I was sat reading a very boring text book today, grumbling that I hadn’t made it out on my bike this week, and thinking that I now wouldn’t manage it, but that I’d have liked a ride today but I couldn’t quite motivate myself but but but… then as a distraction I looked on Instagram. I saw one of my friends (a proper triathlon Ironman!) had posted about a cycle ride which included a cafe stop, with the hashtag #coffeeneuring2016
coffee what-ing?
A quick google told me “Now in its sixth year, the Chasing Mailboxes Coffeeneuring Challenge is a relaxed cycling endeavor for people everywhere. If you like riding a bike and enjoy drinking coffee or tea (or even hot chocolate or cider), consider this challenge.”
Sounded like just my kind of challenge, but I thought I’d better read on to make sure there were no catches. No compulsory 100 mile rides. No double espressos. No failing if you fall off. I read on, and no, it all seemed fine.
There are some rules of course, like in all good challenges, but they’re pretty straightforward. 7 rides, in 7 weeks, no more than 2 rides in one week, a round trip of at least 2 miles, a drink of some description, coffee or not, hot or cold. You can even take your own drink and drink (or brew it) outside as long as you go to 7 different places.
Totally inspired, I immediately leapt onto my lovely “happy shopper” bike and pedalled the two and a half miles to our local farm shop & cafe* and enjoyed a lovely mocha.
I’m going to enjoy this challenge, and it will definitely make me get out on my bike.
For more information have a look here:-coffeeneuring
So I finally did it. In one week I managed a swim, two runs AND a cycle ride. Never mind that, one of the runs was a race. I know – get me, eh?
The bike ride went surprisingly well. I enjoyed it, especially as it just *happened* to include one of my favourite cafes* as a stop to warm up.
Mmmm
Unfortunately it was also a chance for me to prove as true the old saying “pride comes before a fall” by also including a stationary “couldn’t unclip in time” tumble off the bike in front of an admiring audience.
The swimming lesson went well, the first (short) run was fine and I was feeling quite enthusiastic for the Marshfield Mudlark on the Sunday.
Finally got to wear my club vest again
First real race for nearly a year, so I was feeling nervous, and glad I would be meeting up with other runners from my running club – the race to be “last harrier home” was on! It was only as I stepped out of the car, I realised I’d left my trail shoes at home. Sigh. The recently-retired road running shoes I was wearing to drive in would have to suffice.
Fortunately it wasn’t very muddy at all this year, and there were zero cattle on the course (woo hoo!) it was just a lovely run through the countryside. Wearing a number. With a bunch of other people. In old road shoes.
Felt so good afterwards I was persuaded to enter another trail race. I’ve just noticed it’s described as “quad burning”. What have I done??!
I can never resist giving you an ear worm. However, it is true, the heat of the summer has gone, the evenings are drawing in and road races I’ve been ummimg and arrrrhing* over have been replaced by off road trail races.
Swimming lessons are continuing, but despite buying some overly natty cycling glasses, not much biking has gone on. I did bravely venture out once, forgot my glasses, forgot a bike lock, couldn’t find the cafe I was aiming for so turned around and found a different cafe instead.
Result!
I’ve made it to parkrun a couple of times, which has felt hard but satisfying (masochist!)
I’ve made it out for a five mile run (longest so far this year).
Last month I thought if I could get out for one swim, one bike ride and two runs every week, then I’d be back on track whilst saving my foot. (This time last year I was managing four runs a week. How long ago does that seem!) I haven’t actually managed this yet, but I live in hope.
Right – where’s the booking form for those races…
Apparently today, 19th September, is International “Talk like a Pirate Day” so I guess it’s appropriate to be “arrrrhing”. It’s also my Cornish Mother-in-law’s birthday. I don’t think these two facts are related.
Well if you’ve read my previous post, you’ll know I was caught up in dithering whilst my brain was trying to help by coming up with helpful suggestions.
So did I listen to my brain? Well, what do you think this is?
What IS it?!
If you said it’s a tadpole, then no points to you. Mini submarine is also no points but I admire how you think it would help me back onto my bike.
