Suffering

Oh god, I’m suffering as only I seem to be able to. For days I have had so many seperate things that I wanted to write about that they clogged and formed a bottleneck in my fingers. Argghhh. Afflicted. Something had to be done. But what? How to decide what spews forth first? It’s so hard being this self involved, suggest you don’t take it up, stay here and listen to me garble instead….

Prioritise. First things first, in chronological order I guess the first thing is tomorrow. I chucked myself in at the deep end, tomorrow I’m going to sort of lead my first ride. I say sort of; Elaine will be there to lead me leading everyone else, bless her. I’m glad she offered because I’m scared. I did a drive through of the route she suggested today, it’s rolling but it’s a beauty. There are some challenging ups and some lovely downs, there’s some fabulous scenery and some brilliant roads, there’s also the cafe stop at Brocksbushes where they have an absolute plethora of home made cakes. I raved about this ride when Elaine the Fabulous led it a few weeks ago and I can’t wait to ride it again. I found myself driving the return journey almost unwittingly the exact same way Elaine led it. I can’t think of a better route there or back. And then, to make me feel even better Mr Holmes  (AKA Super Al) has offered his assistance too. I’m nervous but looking forward to it bigly.

The only question is with And away lost weekending it would anyone like to volunteer to take the Saturday photo?

Second thing second: The next thing is the Tyneside Vagabonds Mountain Time Trial. I’m looking forward to marshalling (wave as you pass me, mwa haha)  and very excited about baking some cakes and stuff . I’m very proud of the fellow Vags who have so bravely entered. I’m equally as proud of the Wansbeck CC members (my second club) who have entered. Better still is the entry of the Household Cyclist who is a Wansbeck member. Please give some loud support to number 37. He last rode this course in 2007 and I have some very fond memories. Now I’m a cyclist in my own right ( I think, maybe or summat. lol)  I can sort of see it from a riders point of view and it makes marshalling far more interesting.

Good luck to everyone. There had better be good cake!

Third fourth fifth sixth seventh ad infinitum well that can all wait, it was nothing hugely pressing. I hope. I’ll see some of you tomorrow, please be gentle with me.

Ouch OUch OUCH

Yesterday I was a gal with a plan.. Get a lift to Pont, ride with the Vags to Stannington then go home from there. I couldn’t do it, the weather was too good and the company too nice. I rode back to Pont where the Lovely Super Al gave me a lift home. Why did I need to get a shorter run in? The household cyclist had signed us both up for the Wansbeck CC’s first annual (hopefully) reliability ride. I was very very nervous and apprehensive and needed fresh legs to stand a hope of just making it round. so yes, a lovely 27 miles yesterday. How about today?  

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Well, the day started badly and pretty much went downhill from there. First there was the mysterious disappearance of the shed keys, you know, the shed where the bikes live… cue ransacking of the house and ingenious use of kitchen knife to get into the shed.. Then there was shouting and whinging and bitching on the ride to Morpeth to meet the other riders. We were in the slow group (of course we were) so had to set off early. Eight riders including us set off out of Morpeth (route here http://j.mp/9KHa0p ) and there was hell. Pretty much 30 or so miles of me being left behind on the interminable UPs. Sick as a dog and cursing myself and everyone else for biting off more than I could chew. I did not enjoy the ride to Bellingham, well, that’s not strictly true, I did enjoy the trip down the Ryals and I remembered my promise to myself to not brake the next time I tried it. 50 mph down the Ryals, now that is my idea of fun :). At Whygate the group turned off to put a loop in. Taking pity on me they sent us the more direct route. Riding with just the household cyclist and myself was somewhat more enjoyable, there was less pressure to keep up and it was nice to enjoy a rare ride out with my far more experienced husband. The stop at the cafe was interesting, soup, a sandwich and a cuppa were included in the entry.

