Now that the ‘man-flu’ has finally abated, I can get back out on the bike again. I have a rule where I completely stop training once a cold gets into my chest and I don’t start again until it has completely cleared. I’ve heard first-hand accounts of people giving themselves long-term heart problems as a result of training hard when under the weather, and whilst there’s always the possibility that I wouldn’t be training that hard anyway and/or they had a more serious infection at the time than a chesty cold, to me it’s just not worth the risk. Given I’m only a hack and not cycling seriously, there’s no point stressing my body with solid training sessions when it’s already stressed trying to fight off an infection.

Here’s the result of my time off…

A week of shite weather and hectic work, followed by two weeks of a cold, leads to a 40% drop in fitness. Total distance for the month of June ended up as 158km, when even a relatively easy month would see me doing 700km+ and a decent week’s training would be pushing 300km.

I got back out on the bike a little at the end of last week to see how things were. My legs feel OK, but the lungs were a little sluggish on Thursday, but OK by Friday. It’s going to be a relatively slow build back to some semblance of fitness I think, especially with the late nights of the Tour de France just around the corner!

It’s been a relatively quiet/lazy/relaxed (delete as appropriate) year on the cycling front so far this year. Here’s the graph of monthly kilometres ridden compared to 2013, and it’s not hard to see that I’m well behind. About 1200km behind at this stage!

The year always starts with good intentions and then various factors get in the way. On a positive note, I’ve managed to survive watching the Giro d’Italia without stacking on any extra weight this year. Laying off the late night snacks is not an easy feat when you’re up until 1.30am watching live cycling for three weeks.

Anyway, lots of catching up to do over the next few months. Once I get rid of this bloody chest cold I’ll be ready to get back into it.

This morning was my first attempt at riding B-Grade at the Club’s monthly race. At a few kilos heavier and a few watts less powerful than when I won my C-Grade races last season, it was always going to be hard work.

With B-Grade not starting until 8:30, I definitely enjoyed the extra hour in bed over riding C-Grade, but this enthusiasm soon dissipated when I headed off to LaPa on my warm-up ride — it was quickly apparent that my legs were not in the mood for racing today.

I arrived at Heffron a bit early, figuring I’d catch the end of the C-Grade race, only to find that the dodgy weather had confined almost everyone to their beds. I saw Stu ride past so shouted some encouragement, though it turned out that he was chaperoning the B-Grade Women’s race as no-one was there to race C-Grade Men’s.

It looked like being a sparse field for the A & B races too, though more people started arriving as the start time approached. We ended up with about 12 in B as the gun went and we rolled out at a fairly sedate pace. The course was damp in patches and no-one really wanted to crack the whip, so the first lap was really slow before one of the Turramurra guys decided to pick things up a bit on the second lap. From then on things were a bit quicker, but rather than being a consistent pace it was on/off. I spent the first few laps up near the front, then did about three quarters of a lap on the front before dropping to the back for some drafting and to see how things panned out.

The pace was fairly manageable, though the surges were a bit tiring and started my legs whinging. As we came on to the main straight to the bell for the prime lap, things hotted up a lot and I ended up with a gap to close into the headwind. That proved to be my undoing, my legs went bang as we entered the squircle and that was the end of my race.

Nick took off on a breakaway with about two laps to go and just managed to hang on. Ben won the sprint for second and one of the Turramurra guys was third.

My Race Stats: 25min,37.6km/h average, 283W Normalised Power

I was pretty tired after the last 10 days of climbing, and Alpe d’Huez had been bloody hard work on Wednesday, so I was worried that maybe I’d overdone things in the run up to the big day. I did nothing on Thursday and then on Friday I went for a 40min cruise along the valley floor followed by a dip in the local swimming pool featuring some spectacular views from the water. Friday evening was spent giving the bike the once over, fitting my transponder and race number and making sure I had all my gels/powders packed and ready to go for the morning.

The alarm went at 5.30 and it was followed by a quick shower, down to breakfast and an attempt to force-feed myself in preparation for a big day. Pre-race nerves (in a good way) usually mean that I have bugger all appetite in the morning, but I knew it was important that I load up for the day ahead as I’d never be able to eat enough along the route to keep up with energy demands. Once that chore was complete I threw the bike in the back of the car and drove down to the main road. There was no way I would be able to ride the 10km climb back to the guest house at the end of the day!!

With 7,000 participants or so, start times are staggered with the first group off at 7, the second at 7.30 and the final group at 8. Out of the guys in the house, Dan & Simon were in the first group, Giles the second and myself and the Irish lads were in the final group. Hugh and Joe were aiming to crack eight hours which was way too fast for me, but Conor and Cormac had been climbing at my pace up Col du Glandon so we’d probably end up together. We joined the back of the 8am start queue and slowly shuffled forwards, crossing the start line at 8:11 with 174km ahead of us.

I’d worked out split goals based on the recon rides I’d done and had taped them to my bike’s stem. The descent off the Glandon was time neutralised as it’s considered too dangerous with so many riders still bunched together early in the event. Bearing this in mind, I’d structured things to aim for a finish time of 11hrs, which, when the descent was subtracted, should mean I’d attain the silver medal goal time of 10h20 for my age group. That was all ahead of me as I left Bourg, hitching on to a line of Dutch guys flying towards Allemond. I may have been taking it easy, but I figured I might as well take a tow if one was being offered. After the quick zig-zag up the Barrage there were a couple of flat kilometres and then we were into the first climb of the day, Col du Glandon (profile). I could see Conor and Cormac a bit below me as they hadn’t jumped a Dutch train, but I figured they’d catch me on the climb so I kept going at a nice comfortable pace, keeping the legs spinning over and using the power meter to pace myself. Having ridden the climb a days ago was a big help, as I knew where the tough bits were and could adjust accordingly. Also, it wasn’t raining like it had been on Monday which was a big help, as was the fact that there were so many other cyclists around. As a result I made it to the top with 2h20 on the clock, almost 25 minutes ahead of schedule and I’d been riding easier than on Monday.