Maybe this will help some more :-
Ah! Of course, bike lights and cycle clips. Now I have an answer to the worry about taking so long to cycle the light is going, and to going on my snazzy bike in ordinary (non-lycra) clothing*
When my husband was home at the weekend I locked him in the garage until he showed me again how to change my bike’s inner tube (actually he was delighted to show me, bless him!) I also made him come out on what was for him a ridiculously short easy ride, and for me the longest ride in about a year. It actually was a lovely ride. Great route, quiet lanes, lovely café stop – I really enjoyed it.
So what’s next? Well the demons have been put to bed so I guess I need to get out on my own!
*contrary to popular belief I do own some clothing that isn’t sports related.
So I’ve managed a few runs lately, and my swimming lessons are going, well, swimmingly, so it only remained for me to get back on my bike to complete the triathlon triplet. Frustratingly I’ve been suffering from self-sabotaging thoughts which have prevented me from just getting on with it.
One of the things I’ve missed most about running is the thinking time. I’ve always found that whilst running my mind will chew over problems, worries, and aggravations and come up with calm, sane, and sensible solutions. Funnily enough, I found that working on the allotment has had the same wondrous results. I guess this is what all this mindfulness stuff is about – not just colouring books.
All that digging
Last week I arrived at my allotment with my brain full of ridiculous “reasons” why I couldn’t ride my bike, and spent the next few hours digging, weeding, planting and watering. As if by magic, later on that day my brain presented me with a full colour PowerPoint presentation (complete with whizzy slide transitions and sound effects) detailing exactly what I needed to do. Here are the highlights, without the eye bleeding effects:-
What if I can’t remember how to use my cleats and just fall off again? Well, a bit of practice will remind me how to get my feet out, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen off. (Twenty first more like!) What if I get a puncture? How about I just ask my lovely husband to show me again how to change an inner tube. Will I look silly in my lycra gear for just a short test ride?Just buy some bargain cycle clips and then just nip out in jeans. What if I’m out too late and it starts to get dark? Back to the bargain shop for some cheap and cheerful lights. What if … what if … what if …. Oh for Heavens sake Lucy – this mindfulness thing is all well and good, but just get back on your bike!
If your brain could make you a PowerPoint presentation, what would it say to you? What would it say to me?!
Last weekend I went to our cycling club’s annual dinner dance. It’s not nearly as stuffy as it sounds, and funnily enough our table turned out to be about 50% runners and triathletes so I had plenty of people to talk running to.
Obviously cycling was mentioned once or twice, and inspired by this, and still not thinking about running, I got my heavy Raleigh bike* out on Tuesday and went for a little ride. It was a lovely day, sunny but a little breezy, and I made a short trip to the next village’s shop. I pedalled, I smiled, I didn’t fall off (always a bonus). I made it home, I put my bike away and my foot started hurting. I grumbled and tried to ignore it, and started limping. Pah! So with my realistic head on, that’s running AND cycling out so I guess I’ll have to look at swimming next.
When I swim, the teenaged life guards nervously watch me, worried they’ll have to get off their plastic chair, leap into the pool and save me. I don’t swim well. I’m of the “head up – hair dry- breast stroke” school of swimming (think downing insect and you’ll get the picture). A lovely friend of mine told me about the adult swimming lessons at our local pool, and swears she spent her first session being persuaded to put her face in the water. This is good news, as six months later she took part in a one mile long charity sea swim. Pretty impressive stuff, and whilst I’m not currently planning such a feat, I’d love to be able to swim with my face slightly closer to the water.
The session is at 9am tomorrow, so yet again- wish me luck!*
* Specifically, I need luck not to chicken out, not to drown if I actually make it there, and that my foot holds up. Thank you.
* otherwise known as my ‘happy shopper’ bike because it has a basket on the front
Sunday was a beautiful day – a cold start which turned into blue skies and brilliant sunshine. A great day to be out and about, but probably not the best day for running a half marathon, nor for marshaling said race.
The Chippenham Half Marathon is a fantastic race, and I say that as someone who has run it twice previously. It has an interesting route that goes from the town out into the countryside on little lanes and then back into the town, friendly locals, amazing marshals, a great medal and t-shirt, and it’s not expensive to enter. A couple of years ago, the race was voted in the top 5 half marathons in the country by readers of Runner’s World. With all this in mind, I felt under just a tiny bit of pressure to be an amazing marshal. As the race is organised by my running club, Chippenham Harriers, we were all press ganged into helping.
