British Summer? I'm off to Annecy

Well, it's rubbish isn't it? It's our first full week of the summer holidays and we've spent a great deal of it stuck in the house. The forecast for August seems to be more of this unsettled weather so I'm just going to have to kit the entire family out with waterproof gear. We're off the Decathlon tomorrow to see what they've got.

In an attempt to get a bit of heat on our bodies, we have ditched our plans to go to Cornwall and I have just booked an apartment in Annecy, France. When cyclists ask questions about good holiday locations for cyclists who have non-cycling family in tow, Annecy always seems to be mentioned in the replies - lots of good climbing for the cyclists and loads of fun activities and beautiful French scenery and attractions for time spent off the bike. What finally swung the decision for me was Lance Armstrong's tweet about Annecy being one of the nicest places in France, if not the world. The helicopter shots from the time trial certainly did nothing to counter that view. So, we're heading out towards the end of the month. We're going to drive it, partly because I want to take bikes, partly because it's more economical for us to do it that way (oh yeh, and partly because I hate flying). I've sent off my Tesco Vouchers for the Eurotunnel tickets - now I just need to sort out an overnight stop as we don't want to do the drive in one go this time.

I've just had a look on the map and already starting to plot some routes for when we're there. This looks like a nice short one with a big climb right in the middle:
http://www.bikehike.co.uk/mapview.php?id=13932

And then there is always the time trial course from the TdF (this is my approximation of the course based on the map on www.letour.com):
www.bikehike.co.uk/mapview.php?id=13934

I need to get my Tour Climbs book out tonight and find out what else is in the area and then start plotting and uploading to my Garmin. Ah, just found this site, which seems an excellent place to start researching: http://www.cycling-challenge.com/top-5-cycling-climbs-lake-annecy/

Should I get bad news on Monday, the nature of the cycling will change but there will still be cycling. The time trial course is pretty flat so I can still do that - so I will have done 2 stages of the Tour de France this year! What I'm really looking forward to though, regardless of what the cardiologist says, is taking the children onto the cycle path which goes around the edge of the Lake. We've had a few outings recently on the Trans Penine Trail and it's good fun - the kids like to shout out warnings about the piles of poo as we approach them, "horse poo, it looks like a castle" etc. My 4 year old boy gets a little tired - he's still on stabilisers and a few miles is a long way for little legs. I saw a contraption at the Bike Radar bike weekend - http://www.bikecare.co.uk/trail_gator.html It seemed a really good idea for kids who want to ride alone at times but perhaps don't have the stamina to do the same distance as the bigger riders. The bar folds up and clips onto the adult bike when the child is riding solo. It will be toss up between that and a straight forward tag-a-long, depending on what we can fit in the car.

This weekend we'll be taking part in the Manchester Sky Ride - http://new.britishcycling.org.uk/skyride/manchester - sounds like it will be a really fun day for all of us. Lets hope that the forecast is right and that we're not going to need those waterproofs after all.

Oh Bollocks

Apologies for the crude title but that just about sums up my feeling at the moment. This evening, I went out for my first ride since finishing L'Etape. I was really looking forward to a good old blast around the country lanes and seeing what effect all that hard work on Ventoux, followed by a week of recovery, had had on my legs. I was expecting big things! It was 5pm so fairly busy traffic and I was motoring along, feeling fine, really enjoying being out in the sun and easily keeping up with the traffic until I looked down and saw that my HR had gone way over my max of 169 and was currently around the 192 mark. There were some temporary lights with a big generator so I thought perhaps it was a bit of interference. I pulled over and took my pulse but couldn't manage to find it. I re-wet the HR monitor strap, made sure it was sat right and set off. I wanted to try to recreate the HR so I went for it, blasting along in the traffic and sure enough, the HR went quickly through the 140s, 150s, 160s and into 170s. Bugger. I was a bit worried now so I stopped and returned home. Colin was surprised to see me back again after only 10 minutes and when I explained that I thought my heart had gone again, he offered me his Polar watch and strap to do another test. This time I couldn't replicate the high HR and saw nothing over 155.
I have noticed that since the epic ride of last week, I have been waking in the morning feeling exceptionally groggy - kind of like that feeling one gets after nodding off in the afternoon and then sleeping just a little too long and waking up badly. I put it down to post Etape recovery. Now, after seeing those HRs, I'm wondering if I've gone back into flutter.
I will call the hospital first thing in the morning to make a check up appointment. I'm also going to start taking the aspirin again, just in case. There's little point thinking the worst but if the worst has happened, I know what I'm doing this time around.

One week on

When I finally made it to the top of Ventoux and slowly rolled over the finish line, my immediate thought was that I never wanted to repeat the Ventoux experience. EVER. What would be the point of putting myself through all that suffering again once I'd already got it in the bag? And with other sportives, like the Marmotte or http://www.quebrantahuesos.com to conquer, why think about doing L'Etape du Tour again? I had finally managed it and I was really looking forward to the resumption of a bit of normality.

