Now.. what to wear?? – may be a slightly odd thing to think (avoided the sexist statement of sounding like a woman there!)but if I was going to ride, I didn’t really want to make an idiot of myself – so the ballgown was a definite “no no”..

So, under my wife’s instruction, I wasn’t allowed to dress in my retro jerseys and shorts, instead, had to go undercover in jeans.. Managed to find a cycling related jumper though – don’t get to wear that one very often, so off we went.

I should add at this point that today had been a hectic one (here’s where I start to stack up the excuses) with a cyclo cross event in Colchester – an hour of full on racing, totally draining my weak and feeble body of strength and energy (that oughta do it – message across: “I’m tired and weak”)

The rush home from the race, dropping off the kids (not a euphamism), then on to Norwich to pick up some friends, and spend 15 minutes driving round looking round for a parking space – we should realy have ridden too, as there were a good assortment of bikes outside the pub, but 20 addtionbal miles would have gone down like a glass of cold sick with my wife.

After getting a drink (not of sick), we proceeded upstairs where the compares were just starting the proceedings with the first qualifying heats. The place was already heaving, with the rig at one end of the function room, and everyone else watching. The compare was doing a great job of whipping people up, to get behind their riders. There was a bit of added rivalry with 2 major clubs from Norwich well represented: Iceni Velo had organised the event, and VC Norwich had good representation – nothing like a bit of friendly rivalry! I should at this point explain what Rollapalza is, I suppose: It’s Roller Racing, and (as I’ve been failing to explain to my work colleagues), it consists of 2 bikes, connected to static rollers, and riders attempt to complete the 500m course as fast as they can. The progress is indicated by a large clock behind them (for the spectators to see), with the clock hands indicating progress of each rider.

After watching the first few riders spinning their proverbials off, I started to get nervous – not the best time to have second thoughts, but what the hell – just have a laugh, and i’d dragged my wife and friends along for the evening, so I ought to at least give it a go – after all, how hard could it possibly be? – standby for gratuitous story of how I was much better the longer ago it was: I used to be able to sprint on junior gears at 40mph, and once followed a truck at 53mph (before the computer on the bike stopped working). So I knew (well I hoped) I wouldn’t be last – the thought if the cross race kept creepign in though…

So – I signed my money, and got a stamp on my hand (which after 24 hours, and several hand washes and a shower, still hasn’t faded), and put my name down.

I was drawn against a team mate, but this first round was just about going as fast as you could, to qualify for subsequent rounds. I sat on the bike, and waited to be adjusted – facing a sea of faces, offering encouragement and banter about what we were about to do to ourselves. The countdown – overwhelming anticipation – last minute thoughts of ride on the tops or drops? – pull forward on sit back?? – can I remember how to even pedal?? – 5-4-3-2-1 GOOOOOO! – got the gear going ok, my trainers helpd in tightly by good old fashioned toestraps – phased out in the laste 80s by the introductions of clipless pedals – still very popular in track racing though – I should add that I wasn’t thinking all this while I racing, I’m just going off on a tangent.. The two helpers were shouting in our ears how far it was to go – it wasn’t about winning, although it would have been nice to take a scalp to boost my confidence, I was up against a super sprinter, although he hadn’t been riding too much – I on the other hand had RIDDEN A CROSS RACE – did I mention that??!

“100 metres to go” – god, it seemed like i’d be pedalling for ages already, and I was starting to die – couldn’t keep the gear going… – managed to creep across the line, and lost by about 5 100ths of a second.. would it be enough to qualifty? – WHO CARES – I was simply trying to stop the gear, and climb off the bike and try not to collapse.. My legs had turned to jelly, and as I rejoined my friends and wife, the breathing and heat caught up with me [stand under the fan].. I watched the next few heats, then got another pint. The last of the competitors finished their heats, and a few more people beat my time – although my legs were shot, I was hoping that I’d done enough to qualify…. As it turned out, I had done just enough (helped by the fact that my rivel who’d beaten didn’t feel at all well after out bout, so pulled out)

The wait for the heats intensified, and I discovered I was drawn against “Smiley” – someone i’d ridden with and against since we were juniors – in 1989! He has an awesome turn of speed (although he’d done the same cross race as me – finishing higher up). He once offered to lead me out in a race and dropped me in the process before sprinting as I gasped for breathe – he was the record holder at Bob Whitear’s infamous fitness test – so I didn’t fancy my chances..

