Over the last few months I’ve been sitting on my arse doing nothing and increasingly feeling that I should get back out on the bike again. I’ve made a few abortive attempts which usually involved going for a ride on a Monday morning, then again on Tuesday whereupon we’d get one of those Sydney weeks of torrential rain and I’d be back to square one.

With that in mind, I bit the bullet and bought myself an indoor trainer, the Kurt Kinetic Road Machine.

The Kurt Kinetic on the back balcony…

The Kurt Kinetic with bike attached…

Riding on a trainer is usually pretty boring, so I’m not going to be replacing my weekend long ride with a multi-hour session on it, but it will be very good for the short, hard interval work which you can’t really do on the road, or, if you do find somewhere to try them like Centennial Park, it’s invariably windy & gusty which makes it very tough to stick to a particular effort level.

At least now if I wake up and the weather’s atrocious I can set up the trainer on the back balcony and do a shorter, more intense workout. Better than nothing!

Time for a new look around here! I decided to go with a name change. The old “Swim On” was appropriate back when I started as i was getting back into swimming after a long lay off, but times have changed and I don’t really bother with swim training any more. I’m now getting much more enjoyment out of riding my bike, so I’ve changed the name to 34x28 and have also bought the 34x28.com domain name.

Inspired by the name of a site run by one of cycling’s most notorious doping doctors, Michele Ferrari, 53x12.com, which signifies riding at speed in top gear (53-tooth front chainring and 12-tooth rear cog), I’ve opted for the complete opposite, a 34-tooth “compact” front chain ring and a 28-tooth rear cog, to signify a complete contrast with Ferrari’s outlook. Not only am I strongly against doping in cycling, but I’m also a crap cyclist, with 34x28 being my default gear once the roads head into the mountains :)

Also, in case you’re wondering, the background photo is taken in Bourg d’Oisans in France, near the bottom of the famed Alpe d’Huez climb, looking along the valley floor in the direction of the Col du Lauteret. I climbed Lauteret last year, but never made it up the Alpe due to a dodgy knee. Unfinished business!

What’s been going on. No updates in almost six months. Oops. So, a quick run down of what I’ve been up to is warranted. September saw us attending Steve & Nikki’s wedding over in Manly followed in November by Ange & Marksy’s wedding down in Gerroa. Two very enjoyable events, with the long weekend away in Gerroa an added bonus.

On the exercise front, I withdrew from the Canberra Half Ironman with a few weeks to go as I just wasn’t enjoying running. I figured this exercise lark was supposed to be fun, so why waste my time doing something that wasn’t? Instead, I took my refunded entry fee and used it to join Randwick-Botany Cycling Club, one of Australia’s oldest cycling clubs. They hold weekly races at 3pm on Saturdays, though I’ve only been down once and smashed myself for 50 minutes in C grade.

New Year’s Eve was a blast as Anna & Nathan put on a fancy dress boat party on the Harbour, so we were front and centre for the world famous Sydney NYE fireworks.

The beginning of the year has been busy as well, with me heading down to Bright in Victoria to ride the Alpine Classic, a 200km jaunt through the mountains with 3900m altitude gain. Pretty tough day on the bike, especially as the final climb was done in almost 40C. I spent most of that deliberately going as slow as possible so I didn’t overheat!

The weekend after that it was Nathan’s 40th, so we all decamped to Craig’s place in the Hunter Valley to celebrate with a barbie, drinks and a few dips in the pool. After that it was off to Japan for two weeks snowboarding! We’d been talking about going for years, ever since we got back from Canada, so when Nath decided he wanted to go for his 40th it was pretty easy to persuade the rest of us to join in.

There were 7 of us in the end, after Floody and Darrell got their respective other halves pregnant, forcing them to miss out, plus three guys who came over from the UK. Over the course of the two weeks we ended up with 1.5 metres of fresh, light powder, so to say we had a great time would be a bit of an understatement. After a few hours wandering around Tokyo it was back to the real world, so here I am at the beginning of March and it’s time to get back out on the bike and enjoy the remains of summer.

This week’s training went pretty well. I sat down and worked out an idealised training week which would allow me to get 4 rides and 4 runs in without too much messing around. I decided to go with rides on Mon, Tue, Fri & Sat mornings, and runs on Mon & Thurs evenings plus Wed and Sat mornings. Wednesday morning will be a long run and Saturday morning will be a long bike ride.

Given that the Double Gong is on Nov. 7th I’ll focus on riding until then, after which I can dial things back a bit and up the running if I’ve decided to do Canberra Half. Starting running again this week was pretty tough. Aerobically I have no problem, but I find I tend to run too quickly and my legs feel completely trashed the next day. I need to force myself to slow down for a couple of weeks until my achilles and other weak points get used to the stresses involved.

