Activity weekend
A and I spent a good portion of the bank holiday weekend camping with R&N, M&B and RP. I also entered a mountain bike race.
25K across the Brecon Beacons with 1000 other cyclists. I was loving it initially riding past people on much swankier bikes than mine climbing up some severe hills. I was riding with B and I kept stopping to wait for her to catch up. Unfortunately at the top of a really massive hill I stopped and waited.......and waited.........no sign of her. In fact, unbeknowst to me, she had kept going past me and I had missed her. I waited for at least ten minutes and thought she must have broken down. The chain had already come off her bike earlier. So I cycled back down the hill. I received a large number of comments along the lines of "wrong way mate" and "er it's that way I think". I got to the bottom where I had last seen her and she wasn't there. I thought she must have dropped out and gone back to base. So I turned round and started climbing the massive hill again but my legs were cold and I was exhausted I tried and tried to keep going but in the end I had to get off and push and I vomited. Just after that point is when the official photographer appears and starts snapping away. I'm doing my best to smile and not to take it seriously but after 30 seconds of click click click as I came towards him I was sorely tempted to perform an improvised colonoscopy with his equipment.
Eventually I got back to the top of the hill and continued up a track which had turned into a quagmire. I was slipping and sliding all over the place and my rear wheel was spinning and dropping into a different rut from the one my front wheel was in. Total nightmare. Needless to say I fell off. I was going downhill quite quickly and my brakes weren't working. My bike stopped when it went into a deep rut and I didn't. I have a cracking bruise on my shin. I lay on the sodden ground rolling around in agony and the last few competitors who were still behind me (a family with three small children) all stopped to see if I was ok. I was cold, embarrassed and still nauseous, I really felt like quitting but there was nowhere to quit. So I soldiered on and again was making progress and was quite happy. I sipped from my borrowed camel-back and chewed an energy bar.
I got to a rest station and felt ok so kept going however I went the wrong way and ended up on the 50k course. I must have continued along it for about a kilometer. A nice lady noticed that I didn't look like a 50k rider and sent me on an escape run down to the finish. My cycle computer said I had done 24 miles which converts to 38K. When I got back to the finish I found the truth about B and the guy on the PA system had a good laugh at my bike which still had its luggage rack on from my daily commutes. But it was actually in spite of everything good fun and I will do it again.
A photo I obtained from the official website shows me seconds before I stacked it at great speed when I went down a short section of downhill. The observant amongst you will note the mud caked onto my brakes. I discovered that this stops them working very effectively. When they are all caked up like that, they slow you down all the time, except for when you want them to. That is why, apparently, good mountain bikes have disc brakes.
Luckily for me the post vomit pictures have not made it onto the website.
A was a bit annoyed that she hadn't been entered into the race. I will make sure she is next time. However I'm pretty sure she isn't enough of a sadomasachist to enjoy it but we will see.
After the race was over we barbequed and the next day we set off to visit my Mum and Dad. It was good to get some home comforts to ease my aches and pains.
25K across the Brecon Beacons with 1000 other cyclists. I was loving it initially riding past people on much swankier bikes than mine climbing up some severe hills. I was riding with B and I kept stopping to wait for her to catch up. Unfortunately at the top of a really massive hill I stopped and waited.......and waited.........no sign of her. In fact, unbeknowst to me, she had kept going past me and I had missed her. I waited for at least ten minutes and thought she must have broken down. The chain had already come off her bike earlier. So I cycled back down the hill. I received a large number of comments along the lines of "wrong way mate" and "er it's that way I think". I got to the bottom where I had last seen her and she wasn't there. I thought she must have dropped out and gone back to base. So I turned round and started climbing the massive hill again but my legs were cold and I was exhausted I tried and tried to keep going but in the end I had to get off and push and I vomited. Just after that point is when the official photographer appears and starts snapping away. I'm doing my best to smile and not to take it seriously but after 30 seconds of click click click as I came towards him I was sorely tempted to perform an improvised colonoscopy with his equipment.
Eventually I got back to the top of the hill and continued up a track which had turned into a quagmire. I was slipping and sliding all over the place and my rear wheel was spinning and dropping into a different rut from the one my front wheel was in. Total nightmare. Needless to say I fell off. I was going downhill quite quickly and my brakes weren't working. My bike stopped when it went into a deep rut and I didn't. I have a cracking bruise on my shin. I lay on the sodden ground rolling around in agony and the last few competitors who were still behind me (a family with three small children) all stopped to see if I was ok. I was cold, embarrassed and still nauseous, I really felt like quitting but there was nowhere to quit. So I soldiered on and again was making progress and was quite happy. I sipped from my borrowed camel-back and chewed an energy bar.
I got to a rest station and felt ok so kept going however I went the wrong way and ended up on the 50k course. I must have continued along it for about a kilometer. A nice lady noticed that I didn't look like a 50k rider and sent me on an escape run down to the finish. My cycle computer said I had done 24 miles which converts to 38K. When I got back to the finish I found the truth about B and the guy on the PA system had a good laugh at my bike which still had its luggage rack on from my daily commutes. But it was actually in spite of everything good fun and I will do it again.
A photo I obtained from the official website shows me seconds before I stacked it at great speed when I went down a short section of downhill. The observant amongst you will note the mud caked onto my brakes. I discovered that this stops them working very effectively. When they are all caked up like that, they slow you down all the time, except for when you want them to. That is why, apparently, good mountain bikes have disc brakes.Luckily for me the post vomit pictures have not made it onto the website.
A was a bit annoyed that she hadn't been entered into the race. I will make sure she is next time. However I'm pretty sure she isn't enough of a sadomasachist to enjoy it but we will see.
After the race was over we barbequed and the next day we set off to visit my Mum and Dad. It was good to get some home comforts to ease my aches and pains.
posted by Phil at 2:54 pm
1 Comments:
The photo really shows off the spectacular setting. Brilliant effort and excellent for your fitness. Now, like M&B can we also take up yoga?
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