5-4-3-2-1…………..(a surprise start): GO – off again – oops, false start – think someone in the crowd shouted go, so I GOed!! – off again [properly this time], and this time my legs felt better than in qualifiying – I whipped the gear round, and wasn’t dying, but couldn’t go any faster – my helper was shouting in my ear “you’re level – keep it up – push push push” and I pushed!!…. We finshed – I was only three 10ths of a second behind him.. – so close, but i’d given my all and lost out to the better rider.

Even if i’d made that round, I wasn’t sure I could have done many more – especially as the final was held over 1km – twice the distance – that wouldn’t have been pretty – cuppa sick anyone??!

The next one is in March, and i’m already thinking of what training I can do to get faster (short of losing 15 years) – sad, but that’s the competitive spirit in me..

It seems around the end of July, races seem to dry up and become less frequent, the motivation to keep up those long rides is a bit harder, and intervals seem even harder.  It’s easy to become jaded.

I’ve found over the years that taking a full week off the bike works wonders.  It allows your body to recover but not lose too much form.  It also helps if you can plan the rest of your season to get inspired to grab those last few points you might need to go up a category.

In my case, its the opportunity to have no racing for 8 weeks, so I can try and get rid of some fat before the cyclo cross season begins again.  Constant accelerating is made a lot harder if you’re carrying excess.  So I’ve cut out eating rubbish, and no smacking after my dinner (a bad habit which has crept into my lifestyle, and the kilos have trickled on).   

What makes this a little harder is that you don’t have a lot of reserves to call upon as I found out on a recent training ride with a couple of mates.  The plan was a steady 3 hours at no particular pace with a rare cafe stop.  These rides are normally a lot of fun, low stress and there’s a bit of messing about – attacking, sprinting for signs and the ubiquitous half wheeling..

However, an hour and a half into the ride and my legs were feeling it.  Not quite as strong as normal.  Sure enough, when the attacks started, I was able to accelerate, but had nothing other than that.  Legs just gave out with no pain.  An odd sensation really, no struggle, just a matter of fact statement from the legs saying ‘empty, now on strike at anything over 130 heartrate.  Please ask again when you’ve given me some carbs.’

So this week I’m not expecting too much in the way of speed, and if there are any attacks, I’d better make them in the first 45 minutes, when I have a bit of glycogen!

We are also using our new suppliers who build on Chosen hubs.  These also have a stealthy matte finish.

Drop us an enquiry if you’re interested!

Training has been going pretty well over the past couple of months – I’ve been getting in some consistent rides, not had more than 3 days
off the bike since January, and only twice had 3 days off.  So, the feeling you get when I get on the bike has been more or less what i’ve been expecting – no “god, i’ve lost all fitness” troughs that you get when your training’s a bit up and down.

So I ought to be feeling confident about my first race right?
– everything’s in place, done the hard work with my mates Shaun and Chris, should be fine?   I’ve been feeling pretty strong when i’ve been out with them..

Well I ought to be fine, but then the doubts kick in:

• what if Chris and Shaun are going rubbish too, and my feeling good is only in relation to how they’ve been going?
• What if I haven’t eaten enough – what if i’ve eaten too much and feel all bloated, what if i’m dehydrated? Blah blah, doubt
  upon ridiculous doubt…

“Sort yourself out – you’ve been racing to 20+ years, and for at least the past 18 years, you’ve done enough to get round – even the odd attack, so don’t worry”  And who would I be letting down if I got dropped? – no team mates in the race, no –one has made a special trip out to watch me..