I returned home, still floating on clouds. The hotel in Avignon was positively luxurious in comparison to our previous night's accommodation. I enjoyed swapping Etape stories on the journey back. I devoured all the Etape success stories on the internet (and felt great sympathy for those who didn't quite make it - or in the case of Phips, didn't really have the chance to get going at all due to a seat collar failure). I looked up people's times to see how well they'd done - the top women had awesome times - around the 6 hour mark. James Cracknell was under 6 hours. Alain Prost, 6 hours something. Dermot Murnaghan got a really good time too - 7hrs 56mins. No offence to Dermot, but when I saw that he'd got such a super time, I started to look at my own time and think that it was a bit crap and wonder if I could have done better.

I've spent the last few days resting, relaxing and recovering - the cough is still lurking but loads better. I'm planning to go for ride tomorrow - the first time out on my bike since L'etape. The diet has definitely relaxed - I've allowed the odd glass of wine again and I've had a bit of chocolate. But from tomorrow, I'm definitely back on the regime. Watching the pro's fly up Ventoux (yes the cameras did make it look flat and the pros made it look far too easy) and seeing all those amazing times from our ride last week, well, it's only increased my desire to become fitter and faster and lighter. I've got events planned for the coming months (Wild Wales Challenge, Autumn Epic, Manchester 100, Exmoor Beast (perhaps)) and I'm already thinking about a winter of hard work and a better 2010.

As for L'Etape 2010, I know that come the end of October, I'm going to be eagerly watching the route announcement. If it looks a good one, I would love to enter again. (and do Marmotte etc etc etc) What can I say, I'm addicted!

Etape 2009 - Montelimar to Mont Ventoux.......finally

I had been a little concerned that the feeling of surreality, that I had been experiencing for the previous few days, would continue with me into the ride itself. I wondered if I would be able to concentrate on the task at hand or would be constantly in disbelief that I was actually doing it. I didn't need to worry - as soon as the alarms (3 of them) went off, I immediately sprang up out of bed, completely focused on getting ready and getting on the road. This was the moment I'd been waiting for and I was so glad that it had finally arrived. Not particularly nervous; I couldn't wait to get started.

Our accommodation was about 6 miles from the start but we decided to drive it anyway, as Colin had to get back to load up the car. It was still dark and as we drove down the road, we saw a growing number of cyclists riding down the road. The car parks along the road were full of cars being relieved of their cargo of bikes and riders. It was really exciting.

I got on my bike, handed over my cleat covers (I had no plans to walk!) and rode the final mile down to the start. I wasn't entirely sure where I was going but it was all very clearly marked and at 6am, I ended up about 20 metres behind the front of my pen.

I had a 500ml bottle of Torq drink and a gel to get through before the start so I started sipping away, listening to the different languages being spoken around me. I noticed a group of men with London A-Z jerseys on. I also spotted the SKY cyclists in the adjacent pen; the poor souls with numbers over 8000. The two blokes next to me were Brits so I said hello and started chatting about the day ahead of us. We very quickly discovered that we had been corresponding on Twitter for a few weeks prior to the event - Hello Paul Chilly! Pleasant conversation & a visit from Colin definitely helped to pass the time. At about 6.50am, there suddenly seemed to be a collective awareness that we should be getting ready for off. Perhaps there was an announcement that I had missed, but it seemed we instinctively moved as one animal mass, all getting up, clipping one foot in, moving into position for the off - quite amazing. The countdown passed at 7am to mild cheering and clapping and then we waited once again. It took about 20 minutes or so before we moved anywhere and over 25 minutes before we actually got over the start line.

I thought the opening kms were quite sensible - none of the haring off that I'd been expecting. The peleton was huge and took up the entire road and I was 100% focused on those around me. Before I travelled to France, Joe and I had talked about tactics for the day. Joe said that it was going to be a ride of two parts - Ventoux being part 2, all the rest of it, part 1. I planned to keep my HR in zone 1 and 2 and to only to upper zone 2 to low zone 3 if I was bridging a gap to a group that I would later take benefit from. As we got going on the first climb of the day, Cote de Citelle, I noticed that my HR had gone over 150 and I backed off. I was being passed mostly, overtaking only occasionally. I felt I could have gone quicker but I really wanted to make sure that I had enough in reserve for Ventoux.

Climbing around so many other riders was interesting - I just kept out of trouble at the right of the road but from the left, there were often loud French exclamations of annoyance as somebody or other had got in the way. Cresting the top of the col was amazing and was the first of many times that I cried during the day. The scenery was breathtaking - sure, the sunflower and lavender fields are very pretty and the neat rows of vines are a lovely view to behold, but what really gets to me are the mountains. They are so immensely huge. They stir something deep within me that fills me with awe and makes me want to cry. Cry I did - tears of joy were running down my face as I started to pick up speed on the first of many magnificent descents.
On this descent was also the first time I became aware of the excellent medical back up provided by the organisers - they were called into action many times during the day, particularly later on as I will explain. The group called a stop and we crawled past a guy who was lying on his side, being cared for by a paramedic - he didn't look too good. Time to regain FOCUS - I didn't want my ride to end that way.