Wary of going out too hard, I opted to take my time at the food station on top. The French know how to do race food and there were baguettes, salami, brie, fruit (fresh & dried) and jellies on offer. I spent 10 minutes eating a bit of everything and refilling water bottles before hitting the descent. Although it was neutralised I pushed it a little bit, simply because it was fun and there weren’t many people around me so it wasn’t crowded and I could choose my line. It was still a bit sobering to come across an ambulance blocking the road where an unknown rider had obviously come a cropper, and we had to carry our bikes through a field to get by. Once the descent was over I faced a 20km run to the base of the next climb at St. Michel de Maurienne. It’s a false flat, very slightly uphill, so the recommendation had been to get into a group and get a tow rather than slogging it out on your own. A few hard efforts saw a few of us latch on to a peloton in front and I just tagged along for the ride from then on. I’d been on the road for more than three hours at this stage and was feeling good, though the combined might of the Telegraphe & Galibier was on the horizon so it was a case of drinking regularly and saving the legs as much as possible.

As we arrived in St. Michel de Maurienne I stopped for a water bottle refill and checked my times. Bang on four hours meant I was still 30 minutes ahead of schedule, despite dawdling at the top of Glandon so I was pretty happy starting the Col du Télégraphe (profile). Again, the recon rides were invaluable as I knew this was a fairly easy climb with a predicable gradient so I settled down to a comfortable rhythm, kept sipping away at my drinks and kept on keeping on. I still prefer to ride a while, stop for a quick stretch and repeat, rather than riding non-stop, so I was slowly passing the same people over and over again. Nevertheless I was still feeling good and climbed the Télégraphe in 1:08, the same time I’d taken on my recon ride. It had taken me 3h50m to climb the combined Télégraphe/Galibier on Tuesday, including a 20m stop at the top of the Télégraphe and a 30m coffee stop at Plan Lachat, so I’d allowed myself 3h30m for the combined climb during the Marmotte, resolving that I wouldn’t be having any lazy stops en route.

After a coke and a stretch I headed off on the short downhill to Valloire, followed by the short climb to the second refuelling stop of the day. I was still facing 15km to the top of the Galibier (profile), so this was another leisurely stop, making sure I ate enough, though time got away from me a bit and I ended up arsing around for ten minutes, slightly longer than planned. The next target was the coffee shop at Plan Lachat which was reached after 40mins of solid climbing, at which point I sat on my arse for another 9 minutes, psyching myself up for the tough final 8km to the top. I was starting to get a little tired by this stage. Nothing serious, but I was looking forward to the summit as I knew there was more than an hour of descending after that before tackling the Alpe. I was also a bit apprehensive about the super steep section from the tunnel to the summit - it was tough enough on the recon ride without starting it with 100km+ and nearly 4000m already in my legs! There was amply opportunity for it to play on my mind as I approached it at a glacial pace, but, once there it wasn’t as bad as expected. In fact, it seemed easier than on the recon ride, probably because I’d been building it up too much over the previous half an hour. The summit loomed and I was greeted by an unexpected food stop. My bike computer read 7h30, so I was still half an hour ahead of schedule, giving me ample time if it all went to shit on the Alpe.

More food, this time with second helpings as I had over an hour to digest on the descent back to Bourg. The first part of the descent is steep and a bit narrow until you get to Col du Lauteret, after which it’s main road all the way back to Bourg. The roads weren’t’ closed to traffic, but all the cars were well aware that bikes (lots of them) were around and we pretty much were given priority. Frence drivers are generally awesome around bikes and don’t mind waiting behind you until it’s safe to pass, but with me hitting speeds up to 70km/h I didn’t have to worry about holding cars up. I did have to hold myself back a bit though, as I found myself powering out of turns and figured I’d be better off saving my legs for the final climb up Alpe d’Huez (profile).

I reached the final food stop at the base of the Alpe in 8:51, almost 40 minutes ahead of schedule and was still feeling reasonably good. I had a quick stop for a handful of jellies, refilled my water bottles and got going. No time to dawdle with the Alpe ahead of me as I knew that there was no respite from here to the finish line. The first two kilometres are over 10%, then it settles down to average around 8% for the rest of the climb, so if things went bad and the day caught up with me, I could lose serious time struggling to the finish. From doing the recon ride I knew where the water stops were and knew roughly the sections where the gradient would ease for a few hundred metres, so I had a few targets in mind. First of those was to get the 10%+ section out of the way at the start. I’d climbed it at just under 290W on Wednesday, which was a bit too hard so I deliberately stayed well under that. I’d built some leeway into my schedule precisely so I’d have time up my sleeve for the Alpe, so it made sense to use some of it and the steeps felt a lot easier.

There are 21 hairpins on the way to the top, numbered in descending order, each signposted with the names of previous winners of Tour de France ascents of the Alpe and the water fountain outside the church at turn 16 signified that goal No.1 was complete; the 10% gradients were over and done with and I could now just settle into my normal climbing rhythm and hope it would get me to the finish. I was still stopping every 2km or so for a quick stretch, and mainly passing people rather than being passed which is always a good feeling. By the time I made it to the second church at bend 7 (Goal No.2) I was starting to feel the days exertions. I wasn’t so much tired as just over cycling. My arse was sore from so long in the saddle, my shoulders were stiff & tight and my knee and hamstrings were starting to stiffen up as well. Apart from all that, my legs still felt OK whilst actually cycling, so there was no fear of stopping, but my quick stretch stops were no longer having an effect and I was just willing the finish nearer so I could get off the bloody bike! Still, it was just mind games and minor niggles rather than exhaustion, so I kept plodding away until I finally crested the hump into the village where all the earlier finishers were sitting around, enjoying a beer and offering encouragement to those of us yet to do so. The village marks the end of the serious climbing, though there’s still a kilometre or so until the Marmotte finish, which feels flat, even though it’s between at 3 and 5%! Time to shift into bigger gears, get the speed up again, zip up the jersey and I crossed the finish line in 10:21:31, riding no-hands with a big smile on my face for the finish line photo, only later to discover that the bloody camera was quite a bit after the finish and it captured a more accurate portrayal of how I was feeling at the time :-)

That was it! I’d made it and was filled with a mixture of satisfaction at the accomplishment and relief that I could finally get off the bloody bike! After dropping back my timing chip I got a printed certificate with my official, adjusted time of 9:36:59, which was well inside the silver goal time for my age group, so I got to swap the €10 timing chip deposit for a nice silver medal. I also bought myself a souvenir bike jersey now that I’d finished, as I’m always reluctant to do so before completing an event, as there’s no point having a jersey or t-shirt for a event you didn’t complete. So, as the French say… FIN.

