few days rest, with only one ride to work until Wednesday when England were due to be playing again.
I met up with TSK and Mr Landsley in Eccleshall and wet set out at a moderate pace to go for a pint in Great Longstone, a pub called The Crispin, after my friend.
It was a beautiful ride - the sun was shining, the cars were few and far between and when we arrived at the pub everyone was happy because we had scored a goal.
The beer was really good and so a second one was purchased and we went into sad mode as another goal was scored - this time by the wrong team - still, at least we had extra time to make the journey home.
I left in twilight with a couple of guys who had neglected their rear lighting over the summer and so I did duty at the back whilst charging TSK's light on my dynamo whilst Mr L rode on the front in his bright orange coat.
After the first long descent, TSK had enough red rear light for them to ride ahead up Froggatt leaving me to enjoy the ride at my own pace - one which I was pretty happy with. TSK waited for me at the top and then we waved to Mr L as we passed him chatting with other friends in the carpark at Lady Cannings, suspectedly trying to procure a rear light.
We rolled into Crookes about 10:45 pm and bought pizza for tea, Dominos staying open 5 minutes late to let us finish eating sitting down.
It's no wonder my legs felt empty for two more days after all this activity and yet, I felt more tired than I have ever known. I keep trying to remind myself just what I have achieved but it wasn't until 5pm on Friday night I started to feel anywhere near normal.
Just in time for me to go out running yesterday.
Not sure what was best - balancing on a knife edge of tapering and not over-dooing it and desperate to get out an enjoy myself I did a deal to run/walk up to a path I particuarly wanted to investigate. I took TSK with me as a talisman and set about a relaxed intervals session including quite a lot of walking on the steeps, some running on steeps with recovery on flat and always running downhill except for the tricky stuff. I'm still re-acquiring ankle and foot strength so didn't want to overdo it.
51 minutes later we were at 5km (incidentally, the speed of my first 5km run after TAW). TSK decided to head back on the road, I persevered to my path which turned out to be quite far out on the Rivelin Valley and by the time I got to it I was in no way tempted to go further. In retrospect I probably should have gone exploring rather than continuing on to the end of the Rivelin Reservoirs, down to the dam, up the other side of the valley to avoid the road run then finally dropping back onto the valley-bottom road at 12km with 4km still left to do. Whilst I knew my legs were tired, I knew I was better off doing a steady run than walking the whole thing which would have taken bloody ages.
I pulled out for an ice cream at the park and then walked up the hill to home.
A really satisfying 10 miles.
SO what to do with a recovery Sunday?
Well, there's a parcel coming with my name on it - a saddle. One final ditch attempt to find myself a little more comfort on the bike than the Selle Italia. I'm not sure it's possible but in the rush to find something suitable for TAW I lost the old ISM saddle so I am trying it's fatter brother the ISM PR 3.0. I'm almost hoping I can wait in for that.
There's bike fettling to be done for next weekend to make sure I have ALL my gears and replacement of an ever-tenuous front deraileur cable whose strands disappear ever further into the recesses of the captive bolt.
There's bags to be packed and a tentative campsite to be booked and a car to be loaded because Thursday is going to come all too soon and on Friday I drive to Galashiels and chill out before the big event.
For the 400 I need a bag that gives me space to store enough food and comfort clothes to get me through the night. Despite two motorway services in the thick of things, there's still over 100km of open road between two controls and whilst food may be available from pubs etc., I am planning to carry enough on-bike nutrition there to save myself the stopping time that comes with ordering pub food and waiting for it to arrive.
There's a time plan to be written to get me through this thing in one piece and, hopefully, keep my RrTY dream alive because if I fail at this one, there's no time to re-sit - short of cancelling a booked day off work and riding a 200k two days after my failed 400. Hmmm.
In short, there's remembering all the things I need to do to ride an audax. All the things I need to have (or not have) because I don't get the chance to sleep by the side of the road before waking up 8 hours later and finishing the thing.
Taking me 26 hours (at worst), for all my running friends, this, is the equivalent of your 100kms stuff.
Come on recovery gods - do your thing.
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