So – I turn up at the HQ a little late – 45 mins before the start – still plenty of time, I sign on, dump my bag, quick trip to the loo,
then pin my number on..  The anticipation… – looking round the HQ – oh, ‘he looks pretty lean’… ‘I know he’s a better sprinter than me (but normally won’t be fit enough to make it to the sprint with anything left’ – doubt’s creeping back in again – I AM WHERE I AM – if I feel good, i’ll attack, if I feel crap, i’ll sit in till I come round (and everyone else starts to weaken – normally the fight starts to go out of
people after the glycogen runs out – after the first 50 minutes).
I rub the embrocation on… aah – that smell takes me back to my first races at the now demolished ‘Eastway’ – when the changing rooms would be filled with clouds of embrocation  - warm up balm warming riders legs, so they could race in shorts in Feb and March to look and feel more like racing cyclists – differentiation from the winter miles everyone’s been doing..  The lucky few (more nowadays) have some early colour in their legs from a week or two in Majorca – they’ll go well for the first month or so, then be brought back down
to the level of the rest of us with families, and other commitments.  The racing brings us all up to speed by May.

I go for my warm up – the race bike is ready – first time i’ve ridden it in ‘full race mode’ – the deep sections are in, and I feel pretty proud to be wheeling the full Fuerte Bici two-wheeled advert up the gravelly car park (some riders lift their bikes – never understood this as
there’s no weight on the tyres, so it wouldn’t puncture.) Having thought that, I spin my wheels round, and dust off the stones and muck, then ride off up the road for 10 minutes.  The bike feels lively, and my nerves start to dispel as I realise that my legs have a bit of power in them – maybe I’ll be ok – the gears aren’t meshing well though – should only need a tweak to bring them back in, not so good for the nerves though, and something I should have checked last night..

I get back to the car, have a little stretch, adjust the gears, worry about not having the right clothes on – I should be ok – normally
wear one less layer than if I was out training..  I’d be warmer once the racing started.  It was pretty cold, but dry.  I overhear people complaining about the cold – I start to feel stronger already.  I always seem to take strength from knowing other people are suffering – even before the start!  I’ve had some of my best races (and wins) in the rain, when I know half the field don’t really want to be there..

The gears work fine now.  I amble up to the gathering riders – 60 and a full field – and chat to a few old friends.  One of the reasons I
love racing, is meeting up with people i’ve been friends with for years.  These are people I see for 5 minutes here, 5 minutes there at races, and met through racing, suffering with, building allegiances with and being dropped with..

The conversations normally follow a similar pattern – “how has your winter been” ie, how are you going – to which the response is normally non committal and underplayed – you don’t want to let on if you’re going well, or going to suffer – for me it’s a private thing: form.  I’ll show my feelings on the road if I feel good.

SO – on to the race!
I started at the back – no point jostling for positions so early on in a race – there’s plenty of fight in riders for at least the first lap or so.  Breaks don’t normally stay away from the gun in local races round here – there are no massive hills to break up the field, so you don’t need to be too attentive to start with.   Riders are often nervous too – you might have novices starting near the front, eager to stay up when they’re not so fit.  So the risk of crashes is a little higher at the start until the bunch finds it’s trust, and people stop doing daft things like moving across suddenly, and taking someone out.  The respect and trust is better the higher level you ride at – you only have to watch the pros on TV to see how the bunch moves as one – people know what not to do, they look out for each other, they protect each other from obstacles.  They want the fight to be one of fitness and tactics, not who stays upright – that’s cyclo cross!

Having said that, it could also be my experience that makes me a little more relaxed – I find there are ways of riding a race more easily –
you get to the front when you need to – if you know there are crosswinds ahead, or a big hill where there’s likely to be a selection, and you might want to be in it.

The way to move around easily in a bunch, is to stay near the edges – generally speaking there are riders moving up at the outside of a
bunch – obvious really, as there’s more space – in the middle of the bunch, you always have a wheel in front of you!  So,
it’s easier to move up by following another rider.  The easiest way however, is to watch for the pattern and shape of the bunch, and move up when the riders at the front ease up – this causes the head of the bunch to swell, and riders further down the bunch brake, or move outwards – if you’re already moving up at this point (and don’t get blocked in), you can effectively keep pedalling with the same force,
and move from the back to the front without expending any additional energy – simples!  If you keep it going, hey presto you’re attacking (albeit not that quickly – maybe 4-5mph faster)  out of the saddle for 5 revs, and you’re suddenly going 10mph faster than everyone else..