Stats:
10:21:31 total ride time
174.26km distance
4845m climbed
6062 calories burnt
69.9km/h top speed

My second ride in France saw me tackle the combined might of the Col du Télégraphe and the Col du Galibier. As the base of the Télégraphe is 90km from where I was staying, riding there was out of the question so myself and Jason drove to the top of Galibier, parked the car and got organised. Jason’s an Aussie guy staying in the same place as me, whose bike I recognised from seeing it outside Sutherland service station six months ago while I was on a Waterfall ride. It helps when your bike is a custom steel creation, handmade by Dario Pegoretti, one of the most famous bike builders around, with a one-off paint job. It stands out from the crowd, so I recognised it immediately when I saw it again hanging in the bike shed at our accommodation. Small world!

The ride started with a 35km descent to St. Michel de Maurienne which was great fun. Unfortunately they’d recently gravelled the bottom half of the Télégraphe so caution prevailed and the fun was over. After a plate of chips in a local restaurant it was time to turn around and ride the 35km uphill back to the car. From doing my research I knew that the Télégraphe was pretty civilised, at a fairly constant 7% gradient for 12km, then some downhill into Valloire before the Galibier itself started.

The kilometres ticked away, chatting to Jason about our various cycling experiences. He’s lighter and fitter than I am, but was also a bit wary of the climb so was happy enough to ride at my pace. The road is tree-lined the whole way up, so there’s no wide-ranging mountain vistas to take your mind off the climb and it’s just a question of putting the head down and slogging away at it. The gravel section was a pain in the arse as I could hear bits being picked up by my wheel and scraping through the small gap between tyre and the top of the forks. Maybe I would have been better off with the standard 23mm tyres instead of the 25mm ones I had? Unlike yesterday, the sun was out and it was nice and hot. No more rain to deal with. Also unlike yesterday, the Télégraphe has kilometre markers indicating both the average gradient and the distance remaining to the top where the Glandon doesn’t. This made it easy to gauge your effort and we were soon at the top, part one of the climb conquered.

I bumped into a guy, KKB, I knew from a triathlon forum I hang out on back in Oz who was over to do the Tour of Mont Blanc, a one-day, 330km ride with 8000m of climbing! He’d also been over two years previously to do Marmotte, though we hadn’t met then and he’d finished the event where I DNSed. Clearly Mont Blanc was the next step. Food for thought! He headed off up Galibier with his riding mates while we opted to grab a refreshing Coke and cool down a bit.

The ride resumed with a 5km descent into Valloire before the 18km of the Galibier started. Everyone says the Galibier is a beast of a climb, so I was a bit apprehensive starting out if I’m honest, and it seemed to ramp up straight out of town as a warning. Thankfully it didn’t last and relented to three or four percent for a few kilometres before returning to 7%. That was the easy bit out of the way and it was solid climbing along the valley from there on. The Tour de France had passed this way last year, so we passed plenty of graffiti painted on the road, encouraging various riders including this one for last year’s champion.

Shortly afterwards we reached Plan Lachat, 8km from the top. We’d been keeping an eye on the kilometre markers, which, along with the remaining distance, also indicate the current altitude. We know that Galibier tops out at 2645m, so some quick calculations showed that the remaining 8km was going to average close to 10%. By now it was getting bloody hot again, so we decided to stop for a quick rest and a refuel. We bumped into KKB and his mates again and ended up sitting there for half an hour chatting to various other cyclists, enjoying the sun and watching riders slowly zig-zag up the steep section ahead of us.

There was no point putting off the inevitable, so, while Jason went for a toilet break I took off since he’d quite happily outclimb me anyway. As it turned out, the gradient wasn’t that bad being only eight or nine percent, so I was able to plod along at a reasonably comfortable effort, stopping for the odd photo along the way.

One of the enjoyable aspects of proper climbing is the opportunity to look over the side and clearly see how much altitude you’ve gained in a relatively short space of time. The first few kilometres after Plan Lachat gave ample opportunity for this as they snaked their way up the side of the mountain. I could see Jason behind me, but didn’t appear to be gaining as quickly as I had thought he would. I passed a small shop advertising the local cheese and I wondered if they did much business at all. I couldn’t imaging anyone in my situation, slogging it up one of the Tour’s toughest climbs, stopping to buy cheese! The ride changed here, with the road now skirting along the side of a wide plain, though the gradient didn’t slack off at all. I knew the last two kilometres were the steepest and things were only going to get harder as the altitude continued to increase, so rounding a corner and finally being able to see the top wasn’t the joyous experience you’d expect.

Jason sailed past me at this stage with some Dutch rider in tow and there was no way I was going to ride at their pace so I left them to it. Not long afterwards I reached the tunnel, built so that car traffic doesn’t have to go over the top. For bikes, we skip the tunnel and turn left to be greeted by 12% gradients and some hard work to really earn the summit. By this stage it’s over 2500m and you can feel the altitude and, just to drive the point home, I ended up riding the last few hundred metres to the top through a cloud!

So, that’s three of the four Marmotte climbs out of the way. Only Alpe d’Huez left!

All Photos

When I went to France two years ago for my first attempt at Marmotte, I’d buggered up my knee about six weeks before I left Australia. The first week of climbing went OK, but then I had three weeks off holidaying with Jacqui and attending Sean & Lisa’s wedding, then, when I resumed climbing, my knee gave out on the first, steep pitches of Col du Glandon. It was here, 15 minutes into the climb two years ago, that I finally decided to withdraw from Marmotte. Today was a big day as it would banish any lingering demons and disappointment from that day.

I’m staying up in Ornon with King of the Mountains (who I highly recommend) and have met a bunch of Irish guys from Kildare who are also here to do Marmotte. After farting around this morning waiting for everyone to build their bikes and replace the various bits and pieces they’d left at home, we all rolled out of Bourg just after lunch in the pouring rain. Big Joe and Hugh are the fit ones, so, once we’d passed Allemont and got onto the climb proper, they took off. Myself, Cormac and Conor were a similar pace, so we stuck together. They’d gain a few metres on me through the steep bits and I’d reel them back in once the gradient eased again.