Myself and Marc got a good bike ride in on Sunday morning: Bobbin Head - Hawkesbury - Ettalong - Palm Beach - Bobbin Head for a total of 113km and 1700m of climbing. I forgot to eat early and often, so I was close to cramping big-time for the last 15km - that really annoying cramping where if you try to stretch your quads your hamstrings cramp and vice versa. The only solution is to soft-pedal as much as possible!

Anyway, that ride knocked me for six and I spent the afternoon on the couch watching TV. Lesson learned: more food, more often!

Last Week: 8h16, 184km, 86.0kg

Recently it had been three months since my last bout of proper exercise, riding through the Alps with Kev, so I figured enough time had elapsed and I should get my shit together and get back on the bike. Literally. I was back to my habitual weight of 89kg as I’d stacked on a couple of kilos enjoying the culinary delights of Europe, so, since the morning’s were still cold enough to discourage me from getting out of bed to train, I figured I’d do a couple of weeks of a ketogenic diet to shed some quick fat.

Three weeks and almost 4kg lighter, the weather had improved a bit so exercise began in earnest. While waiting for the weather to improve, I’d entered the Alpine Classic at the end of January, a 200km jaunt over the Australian Alps, so that’s now my main target. I’d also committed to doing the Double Gong with Marc, which consists of the usual Gong Ride from Sydney to Woollongong and then turning around and riding back. That’s a total of roughly 180km, with one or two short hills to liven things up. That’s on Nov. 7th, so it’s a slightly more immediate concern.

I’ve also just noticed that this year’s Canberra Half Ironman is the 10th and final running of the event, and since this was the event which defeated me in 2008 as I went in badly underprepared, so I’d like to give it another go this year. However, not having run in a year, and not having swum in two are my main concerns, so I think I’ll wait another month and see how things are going before deciding whether to enter or not.

Still, plenty of events on the horizon, so lots of training to do.

Last week: 5h47, 116km, 85.5kg

OK, 7 weeks after getting back from Europe, I’ve finally managed to upload all my photos!

Head over to the photos section to check them out.

There’s an observatory on one of the hills above my apartment, so I decided that I’d ride up there today. Now that I’ve got net access in the apartment, I looked up Google Maps and noticed that the road I’d be taking continued on up to Col d’Eze where I’d ridden yesterday, so I decided I might as well head up there again. I wanted to go a bit further than Eze, without heading down to the coast, and I thought Mont Agel looked like a suitable destination. At 1200m above sea-level it would provide a good climbing opportunity. However, when I zoomed in to Street View I noticed the coverage stopped halfway up the climb. A sign at the side of the road pointed out that the top is a military installation and therefore access is ‘interdit’. That was the end of that plan! (isn’t Street View wonderful :-)

A 6am alarm this morning, a spot of breakfast and I was out on the road by seven. I saw a few other cyclist heading in different directions, but apart from that there was almost zero traffic. Perfect cycling conditions. After a few flat kilometres I reached the turn off which would take me up to the Observatory and the climbing started. My Garmin was registering a consistent gradient of between 7 and 9%, so I settled into a rhythm and trundled along, enjoying the view into the hills behind Nice as I got higher and higher. The maps indicated a side road which would take me right up to the Observatory itself, but when I got there access was barred by a closed gate and a sign indicating what time the tour was.

Just cycled up here…

Back on the road I continued towards Col d’Eze, joining up with yesterday’s route after about a kilometre. The breeze coming off the sea was pushing clouds up the hill in front of me and as I got higher I ended up cycling through the clouds for a while. It was pretty handy for keeping me cool, and I could still see blue skies every now and then, so I knew that I’d be in sunshine again when I reached the top.

Clouds being pushed uphill by the sea breeze

Once at Col d’Eze, I’d took a planned detour up to the Parc Forestier to add a bit of extra climbing and to make up for the fact that I couldn’t go up Mont Agel. The road was a bit longer than expected, but once at the top I was back in sunshine and could look into the hills behind Nice and see the clouds rolling in from the mountains.

The hills behind Nice

Clouds rolling in over the mountains

Rather than going back the way I came, the map had shown another route which would take me back to the main road, so I headed off down there. There was a sign which seemed to indicate that bikes were forbidden, but the relevant barrier was open and I saw a ranger shortly afterwards who said ‘bonjour’ so there didn’t seem to be a problem. A later sign said access was forbidden, except for bikes so it was all a bit confusing.

Shortly afterward the road surface disappeared, to be replaced with something resembling a fire trail in the Blue Mountains - lots of loose stones. Since I had come a fair way downhill, I was reluctant to turn around and head back up, so I continued on, imagining myself on the Strade Bianche, the unpaved roads used this year in the Giro’s 8th stage (won by Cadel), though thankfully without the rain & mud. My reverie was quickly interrupted by the hiss of a puncture, my first in 5,000km of riding. After a relatively straightforward tube change I was thinking to myself “I’m in the middle of nowhere here, with another 2-3km of this crappy surface, and I’ve only one more CO₂ cartridge. I hope I don’t puncture again!” I took off gingerly and tried both to avoid the worst of the stones and to minimise the weight on the tyres, until the surface improved after nearly a kilometre. Now things weren’t too bad. The track would have been perfect for a bike: narrow, dropping downhill with plenty of switchbacks, were it not for a surface which was still composed of loose gravel and water bars every 50m to prevent erosion.

