I went out for a ride yesterday.
I enjoyed TSK's company for the first 50k of the ride out to a little cafe bookshop on the edge of Derbyshire. We stopped at Hope on the way for traditional second breakfast then lunched on oatcakes before he headed home in a round about way and I set off into the Goyt Valley to play on some hills.
First I rode over the Cat & Fiddle like it was the easiest thing in the world then dropped down into the Goyt at Lamaload reservoir and hauled up a few 30% rises in amongst the 20% ones. After that it eased off to the usual climb over Whingather rocks and Pym Chair to drop down towards Whaley Bridge, from where I planned to ride to Glossop on main roads before heading home.
However, I got distracted by some fine little lanes coming off the Kettleshulme Road and joined them to do some exploring. I wondered why my dad had never taken me this way when I was a kid. The sign, "Not Suitable for motor vehicles" is sometimes welcome, sometimes bad news. This one certainly had me on the brakes and then off them again really quickly as I hit large swathes of gravel.
I kept my Dignity (literally, managed to keep the bike up and me on top of it) then set about the climb back out as the needle hit 30% again and my heart rate hit 180. I realised why dad never took me this way as I stared at the road, 4 feet from my face and started to haul up the other side. Mind you, my legs were still in pretty good shape at this point.
I mean I'd only done 70km.
Down the other side and I dropped into a little village, looking at the Garmin I was heading for New Mills and then Hadfield. It took me a while to realise that the village was Disley on the A6! One wrong turn and I'd be in Stockport in 10 minutes. I had inadvertently almost ridden to my parents house and still had to get home with my legs full of hill.
I set about finding a nice way into Glossop from Disley. I squirrelled between Hayfield and Marple (Marple!) past places like Thornsett and Mellor - places I'd heard of but never been. I popped out on to a main road to be passed by some knob in a blue fiesta who was clearly so threatened by me he needed to roar his engine as he passed. OK the legs were starting to get tired now.
We both took a turn into the Rowarth road. I hesitated at the end to check the map as there was a dead end sign on the post at the end of the lane. There seemed to be a bridlepath through and I hesitated as to whether to go that way but concluded that: I had the right bike, it wasn't far, it's been dry, the benefit outweighed the inconvenience, I could always turn around and come back. Both me and Mr angry overshot the lane into the village. I waited patiently for him to roar past the other way whilst I turned around in the road then followed him up to the carpark whereby I passed him as he poured all his offspring out in the carpark, like a woodlouse releasing its young, and started heading for the pub.
I bounced steadily over the speed bumps designed to prevent intrepid motorists continuing. I saw my bridlepath but continued along the lane in hope, only to find it barred by a Private Road gate so I retraced and tackled the gravel and baby's head boulders.
It was only around 300m long and spit me out onto another pleasant lane which eventually took me up to the Hayfield - Charlesworth road which I doubled-back on to join the Chunnal descent into Glossop.
Yeah, I was finally properly cooked. It was 4:30pm and hungry.
A wavering motorist hanging right without any indicators then changing to a left turn had me slamming on the brakes and skidding in the road. That woke me up and reduced me to a shaking bundle of mess as I walked into the Glossop Costa, by now in dire need of cooling down, caffeinating and a feed.
I sat on the bench outside. 2135m of climbing in 97km. Oops. That's good. Only the Snake Pass to go.
It took me a while to get warmed up but once I did I enjoyed the Snake immensely. I didn't have much gusto left but I just churned it out. 1hr 44 mins to the front door, including a swing up to Moscar Top to try and sneak a few more metres climbing.
It was dinner time when I got in after 133km and 2688m of up. Vaguely tempted to go out and bag a further 70km on the flat after dinner to round it up but not really. The last stage of the tour was calling, to watch the presentation we missed last weekend.
Showing posts with label hill climbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hill climbing. Show all posts
Sunday, August 05, 2018
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Bollocks to that
No excuses. I am done wasting my holiday sitting on the sofa with the computer (a very productive day yesterday planning a ride I'm gonna do in 2 weeks time but still, I didn't get dressed until 3pm).