I also didn't want my ride to end by being caught by the broom wagon - I had programmed the Garmin to bleep times at me when I got to various locations and as time went on, I increased my lead on it. I measured the distance between myself and it in terms of punctures allowed - so by Nyons, I was 40 minutes ahead and could probably manage 2 punctures and still just scrape ahead.

Col D'Ey was the next serious climb of the day and it was again an exercise in keeping HR down and not worrying about being passed. I was coughing a little but nothing too serious. I remember the descent of this col to be fairly twisty - just breathtaking again though. I was concious of not heating my rims too much and so I tried to keep off the brakes as much as possible. It was just amazing (I think I may use this word a lot in this post).

I was getting some serious rumblings in my stomach and I was concerned about that - it was a little painful to be honest and I thought I might have to get off and find a quiet bush! A quick wee I can just about handle but anything else would have been too damn much! It was also hot by this stage and I thought that perhaps my drink was mixed a little to strongly for the temperature. I wanted to drink lots of water but perhaps that meant I was getting more carbs than my body could deal with. I decided that at the first water stop, I would split my remaining bottle between the two and then fill with water - effectively diluting by half. The first stop was around the 76km mark in a town called Buis Les Baronnies. I was prepared for carnage and it was pretty much as I expected. I got off and fast walked with my bike to the tables of water but found it difficult to get close. Without any social niceties, I ordered the guy next to me to get me 4 bottles of water while I held his bike for him. I think he was English - he did it anyway. Apologies for bossing you around man :-)
With a quick "Thank You", I jogged along to a quieter spot and sorted the drinks - downing a gel (one per hour) and pouring the left over water over my head. I didn't bother with the food tables as I had everything with me - gels and bars.

I could be wrong on this but I think it was the next climb, the Col de Fontaube, that I got the first glimpse of Mont Ventoux, the Giant of Provence. Scary but exhilarating at the same time to know that I would be riding up it in only a few hours.

Another waterstop came in Sault - this time I avoided the first tables and got served really quickly. I was over an hour ahead of the Broom wagon by now. My feet were on fire but I was feeling really good. The climbs were going well, I was drinking lots, the descents were joyous, I was sucking wheels, using other riders ruthlessly to get further along whilst minimising my effort. I was feeling really strong.

The first significant test came with Col de Notre Dames Des Abeilles. It seemed longer and steeper than anything we'd had so far and I could feel waves of heat passing over me - full length zip, fully unzipped by now. I think I remember a few walkers on this col. A couple of times I crested what I thought was the summit and started a descent only to see a huge wall of tarmac rising up again in front of me. When I finally got to the true summit I was rewarded with the most amazing view across the Alps. It was simply stunning. I started crying again. At that moment in time, it was the best ever experience on a bike. The descent was wide & clear, very fast and oh so enjoyable. I was on a huge high - feeling fantastic and fresh. A bit more wheel sucking got me across the valley floor to Bedoin, where I had arranged to meet Colin. Here's a bit of film he took whilst waiting for me to get there:



Colin held my bike while I found a bush for a quick wee (they don't provide toilets on the course, Mum). Then he refilled my bottles while I had another gel. He asked how I was doing and I said I felt amazing. "You're going to do it, babe", he said and I said, "I know!". I had about four hours to climb Ventoux - piece of piss right?

Fully refuelled, I missed the stop at Bedoin and went straight through the town. The support was excellent along the whole course. They went nuts for ladies - bravo filles!! courage mademoiselle (yes, not madame)!! and if you gave them a smile or a little wave, they went even more crazy. I welled up a bit at that as well.

34x27 was recruited fairly early on into the climb - I knew I had 21km to go so I was just going to take it was easy as possible. It was so hot. I heard afterwards that the temperature was over 40 Celsius. 40! My water bottles were filled but if anyone was offering, I used the international sign language for "pour it on my head please". Sometimes the water itself was quite warm, other times it was wonderfully icy cold and the pourers appreciated the involuntary "ahhhhhhhhhhh" that escaped from my lips.

Graham, Team Lard, had warned me about the left turn at St Esteve and I had a bleep on the garmin to tell me that it was soon approaching. As I turned, I noticed the first of the walkers. The gradient for the next 9 km or so never seemed to drop below 9%. The little white markers at the side of the road showed many kms of avg 12% gradient. The heat was just incredible - the air so still, not even a whisper of breeze could be felt. As height was very slowly gained the walkers grew in numbers. It often seemed that there were more walkers than cyclists. It was hard going - whatever I write here will never come close to describing it. I can remember the sounds - the tapping of cleats on concrete, sirens of ambulances whizzing up and down the left of the road, and that tight pinging sound of metal under tremendous tension. Oh, and burping. The higher I got, the greater the level of devastation - walkers in increasing numbers, some slumped over their bikes, others slumped under trees, other unfortunates who were just being sick at the side of the road. There was one hell of a lot of suffering going on and the medics were kept very busy. I was resolute - I AM NOT GOING TO BLOODY WALK IT! I kept going at my snails pace. I promised myself that I could stop at 162km to change my water bottles around and have a breather. A little while later I stopped for a gel and I stopped a third time to eat a Clif bar in the shade.