My version of the Strade Bianche (the non-stony version)

After another kilometre of this I was back on the main road for a couple of kilometres before taking a right and enjoying a long downhill ride into the valley behind the hills I’d just climbed up. I had two cars in front of me to show me the way and carving through the sweeping bends was great fun. Back on the valley floor it was a pretty cruisey ride, following the river back to Nice. Home by 10am, a quick shower and then off down to the patisserie for some real French chocolate croissants. Happy days!

After yesterday’s debacle I was keen to get out and ensure that the Shimano/SRAM hybrid was OK in the hills. Kevin suggested I try out the climb to Col d’Eze, so after figuring out where it was on the map I plotted a route. This all took a bit longer than anticipated, as without internet in the apartment, or a data package on my French SIM, I was restricted to paper maps, not Google Maps. Old-skool!

Off I went at 7am this morning, greeted with clear blue skies and nary a car on the roads. I had two Michelin maps stuck in my back pocket to assist with route-finding and things were looking good. Getting on to the road to Col d’Eze required a couple of U-turns as I realised I’d overshot the required turn, but I was slowly making my way uphill at gradients between 7 and 12%. Avenue de la Condamine was my target, and once there it was simply a case of following the road until I reached the Col. The relatively constant gradient made it easy enough to settle in to a rhythm and I reached the top around 8am.

Near Col d'Eze looking back towards Nice

Just to rub things in, I texted Kev to point out that he was probably sitting on a bus on his way to work, whereas I was sitting atop the Col on my way to Monaco! Rather than drop straight back down to the coast I decided on the longer, more gradual downhill which would take me above Monte Carlo and would reach the coast closer to Menton. The morning traffic had picked up a bit and I was settled in behind a group of cars when a rider wearing a Monaco club outfit went past. I decided to follow him and, since he obviously knew the roads, I was able to speed downhill with relative abandon, using him as a guide to how tight upcoming corners were. Over the course of about 10km I only lost about 150m to him, so I was pretty happy with that and since we were travelling a lot faster than the cars, I didn’t have anyone behind me waiting to get past. Good fun.

I reached the coast at a small town between Menton and Cap Martin. I was off the edge of the detailed Nice map I had, and the other map covered the whole South-East of the country so it wasn’t detailed enough to figure out which streets I needed to take, so I decided to stick to the coast and follow the road signs for Nice, being careful to avoid ending up on the autoroute! This was probably the best part of the ride: the Mediterranean on one side, the mountains on the other, and riding through all the famous towns in the area: Cap Martin, Monte Carlo, part of the F1 course in Monaco, Cap-d’Ail, Beaulieu-sur-Mer, a coffee stop in St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, then back home to Nice.

Rascasse Corner on the Monaco F1 track

Near Beaulieu-sur-Mer, looking back to where I've come from

...and where I'm going to.

The harbour in St. Jean Cap Ferrat

Almost home: near Villefranche-sur-Mer, looking towards Nice

Home four hours and 70km or so after I’d started, and it was still only 1130am. Despite the roads being narrow and cars having to wait behind me in parts, no-one honked at me, no-one told me to get off the road, and everyone left a decent amount of room when going past. A big difference from bogan Sydney drivers! I could get used to living in this part of the world.

My first few days in Nice have been great. Spent the first day getting set up with a French SIM card, some food for the apartment and re-building my bike after the flight, before heading out for a ride along the coast to Juan-les-Pins, where Sean’s wedding will be held. All went well until I reached Juan-les-Pins, at which point my rear derailleur stopped working. It was stuck in the hardest gear too and kept trying to shift completely off the cog. Not what you want when you’re 25km from home in a foreign country where you don’t know anyone. A guy in a car garage saw me messing around with it and offered to help, at which point my schoolboy French let me down. I assumed the cable had come loose, but I had no idea what pliers was in French, so when I tried to ask him if he had any pliers I was in fact asking him if he had folded himself??!! We managed to figure things out in the end though and at least lock the derailleur in an easier gear so I could ride home.

Once back in Nice, a quick trip to the bike shop revealed that the shifter mechanism was broken (dodgy baggage handling!) and needed replacement. Of course, no bike shop in Nice stocks SRAM, so I had to go with a new Shimano shifter, then, because Shimano and SRAM aren’t compatible, I had to pay for a new Shinamo rear derailleur as well. Given that there’s no way I was cycling in the Alps with only two gears, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, so €210 later and the bike was good to go, though looking a bit unsightly due to the Shimano cables exiting out the side of the lever instead of being routed under the handlebar tape like SRAM.