At 4pm I got on the rollers, it seemed like a poor excuse for exercise and as I set myself up I contemplated adding more layers of clothing and my light and heading out the door for a short, dark ride - anything - just to get up the hill and back down again but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I got on the rollers and full-on sulked for the first 20 minutes of the ride and faffed with my shoes and my saddle. I finally got comfortable enough and turned my music up load enough to properly enjoy it and bashed out 28 miles but it really wasn't that rewarding, balancing between the radiator and the washing machine and staring at the back door. I rode fast and hard to beat myself up and felt like some kind of sick addict, not the well balanced, happy athlete that I'd like to be.
I felt like I'd achieved nothing except the mental insurance that I was knackered enough to get a decent night's sleep - and sleep I did.
So, today I had to ride.
Still, I spent most of the morning on the computer getting a job out of the way I've been leaving for a while - buying new wheels for the bike - a dynamo hub on the front and 32 spokes on each wheel - insurance for if any ping on my trip!
We finally made it out at 11:30 which is dangerous because lunch pangs are starting.
We had an early stop planned at the Adventure Cafe in Castleton before something else. That early stop almost got shortened further as it started snowing on us going over Moscar and then turned to torrential sleet / hail at Ladybower dam.
We coated up but by the time we'd reached Bamford lights it was starting to brighten so we reverted to plan A.
Blissful that they had space in the caf, we demolished lunch and extra coffee before heading back out. It had been bright but as soon as we stuck our noses out the door it started to sleet again. If this was my punishment for spending 2 days indoors then I accept it with open arms. I love being prepared for horrendous conditions. I feel like I am perfectly and hermetically sealed.
TSK has done plenty of riding the last two days so he headed home whilst I set out for more. I fancied having a go at Winnats Pass in extreme conditions. God knows how I was going to get back - there was some kind of plan involving a long ride around on main roads... whatever, it felt like an interesting challenge.
I started the road up out of Hope in glorious sunshine, finally and couldn't help myself stop to take this photo.
I pulled off the road and stood in a gate way to take the pic, my bike tucked onto the grass verge alongside the pavement. My bike took up no more space than a human stopping to take a picture would although the stink eye I got from well heeled passers by was excruciating. Clearly I was messing up their neat and tidy trip out to a country pub day by being sweaty and in their way... or maybe they were just jealous that I didn't pay to park.
Within 100m of the turn which forms the start of the climb, I knew I was in trouble. Where I'd expected to be out of the wind in the lee of the climb, instead, the freezing cold air from above was hurtling down the hill like a wind-tunnel, channelled between the rock faces that form the sides of Winnats Pass.
I crossed the cattle grid, already standing hard on the pedals and without any gears left. I'd kind of expected this road to have been gritted as it's a tourist hot spot and through-route to Manchester but no, it was slushy. Probably rideable under-tyre but with the wind, practically impossible. My lunch weighed heavy in my belly and I turned around and freewheeled back out, stopping to go through the gate instead of cross the cattle grid.
Two lads going the other way on bikes looked at my quizically as they must have seen me bail, I reassured them it was "probably passable but I couldn't be arsed with the wind" and then rode off to leave them to their choices.
I headed into Hathersage next to pick up some stuff that's on my TAW shopping list and then back-tracked to the Grindleford Road.
I couldn't help a trip out to Eyam. Somehow I convinced myself it would be less blowy and less icy.
Initially it was, then it got worse where motorists had persevered. I rode the steep bit (protected from the weather by its gradient) but then had to get off to walk on the ice higher up as there wasn't enough traction for my road tyres which occasionally kicked out worryingly. I got fed up of taking in short sharp breaths - and holding it - whilst trying to ride and I had far too much adrenaline in me now. I walked all the way to the top.
On flatter terrain I managed to ride again. A few motorists were leaving the parking area at the start of the off-road trail. I stuck to my guns and rode in the tyre tracks - slightly clearer of ice than anywhere else on the road. At the top it was particularly icy and one Audi driver stopped by the side of the road ahead.
I wasn't sure if he was waiting to check I was OK, or what but he brought my attention to the condition of the road - sheet ice across, crunchy in some places, hard as nails in others. I tentatively shimmied across it. He pulled away as I looked more stable and competent. I don't know if he was looking out for me or not but he sure was in a nice spot. With him gone, there was no-one around. The place was absolutely silent. I took out my phone to capture the wonderful sunset and the moon contrasting with the snow and green grass on the other side of the road. As ever, it didn't capture the wonder but hey, I've got evidence I was happy and I think mostly it was the silence I was photographing.