Those of us with bikes were given a section near the start, and then a section near the end (with a speedy short cut bike transfer between the two). I was at just over 1 mile, and then at about 12.5 miles which meant I saw everyone at the start when they were still fresh (well -most of them), and then nearly at the top of a sneaky hill just before a final downhill stagger to the finish.
Having frozen on the ride into town, I then baked in sunshine for nearly 3 hours (thank heavens I fight to slap sun cream on). Honestly, the way the runners were complaining you’d think they had it hard. They just didn’t think of me standing there, with sore hands from constant clapping and little voice left from shouting encouragement. They probably never consisted the danger I was putting myself in by lying so blatantly on a Sunday – I was expecting a thunderbolt from above each time I shouted “looking fresh!” at a staggering runner. I was also a little worried a really hacked off runner might just come over and punch me. Well, when you’re suffering, being told how fabulous you look might just be the final straw.
I did have one large, sweaty runner ask me to hold him up whilst he stretched out his hip. That was surprising and rather unpleasant, but apparently all in a day’s work for a marshal.
Despite working so hard, I had a fabulous day. I really was tired as I cycled home, but maybe not quite as worn out as the runners.
This weekend, the lovely Mr B&T has been up in the Lake District with his bike, taking part in the Fred Whitton Challenge again. For those who know the Lake District you will appreciate how hilly this is. Also what the weather is likely to have been like! For thse who don’t know, it’s in the North. Nuff said. This is an epic 112 mile ride, taking in some epic hills, and has been rightly called the toughest Sportive in the UK.
The Route
I’m waiting for him to return home, I only know he rode well yesterday and was pleased with his time. He was too tired to tell me anymore. However, he rode this event last year for the first time, and did a fabulous write up of it. I’m now cheekily pinching it as a blog post to show that (a) apparently there is more to life than running, and (b) I’m incredibly proud of him and want to share how hard he works at his cycling and his training for events (even if I do wish he would be at home some weekends to tackle the long list of jobs I have waiting for him..!)
So, over to Mr B&T and wind back the calendar to this time last year…
Dear Friends and Family,
So three days after completing the Fred Whitton Challenge I am finally
coming back down to earth, not with a bump, but with the glowing
satisfaction of completing the toughest physical challenge of my life
and knowing that, thanks to your generosity, I have raised over £500
toward Macmillan Cancer Support.
I have thanked a few of you already but wanted to say to everyone how
grateful I am for your support. It is amazing what you can do with some
determination and the added support of those around you. Here is a photo
of me climbing the 30% slope to the summit of Hardknott
Pass. Never did I think I could do that. I had fully expected to be
walking up that road, so thank you for your support which motivated me
to give it everything. I'm the one in the Chippenham Wheelers jersey,
not the chap in red.
My day started at 4.30am, waking up in my Ambleside guest house, excited
about what the day would bring but so apprehensive about the weather and
the ride that I could barely manage to eat my porridge. After a short
drive up to Grasmere, lining up at the start with hundreds of other
nervous cyclists, my 112 mile ride finally got underway at 6.30am. It
rained all morning and the wind blew constantly all day. The first climb
up Kirkstone Pass was a hard slog, but it helped get the blood pumping
and I certainly didn't feel cold by the time I reached the assembled
crowd of supporters up at the top by the Kirkstone Inn ringing their cow
bells and cheering us along. I went over the top and started the
first slippery descent of the day, taking great care to control my speed
in the tricky conditions. I was soon flying along the valley base and
then onto the next climb at Matterdale End.
Kirkstone Pass Inn
The rest of the day was pretty much like that all the way......... hard,
long climbs and phenomenal supporters shouting encouragement. The climb
to Honister Pass was the first really serious climb of the day, with 25%
gradients, followed by the first really steep descent. Then onto
Buttermere Youth Hostel for a long and much needed re-fuelling stop for
cheese and jam sandwiches (a Cumbrian delicacy I believe), flapjack and
the obligatory banana. Another 30 odd miles later up and down Newlands
Pass, Whinlatter Pass, Cold Fell and a few other lesser hills and then
another long stop at Calder Bridge Village Hall feed station for a hot
cup of tea and more cheese and jam sandwiches. There was only one
subject that everyone was talking about and that was the final two big
climbs of the day - Hardknott and Wrynose.