Oh well, all good things come to an end, and in my case my training has been undone by a knee injury! I first noticed a niggle in my left knee after the long day of climbing in the Royal National Park a couple of weeks ago. It felt like my patella wasn’t tracking properly, but was scraping on something. Since I’d been fiddling with the float on my pedals and my seat in the days prior to the ride, I assumed that was the problem. I put them back to their previous settings and had no trouble with the knee over the following two weeks so thought nothing more of it.

I’d booked in to see a physio anyway and when the appointment came up I went along for an assessment. She diagnosed me as hardly using my core at all, having bad posture and accused me of being a tight-arse :) Well not quite, but she did say I had tight glutes and all those things were probably contributing to my knee issue in varying degrees. Exercises and stretches were prescribed.

I continued training but the problem flared up again when I did my next hard interval session, requiring me to put a lot of power out. It’s not painful, so I wasn’t too concerned and I stuck to my plan and went down to ride some serious hills with Simon the weekend before last. Although I was concerned at how the knee would cope, I needed to find out now rather than wait until I got to France. While the ride wasn’t too much of an issue, the knee was quite sore at the end of it and I was straight into the physio on Monday.

Ultimately it’s an inflammation and there’s no way of knowing whether I’m doing damage to cartilage or not without doing an MRI which isn’t practical since I’m off to France in less than a week. Hailey’s diagnosis was to take it easy for a bit, build back up gradually and see how the knee reacts, so I took last week off the bike completely, which was probably just as well as it took until Thursday before my knee felt OK again! I have only done one ride this week due to copious amounts of rain, but I’ve a long, flat ride scheduled for the weekend, so that will give a good indication of what’s going on.

If that relatively easy ride causes multi-day inflammation I may have to seriously revise my cycling plans in France. After all, if a 118km ride with 1800m vertical causes 6 days of knee pain, the 175km w/ 5000m vertical of La Marmotte could be a real problem!

In the meantime I just have to keep going my exercises and stretches and see what happens. Fingers crossed.

…with the sound of cyclists suffering! Two weeks ago I headed down to Port Kembla to go for a ride with a friend of mine, Simon. He was going to take me up two of the bigger climbs near him - Saddleback (avg: 6.6%, max: 14%) and Jamberoo (avg: 8.5%, max: 18%) - so I could see what climbing ‘proper’ gradients is like before heading off to France.

I had my full France set-up on the bike: compact cranks, an 11-28 on the rear, plus my new Garmin 500 GPS telling me all the details on the ride: speed, cadence, HR, plus new stuff like gradient and VAM (how fast I was going vertically in metres/hour).

As it turned out Saddleback wasn’t too bad, although there were one or two super-steep pitches where my Garmin told me it was 18%, though I’m not sure how accurate it is for stuff like that yet. Jamberoo was a whole different ball game as it’s just relentless. The first couple of kilometres are just constant 10-15% with no let up which is really tough. Myself and Simon climbed at our own pace, and I’d stop every now and again to wait for him, but also to get a much-needed break! Lugging 86kg up a 14% grade is hard bloody work! There’s a section where it eases off in the middle and then the last few kilometres are mainly around 6-7% with a few 10%+ pitches.

All up we rode 118km but my knee was pretty sore by the end of it. Will have to head back to the physio!

I racked up another good week on the bike this week, topped off by a 4hr ride yesterday. After failing to climb the Waterfall climb without stopping last week, I resolved this week to ride to Waterfall, descend the climb, turn around and ride home. I also wanted to try eating more on the ride and to see if I could keep the power down in the latter stages of the ride as well.

With this in mind, I made up a concentrated solution from carb/protein powder to take occasional swigs out of as I rode, and this worked out pretty well. I also stopped at two petrol stations along the ride to buy a muesli bar and some jellies, and also to refill my water bottles. In truth I may have overdone it, as while I had no problem maintaining the power all the way home, I was close to getting a stitch, which probably means I was eating more than my stomach could absorb under effort.

The other good news is that I made it up the Waterfall climb without too much pain. The top section was still tough, but I’d made a point of noting the exact distance on the way down, so this time I knew exactly how much suffering was left before the top. It definitely wasn’t as hard as last week, partly due to the fact that I’d eaten properly this week and partly due to the fact that I’d ridden 4h50 when I started the climb last week, rather than 2h00 when I started yesterday.

While reading up on the features of the power meter software I use, I discovered the Performance Management Chart above, which shows how much work I am absorbing. The most important line is the blue one which is an indication of my fitness level and it’s increasing slowly but surely. The pink line indicates the average amount of work I’ve done over the last few days, and the yellow line indicates how much of a hole I’ve dug for myself in doing the work - basically how knackered I am. The yellow line is basically the pink line mirrored about the blue line, e.g: when the pink line peaks at approx. 72 (right axis) my fitness level was 38 (right-axis) and my cumulative fatigue was 34. This makes sense as the fitter you are, the less of a toll a given work load takes on me.

Over the last three weeks my weight has dropped from 89.3 to 86.2 this morning as well, so, so far so good, things are moving in the right direction.