I slithered on down the hill, staying on top of the brakes all the way down to Eyam, just in case. A brief respite through the well-travelled village then back up the other side, along the broken road back towards Grindleford. The broken road was so clear on the broken bit that I nearly let my guard down and had a sketchy moment as I rejoined the tarmac right in front of a family who warned me that the rest of the road was also badly icy. Phew. Not too far to the main road.
Although I'd enjoyed my silent moment, it was nice to get back to the steady flow of traffic - or rather the knowledge that I could plough on at full speed without too much of a worry. Up to form and flying up on to Froggat which I enjoyed, mainly because it was warm - and because I was motoring along quite nicely thank you very much.
A few cautious moments over the top where the lovely council had kindly put "ice!" warning signs out to notify road users of places where streams and such tend to cross the road but they were mostly clear. As the sun disappeared, I was happy to be heading for home with the traffic.
Deciding not to risk the back-lanes home, I stayed on the main road into Eccleshall - one which I don't normally enjoy because of the traffic but today I appreciated its fast, ice free descent almost as much as I appreciated the long climb back up through Broomhill and Crookes to get me warm again following 17 minutes of freewheeling down hill in a gentle shower of front-wheel spray.
I full-on beat three motorists at the game of "stop at the zebra crossing for the pedestrian" before wobbling cautiously down the pavement to my own home for 5pm to an army of cuddly cats and TSK.
That, people, knocked the socks off beating myself up on the rollers whilst staring at the cat flap yesterday.
At 4pm I got on the rollers, it seemed like a poor excuse for exercise and as I set myself up I contemplated adding more layers of clothing and my light and heading out the door for a short, dark ride - anything - just to get up the hill and back down again but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I got on the rollers and full-on sulked for the first 20 minutes of the ride and faffed with my shoes and my saddle. I finally got comfortable enough and turned my music up load enough to properly enjoy it and bashed out 28 miles but it really wasn't that rewarding, balancing between the radiator and the washing machine and staring at the back door. I rode fast and hard to beat myself up and felt like some kind of sick addict, not the well balanced, happy athlete that I'd like to be.
I felt like I'd achieved nothing except the mental insurance that I was knackered enough to get a decent night's sleep - and sleep I did.
So, today I had to ride.
Still, I spent most of the morning on the computer getting a job out of the way I've been leaving for a while - buying new wheels for the bike - a dynamo hub on the front and 32 spokes on each wheel - insurance for if any ping on my trip!
We finally made it out at 11:30 which is dangerous because lunch pangs are starting.
We had an early stop planned at the Adventure Cafe in Castleton before something else. That early stop almost got shortened further as it started snowing on us going over Moscar and then turned to torrential sleet / hail at Ladybower dam.
We coated up but by the time we'd reached Bamford lights it was starting to brighten so we reverted to plan A.
Blissful that they had space in the caf, we demolished lunch and extra coffee before heading back out. It had been bright but as soon as we stuck our noses out the door it started to sleet again. If this was my punishment for spending 2 days indoors then I accept it with open arms. I love being prepared for horrendous conditions. I feel like I am perfectly and hermetically sealed.
TSK has done plenty of riding the last two days so he headed home whilst I set out for more. I fancied having a go at Winnats Pass in extreme conditions. God knows how I was going to get back - there was some kind of plan involving a long ride around on main roads... whatever, it felt like an interesting challenge.
I started the road up out of Hope in glorious sunshine, finally and couldn't help myself stop to take this photo.
I pulled off the road and stood in a gate way to take the pic, my bike tucked onto the grass verge alongside the pavement. My bike took up no more space than a human stopping to take a picture would although the stink eye I got from well heeled passers by was excruciating. Clearly I was messing up their neat and tidy trip out to a country pub day by being sweaty and in their way... or maybe they were just jealous that I didn't pay to park.
Within 100m of the turn which forms the start of the climb, I knew I was in trouble. Where I'd expected to be out of the wind in the lee of the climb, instead, the freezing cold air from above was hurtling down the hill like a wind-tunnel, channelled between the rock faces that form the sides of Winnats Pass.
I crossed the cattle grid, already standing hard on the pedals and without any gears left. I'd kind of expected this road to have been gritted as it's a tourist hot spot and through-route to Manchester but no, it was slushy. Probably rideable under-tyre but with the wind, practically impossible. My lunch weighed heavy in my belly and I turned around and freewheeled back out, stopping to go through the gate instead of cross the cattle grid.