Nice little interlude, it was good to talk to the other riders (we totalled 16 in all) and the food was pretty good (random cafe in a library in Bellingham?) but coming out for the return leg and the weather had made a turn for the evil. Great. Now we were heading towards Redesmouth and up something they referred to as Vomit Pass. That.Was.Torture. Big thanks to Michael Maley both for the very much appreciated babysit and especially for not talking to me. I cannot climb and talk without the urge to murder. Actually, I cannot climb anyway. oh well. That was torture. Evil, Evil torture. At the top someone had the bright idea of telling me that it was all downhill after than. Aye, right, across a rolling moor into a headwind in the driving drizzle. Blummin liars. There was at some point a moment where just myself and the Household Cyclist were well off the back and I stopped and refused to go on, I genuinely thought I had nothing left to give and I was scared and very very frustrated at myself. Why can’t I do up? why? ARRGGGhhhh. Turns out I was full of manure, I got a telling from the Household Cyclist and carry on I did. On through Cambo, into Mitford, on the flat I was much happier, riding at 20 mph or thereabouts. The Household Cyclist tells me that’s a respectable pace but what good is that if I’m dropped on every hill? Up Dogger Bank and into Morpeth. Done, finished. Mr Iain Bolton kindly offered me a lift home and most of the next 7 miles were spent cold and wet wondering why I didn’t take it. Sounds like the day from hell to me.

Home after a hot bath and a bar of chocolate I feel a little different. It definitely was a very very difficult and frustrating day for me. I definitely was the weakest rider there. I definitely hurt now. I certainly bit off more than I could chew.

But see, I made it round. And home. As the Household Cyclist kept pointing out I’ve only been a cyclist for six or seven months and the frustration is just the stubbornness that drives me on. Not oy was today the longest ride of my life but it contained 2700 foot of up. 2700 foot that I did. The elevation graph seems to show the climb out of Bellingham as 1100 foot. I’ll post it as soon as figure out how to upload it (anybody know? I’m using Cyclemeter).

There were histrionics from me, there were lazer stares and general ill humour, there were fallings out with the Household Cyclist, there were swears at everyone and everything but I am glad I tried. I’m sure I should feel proud but that driven stubbornness means I just don’t feel like a good enough cyclist yet. Next year I will be ready…

Oh, and the keys were in the Junior Cyclist’s old trike outside, little begger. 😀

Stats

Dist     77.52

Time   6.10.49

Ave     12.5

Max     50

Edited to add: It was a good route, it was me that wasnt good enough, thanks to the Wanny CC for going to all that work. Keep it up 🙂

Oh! So That’s The Gibbet!

I left the house at 7:45 this morning to take the junior cyclist to breakfast club and pedalled off to meet my friend Mark for a nice day of attempting to master the hills. I’m not a hill climber and my calves were still stiff from the weekend. This did not bode well but I was determined to give it all I could. We turned right at Pegswood, left towards Hebron and then left towards the back of Morpeth. Coming up the hill through the housing estate I tried to change gear and missed, cue comic spluttering that somehow did not result in a fall. Then we rode through Pigdon and Netherwitton. Now I’m bad at directions but the original very loose plan was to go down the Gibbet, down Bilsmoor and up something called Vomit Pass. umm.      

We got through Netherwitton when Mark said something like “aren’t we heading for Rothbury now?” Umm, ok… Mark took us down the most amazing hill to Fontburn Reservoir, of course down always seems to result in up and this was a fair bit of up. On and on and on it went pretty much all the way past some invisible forest (Harwood?) till we passed a sign declaring us in National Park, I thought we already were so I just had to stop and take a photo.   

 

A joke was made about taking pictures of the bikes and I turned my head to the left. What’s that? Fred me, is that the Gibbet? It was, I checked. We had made it to the Gibbet, albeit the easier way but still I was proud. We had averaged about 10.7 mph for the ride in; all that remained was to make it down it for a spot of lunch. I do love a good descent, flying down at about 37 mph. We stopped for a toastie and irresistible cake at the Coach House. My god these cakes! proper homemade cake just full of care, and love, and sugar whooooooo. 

 

Now we just had to get back up it. I soo wanted to get back up it. I will learn to climb if it kills me and it may. > I DID IT. I got up the Gibbet. I got up it with pride and skill, slow but steady. I did that jersey proud Danny. At the top my leg were strong and my lungs were working and there was no stopping me. well, mostly. We went home through Cambo and the hills were everywhere I turned. I took them all, climbed them all, and even managed to accelerate once or twice. I felt like I was getting somewhere. Through Hartburn, up Dogger Bank, up Whorral bank to Bothal. Halfway up Bothal bank my legs just stopped. That’s amazing, 56 miles of lots of up and only now near to home do my legs start to give, I’m taking this as proof that I had judged my effort and my abilities just right. I left Mark to head home at Wansbeck park and went up towards Green Lane there’s a series of modest ups that way. I felt at this point that I didn’t want to go home, I wanted to turn round and do that all over again but hey, it was ten to three, I could pick the boy up from school. That was fun, standing in the school yard in lycra and road shoes holding little flying machines.   