Training’s been going reasonably well over the last couple of weeks. The weather has interfered on occasion, as have one or two social events, and I took it way too easy on the rest week which was very slack of me, but in general, I’m getting all the important sessions done every week. My compact cranks (50/34) and 11-28 rear cassette cluster arrived two weeks ago, so I fitted them to the bike last weekend. As a result, my lowest gear ratio went from 1.56 (39/25) to 1.21 (34/28), which, although it’s complete overkill for whatever I’m likely to find around Sydney, will come in bloody handy when the Galibier rears up to 11% after 28km of continuous climbing! I haven’t put the 11-28 cassette on yet as the 11-25 I already have is fine for the moment.

Yesterday it was time for another long ride, and I wanted to ride more hills this time, so I decided to drive to Sutherland and ride loops of the National Park for six hours. Apart from the climb to Otford, I hadn’t ridden any of the climbs in the park, so I structured the route so I’d end up riding all the main ones. I parked at Waratah Park, then rode to Heathcote along the Pacific Highway before heading to the coast and entering the park at Otford. An initial largely downhill stretch took me to the turn off for Waterfall, but I went straight on and started my first climb of the day up to the Garie turn off. That went well and I was then into the gently undulating, exposed part across the top of the park. That was a pain in the arse, literally, as the road surface is chip and seal and really rough. Having pumped my tyres to 110psi before I left the house, this was not comfortable! Finally I came to the drop down to Audley Weir before starting the climb out to the park entrance at Loftus.

I’ve driven this road a couple of times and always thought it would be a hard climb, but apart from an initial sharp pitch it was actually OK. After getting back to the car I ate another muesli bar, restocked with water and headed off for the second lap. The plan was to ride the lap in reverse, so, after dropping back down to Audley Weir, I encountered my toughest climb of the day heading south along Sir Bertram Stevens Drive. My plan had been to climb at around 230W, but this was bloody steep and I had no choice but to ride at 280-300W. Even then I was only travelling at about 8kph! Once at the top it was back to the shitty road surface, but I’d prepared this time and had let about 20psi out of my tyres, so this time I was a lot more bearable. I was starting to get pretty hungry now, and the sun was heating up, so after descending to the Waterfall turn off I munched my last muesli bar, guzzled some more water and set off for Otford. I was familiar with this climb, so it was fairly easygoing, though I was still hungry and was now regretting my decision to eat all of the muesli bar!

I realised at this stage that I hadn’t any money on me, as I’d left my wallet back in the car and had forgotten to put $20 in my jersey pocket. I was also down to less than a bidon of water, 30km from the car and bloody tired already. I was a bit worried about bonking, the suitably technical term for when your body runs out of glycogen and just shuts down. Although it hasn’t happened to me, I’ve heard stories and didn’t fancy being stuck 20km or more from the car needing a sugar fix with no cash on me. I decided that riding back through the park, up the Waterfall climb and back along the Princes Highway would be the best way back to the car, which in hindsight might have been the first indication that I wasn’t thinking straight! Anyway, after the largely downhill run from Otford I knew that the Waterfall climb was the main obstacle between me and the car and that there was a surprise steep pitch near the top. The first part of the climb was a little bit steep, but then it settled down in the middle and all was well. I’d only ridden down this hill before, so only had the vaguest idea of where the top was when ascending. Sure enough, after ten minutes or so of climbing (all the while fantasising about the food I’d eat when I finished) the road pitched up.

A roadside sign indicated 2km of windy roads, so I assumed the climb was that long. I got stuck in, but by this time I was knackered and was struggling to generate enough power. I was back up to 280W and travelling around 9kph again, so the progress was slow. I focused on the next bend, then rounded that to a longer straight and refocused on the following bend. However, when I rounded that bend and saw another I was shattered and had to stop for a quick breather and a stretch of the legs. I was a bit pissed off by this stage, and more so when I got going after two minutes, rounded the next bend and saw the train line just up the road! If I’d kept going for another 400m I would have made the top of the climb! Oh well, if I’d fuelled myself properly in the first place I wouldn’t have had that problem in the first place. Having reached Waterfall it was a slightly downhill 15km back to the car, then straight to the shops for a Coke and a large bag of jellies!

Total ride time was 5h17m and a distance of 129km. That’s my longest ever ride time-wise and only a couple of kilometres off longest distance too, though this was a lot hillier and therefore a good bit harder than the ride three weeks ago. I was a bit annoyed at not getting the planned six hours in, though it’s a lesson to me to figure out a proper strategy for ensuring I get enough food in during long rides. I was also pretty tired at the end of the 5hr ride three weeks ago, so I need to be able to finish these relatively strongly if I’m to have any hope in La Marmotte which could easily take me 10 hours or more. On a positive note, all the climbing went pretty well and I’ve read reports that the top pitch of the Waterfall climb can be up to 12%, and that the main pitch South out of Audley Weir is around 9%, both of which are at the upper end of what I’ll face in France, so at least I’ve experienced a little of what I’m in for.