Two lads going the other way on bikes looked at my quizically as they must have seen me bail, I reassured them it was "probably passable but I couldn't be arsed with the wind" and then rode off to leave them to their choices.
I headed into Hathersage next to pick up some stuff that's on my TAW shopping list and then back-tracked to the Grindleford Road.
I couldn't help a trip out to Eyam. Somehow I convinced myself it would be less blowy and less icy.
Initially it was, then it got worse where motorists had persevered. I rode the steep bit (protected from the weather by its gradient) but then had to get off to walk on the ice higher up as there wasn't enough traction for my road tyres which occasionally kicked out worryingly. I got fed up of taking in short sharp breaths - and holding it - whilst trying to ride and I had far too much adrenaline in me now. I walked all the way to the top.
On flatter terrain I managed to ride again. A few motorists were leaving the parking area at the start of the off-road trail. I stuck to my guns and rode in the tyre tracks - slightly clearer of ice than anywhere else on the road. At the top it was particularly icy and one Audi driver stopped by the side of the road ahead.
I wasn't sure if he was waiting to check I was OK, or what but he brought my attention to the condition of the road - sheet ice across, crunchy in some places, hard as nails in others. I tentatively shimmied across it. He pulled away as I looked more stable and competent. I don't know if he was looking out for me or not but he sure was in a nice spot. With him gone, there was no-one around. The place was absolutely silent. I took out my phone to capture the wonderful sunset and the moon contrasting with the snow and green grass on the other side of the road. As ever, it didn't capture the wonder but hey, I've got evidence I was happy and I think mostly it was the silence I was photographing.
I slithered on down the hill, staying on top of the brakes all the way down to Eyam, just in case. A brief respite through the well-travelled village then back up the other side, along the broken road back towards Grindleford. The broken road was so clear on the broken bit that I nearly let my guard down and had a sketchy moment as I rejoined the tarmac right in front of a family who warned me that the rest of the road was also badly icy. Phew. Not too far to the main road.
Although I'd enjoyed my silent moment, it was nice to get back to the steady flow of traffic - or rather the knowledge that I could plough on at full speed without too much of a worry. Up to form and flying up on to Froggat which I enjoyed, mainly because it was warm - and because I was motoring along quite nicely thank you very much.
A few cautious moments over the top where the lovely council had kindly put "ice!" warning signs out to notify road users of places where streams and such tend to cross the road but they were mostly clear. As the sun disappeared, I was happy to be heading for home with the traffic.
Deciding not to risk the back-lanes home, I stayed on the main road into Eccleshall - one which I don't normally enjoy because of the traffic but today I appreciated its fast, ice free descent almost as much as I appreciated the long climb back up through Broomhill and Crookes to get me warm again following 17 minutes of freewheeling down hill in a gentle shower of front-wheel spray.
I full-on beat three motorists at the game of "stop at the zebra crossing for the pedestrian" before wobbling cautiously down the pavement to my own home for 5pm to an army of cuddly cats and TSK.
That, people, knocked the socks off beating myself up on the rollers whilst staring at the cat flap yesterday.
Friday, March 24, 2017
The Magnificent 7
Recce fresh / Racing tired
1 - Hangram - 7:16 vs 6:47
2 - Blake Street - 1:44 vs 1:28
3 - Thrush Street - 2:35 vs 2:12
4 - West Lane - 11:30 vs 10:28
5 - Jawbone Hill - 11:24 vs 10:14
6 - Hagg Hill - 4:47 + 2:49 = 7:38 vs 7:45
7 - Foxhill - 4:12 vs 11:56 vs a different route
1 - Hangram - 7:16 vs 6:47
2 - Blake Street - 1:44 vs 1:28
3 - Thrush Street - 2:35 vs 2:12
4 - West Lane - 11:30 vs 10:28
5 - Jawbone Hill - 11:24 vs 10:14
6 - Hagg Hill - 4:47 + 2:49 = 7:38 vs 7:45
7 - Foxhill - 4:12 vs 11:56 vs a different route
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Things to be proud of this week
In pursuit of "experiences not things", when my seat post broke this week I took time to go to my local bike shop and found a bit that cost me £2 in their beer-fund tip pot instead of £50 for a new (much coveted Thompson) seat post.