Right, that’s the Gibbet experienced, next up are Bilsmoor and this Vomit Pass. I have plenty of time; I know for certain I could not have done this just one month ago. I am so very proud of myself, very grateful to Mark for a wonderful day. I really, really, really enjoyed it, especially the hills.   

I’m having arguments with the photo uploader, until I sort it out the rest of the photos are here  on my facebook: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=196431&id=576796753&l=f17e6baaa9. You don’t have to be my friend or even be on facebook to see them but feel free to send me a friend request if you feel like it ok?   

  

Stats  

dist            59.51 miles   

 time          5.02.42 hrs    

Avg           11.7 mph   

max          37.7 mph 

climbed  3140 feet ( I’m told)  

  

       

       

 

Danny the Champion of the Hills

What happened yesterday? Are you waiting with baited breath?

This is Danny, he has a special place in my journey. My first club ride was Danny’s first ride as a Ride Leader. Danny started from the same place as me. Fat. Look at him now. He’s a hotty huh?

This is me yesterday, I know you’ve seen it already but do you notice any similarities?

Danny gave me this jersey. It’s the King of the Mountains jersey. I joked with him that I wasn’t sure if that was support or sarcasm and he told me that when he first cycled the coast to coast he couldnt do the hills. He got the jersey as motivation and now he’s one hell of a cyclist. So he gave it to me as a way of saying “keep going, I know you will get there” Each time I meet Danny I both like and respect him more. He’s the best advert the Tyneside Vagabonds could have.

The Ride?

My day started differently than it usually would, the Household Cyclist only gets one Saturday in six off and this was it. I made us both breakfast, we both took the Junior Cyclist to grans, we both cycled to Ponteland to meet the club. Here he is;

Plays with the girls

The sunshine brought a lot of new faces but there were also a lot of regular faces missing. It wasn’t the most organised of starts and the group was a bit too big for comfort. It was also fast and a new rider suffered a mechanical failure that turned out to be unrepairable, riding at the back four of us stopped to assist him, eventually followed by Danny who was leading. Danny stayed with him and we set off to chase down the group. That was hard work but Dannys present helped, I may not have been the fastest but I was climbing after a fashion.  It has to be said that that was the fastest slow group I’ve ever ridden in! We got to the junction at the Dyke Neuk and us newer ladies staged a mini rebellion, opting for the slightly less hilly right turn while the rest of the group carried straight on. This was a lovely portion of the day. four ladies and the household cyclist, still giving it some welly but in a much more manageable group and we didn’t even get lost! cup of coffee well earned:

 

Then there was the slightly less frenetic ride home where I lasted almost the whole way into Ponteland without being at the back. That made me feel good. Cuppa, chat and the ride home. Danny, I did that jersey proud, I was almost at the top of Berwick Hill before Andy caught me 😀 We parted company with Suzy Gonzales and And at Blagdon and had a lovely ride home  with the Household Cyclist honorably shielding me from the evil wind in places. On that note I’d like to thank him for coming out before May (he’s strictly a summer rider and yet stays fit somehow!) and also for cleaning my bike for me so I could have a bath and a catnap before attempting a painful 1 mile commute to work.

It was a strange ride where the lines seemed to blur between the fast, medium and slow group. I know I averaged 13.4 miles per hour over a 60 mile ride. I’m happy with that.

I spent today at the finish line of the Wansbeck CC Pursuit race and even got to take numbers at the end. Andy and Simon took some great photos. It was an experience to see it as a cyclist and not just a bored wife. Please come back tomorrow so I can tell you all about it, it was a great day out for us.

Big Girls Bike-The Maiden Voyage

 

Who ever had the idea of putting on their kids party at the football club yesterday deserves thanks for the lovely day I’ve had. Lager and the words ” you busy tomorrow?” what a great combination. The first picture is Sarah, she’s the Mum of the Junior Cyclists classmate and yes, that’s a mountain bike she’s holding. Sarah’s been riding for about 8 weeks and today was her third ride out with me. In my special cheeky style I decided to show her the way to the meeting point for the Saturday club ride as she keeps telling me she wants to work her way up to riding with us. Let me tell you about our biggrin day today.