One of the concerns I had when I initially received my training program from Alex was that it didn’t include any rides longer than three hours. Given that La Marmotte, even if everything goes perfectly, will most likely take me at least eight hours, this could have been a problem. Alex told me just to go on an extra-long ride every couple of weeks, but otherwise to stick to the plan. With that in mind, on Saturday I resolved to ride for five hours with some small hills thrown in.

I’d ordered a second bottle cage and bidon which had arrived earlier in the week, so I stocked up on water, threw a few muesli bars in my jersey pockets and hit the road, armed with $50 for food refills and emergencies. The first part of the ride was straightforward enough as it’s my usual Saturday long ride, but once I got to Cronulla it was all relatively new territory. I’d ridden the route once before a few years ago as part of the Gong Ride so I knew where I was going.

There were plenty of cyclists heading South as well, though I resisted the temptation to tack onto the back of the pelotons and stuck to my own pace. Once past the Audley entrance to the National Park there was a nice, wide shoulder to the road and less traffic lights which made things more enjoyable, though I was also my first and only encounter with dickheads, as some arsehole hung out the passenger window and roared something at me as he went past, hoping to scare me off my bike. At best he got a mild look of surprise on my face, but no wobbles on the bike!

I entered the park at Waterfall and got to practice some descending, a skill which will be vitally important in France, then got stuck into the gradual climb up to Otford which felt a lot easier than the last time I had done it a few years ago. That must mean I’m a lot fitter, as I’m certainly not lighter! I reached Stanwell Tops after 2h 40m and I was still feeling good. The only problem I had was that my lower back was acting up, presumably due to the different position and different recruitment of muscles while climbing. A bit of stretching sorted things out quickly, but I’ll have to do lots more stretching over the next few months to really loosen up the muscles around the back/hip area. The last thing I need is back troubles when faced with two hours plus of continuous climbing!

Stanwell Tops was my rough turn around point, and I knew it would be a bit easier on the way back as it was gradually downhill for most of it. Unfortunately the first 10km or so was still rolling hills, so I wasn’t quite done with the uphill stuff yet, but once back to Waterfall I was back on the smooth, wide shoulder, with a slight tailwind meaning 40km/h+ was easy enough. Once I made it back to Cronulla I was back on my normal long-ride route and it was just a matter of counting down the kilometres until I was home.

The last half an hour was a bit tough mentally. I was starting to get properly fatigued and was struggling to keep the power up where I wanted it. As I headed back to the coast I was also riding into a headwind which didn’t help matters but I stuck with it and made it home without too much hassle: 4h 57m ride time, not including traffic light stops etc. for a grand total of 132.3km, my longest ride by 32km.

Now I’ll have to plan a six hour route in a couple of weeks!

It would seem that I haven’t commented at all on how my training program is going since I did the MAP tests and rented the power meter seven weeks ago. Pretty slack of me, so I’ll try and summarise it a bit here.

The basic structure of a training week is that I ride on Mon, Tue, Wed, Thurs, with a day off on Friday, a long ride on Saturday and then Sunday off as well. The key sessions are a tempo ride on Monday, a hard intervals session on Thursday and then the long ride on Saturday. Each session has a required power band that I must ride in for the duration of the ride, with the power bands determined from my MAP test results as follows:

Long rides are in Zone 1, tempo in Zone 2 and intervals in Zone 4. Since each zone comprises a fairly wide power band, and since power fluctuates pretty easily on-road, I opted to aim for the middle of the relevant power band, so 200W for Z1, 230W for Z2 and 285W for Z4.

The first two weeks of the programme were a bit of struggle. The weather was atrocious for the first week, resulting in me missing scheduled sessions which wasn’t an auspicious start. The second week was much better and I managed to get all the required sessions done. The next two weeks were basically time off as first Mum & Dad were here for a visit and then I was in NZ for Bevin’s wedding, although I did managed to do some MTBing while over there so at least I wasn’t sitting on my arse all the time. On my return from NZ, if I had continued the program where I’d left off, I would have done one week and then had a rest week, so I opted to just restart the program from scratch so I’d have a full three weeks before the next rest week and that’s what I’ve been doing.

So far, so good, though I missed one session the week before last. I’m finding things getting easier as I go along, though I want to string a couple of decent weeks training together to see what the cumulative fatigue over a 3-4 week block will be like. I’ll have done three solid weeks this Sunday, so I’ll see how I feel then.

Totals:

Bevin and Jonny tied the knot in Wanaka at the end of February, so that was a perfect excuse for a holiday. Mum & Dad came to Sydney to visit myself and Jacqui for a few days first, and Cliona was able to make it over to Wanaka as well. Cormac, Belinda, Jacob, Dave and Isabella couldn’t make it due to the effects of the bloody GFC, which was a bit unfortunate.