Instead of saying "no" to a fun event in Sheffield where lots of people I admire will be riding bikes, I spent a full day cleaning bikes thinking, "if it's still open this evening I will enter it". It was open. I did enter it - much to my horror. It is less than 24 hours after the start of a national-level duathlon world qualifier event in Clumber park.
I went online to spend a voucher I got for Christmas. In the end I put 5 items in my cart including a skirt, the shoes that will forever resolve my issues with wearing skirts and a few tops in order to help me make my mind up and one pair of work pants. The total value was £146. I removed all items until I was left with the work pants at a much reduced (thank you Aunty Anne) value of £30 to me.
It's a boring and practical present but I will wear them with joy.
I went out and recce'd the ride I've entered. The point is to race up various hills in Sheffield. We will then be escorted at an (allegedly) easy pace to the next hill by a lead car. I rode to the start (as I had intended to do on the day) and in doing so, I inadvertently completed some of the 6th and the whole of the last hill climb of the route.
Retracing some of my steps, I started the ride and got the second climb out of the way without incident - although it became apparent that it would be useful to know where these climbs end so that I can put the proportionate effort into each one.
The third one was rather close to home. The dreaded Blake Street. The hard part is avoiding the pub at the top. Then it was a roller-coaster ride around Walkley to the scary Fern and Thrush Street which has a cobbled top. At this point I could have fallen into my own back yard but I persevered back around in a circle and into the Loxley Valley for a little jaunt up next to the Garden Centre. I've only ridden this climb a couple of times and probably bailed out at the garden centre for tea as a result. I definitely had to dig deep on this one and was glad it was over...
Over the hill to Oughtibridge more like.
I've never linked these two places together (REEEEALLY?) in my head. I crossed the one way system in Oughtibridge and set off up the climb. Sooo steep at the beginning. Me and this hill had history. I paused to wonder whether to continue. Where did the route go next? I zoomed out and discovered that this climb was an out and back. How would I know I could do this ride if I gave up though? But I *know* this climb - why bother? I could rest up for next week. But something made me keep going - stubbornness, a need to know how hard it will be next week? I don't know but I was glad I did. Eventually the road relented and I set about enjoying the climb all the way to the top then looped around and let rip back down the hill (the direction I usually use it).
There was a nice long recovery ride and plenty of downhills to Middlewood before I was confused into thinking I was snagging another hill where the ride cuts around Dunella Road back to Malin Bridge.
Dunella Road is steep and it's not even on the list of climbs that we're racing. I could hardly get up but thankfully we turn off and descend through the edges of Wadsley to the Rivelin Valley.
Time to go up the Rivelin Valley to the dreaded Hagg Hill. I never ride up this and it's yet another climb on my doorstep. This one nearly had me off and walking. I managed a couple of zig zags in between cars but otherwise I was lurching between standing and sitting and wheezing through my final breath as I rounded the top corner of Hagg Hill. It's the 6th climb of the day and I bailed out half way and turned for home (the actual race climb continues to the top of Stephen Hill Road which I had ridden in the morning). Although my intention had been to ride back to the finish and then ride home, my legs weren't going to make it. I'd done the route (albeit in a funny order) and now I know my limits.
Something tells me I won't be riding out to the start next week but I did it as a leisure ride in 3 hours when the anticipated race time is 4 hours so I should survive, in theory so long as I don't have to wait around too much. I'll be riding most of the ride in a peloton and there won't be any traffic light stops. On the flip side, I'll be exhausted from racing the day before.
Last year I said I wouldn't say no to anything and this is just a (somewhat foolish) extension of that. As part of my vision that this stuff is just things that I do day in / day out (give or take the odd rest day), it all contributes to me getting off the sofa more often than not.
Roll on next week.
Instead of saying "no" to a fun event in Sheffield where lots of people I admire will be riding bikes, I spent a full day cleaning bikes thinking, "if it's still open this evening I will enter it". It was open. I did enter it - much to my horror. It is less than 24 hours after the start of a national-level duathlon world qualifier event in Clumber park.
I went online to spend a voucher I got for Christmas. In the end I put 5 items in my cart including a skirt, the shoes that will forever resolve my issues with wearing skirts and a few tops in order to help me make my mind up and one pair of work pants. The total value was £146. I removed all items until I was left with the work pants at a much reduced (thank you Aunty Anne) value of £30 to me.