The rain continued for a while before easing off. Cloud cover remained and temperatures stayed low which suited me just fine. After all the climbing in Italy, my legs were feeling good and the steep pitches which had stopped me in my tracks two years ago presented no problems this time. I spent most of this first part trying to figure out if I’d passed the point where I turned in 2010 but nothing obvious stood out and we soon reached Le Rivier d’Allemont which ended that train of thought. The ride profile indicated a short downhill after the village before climbing resumed but hadn’t mentioned the downhill gradient was 12%! Losing height mid-climb is always a pain in the arse and a steep gradient means a lot lost in a short space of time. All that effort wasted!

The first section of the climb out the other side was also steep at 11% for the first kilometre or so, before settling down to more manageable gradients. Towards the beginning of the climb we’d been passed by two trucks carrying full loads of live sheep, and, after climbing past a few more switchbacks, we were now greeted by those same sheep milling around the road, having presumably been dropped off in their summer paddocks. After a bit of messing around trying to manoeuvre through a herd which wasn’t sure which side of the road it wanted to be on, it was onward and upward towards the Lac de Grand Maison with the large dam wall initially greeting you before slowly revealing the lake itself.

At this point the view opens up (well it would have if it wasn’t so overcast and the clouds weren’t so low) and the road starts following the side of the valley at a consistent gradient instead of turning back on itself. There was another downhill section, though not as bad as the first, before the last pitch upwards to the Cols. Col du Glandon was the first to arrive, a short 200m detour to the left off the ‘main’ road. Cold and bleak, we didn’t linger long before getting back on the main climb for the few extra kilometres up to Col de la Croix de Fer. After the trophy photo we huddled into the café for a warm coffee before rugging up as best as possible for the cold, wet descent.

As we left the café the clouds closed in again, reducing visibility to less than 20 metres - not really what you want when trying to descend off an unfamiliar mountain on wet roads. We were soaked through as well, a combination of rain and sweat, so the first few kilometres were bloody freezing until we’d descended out of the clouds and the temperatures rose just a little. After that the descent was more fun, though what was a 12% downhill on the way up the mountain was now a 12% uphill into Le Rivier d’Allemont. I could have done without that to be honest. The last section was a blast, though we were stuck behind a van and couldn’t really make the most of it. By the time we’d made it back to the valley floor the temperature was up significantly and we rolled back into Bourg feeling a lot happier, if not actually any drier.

All in all a nice ride, but a bit of a warning as well. Col du Glandon is a tougher ride than it appears on paper and, as the first climb of the Marmotte, will have to be accorded its due respect.

Day Two in Italy saw me riding Passo di Gavia, another famous climb from the Giro d’Italia, most notably Andy Hampsten’s ride in 1988 when he rode through a snowstorm to win the stage. Unlike ‘88, for me it was a beautiful, sunny day and, more importantly, the first few kilometers were an easy grade, giving ample time to ease into the climb.

Or so it seemed on paper! Prior to riding a climb I’d jump on Map My Ride, map the route and look at the elevation profile to give me an approximate of what to expect. However, on the longer climbs such as the Gavia (25km), the profile resolution isn’t great so there’s often some surprises. This was one of those times and I was struggling a little after a few kilometers on a pitch that was steeper than expected. Nothing serious, but 8% instead of 5% is enough to make you feel sluggish at the start of the day. The legs soon remembered what was expected of them and then the gradient eased up into Santa Caterina di Valfurva.

On the way out of town the ‘proper’ climb started with a few switchbacks and the road settled into a fairly typical 7-8% gradient. Whilst taking a photo I was passed, slowly, by a council truck who needed to do a three point turn to get around each hairpin bend, and I could hear his reversing beep for quite some time as he navigated the bends ahead of me, just out of reach. The Gavia is nowhere near as popular as the Stelvio, either with cyclists or motorcyclists and it was a quiet ride to the top passing only a few MTBers and a couple of runners on the way.

The top section is a relatively flat plain which just goes on and on before you reach the proper summit at 2652m in altitude. The ride plan foe the day called for doing both sides of the climb, so, after a leisurely refuel outside the café at the top I donned the windjacket for a fast and furious descent to the valley below.

Sixteen kilometres later it was time to turn around and head back up. This was always going to be a tough day and it wasn’t long before I was really struggling, facing a gradient of 16%. French road builders tend to plan things so that the gradient rarely goes over 12% but the Italians show no such restraint, with climbs like the mighty Zoncolan having sections over 20%. At 85kg I’m no climber and, even with my 32-tooth cog on the rear, once the gradient gets above 12% I’m quickly into the red zone. I’d noticed two signs on the way down, first for a 14% section and then the 16% one, so I knew what to expect in reverse. That didn’t make it any easier, though the spectacular scenery takes your mind off it, as do the narrow roads with barely room for a car and a bike side-by-side.

I have a power meter on my bike which tells me how much power I’m putting into the pedals. My average effort on medium grades is around 250W, and with a cyclist only being 23% efficient or so, this means that my body is actually generating over 1000W in order to put 250W into the pedals. The surplus is converted to heat which I then have to lose to prevent overheating, a task made more difficult as the mercury rises. With the temperatures now over 30C and the roads now above the tree line, I was keeping an eye out for suitable places to get a bit of shade for a quick opportunity to cool down.

I’d been on the road for over 4 hours by this stage and the combination of fatigue and heat was starting to get on my nerves. My legs were feeling tired but still able to plod along, tapping away at the pedals and I wasn’t particularly exhausted. However, my head was just not in the game anymore and I was desperate to get the climb over and done with. There’s a tunnel with about 3km or so to go to the top and I’d been hoping to see it around every bend for what seemed like ages, as it promised some cool respite from the beating sun, yet, every time I turned a corner it wasn’t there, until, finally, there it was. I took a five minute breather, downed a gel, switched on my rear flashing light and then rode the few hundred metres savouring the darkness and the cool temperatures, until, emerging at the other end I was greeted by the sight of the final few switchbacks to the top.