 

I woke up to the unprecedented sight of blue in the sky. OMG, what to do what to do? Was it finally time for my first ever ride on a road bike, I rather thought so. After taking the junior cyclist to school I had just enough time to sit around on MSN, drink coffee and put pedals on the road bike ( I have road pedals but no shoes yet so have to swap the SPDs between the tourer and the Focus) before Sarah arrived. Quick cuppa with Sarah, a lecture on decent pedals and a heads up on a second-hand road bike for her and off we go. We may have been a funny sight, me on my tiny road bike (well it feels that way after the tourer) and her on her mountain bike with flat pedals but riding with Sarah is always worth it. I took her through my Saturday morning route to the Vags meeting point. There are some awful little stretches of road and I was not disappointed by her attitude. She is putting the work in, not a whinge or stop in sight. It was harder for me to slow down and stay with her than usual, the Focus felt like a flying machine under me and I found it unusually hard to reel it in, especially after all that soul-searching on the point of working hard. So we chatted and a plan was hatched, Sarah wanted to work hard, I wanted to work hard. The compromise, I was going to throw myself at every up (up is code for hill, I used to hate them so much no-one was allowed to say hill at me, lol), hard. Wait for her at the top. If you know me you know that’s  a plan both unusual and ambitious. That’s how serious I am ok? At Stannington we stopped for photos and then took the scenic route towards Saltwick and on towards Ponteland, Sarah pedaling hard down the hills and me throwing the breaks on instead of freewheeling as I usually would. We got a warm welcome and 2 confused double espresso at Anna’s in Ponteland.

Just before setting off back for home Sarah asked me, where do you go if you take that turn off for Kirkley Hall? well, you go up quite a bit and down a bit and up a bit. So instead of going straight back the way we came where we went was to Ogle and Whalton, me killing myself to get up as fast as I could ( really) and occasionally doubling back to do it again with Sarah and Sarah working so very hard on that very heavy chunky beast of hers. At Whalton we turned towards Morpeth and that’s where things became soo much fun. Sarah started pelting it like there was free drink up ahead so I picked it up and passed her, slowed down to wait for her and she did it again. I was gobsmacked! Laughing my soul out, Sarah was attacking!!!! That’s the kind of  kamikaze mate I just love to have around. three or four times I blipped past her, slowed to wait and got this, culminating in my riding just in front of her laughing with joy and screaming at her to pedal harder, faster, to beat me. That was the highlight of my day. This girl who thinks she isn’t ready to join the easy ride is giving it six nought on a mountain bike after just 8 weeks against (admittedly not that fast, but still) me on my teeny tiny flying machine. I’m still grinning. She deserves a giant Hell Yeah for that.

We rode through Tranwell and into Mitford. I really put my heart and soul into those ups, everything I had I put into it culminating in my standing at the top of Dogger Bank in Morpeth making unholy cant gee-guh-gee-guh breathing noises waiting for Sarah. I don’t think I really understood I was capable of going up so fast but today I kept proving it to myself. Next one was the Whorral Bank, my up of hell… I hammered it to the top, or tried anyway, that was the hardest up of the day. At the top while waiting for Sarah I sent a quick text to the Magic James to tell him exactly how much I disliked this hard work idea he had impressed upon me. Then I waited, where was she? Nothing for it but to go down there and find out. I spotted her when I got halfway down the hill so turned around and did it again. Gah, why did I do that! After that it was just a short ride along the cycle path home. My friend was starting to flag which is completely unsurprising given that she’d made a fair few more miles than her previous best of 30 and at an increased average. I felt as though I’d worked harder than I usually would for 38 miles with a lower than usual average. After lovingly washing the Flying Machine down I collapsed in a giant hot bath and could have happily stay there.

That’s a lovely way to spend a sunny day and was the best introduction to a real road bike I could ever have wished for. I think I’m better at this than I thought, I hope I’m right. To Sarah I really do have to say in all honesty. If you really do want to ride with a club then you are more than ready. Do It. Do it because you will get to where you want to be quicker, smarter and you will be doing what you love ( I know you love it, it shows!) with other people who love it too. It’s only a couple of hours out of your life, come along, give it a try, what do you have to lose? ( I really want to see you attack again too! :D)