I passed a few of the girls that I had noticed passing me earlier in the day. It was a bit like the tale of the Hare and the Tortoise at times - some riders would go flying by, only to stop a little further on, then same again, they'd fly along past me and stop. I just tried to keep to an even but very slow pace.

"2KM to Chalet Reynard". F***! 2KM to go???? By now I was getting desperate. I'd lost some time on the Broom Wagon and I had 2KM to do in about 40 mins. I wasn't entirely sure that I could even manage 2KM IN 40 MINS. I resorted to my song of desperation - Miley Cyrus, The Climb - and sang under my breath. Chalet Reynard, suddenly came into view, an Oasis. Unfortunately, the Oasis had run dry - no water left at the water stop. I stumbled towards some ladies who were sitting on the ground and they advised me to not wait for the hose but to go straight into the toilets. Walking was difficult. I was shaking and staggering about. I got the water and doused my head again and then made it back to my bike. I sat down and sobbed my heart out - big shoulder shaking sobs, tears running down my salt encrusted face. It was definitely the lowest point of my cycling life. A French guy patted me on the back. A medic asked if I was OK. A Brit called Mike asked me if I spoke English and if I wanted to carry on up with him. OK. Let's do it.

At only 6% and with a gentle breeze, it felt positively EASY! I even managed conversation with Mike. I saw one of the London A-Z gang and roared "COME ONNNNNN - you can do it!" at him as he slumped over his handle bars. The last few kms were hard again and I failed to keep up with Mike, but I was nearly there - only 3 more kms to go. I rolled by the Tom Simpson memorial and nodded my head. Then my eyes were back on the road. Not long to go now. With 500m remaining, there were still walkers and they showed no signs of getting back on. I just didn't get that at the time - surely if you've made it that far you'd want to cycle over the line. Thinking about it now, I guess they just didn't have anything left in the tank.

Finally, 9hrs 43 minutes after crossing the start line, I reached the summit of Mont Ventoux. I had finally managed it. Ventoux took me 3 hrs 16 mins! I was 55th in my age group. Here's me at the end - looking haggard and horrible but oh, oh, so happy.



Oh, and here is one of the beautiful beast that is Ventoux



Now I need to go and sleep :-)

ooooh ooooh, before I do go up to bed, just wanted to thank everyone who spotted me from the blog or Cycling Plus and said hello - those friendly voices en route were wonderfully uplifting and just added another level of enjoyment to the whole experience. Thank you again :-)

Sunday

I woke very early, grateful to be able to open the windows and door and to start putting the bikes together. We had planned to do a short ride down the road into Montelimar and have breakfast at the Boulangerie. The bike seemed to be running smoothly and I was feeling OK. I was still coughing up crap but the dizziness had gone and I was generally feeling so much better.

After our ride, Colin loaded his bike while I changed and then we drove 75 miles to Bedoin - I hadn't realised that it was so far away. By the time we arrived, it was mid morning, the sky was completely clear and the temperature was high twenties. The town was buzzing with excitement - a market was running through the town on the official route of the Etape and cyclists were everywhere. We weren't entirely sure of the right route out of Bedoin to Ventoux so Colin just followed the crowds and eventually he met up with the right road. I bought lots of water, found myself a shady spot and tried to relax with my book again. There were times when I would completely forget about etape and would just enjoy the surroundings and the warmth and it was just like a little holiday. Then the thought of the Etape would sneak up and tap me on the shoulder and the butterflies would start.


After an hour or so, I got a call from Colin. He'd had a rear wheel puncture! He managed to fix it and had continued on but had fallen off shortly afterwards. He was returning to Bedoin. When he arrived, he was a bit of a state - his arm was scratched, his elbow bruised, and one of his lenses was missing from his shades - although he hadn't realised it! (I wish I had taken that picture!) Colin found the mountain very difficult in the heat and didn't make it up too far. He confessed that he would not have been able to do it with 90 odd miles in his legs and was glad that he wasn't taking part. We drove up a short way, just so I could get an idea of what the gradient looked like - it didn't look too bad in the car!

Back to Montelimar for some carb loading and a better look at the stands at the start village. It was absolutely ROASTING! Car said 39C. After we'd had our pasta, we didn't hang about in the heat for too long and went back to the camp site to get the window & door open. By 6pm, I had the bike completely ready, clothes laid out, bags packed and a hotel booked for the following day. We went to bed around 10 ish. Either the smell had gone with a few hours of open windows and door, or we had acclimatised - it was much easier to relax. I got the ipod on and eventually drifted off........

Preamble

Friday
After dropping the children with my parents, we headed south from Cheshire, 250 miles to Ashford in Kent. When we drove down last year, we were so tired en route that we had to sleep in the car for a few hours in a dodgy car park. Wanting to avoid that this time around, I booked us into the Holiday Inn in Ashford, who were offering a Eurostar package - B&B, free parking & taxi to and from the Airport for £90. This worked really well for us - recommended!