Still, although the end was in sight, it wasn’t easy, with the gradient now ramping up to 10% and at one stage I looked down and I was pushing out 350W and only going 7.5km/h! The metres pass slowly at that sort of speed and the fact that the altitude was creeping over 2500m didn’t make things any easier either. Thankfully, after another photo stop (really an excuse for a break) or two, the gradient finally eased and I could see the small lake just below the summit. Another two small bends and I was on the final approach which, although it was still 4% or so, seemed flat after 16km of climbing.

Check out that face! So knackered I can’t even be bothered smiling now that all the climbing is over and I have a 26km descent to enjoy! After some more food and some relaxing time in the sun, the windjacket went on and all was right with the world as the descent began. I managed to pass two cars, a truck and even two motorbikes, though in fairness the guy was riding slow waiting for his better half. Still, it’s fun to see a bit of clear road and out-brake a moto into a bend :-)

The Strava stats show 84.7km with an altitude gain of 2,700m and 3,700 calories burned. Only managed 66.4km/k on the descent though.

All photos

So, time for a bit of a trip report. Today was my first day of climbing in Italy and my first proper mountain climb in tow years. And what a climb - the Stelvio Pass! Finish of the Queen stage of this year’s Giro d’Italia, one of the most iconic of bike climbs, plus one of Top Gear’s Greatest Driving Roads and 21.5km, 1560m vertical gain at an average of 7.3%, with 39 switchbacks. That’s some way to wake up the legs!

There was no easy way to ride this. The road starts rising right from the front of my hotel so there’s little opportunity to easy into it. After little over a kilometre through the village of Bormio I’m on to the climb proper, down to the granny ring and into a two hour climb. With La Marmotte in less than two weeks this will hopefully give me an indication on whether the interrupted training over the last few months is enough.

Things feel pretty tough at the start which starts the doubts forming, but I choose to ignore them as it will take a while for my legs to adjust from flatland. After a few kilometres I round a corner and see the road snaking off into the distance along the side of the mountain and just keep plugging away, remembering to switch on my rear blinker before entering the handful of tunnels along the way.

Once out of the last tunnel I can see the first batch of switchbacks. I’m really struggling now and starting to worry that my training has been useless when I see “14%” painted on the road and I relax. 14% is always going to hurt a lot! I stop to catch my breath after that section and to snap some photos before resuming my climb.

Looking down on a set of switchbacks is one of the iconic cycling mountain views and certainly a lot more enjoyable than looking up at them, coupled with the satisfaction of having already ridden them and the knowledge that later you’ll get to descend through them as well. The gradient eases up now as the road meanders through a high-altitude wide valley before pitching up again for the final batch of hairpins en route to the summit. There’s clearly a classic car rally on and lots of nice old cars drive past, including a nice Ferrari and some open-topped 1930s marques I don’t recognise. There’s also regular groups of motorcyclists enjoying the ride as well.

I really start noticing the altitude above 2400m and there’s still 360m of vertical gain to go, but the last pitch isn’t too bad, the goal is in sight and it’s just a matter of plugging away, getting ever closer until finally that’s it and you’re greeted by tacky souvenir stands and a profusion of bratwurst vendors. 2759m high!!

My original plan was to descend the 24km to Prato on the other side, turn around and ride back up, but I figure that this is too much for my first day in the mountain. However, the Prato side provides probably the iconic Stelvio photo so I decide to descend the first 7km before turning to I can at least say I’ve ridden the famous switchbacks.

The road surface at the top isn’t great, so I’m a bit cautious braking into the first few bends, but I’m able to open up a bit more as the road improves and I reacquaint myself with big mountain descending. It’s over all to quickly though and it’s time to turn around and ride back up. I find riding up switchbacks quite enjoyable as, although it’s usually hard work, I can focus on just getting to the next bend which isn’t usually that far away. Stopping for photos is also a good excuse for a quick breather! A bit under an hour later I’m back up at the top and it’s all downhill from there back to the hotel.

After donning my windjacket to protect against the cold, it’s time to enjoy the payoff from all the hard work lugging my arse up the mountain. Since there’s not much traffic coming up the mountain it’s possible to use most of the road and, as I get more comfortable, I brake later and later and optimise my corner exit to keep my speed up. The wide valley which provided welcome easy gradients on the way up is now a hinderance on the way down and I have to pedal to keep my speed over 45km/h which is a bit annoying.

Hot air rising from the valley below means a welcome tailwind on ascents but an unwelcome headwind on descents and as if that wasn’t enough I manage to drop my chain. Looking down to see what’s going on is precarious at speed with lots of bends, so I pull over, sort out the chain and take the opportunity to remove my wind jacket now that I’ve lost some altitude and the temperature has risen. After that it’s back to fast descending with the final part of the descent particularly enjoyable with some nice linked turns through the trees. In no time I’m back in Bormio and the first day in the mountains is done and dusted.

After uploading to Strava I see that while I was ranked 158th on the way up I was ranked 14th on the way down, despite my chain related stop. Without that I’d have been 7th! Damn, so close! Top speed 72.2km/h.

All photos

This is going to be my first ride when I get to Italy. The Passo della Stelvio, as seen on Stage 20 of the Giro d’Italia. Look stunning!

Check out the more Stelvio photos at Jered Gruber’s Flickr page.

The final countdown to Europe has started as I fly out in three weeks’ time. Training has been going reasonably well as can be seen on the chart above of my training since the start of the year. After the hiccup in mid-February when my knee started acting up and I had to take time off to get it sorted, things have been fairly consistent. Progress has stalled the last two weeks as the bike went in for a service, rain scuppered my long ride last weekend and I’ve also been getting a few knee niggles as the workload increases. This time it’s not serious, but I need to be careful and manage it properly lest I tip it over the edge. Lots of stretching!

I’ve a new pair of bike shoes on the way with much better arch support which I’m hoping will help alleviate the knee issue, and I’ve fitted a 32-tooth sprocket at the rear to give me more options when the roads get steep. I had a 28-tooth cog in 2010 which meant that my cadence got quite low (and hence the effort going through my knee increased a lot) once the gradient got up near 10%. At the slow speed I climb at, the 32 will mean my cadence can increase from 60rpm to 70rpm which feels a lot easier on the knee.