I arrived on Tuesday and went straight to Fergburger in Queenstown to sample the best burgers in the world, and to take a photo to annoy Sean, Tom, Dave and Kev back in Ireland as it was a regular stop for us on our ski trips to NZ. Bevin had kindly purchased some Brewski for me, which was awaiting my arrival in the fridge, so that made for a perfect start to the holiday.

Cliona, Margaret and John were due to arrive the following day, and Jacqui was going to arrive on Friday, so I had some time to myself. I rented a bike and rode the offroad trails to Lake Hawea and back., enjoying nice scenery and a well-tended trail, but no real singletrack - definitely a trail for tourists rather than MTB enthusiasts, but worth the ride nonetheless.

The lead-up to the wedding was pretty easy going. Bevin and Jonny seemed to be pretty chilled about it all, so, apart from all the dramas suffered by Cliona, John and Margaret on their travels from Ireland, the days beforehand were pretty relaxing. The day itself was good fun. The wedding wasn’t starting until 4:30, so myself and Jacqui went for a bike ride along the lakeside in the morning. I’d volunteered to take unofficial photos, so I had to gather Bevin’s collection of lenses to play around with and that was it.

The ceremony was held down at Wanaka Station Park and the separate parties arrived in classic cars which looked great. They boys were stylin’ in their matching Nikes and the bridesmaids looked stunning! After a short delay, Bevin showed up and looked absolutely beautiful. My sisters scrub up well :-) Cara, their dog, ran around making sure all was well during proceedings, which were conducted under a huge, ancient sequoia tree. Jonny’s cousin, Scott, was the celebrant and all went without a hitch, apart from the best man, Jonny’s brother, Tom, almost fainting in the heat! The formalities over with, it was back to the hotel for the reception, speeches, drinks and dancing.

We still had a couple of days to relax before flying back to Sydney, so we just chilled out, visited Puzzleworld and went for a stroll up Mt. Iron. Since we were flying out of Queenstown, I insisted on another visit to Fergburger before leaving!

Since then, I’ve been a bit slack getting all the photos organised as I was hampered by the fact that each of the cameras used had a different time zone, and the new Aperture 3 is frankly atrocious at adjusting the photos’ metadata, leaving me in the end to sort the photos manually.

Anyway, here they are: Wedding Photos and general Holiday Photos.

Yesterday was the big day; my first ever MAP test! I’d done no cycling on Sunday, and nothing on Monday morning either, so my legs should have recovered from Saturday’s ride. The test was scheduled for 14:30, so I was determined to take things easy, get hydrated and to eat accordingly. The last thing you want on any max. effort test is to feel lunch sitting in your gut!

After driving over to Alex’s house he explained the mechanics of the test. It was to be done on his indoor trainer which is fitted with SRM cranks to measure the power being generated. The general idea was that I would be told to cycle at a particular power output which would increase every minute until I could do no more.

I really had no idea what to expect, or what sort of power output I’d be capable of. I’d made a vague effort to work out how much power bad been required for my Calga TT a few months back and had come up with 153W, so I figured anything over 200W would be good. Alex left me to do a 20 minute warm-up and get used to the SRM readout. It’s surprisingly sensitive, so maintaining a steady power output is very hard for an inexperienced user. I was fluctuating all over the place, often 20W over or under the level I was aiming for. I tried a couple of short efforts and managed to top 300W easily enough, so things were looking up.

Once I’d warmed up thoroughly, Alex decided to start me off at 125W and I’d be required to increase by 25W every minute. 125W is super easy, and I was soon past 200W and heading for 250W without feeling too stressed. I was concentrating on trying to minimise the yo-yoing around the target wattage and dealing with the gearing on the test bike. With only 7 gears there’s a large jump between each one, and when I chose to shift into my final gear around 300W it took ages to engage which was a bit off-putting.

By this time I was breathing hard and I knew the end would be coming up soon, though I desperately wanted to reach 400W. Every minute the pressure piled on and on and I could feel the lactate starting to burn in my quads. For some reason, my right quad was burning more than my left, so I obviously favour it to a large degree. By 375W I was consciously trying to work my left leg harder, reasoning that since it wasn’t burning as much it could clearly do more work, then, finally, I was there: 400W. Having reached that goal, the next target became to finish the full minute at 400, though that proved to be too much to ask. After just short of 30 seconds my power started dropping consistently below 400 and I was cooked. That’s it - show’s over, I could spin the legs over and try to get some breath back.

Alex disappeared to download and analyse the power data and returned shortly afterwards to announce that my mean maximal aerobic power (MAP) is 406W. I was pretty happy with that.

Emil, my boss in Canada, who’s a pretty decent track rider, reckons he’s never managed 400W in any of his MAP tests, but he’s 20kg lighter than me and it’s easier for heavier guys to put out bigger numbers. Anyway, that’s the baseline established and Alex is designing my training plan to take me through to La Marmotte in July. I’ve also got a shiny, rented power meter fitted to my bike for the duration of the plan: another gadget to play with!