Saturday morning and we were up around 6am. We squeezed ourselves, luggage and two enormous hard shell bike boxes into a taxi and away we went to the train station. I had been a little apprehensive about getting the bike boxes onto the train as the wording on the Eurostar website seemed to contradict what I had been told on the telephone: namely that bikes in bags were fine on the train. Although the lady did say, "I wish "they" wouldn't tell customers that", she allowed us through and we joined many others with equally large bags. At customs we were asked to open the boxes up - worst nightmare - until they noticed the cable ties which sealed them shut, then they let us off. The boxes attracted quite a bit of attention - they say, "BIKE BOX ALAN" on the side but many were asking what was in them :-)

As I walked down the train, I noticed James Cracknell tucking into breakfast, licking the lid of a yoghurt pot. With his blond curls and huge shoulders, he stands out from the crowd. I knew that he was doing the Etape so tapped him on his massive muscular arm and said a quick hello. He must have thought I was a right doughnut - he is very handsome and I got a bit flustered.
Travelling by train was a fantastically relaxing way to get to Avignon - we just sat back, read our books and watched the beautiful French countryside flying by.
All this time, I had a feeling of unreality. I couldn't quite believe that it was all happening; that after all those months of planning & training and waiting, I was finally travelling to actually have a crack at L'etape du tour.

Car hire was a disaster. We arrived in Avignon Central and needed to collect the car from Avignon TGV. No problem, I got the bus, leaving Colin to mind the bulky luggage. After a short trip and a long queue, I was told that I couldn't take the car without a credit card - I have a debit card. I offered to surrender my passport, to leave a cash deposit, called Colin so he could give his credit card details over the telephone, but it was no good. A lovely couple standing next to me overhead the exchange and very generously offered to take me back to the station to Colin. To the Greens of London - thank you for your kindness. Three hours later, we were finally in the car and on our way to Montelimar.

As we left Avignon, I caught my first sight of Ventoux. I wasn't expecting to see it so at first, I wasn't sure if it actually was Ventoux, but with it's white peak, the faint outline of the communication tower and it's complete domination over the landscape, we were both convinced that it could only be Ventoux. Profuse swearing gave way to nervous and silent contemplation of the task before me - just how the hell was I going to get up there?

The next issue came with our accommodation. I booked a studio on a campsite and fully expected it to be basic - bed and bathroom was all I hoped for. In fact, it had all that plus a kitchen and a surround shower. Unfortunately, the room must have been closed for weeks and the smell was terrible. As the owner showed us in, it hit us like a wall. We cracked the windows to try to freshen it up while we went to the start village to pick up our numbers & grab a bite to eat, but when we returned, it was just as bad. I lay in bed crying, my senses attacked with each breath. In the end, I generously applied my lavender night time balm directly to my nose and was able to block out the stink and eventually I nodded off.

Parting Thoughts...

We're travelling down tonight so this will be my final blog before the event. I just wanted to thank everyone for your comments and support during the two years that I've been blogging my Etape preparation. It really means a lot to know that people are reading & commenting.
I especially want to thank my family - particularly my Mum & Dad - who are taking care of my children while I'm away. I couldn't do it without you. And of course to the children, who put up with mum going off on her bike - I hope one day you will think it's quite cool that mum cycles over mountains.

I have ditched the bike ride this morning. I feel worse - dizzy now - and I'm going back to the nurse again. I'm going to pack up the bike and will aim for a gentle spin to the start village tomorrow evening. I think some warm dry air will do me good. If it were any other ride, I think I would probably give it a miss but I absolutely CAN NOT do that. I don't want this blog to become the story of my 3 years of preparation for Etape! I'm going to be in the starting pen on Monday and I'm going to give it my best shot. I know I've done enough to get round. My goal now is just to finish and to be healthy at the end of it. Previous sportive experience tells me that I can feel a bit rough at the start and that soon gets forgotten once I get going.

To all other Etapists, I wish you the best of luck. If you see me - 6461 - say hello :-)

Stuff I'm taking

Clothing
For race day: Assos shorts & Jersey; Rapha Gilet, defeet socks, shock absorber sports bra, headband, Giro Ionos Helment, Specialized mitts, Nike shades

Pre race days: 2 sets of kit, shorts, jerseys etc.
I'm also taking a cap, a lightweight jacket, arm warmers - just in case the forecast changes.

What I'm carrying
Saddle bag contains: 2 inner tubes, glueless patches, 2 CO2 cartridges & dispenser, Lezyne mini tool, tyre levers, few zip ties, rubber gloves (if I freeze on Ventoux), paracetamol, Torq energy powder canisters, chain link

Tribag contains: Powerbar Apple caffeinated Gels, Clif Peanut butter bars, mobile phone, credit card, few euros, laminate of profile

Jersey pocket contains: More gels and bars, Gilet, Torq energy powder canisters

On bike: Garmin 705, Lezyne mini pump

In Bike Box
Allen keys, spare tyre, spare CO2, spare inner tubes, pedal spanner, chain lube, cable ties, Energy drink, bottles, Joe Blow track pump, chamois cream

Other stuff
Passport, train tickets, campsite details, GARMIN 705 (DO NOT FORGET THIS), ipod, book, money, car hire details, sat nav, shoes, HR strap.....