I also have a new set of custom-built wheels on the way; they’re lighter, stiffer and they roll much better than the heavy training wheels I got with the bike 4 years ago. I’d planned to buy a set of DuraAce C24s (1390g, $800), but spoke to a local, well-respected wheel builder, whose name I’d seen mentioned quite a lot, and opted for a set of his wheels, which, at 1520g, are a little heavier and therefore marginally less suited to mountain climbing, will be much more suitable to the racing I want to do when I get back. He also backs his wheels with a full warranty, including crash replacement so it was an easy decision in the end. They should be here early next week, so I’m looking forward to trying them out.

After a slow and interrupted start to the year, the last few weeks have been pretty good and my training has been progressing well. I’ve been aiming for three weeks on, 1 week off - so three weeks of increasing amounts of work, then an easier, recovery week - and it’s been working well so far. I’ve another ‘on’ week this week before my second ‘off’ week since getting my knee sorted out.

I’ll be spending most of my time in France and Italy climbing which is pretty tough to prepare for here given that there are no decent mountains within range of Sydney. The closest are the Blue Mountains, but they’re still a two hour drive from my place and the climbs are still nowhere near as long as those in the Alps. I’ve had a think about it and figured that the best thing to do is to ride long efforts at a certain power but at low cadence. My current FTP, or best average power for one hour, is around 290W, so a good rule of thumb is to climb at around 80% of that, or around 230W. Given my weight and available gearing, I’m likely to be climbing at a cadence between 70 and 75rpm, so I’ve been doing longer rides at the weekend aiming for sections at 230W+ at a cadence around 70rpm. In a 4.5hr ride on Friday I did a solid 2hr continuous section in the middle at an average of 234W and average cadence of 73rpm and felt OK afterwards. I’ll build on that as the weeks progress.

I’ve started back on interval work as well the last two weeks and my knee is holding up well to that which is a big bonus. At the moment I’m only doing 5 x 5min intervals at 280-290W but I’ll increase the duration gradually to give my knee a chance to adjust slowly. They’re still bloody tough!

My weight is fluctuating between 85.5 and 97kg which still leaves 7kg to try to shed before getting to France, so I’m going to have to start being really disciplined with food over the next couple of weeks. I’m going to buy new super-light wheels for my bike which will make a difference as the ones I have are solid, heavy training wheels. A new bike would shave off 2kg or so, but I don’t have a spare $5000 at the moment so that will have to wait :-)

Anyway, it’s nice to be able to report some decent news for a change and to string together a few consistent weeks without complications, so long may it continue. The best news is that I’m already as fit and as light as I was the last time I went to France, but I still have eight weeks to get fitter and lighter.

Not much positive news to report recently. Training hasn’t being going well, with my knee issues recurring out of the blue at the end of January, after only a couple of weeks training. My right kneecap was scraping on cartilage during the ride, which was painful in and of itself and resulted in swelling and some mild pain for a few hours after a long ride. Not good, and most annoyingly, the last time I went to Marmotte, it was the left knee which was acting up.

I booked an appointment with Blair Martin to get an updated bike fit and a physio’s perspective on what was causing the problem, only to find out that I’m not using my arse properly! Cue fart jokes and the like…

It seems that I’m not using my gluteus medius, which is supposed to be used to stabilise my pelvis/upper body while on the bike, leaving my gluteus maximus, quads etc. to actually put power to the pedals. Since I’m not using it, my gluteus maximus, quads, etc. are doing dual duty of supporting my body and putting power to the pedals and, as my body adjusts to this awkwardness, the point of ‘failure’ is my knee. Ergo, I need to do some arse exercises!

After a few minor adjustments to my position on the bike I felt much more balanced on it and left with a few pre-ride exercises to do to activate my gluteus medius (the idea being that it gets used at the start of the ride, and with each successive ride it remains in use a bit longer) and a few post-ride stretches to do as well.

So, after that enforced break from training I was keen to get back into it, but was warned to take it easy; no hills, no intervals and no indoor trainer. A week later, one or two minor tweaks to position and I was feeling good and wasn’t noticing any knee issues on the rides anymore. Just when I thought I could move to the next stage and add a little more distance, I come down with a cold/chesty cough. Since the general rule of training while sick is that it’s not OK to train if the cold is in your chest/lungs, I’ve been off the bike since last Friday as well now!

Comparing my training from my last trip to France in 2010, despite being way better prepared in November, I’m now in about the same state as I was in 2010. The only positive to come out of all of this is that I’ve been fairly diligent with food intake since Christmas, so I’m now 86kg instead of the 89kg I was in 2010. I went to France in 2010 weighing 86kg, so at least I have three months to drop a few more kilos. After all, climbing is all about watts per kilo, and at least I’ve been able to improve the kilo side of the equation, even if I’ve been unable to work on the watts.

Anyway, my cold has almost cleared up, so I hope to be back on the bike tomorrow for an day ride at least.

As well as getting out on the bike, I’ve decided to get back in the pool, albeit purely as some recovery sessions from my bike rides. I’m also aware that all the exercise I’m doing is leg-based, so my upper body isn’t doing anything and going for a swim is infinitely preferable than hitting the gym to lift some weights. I’m not training for any swimming events or following a structured plan, just aiming to get in and swim a few easy laps on a regular basis.

That being said, I want to get to the stage where I can complete 40 x 100 FS off 1:45, averaging 1:30. That’s a reasonable “all year ‘round” level of swim fitness as far as I’m concerned, though a long way short of what I used to be capable of! Still, that’s the initial target and I’ll re-evaluate once it’s reached.

The plan is to do two swims a week and to just get in and start swimming 100s off 1:45. No warm-up, no drills, no messing around. Just in, swim until my arms are wrecked and see how I go.

I did my first session last week and it was a bit of an eye-opener! I took the first 100 nice and easy, concentrating on getting some feel back for the water and ended up with a 1:22. I was pretty happy with that and figured things might not be so bad after all. However, the second 100 was 1:29 and I was starting to feel it in my biceps/lats and after six I needed to stop for a rest :) My arms were wrecked, as if I had been lifting in the gym and just had no energy/pwer left. After a couple of minutes break I managed another four 100s, then another break followed by a final two 100s for a total of 12. If I’d managed 12 straight through I would have been happy enough, but the two breaks put a dampener on things.