I found the pace a little quick to start with, but didn’t panic – fresh legs making people feel a little better than their actual fitness..  A keen group of 6 riders had also tried to attack, and was stretching the bunch out – the chase was on at the front of the bunch though – this wasn’t going anywhere..

I thought i’d stay here at the back for the first lap – suss out the circuit – where a good place to attack would be – where I needed to be
in the wind (there was a bit of wind out there on some of the exposed parts of the course).

I spend the first 3 laps just moving around – had a little flurry off the front, up a hill – a couple of the stronger riders of the race
were mixing it up a bit, so I moved up into 4^th position – they had a couple of digs and the bunch was getting a bit stretched out – as they eased I countered, and got 50 metres quite quickly as no-one followed me – when the race has been going hard for a bit, a counter like that can get away, but attack too hard, and you find yourself on your own – not ideal with half the race left – ideally you want 5 or 6 riders to come with you as allies until nearer the finish, when you either try to look really tired, then whip them in the sprint, or try for a lone win – there’s nothing like finishing alone, knowing you’ve beaten people tactically and physically.
It’s not always the fittest that wins – in fact, more often than not, the fittest riders show themselves too early, everyone takes note, and every time they attack, people are all over them, and they can’t get away.  A bit negative, but hey, people want to contain riders who are head and shoulders above them.

So – 3 laps to go, and I still feel pretty good – i’m halfway up the bunch, on a straight bit of road, and someone touches a wheel in
the middle of the bunch, and the shouts and crunches of carbon make me take evasive action so as not to come off too..
The sounds – all too familiar – I have to take my foot out as I nearly come off, but manage to stop before hitting the kerb.  The next few miles, the bunch is in pieces around 20 riders who were unaffected, then groups of 3 or four – into a headwind, turning left into a crosswind – it’s hard to get back on, and people are panicking – sprinting across gaps – trying to get each other to close the
gaps to wheels to make it back to the safety of the bunch – this is it – great – flat out racing, the bunch is in tatters, a great opportunity to eliminate half the field, and get a good group working together – I get to the back of the bunch, and they’ve stopped racing – out of respect for their fallen adverseries? – or just unwilling to continue riding into the wind?  It’s a shame – it’s not part of an unwritten
rule that you can’t attack when there’s a crash – we’re not in the Tour de France – we have no Cancellara to tell us to slow down – get on with it!!

Most of the bunch regoup – a few retirees, but most are unscathed – just a silly touch of wheels..
We continue on racing.

There’s a hard hill up to a windmill – we’ve been up it a few times – it’s a bit long to sprint all the way up – i’ve noted it as a good
place to attack – it’s flat over the top too.
I’m at the back of the bunch again (if you don’t pay attention, this happens without you noticing it!).
There’s about a mile to go to the hill – I feel good, so move up the bunch seemingly effortlessly (well no increase in effort anyway), and get to 5^th wheel just in time for the start of the hill.  Without thinking, i’m attacking full gas – the legs aren’t weakening – I drive it right over the top onto the flat, then stir up an imaginary cup of tea with my finger (the signal for the riders behind to start working with me –
i’ve done the hard bit – now it’s your turn to continue my effort).  I haven’t looked back yet – one rider comes through, but no one follows him (maybe it’s just us 2?) – so I go again to close the gap.  Once closed I look behind
me – there are 4 of us.  We start working together immediately, and get a reasonable gap.
This is proper racing again – getting away from the bunch – I’ve faired pretty well over winter after all – the confidence is bounding back!!! – COME ON!!!

We work well together – and it feels comfortable – it’s often easier to be away in a group that in the ‘on/off’ of the bunch – a steadier effort – most people are similar in fitness in a breakaway, so if you ride sensibly, it can be a comfortable pace.
Too comfortable though, and you run the risk of getting caught – that’s what happened as it turned out – we lasted just under a lap – about 8 miles away on our own – but I wanted more..