It's a start, I'm sure that there is more.



I've spent the day sorting out various last minute jobs - including a 100 mile round trip to Rotherham to pick up one of the bike boxes. We have just managed to fit Colin's bike into the first but it wasn't an easy job and led to a bit of marital unrest. At one stage, I was almost going to France on my own! Colin's bike frame is very big but we eventually managed to squeeze it in and calm has descended once again. Getting one of those pedals off was one hell of a job, even with a big pedal spanner.

The steam inhalation and drugs are working - my head feels much clearer. I'm going to take the bike out for a 30 minute spin in the morning (as long as it's not raining). I just want to make sure that the gears are smooth now. Following that I'll do a very quick bike clean, take it apart and load into the case. I need to do a stack of ironing and once school is out, we'll make our way down to Ashford. The kids are staying here with grandparents - I'm really going to miss them.

I hope that now most of the admin is done, I'll be able to sleep soundly tonight.
Tomorrow will probably be my last post before the event - I'm going to tweet from Montelimar though.

Wasn't going to but here goes...

I said I was going to harden up and stop going on about my health, thinking that it was just a bout of taper madness. However, after a few days of coughing up green stuff and sounding like a a 100 a day gitane smoker, I went back to the nurse. The good news is that she listened to my chest - clear, took my temperature - normal, and thought it unlikely that I had an infection as I am not feeling too bad in myself. She thinks I have Post Nasal Drip. I have been into the chemist for some decongestant in a bid to get rid of whatever is lingering in my throat (I would definitely fail a drugs test). So, more rest & steam inhalations are the order of the day. I'm not 100%, it's true, but I feel well enough and I have 5 more days to get even more healthy.

I read this on the Bike Radar forum and I really like it:

And in the words of @johanbruyneel (12.32pm Jul 11 from TwitterBerry);

"Accept - then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it"

Tomorrow I pick up bike boxes and start making lists!

T - 7

Less than 7 days to go! In fact 7 days from now I'll probably be in Montelimar, pissed after 2 sips of wine.

After my fantastic ride yesterday, I had a poor night's sleep, with much tickly coughing and awoke with a croaky voice. But hey, I'm not discussing my health any more am I? I decided to take advantage of a child-free house and have a rest day with a bit of lounging around and book reading. Not talking for a good few hours certainly helped but the kids were arguing a lot this evening, which meant I had to step in as referee. Actually, I could save my voice if I went the whole hog and got a whistle, just for a few days anyway :-).........that was meant as a joke but I'm starting to like the idea.

I took my bike back to the shop today as my gear changing is not as smooth as I would like after a £150 service. It's just a bit hit and miss - sometimes changes are so smooth but other times I move the shifter and I get tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-CLUNK as the gear is eventually found. Other times, this can go on and I have to give her a bit of help by gently pushing the shifter over a little bit more. It's the right shifter and it can be changing up or down.

I have bought another new pump - I went for this one http://www.wiggle.co.uk/p/cycle/7/Lezyne_Road_Drive_Mini_Pump/5360040898/ . The other pump gave a fine pressure but it's so damn big and ugly on my frame. It doesn't fit snugly alongside a bottle cage so you have to either forego one of your bottle cages (NO) or use the supplied zip ties and attach the bracket to the top tube. This looks IMO a bit crap as it isn't close fitting and hangs down quite a bit. So, I now have a light pump ordered and will collect it on Thursday. In addition, I tried out co2 today. It was remarkably quick and easy to get a fantastic pressure. The co2 system that we already had does not allow you to control the inflation, so I've ordered a new one of those too http://www.wiggle.co.uk/p/cycle/7/Innovations_Air_Chuck_SL_Pump/5360018215/ (well and truly sponsoring myself today). So, I have a good pump, 2 co2, 2 tubes and some patches. I have a husband waiting half way round with Joe Blow plus spares should things go disastrously wrong. I feel comfortable about this now. I do have one question though - I read that it is possible to over inflate with co2 - how do you know when to stop. I went for 16g cartridges, which fill to 130psi on a 700x23c - I usually only inflate to 110psi. How do you use yours?

My husband is away so I've done some pre-etape beautification. The nails are filed right down in case of punctures and the fake tanning has started - only that moisturiser with a hint of tan in it stuff. Don't want pasty legs on my pictures :-)

Finally, I bought a night time calming balm thing - you supposed to go through a ritual of massaging into various pressure points and apparently, it sends you off into a wonderful sleep. It's worth a shot. I'll let you know tomorrow.