Second session was today. I resolved to take things a bit easier on the first few 100s, so swam a 1:29 for the first one followed by a few around 1:31 or so. I got to six and felt OK, then felt a bit better after 10 and suddenly all was well and I knew I could swim many more. I decided to call it a day after 20 having averaged 1:32, though I still felt reasonably good. I just didn’t want to totally drain myself and end up skipping my bike ride in the morning.

Still, a rapid improvement and felt a bit more like a swimmer again. Next session is on Thursday which will hopefully be more like today than last week.

With all the running around getting finance and documentation together to buy the apartment, followed by time spent doing work on the place and being available to let tradies in to do their thing, cycling has taken a back seat since November. That was annoying as I’d built up a decent bit of fitness to handle the 180km+ of the Gone Ride Return and had hoped to build on that leading in to Christmas. Alas, it was not to be, so once again I begin a new year in a relatively unfit state as evidenced by the graph below.

The blue line is a measure of bike fitness, being the amount of work done per day averaged over the previous 3 months. It declined from a peak of just over 60 in November, to just above 20 in the New Year. The pink line is the average work done over the previous week, which fluctuates a bit more.

Anyway, it is what it is. I’m off to Europe this summer to ride my bike in the Alps again, so, the rebuild begins!

The big news in the last six months is that myself and Jacqui have bought an apartment. After a few years of half-hearted looking we finally found somewhere that we liked enough to actually bid on.

Jacqui always wanted a bit of outdoor space, so a courtyard or garden was a must. She spotted ana apartment in Maroubra which looked great. Decent sized garden, recently renovated, move in, nothing to spend sort of place. It met all the requirements, so we got our finances in order and headed off to the auction.

The agent had quoted an expected price around $520k, so, Aussie agents being what they are, we knew that would probably be a bare minimum. Although this was our first auction, there were found being held at the venue before ours, so there was plenty of time to get a feel for how things were running. Standard procedure seemed to see lots of frantic bidding, then a pause when it appeared it was finally down to two buyers, but then the serious bidders would come in and the final stage was reached.

When our auction started I figured I’d bide my time and see what happened. Bidding started at $450k and I was hopeful of getting the apartment for a decent price, but it quickly ended up at two couples duking it out at $540k. After the “going twice” announcement, I started bidding and we ended up bowing out at $570k. Damn! I was a bit disappointed, but Jacqui was heartbroken.

Back to the drawing-board, or so we thought. A couple of days later the estate agent called us to say that the owner of the apartment next door, in the same building, wanted to sell. We went to check it out and it was identical in layout and size to the apartment we’d missed at auction. The only downside was that, while there were no structural issues, it was a rental property, so would need a complete paint, a new kitchen and a few other things done to get it up to the standard we wanted.

Luckily our bid of $525k was accepted and, after all the legalese was over with, we picked up the keys on November 23rd. Here’s a few photos of the state it was in when we bought it.

With the help of Jimmy, my builder mate, we quickly worked through the major items needing to be done so we could move in before December 10th.

• rip out carpets and built-ins in both bedrooms
• rip out carpet and lay a wooden floor in my office
• install many extra plug sockets
• sand & white-wash the floorboards throughout
• prune the trees in the garden and get rid of the weeds

Here’s a few photos of the work in progress. We’ve now moved in and had a BBQ/housewarming on NYE which went pretty well. We’ve a new kitchen on the way, plus a few final touches to sort out before the major work is finished. More photos to come!

Suffering across the finish line...

Last Friday week was my second visit out to RAW Track racing at Dunc Gray Velodrome in Bankstown. I opted to race Novice again as it had been a month since my first visit, so I figured I should refresh my learning of the ropes before stepping up to Div. 5.

There were 8 of us novices this time around, making for a different experience from the first time when it was just myself and Kylee. As before, the races were all handicapped to even out the differences in standards.

I had some good results, finishing 4th twice before winning the final race (see photo). I went off 4th rider with another 4 chasing behind me for an 8-lap race. I caught the guys in front of me after 4 laps, but the guys chasing me still had a bit of work to do. I knew that the guy immediately behind me was a similar standard to me, perhaps slightly faster, so, instead of going around the guys I’d caught I opted to sit-in, make the other guy work to catch us and then hope to out-sprint him at the finish.

As Hannibal says in the A-Team, I love it when a plan comes together! The Sydney Uni rider caught us with about a lap and a half to go and chose to sit on for a bit. I bided my time, periodically checking over my shoulder, until, with half a lap to go I went for it, sprinting as hard as I could around Royds in front of me into the final bend and hoping it was enough to get the win. As it turned out, it was! The Sydney Uni guy congratulated me afterwards, confirming that he had been lining me up but that I had accelerated too quickly for him and he couldn’t close the gap. Always good to hear :)

This Friday sees me move up to Div. 5 sporting a new 14-tooth cog at the rear for a bit of extra top speed. Should be fun.

Well, what can I say? The first Australian to ever win the Tour de France. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s worth the wait! Twice second in ‘07 and ‘08, followed by crashes and injuries in ‘09 and ‘10, it sometimes seemed that Cadel would never reach the top step. His World Championship win in ‘09 gave him a confidence boost, and the move to BMC, who built a team for the Tour solely focused on the GC, resulted in a calm & relaxed Cadel who was free to focus on his riding. The results speak for themselves.

This year’s Tour has been the best that I can remember. Right from the start we’ve had a variety of riders animating the race, and, more importantly, it’s been who has been animating the race that’s been significant. Thor Hushovd, Philippe Gilbert & Jeremy Roy are widely regarded as clean riders, as are Cadel and Thomas Voeckler. To see them all up the front, attacking and making it stick, is a big clue that cycling is getting its act together and the efforts to fight doping are working.

I’m sure there are still dopers out there, but they’re definitely doping less. The days of a Mr. 60% like Pantani or Riis are long gone, as are the Armstrong years where a single team controlled the race from start to finish. The introduction of the bio-passport to the peloton in 2008 was the turning point. For the first time, all riders were subject to longitudinal testing, not just the French and, as more data has been gathered, it has been possible to construct individual, year-round profiles for each rider, greatly minimising the opportunities for any doping, and completely removing the possibility of taking large amounts of drugs.