I arrived at Hardknott determined to give it a go. The first section
kicks up to 30% immediately on a really narrow road with tight bends.
Halfway up and it was just too congested with other riders and pushers
so I put a foot down and pushed the next couple of bends. I got back
onto the bike when the gradient eased a little and gave it another go,
only to be almost wiped out by another rider losing his chain in front
of me. Luckily we both unclipped our shoes quickly enough to stay
upright. After a second re-mount I then rode all the way to the upper
steep section, and astounded myself by pulling all the way through, with
marshals and supporters shouting encouragement all the way. A quick stop
for a breather, a push-off from a marshal to get me going and I arrived
at the summit.
Then the truly terrifying descent. 25-30% downhill. Brakes on all the
way. Push the weight to the back. Slowest possible speed. I reached the
bottom, over the bridge passed a guy with medics tending to a badly
gashed leg and then straight up to Wrynose and over the top, which
seemed easy by comparison to HK. At this point my ride halted as a
marshal cautioned me to stop part-way down the descent due to an earlier
accident. A rider had fallen, was unconscious and being recovered by the
air ambulance. I waited on the hill with 2-300 other riders looking down
on the helicopter and mountain rescue teams doing their work. The mood
was sombre, everyone thinking the worst. Eventually the rotors powered
up and it lifted off rushing its patient to Preston hospital.
Top of Wrynose
We were all then released to continue our last 10 miles back to
Grasmere. Everyone's mood gradually lifted and thoughts turned towards
finishing the last 10 miles back to Grasmere. Somehow the legs
discovered a new lease of life and I powered through the last miles.
The rain made a final appearance for the day, but seemed a minor
inconvenience after what had preceded.
Finally I arrived in Grasmere, turned the corner into the Showfield to
be greeted by a huge cheer form the supporters, 3-4 deep behind the
barriers waiting to greet family and friends. "Go on Chippenham" someone
shouted, as I crossed the line.
My overall time was 9 hours 31m, although my actually moving time was
8h32m. I hadn't set a target but was very happy just to have completed
the ride, safely, which had been my objective for the day. The fastest
riders (two chaps from the Lakes Road Club) finished in an astonishing 6
hours 1 minute. The slowest riders finished in over 12 hours.
There was much celebration in the finish arena, some much needed hot
food and the best ever pint of beer enjoyed in the company of so many
fellow cyclists. Every person I spoke to said it was the hardest ride
they had every done, including seasoned sportivistes, who had said it
was harder than rides they had done in the Alps.
The good news to eventually filter through after the event is that all
the accident casualties are back at home, nursing injuries but
thankfully okay.
I'm now back at home and getting back to normal, after the greatest
cycle event I have ever ridden. Wondering what on earth I can do next to
top that........?! I'm having a bit of rest from sportives for a while
now. Well, for a few weeks at least.
Thank you once again for supporting Macmillan on my behalf,
Before you get too impressed, this was a cycle ride and not a run. However it’s still pretty impressive for me, because I’ve only ever cycled further than this once, back in June last year (see my blog post about the Wrong Way Round And Round Ride) .
An Audax ride is sort of like orienteering on bikes, as you’re given direction to follow, and check points you have to get to, to prove you’ve ridden the route. Route Instructions. I just followed Mr B&T
Although this was a long ride for me, it is the first (and shortest) of the series our cycling club put on. The only control point is in a village hall where tea and cake is provided. Tea stop. That's me, looking like I've not been cycling
Today I learnt:-
– it’s flipping hard cycling into a head wind;
– winter cycling involves many more layers of clothing than winter running;
– sporting events that involve a stop for tea and cake get a thumbs up from me
– and that cyclists are a nice bunch of people.
I was also reminded of a couple of things that I already know, but sometimes forget. Mainly that running, and especially marathon training, has taught me that even if I’m cold and tired I have the strength and stamina (and stubbornness?!) to carry on. Also that I’m married to a lovely chap, who cycled the whole way with me at my slow pace instead of zooming off with his mates. He also magically produced a couple of my favourite tea bags when we reached the tea stop. Thank you!