After the bunch caught us, they eased up (pah – typical, chase us down, to keep it together..)  I didn’t really fancy being part of a bunch sprint – they can be a bit dangerous – people taking unnecessary risks in order to get £20? – I’ll leave it thanks –
i’d rather get in the top 3 from a break, than top 10 after risking my flimsy neck..

So, the bunch is rolling along in the headwind again – where the crash was 2 laps ago – I find myself attacking again – do or die – get the
rest of the energy out of my legs, and maybe pull off a shock early victory!  I get about 30 seconds easily – daft place to attack really though – into the wind? – people don’t attack into a headwind for obvious reasons – it’s hard!! And takes a lot of energy to keep
away.  A group is coming across to me – i’m chasing the lead motorbike – trying to pick up just a tiny bit of
slipstream – but he’s just that little bit too far ahead of me..  I’m committed – i’m at the limit of my breathing, so change up a gear – this helps a bit, but am I going any faster?? – dunno, but it’s a risky strategy, as it’ll use strength, rather than staying
efficient, and riding at 100rpm..  The group is getting closer to me, so I decide to wait for them and get a little
breather before they join me.

We don’t work effectively – we have around 30 seconds – should be enough with about 5 miles to go, but one guy keeps going to the front
too hard, making the guy behind him ride harder to keep up with him, then do his turn on the front – the other guy rides to the front, but doesn’t ease up when he gets there, meaning the guy behind him has to ride harder to get round him – this is not smooth through and off – it should be that you make an effort to get off the back onto the wheel who’s just passed you, then they go to the
front, ease up after they’ve ridden past the guy on the front, then you make another effort as you’re exposed to the wind until the guy behind you comes through and shelters you – it should be smooth, and offer shelter, with minimal changes in effort – keeps the pace steady, and fast – we were NOT doing it well….

The inevitable happened, the group kept breaking up, and we got caught about 2 miles before the finish.  My legs were tightening up on the hill up to the windmill – I’d galloped up that hill 2 laps earlier in the 53×16 – the last lap, I was in the 53×21 and struggling..

I sat on the back of the bunch safe in the slipstream, and watching for crashes – the other risky part of a race – people were on the
right hand side of the road, trying to stay at the front – cars coming towards them – this is fairly normal – the rewards aren’t really considered – £35 for 1^st place today, but the chance of winning a race – you can’t buy that, so people take risks to get a victory.

A couple of riders clipped away into the wind, and stay away to the finish – followed closely by the bunch, then me a few seconds later.  I felt really satisfied with my day’s racing – a few what if’s running through my head on the way home in the car – if that group would have worked together a bit better, we might have stayed away..

– Another race to replay over in my mind a few hundred times…  but most of all, a good indication of my form, giving me some confidence for the next one..

We have a new site – did you notice??!

There were a few things which we didn’t like – and true to following our attantion to detail, and not being content to make do, we’ve updated the site.

Please feel free to poke around, and give us some feedback!

We’ve added a couple of videos showing the difference between Bitex and Rotaz hubs, and we’ll be adding more in the future, including other product reviews, some more detailed ceramic coating videos and whatever people request!

Please let me know what you want to see!!

Thanks

Ben

Fuerte Bici Ltd

One of the exciting and frustrating things about cycling and bike racing is, you can be reasonably confident that you’ll feel good, but you can never be 100% until those first few pedal strokes, or the first few efforts – then its either an ‘ahhh…’ or an ‘argh!!’

Things which can reduce this uncertainty are what you eat, when you eat it, how much rest you’ve had, how frequently you normally ride, your emotional stress levels, the weather, how hard you’ve been training – and these are probably just a few of the factors.

The point I really wanted to make was that the good days are only good because you have bad days. If you felt fantastic every time you went out, you’d get so used to it, it would become normal, and lose it’s value. You have to keep moving to get the perspective.

That’s why bad days are good, cos your next day will probably be a lot better.