The climb times and power to weight ratios on the decisive climbs back this view up, with times up to 3 minutes slower on crucial climbs than the Armstrong era. This, coupled with the resurgence of French teams, plus the strength of teams with a strong anti-doping stance like Garmin-Cervelo, Sky and HTC, point to a brighter future for the sport. I’m pretty confident that we’ve just witnessed the cleanest Tour in at least 20 years. Long may it continue.

Anyway, after three weeks staying up until 1 or 2am watching the race, it’s time for me to get back on the bike and cycle myself instead of watching others do so!

Last night I headed out to Dunc Gray Velodrome, built for the Sydney Olympics, to try racong on the velodrome for the first time. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous for a number of reasons;

• I’d never ridden a track bike before, and since they have no brakes slowing down could be a problem if there’s a crash or something
• they also have a fixed hub, so you can’t freewheel and if you stop pedalling, well the pedals keep going around taking your legs with them and you get bumped out of the saddle
• the corners at each end of the lap are banked at 45° (see photo!) so I wasn’t sure how to ride them properly, or how fast you need to go so you don’t slide off!

I arrived with about half an hour of the warm-up to go, registered, paid and showed my Cycling Australia race licence, picked up my race number and signed on in the Novice category. I figured I’d just get on the bike and get out there. In all my years on a bike, whether commuting, road riding or MTBing, I’ve only crashed once, and that was while doing jumps on the MTB, so I figured I should be OK.

After a couple of laps around the skirt (the flat bit just on the inside of the track proper) I bit the bullet and went up on to the boards, accelerating hard to carry a bit of speed into the first turn. It was a little nerve-wracking at first as my natural instinct was to turn the bike but that just felt like the bike was going to fall off the slope, so in the end I just relaxed and let the bike do what it wanted and all was well. The secret is not to actively turn the bike but to let speed, the banking and the laws of physics guide you around the turn. After a few laps I was fine, though I still wasn’t comfortable riding close to other riders, a hangover of not having any brakes!

The first race was a 6-lapper (each lap is 250m) and there was only myself and a friend Kylee in the novices. Two more experienced riders went out with us to get us up to speed and get us swapping off turns at the front, then with 500m to go they pull out and it’s mano-a-mano between myself and Kylee. I knew that I could punch out more power than Kylee, but she was fitter than I was, so I just stayed behind her until 100m to go and put the hammer down around the last bend. First race, first win!

The second race was a 4-lap handicap, and this time they gave Kylee a 40m head start. I caught her with about a lap to go and came around her again on the last bend for the win.

The final race was an 8-lap handicap and this time we each had a more experienced rider to pace us for the first four laps and then we were on our own. Kylee was given a 125m head start this time and I had to chase her down. My chaperone was Gary Mandy, who I found out later, rode for Zimbabwe in the 1988 Olympics, so he quickly got me up to speed and while we were catching Kylee slowly but surely, my lack of fitness was making itself felt and my legs were already toast just following Gary! He swung off and while I continued to catch Kylee I just wasn’t fit enough to close the full gap and she won by about 40m.

All in all a bloody good night’s racing! Next time I’ll move up to Division 5 where there are a lot more people, as I’m comfortable enough riding the banking now and need to get used to having other people near me whilst riding at pace. Unfortunately I will no longer have a weight & power advantage, so there won’t be any more wins for a while!

Seeing as how I’m going track racing I figured I might as well find out how unfit I am. I’ve been doing little for the past few months and only started cycling infrequently about a month ago. My riding has basically consisted of a 70km cruise with Marc every second Saturday with little else.

I resolved to cycle a bit more regularly last week, so got a ride in on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, then figured I should do a MAP test to see exactly where my fitness was. I’d done one previously, about 18 months ago, when I first started training for La Marmotte and the procedure is the same; after a thorough warm-up, start cycling at an effort of 100W and increase by 25W/minute until you collapse in a heap. The best average power achieved for a minute is your Maximum Aerobic Power (MAP) and your Functional Threshold Power (FTP) is approximately 75% of your MAP. Your FTP is the power you can sustain for a one-hour, all-out effort and is used as the basis for setting training levels.

Anyway, to the test:

The results…

The above is the graph of the actual test, with the yellow line being power output. I finished up with a MAP of 367W, leading to an FTP of 275W, and a power to weight ratio at FTP of 3.05W. The test 18 months ago resulted in MAP 406W & FTP 305W, so I’m a little over 105 less fit than I was then. There’s work to be done!

Tomorrow I’m making my track debut! As another part of keeping my cycling going over the winter (or restarting it at least), I’ve decided to give track racing a go. There’s a race series called RAW (Race All Winter) which started in June, runs every Friday night through winter, and is held at Dunc Gray Velodrome, built specially for the Sydney Olympics. No slumming it for me. We’re talking world-class facilities!

A few triathlon friends had been talking about it last year, saying how enjoyable it is and I’d been thinking about giving it a go this year. Two weeks ago I bit the bullet and bought myself a Felt TK3 track bike.

A Felt TK3…

Now the astute amongst you will no doubt have noticed that there’s no brakes. That’s not such a big deal as it’s a 250m track, there are no obstacles and everyone can only go in one direction. If someone in front of you crashes it usually happens so quick that even if you had brakes you wouldn’t be able to stop anyway. The best you can hope for is that you can swerve around them.

There are also no gears. That’s standard fare for track bikes. You can change gears, but only be manually removing one cog/chainring and replacing it with a different one, before the race starts. Once you’re moving your top speed is determined solely by how fast you can turn your legs. Top track cyclists can hit 160rpm+ whereas I struggle with about 110rpm!

So, tomorrow night’s my debut. I’ve never ridden a track bike, and never been on a velodrome, though I did head out to the first RAW night a few weeks ago to take photos and to see what it was all about. I basically sign on as a novice and they tell me everything I need to know. There’ll be other novices to race against and you can stay in the novice grade until you’re comfortable on track, at which point you can step up to Div 5. Div 1 sees a few Masters World Champions mixing it up with Australia’s stars of the future preparing for the Junior World Championships in Moscow this August. Should be fun!