Going Soft Part II

I wrote this before the Cheshire Cat:

It seems that in the run up to any big event, I start to feel like I'm coming down with something. Right now, my throat is sore - it's not painful to swallow, just feels like I've rubbed the inside of my throat with a bit of sandpaper - and I'm a bit bunged up. This isn't the first time this has happened; just before the Exmoor Beast I felt like I had a cold as well and was inwardly debating whether I should take part or not. I think it is the body performing some kind of psychological trick on me; my body doesn't want to do the Cheshire Cat!! :-)

This weekend, I've been worrying about a tickly cough & similar throat soreness. When I went back through the diary and saw these comments, it was quite a relief to see that I'd felt this way before an event in the past, and gone on to do quite well. Before events, it seems I become hyper-aware of any slight niggle. Joe gave me some advice last night - take it easy but don't go soft. I immediately felt stronger hearing that. At this stage, there is a lot going on in the head.

I saw this on Chris Boardman's twitter - Going to check out Vonteaux stage with some friends a week on Monday. Am intending to start training soon!

He's talking about the Etape! I could take some relaxation lessons from him.

A weather forecasts for you:
http://www.meteogroup.co.uk/uk/home/weather/world_weather/city_weather/city/33X2655.html?cityID=33X2655&tx_mgcityweatherstatic_pi4[p]=1

A week out so not sure how accurate they can be but it's looking hot and sunny with light winds.

EDIT: My ride this morning was fantastically good - I was powering up the hills and felt great. I'm losing my voice but you don't need a voice to ride a bike. I'm not going to muse over the state of my health any longer. Time to MTFU!

How long to change a tyre?

The last couple of days has been about the bike. Yesterday, I collected it after the "big" service. I was really shocked to find that the cassette and chain had been replaced; the cassette and chain that were on were only 3 months (1600 miles) old! When I went into the shop, I did say that I wanted to make sure that the bike was spot on for the Etape and to do whatever needed to be done. I don't doubt that they needed to be replaced but I'm just shocked that my bike maintenance is so bad that they would have worn so quickly.
So, I've bought the Park Tools Big Blue Book, Vol II, and I'm going to start studying and doing these jobs for myself. I tried to book myself onto a course but it was full. However, my good friend Graham is a very skilled bike mechanic and I'm sure he'll give me some tips and I also have an offer of help from Dan from Manchester Wheelers. I really dislike that I don't have a clue about the mechanics of my bike - I'm not confident talking about the various parts of the bike because I'm not entirely sure that I've got it right. This will change!

Today, my new tyres arrived so I set myself the task of changing them over against the clock. The first tyre came off reasonably easily but getting it back on, particularly that last little bit that is so tightly stretched across the rim, was much harder. I used my new Topeak pump and found that the gauge was accurate, however, 160psi is totally effing ridiculous. Who on earth is pumping a tyre up to 160psi with one of those? I managed 90 - acceptable I think. It took me a couple of minutes, if that, to get up to 90. The rear wheel was much easier and took me about 15 minutes in total. Not too bad.
When I was a spectator last year, I took my track pump with me and helped a guy, who already had 3 punctures by 40 miles, to get a bit of life back into his tyres. I just hope that if the same fate should befall me, there is a track pump angel waiting at the side of the road for me.

I've stripped off the old pump and my rear light from my bike - about 200g - the same as the new pump. My watch weighs 100g so I'm not going to wear that. Colin has also offered to wait in Bedoin for me with bottles/clothes/Joe Blow/food etc so that I don't have to carry the lot over the entire course. This will be good, as long as we manage to see each other on the day. We'll organise a spot the day before but I will still have to carry all the essentials, just in case.

My training between now and the Etape is finalised:

Tomorrow - 1hr 20min spin
Sat - rest
Sun - 2hr hilly
Mon - 1hr 20min spin
Tue - rest
Wed - 1hr 20min 6x1min climbing effort
Thurs - <1hr spin
Fri - travel
Sat - assemble bike. 12km spin(to start village and back)
Sun - <30min spin bike check

Next I have to start making lists of things I need to take.
11 days and counting.

Feeling Good

On Sunday I did a quick ride up to the Brickworks and back - about 33 miles and 1700ft climbing. I was back in 2 hours 5 minutes - 20 minutes quicker than when I last rode it in June (ok, it was damp on that day). I felt strong on the ride, climbed steadily & kept up the speed on the flat. It was a lovely day and I really enjoyed being out on my bike again - much more like it. Come the afternoon, I felt a little tired so took myself off upstairs for a snooze.

Yesterday, just did a 25 minute spin around the block. I was tired in the evening and didn't really feel like it but knew that a bit of fresh air would do me good after spending the day indoors with my chicken poxy baby.

Today, with under 13 days to go now, I feel so much better. My penicillin course finished yesterday, I had a good night's sleep and woke feeling fresher than I have for a while. The ulcer is still there but it's bothering me less and less. I'm feeling much more confident that I will be fully healthy by a week on Monday.