Update: here’s the graph of my MAP test. The green line is cadence, so you can see I changed gear twice during the test. The yellow line is power, which, although it oscillates wildly, increases steadily until I can’t hack the pace any more, and you can see the line tailing off on the right-hand side.

After a couple of weeks off over Christmas, I’ve been back into the training in earnest as the reality of La Marmotte starts to sink in.

I ended up riding 219km this week, which is my biggest week ever, so I’m pretty happy with that. Saturday’s long ride of 90km was tougher than expected due to the 35C temperatures and a 30km/h headwind for much of the return journey. I was certainly glad to get home after that one and spent the rest of the day flaked out on the couch watching the Tour Down Under live on SBS.

My MAP test is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, so hopefully my legs feel OK then and aren’t still dead from this week! Thankfully Tuesday is a public holiday for Australia Day, so I can recover from the test’s exertions then!

The other good news is that I’ve got rid of the Christmas weight gain and am now back to 88kg. My training load has been enough to encourage slow and steady weight drop up to now, so if this continues there’ll be no need for a semi-diet at all.

Both my parents are what I would term “Holy Joes”. It’s not a derogatory term, I just use it to mean that they’re religious, their religion is important to them and that they take it, and the observation of it, seriously. As a result, I was baptised a Catholic at three weeks old and my parents fulfilled their obligations (to the Church) to raise me as a Catholic.

Fortunately for me, but unfortunately for the Catholic Church, my parents also placed a strong emphasis on education, and as a result, as soon as I was old enough to think for myself I started questioning the existence of God, quickly coming to the conclusion that it was a total fabrication. This resulted in many discussions with my Dad, who, although he didn’t agree with my conclusions, wanted to ensure that I had given careful consideration to my point of view and that it wasn’t a knee-jerk teenage thing.

I’ve been an atheist for over 20 years now and one thing that has bothered me more and more in recent years is that the Catholic Church still counted me as a member. The existence of the Catholic Church pretty much proves there is no God, as surely a benevolent and loving God would baulk at being represented by such a fucked-up organisation?

I had wondered how to go about getting excommunicated until I realised that being excommunicated only meant you were a member in bad standing, not that you’d left. Then, last week, while reading about Atheism Ireland’s response to Ireland’s new blasphemy law, I noticed a link to Count Me Out, an Irish web site set up to make the process of leaving the Church as easy as possible. As it turns out, there’s been a provision in Canon Law since 1983, called an actus formalis defectionis ab Ecclesia catholica which allows you to formally leave. You sign a declaration, provide some identifying information (date of birth, parents’ names, place of baptism etc.) and send it off to your local diocese, the Church cogs roll and you’re out the door. You’re still in the Church records as having been baptised, but the record is amended to note your defection. According to the Church, baptism imparts an indelible seal, so technically I’m still a Christian, but since that’s just more religious mumbo-jumbo it doesn’t really bother me. The important thing is that I’ll no longer be a member, so they’re free to believe whatever nonsense they like.

Anyway, you’re required to send the request to the diocese in which you live, not the one in which you were baptised, so my situation is slightly complicated by the fact that I now live on the other side of the planet and I’ve never had any dealings with the Catholic Church here. Anyway, I posted my request yesterday, so I’ll wait and see what happens.

As mentioned previously, I’ve entered La Marmotte and have engaged a coach to train me for the event. While I’m confident that he knows what he’s talking about and will be well capable of designing a programme to prepare me for the event, there are two other obstacles to success.

The first is my inherent laziness. Family and swimmers who trained with me will remember my lack of discipline when it came to training. Sure, I trained, but rarely as much as I should have, and if it wasn’t for the fact that my sister was more dedicated than I, I’d have remained in bed a lot more often when the 4:45am alarm went off. Still, that’s my cross to bear and I can only resolve to force myself out of bed in the morning as required.

The second problem is my weight, or more specifically the surplus of it. The advantage gained by extra weight travelling downhill is more than wiped out by the disadvantage of carrying said extra weight uphill, so in an event with 5000m of climbing, being 89.5kg is a distinct handicap. In September I was weighing in at 93.4kg and the commencement of cycling training, combined with a mini-diet, got me down to 88.3kg by November as which point I stopped the mini diet. The idea was to see if I could maintain the new lower weight for a while before making another step down. Christmas was the big hurdle, but I think I did OK to limit the weight gain to about a kilo.

Anyway, the scales tell me I consist of 20.5% body fat, leaving my non-fat body weighing 71.2kg. If I could get to 10% BF I’d then be down to 78.3kg or a 13% weight loss. That should help my climbing be something less than glacial! The plan at this stage is to do nothing until I’ve completed the MAP test, as the results are useless if I’m tired or lacking energy for the test, then to reactivate the mini-diet in stages to get to my goal weight. However, if I’m losing weight anyway as a result of following the training program, there’ll be no need for the mini-diet. Time will tell.