It's a boring and practical present but I will wear them with joy.
I went out and recce'd the ride I've entered. The point is to race up various hills in Sheffield. We will then be escorted at an (allegedly) easy pace to the next hill by a lead car. I rode to the start (as I had intended to do on the day) and in doing so, I inadvertently completed some of the 6th and the whole of the last hill climb of the route.
Retracing some of my steps, I started the ride and got the second climb out of the way without incident - although it became apparent that it would be useful to know where these climbs end so that I can put the proportionate effort into each one.
The third one was rather close to home. The dreaded Blake Street. The hard part is avoiding the pub at the top. Then it was a roller-coaster ride around Walkley to the scary Fern and Thrush Street which has a cobbled top. At this point I could have fallen into my own back yard but I persevered back around in a circle and into the Loxley Valley for a little jaunt up next to the Garden Centre. I've only ridden this climb a couple of times and probably bailed out at the garden centre for tea as a result. I definitely had to dig deep on this one and was glad it was over...
Over the hill to Oughtibridge more like.
I've never linked these two places together (REEEEALLY?) in my head. I crossed the one way system in Oughtibridge and set off up the climb. Sooo steep at the beginning. Me and this hill had history. I paused to wonder whether to continue. Where did the route go next? I zoomed out and discovered that this climb was an out and back. How would I know I could do this ride if I gave up though? But I *know* this climb - why bother? I could rest up for next week. But something made me keep going - stubbornness, a need to know how hard it will be next week? I don't know but I was glad I did. Eventually the road relented and I set about enjoying the climb all the way to the top then looped around and let rip back down the hill (the direction I usually use it).
There was a nice long recovery ride and plenty of downhills to Middlewood before I was confused into thinking I was snagging another hill where the ride cuts around Dunella Road back to Malin Bridge.
Dunella Road is steep and it's not even on the list of climbs that we're racing. I could hardly get up but thankfully we turn off and descend through the edges of Wadsley to the Rivelin Valley.
Time to go up the Rivelin Valley to the dreaded Hagg Hill. I never ride up this and it's yet another climb on my doorstep. This one nearly had me off and walking. I managed a couple of zig zags in between cars but otherwise I was lurching between standing and sitting and wheezing through my final breath as I rounded the top corner of Hagg Hill. It's the 6th climb of the day and I bailed out half way and turned for home (the actual race climb continues to the top of Stephen Hill Road which I had ridden in the morning). Although my intention had been to ride back to the finish and then ride home, my legs weren't going to make it. I'd done the route (albeit in a funny order) and now I know my limits.
Something tells me I won't be riding out to the start next week but I did it as a leisure ride in 3 hours when the anticipated race time is 4 hours so I should survive, in theory so long as I don't have to wait around too much. I'll be riding most of the ride in a peloton and there won't be any traffic light stops. On the flip side, I'll be exhausted from racing the day before.
Last year I said I wouldn't say no to anything and this is just a (somewhat foolish) extension of that. As part of my vision that this stuff is just things that I do day in / day out (give or take the odd rest day), it all contributes to me getting off the sofa more often than not.
Roll on next week.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
July 2011 Stats
I've been looking forwards to this for a while.
Running - 50.31km, 7.6km/hr, el. 1237m (Walking 14.84km)
Cycling - 495km, 19km/hr, el. 6304m
Swimming 7.72km, 2.5km/hr
Considering my run distance for Helvellyn is shorter (but steeper) and the ride has so much bearing on the race, I'm very happy with this. My running distances are still up around 50km despite the fact I only have to do 13km this time. My cycling distance is really pleasing. Over 100km more than recent months & this time last year.
Just look at that bike elevation though!!!
Running - 50.31km, 7.6km/hr, el. 1237m (Walking 14.84km)
Cycling - 495km, 19km/hr, el. 6304m
Swimming 7.72km, 2.5km/hr
Considering my run distance for Helvellyn is shorter (but steeper) and the ride has so much bearing on the race, I'm very happy with this. My running distances are still up around 50km despite the fact I only have to do 13km this time. My cycling distance is really pleasing. Over 100km more than recent months & this time last year.
Just look at that bike elevation though!!!
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