I read a reader comment on Simon's blog that he and I are worrying too much. I'm sorry if I've given the impression that I am a bag of nerves or feeling negative about the Etape - actually, my main feeling is huge excitement and eagerness to be in France doing it. So far this year, I have ridden for 184 hours covering 2400 miles - about 80% of my riding for the whole of last year. I've climbed over 130,000ft - 4.5 times Everest - already stacks more altitude than last year as I have gone for miles of the hilly variety. I've lost 25lb!!!! (and none of my clothes fit.) I've completed 6 sportives, 3 of those were centuries, one of which I finished in 6hrs 40 mins. Each sportive has been a learning experience in preparation for July 20th - I've ridden in bunches, taken a turn on the front, been a wheelsucker (this more often - unashamed too - I'm definitely going to be taking as much benefit as I can on the Etape and will be looking for some fast huge Dutchmen (or anyone else) to tuck in behind!). I've ridden through all weathers - not always enjoying it (Polka Dot) - but knowing that it will all stand me in good stead for THE big ride.

Having said all of that (and feeling very positive about it too) I do have a few concerns, which I think is a natural state for a first time Etapist. I have never ridden a ride against the broom wagon. On this front, my main worry is that I get a puncture early on and get caught. There is nothing that can be done if this happens - I just have to change the tyre as quickly as I can and get back on it. It doesn't stop me being a little apprehensive about that possibility though. I guess all anyone wants is a clear run at it - no crashes, no mechanicals, just you against the course.

God it's hissing down here.

Not doing 3 Counties Challenge

My ride today went well - I felt pretty good actually and managed to maintain a fair speed for little exertion. Got home and it was a quick change and out to watch Ice Age 3 with the kids. On returning, I noticed my head was feeling a little fuzzy; like a very soft clamp was on it. I text Joe and said that rather than get up at the crack of dawn, drive 90 minutes up the M6 and then do a 4+ hour sportive, I would rather get a bit of extra sleep, and do a 2 hour local ride. I asked him if he thought it was sensible or just bottling out and he said it made perfect sense. So, that's what I'm doing - 2 hour ride, probably up brickworks and back.
I read some advice to cyclists (perhaps from another famous cyclist) to sit rather than stand and lie rather than sit: I'm trying to follow this advice wherever possible. The house is a disaster zone and I have a huge pile of ironing to do but I'm going to try to put it off until I feel I've recovered a bit more.

My riding routine for the coming week will be different to usual due to my youngest having chicken pox and being unable to attend nursery. I'm glad this is all happening with a couple of weeks to spare but it's not ideal is it?

Sore throat - ulcer!!

The antibiotics are having no effect on the throat. I can pinpoint the exact spot which is sore with the tip of my finger and I've been trying to have a closer look at it in the mirror. Unfortunately, it is in a really awkward spot, which is not easily visible, so I have been like a contortionist, opening my mouth, pulling my tongue out of the way with my fingers, trying to angle my head towards the bathroom mirror so that the light illuminates the spot. It didn't work. So, I got the torch and repeated the process - daughter was most interested in this whole performance. As I was starting to suspect, I have a massive ulcer. It's on a bit of my mouth/throat which is opening and shutting every time I eat/talk/call the kids. I looked through my training diary and see that after most sportives or big rides, I develop an ulcer. Usually, they heal much more quickly than this and I think it may have something to do with the position of the ulcer as it is constantly being aggravated. I did a quick search on the internet and found that ulcers may be related to deficiency of iron/zinc/b vitamins so I added a multivitamin to my morning concoctions.

I've been feeling very lethargic and woozy these last few days but it's hard to know how much of that is due to the heat and humidity. Last night was cooler and I think that I only woke up once during the night. I certainly feel much better today and really want to go for a ride. I just text Joe to tell him the latest and he has asked me to do a 1hr 20min ride and see how I recover during the day.

So, that's where I'm up to. If it was the Etape tomorrow, I would definitely be riding. As it is just a training event, I don't mind if I miss it. We're only 16 days away from the big one and it's more important that I'm fit and well for that.

I'm taking the kids to the cinema today and then coming back to watch the opening stage in Monaco. Can't wait :-)

Lay Off

My sore throat persists and the antibiotics don't seem to have had much of an effect yet. I had a chat with Joe this morning about it and he scheduled me in for a few days rest. I'm not allowed to touch my bike until Saturday. On Saturday, I will see how I feel and if I'm feeling recovered and well, I will do a 30 minute ride to stretch the legs. After that, I'm going to contact Joe and we'll come to a decision about the Three Counties Challenge.

The most important thing right now is to recover, get rid of this sore throat and tiredness and get back to full health ready for July 20th. I've done all the training and I've put in some stonking sportive rides over the last few months - that is what is going to see me through the Etape, not the rides I do in these last few weeks. I explained to Joe that there is always a doubt in my head that the illness is imagined and the symptoms are somehow generated by my subconcious. For example, when my heart condition was undiagnosed and I was experiencing breathlessness and shaking on climbs, it did occur to me that the problem was in my head - that not being able to breath was somehow a problem of the mind and I just didn't have the mental strength to get up the climb, either that or I was just unfit. Obviously, this is a load of bollocks! I had a heart condition - the condition was physical and was real. Just as my sore throat now is actually there.

So, rest and recovery is the order of the next few days. Wednesday is normally my big ride day so instead I'm going to hit the sofa and try to have a sleep.