Looking back, I've been super-chill about updating the blog and it's because, simply, writing 'went for a bike ride' every week may have lost the audience. That said, I now have some news.
During May I was able to increase my long ride on a Friday to a consistent 50 miles, taking one week in every four to do two hours on the indoor bike as a bit of a rest/reward/watching TV while the children were out. During June I snuck in a 60 miler and, every time I went out on the bike, I felt ready to do a 100 miler. I was beyond knackered on my return admittedly, yet I would happily have completed Ride London at almost any point and dreamed of the London Classics medal more and more as the date got closer.
I supplemented my long rides with an hour-long indoor bike session on Mondays and Wednesdays as I didn't want to spend all week cycling and it gave me a chance to spend some time with my children, even if it was just watching the TV. My Tuesday runs continued and that was essentially my training plan - no intervals, no speedwork, just hop on and rotate the legs.
Ride London had been moved to August 4th rather than the last weekend in July which made me particularly antsy, although the weather was glorious on RL day as opposed to windy and showery the week before so I wasn't complaining too loudly. Once again I was paranoid about getting up on time, punctured tyres and spending another event sat in the pub, watching Formula One while everyone else completed the ride around me. Anxiety is not my friend, though it visits any time I have to do something mildly athletic.
The rear calipers were leaking on the car three weeks before we made our way to London, meaning further expense as I had to get them repaired. This, along with the almost shredded tyre that was replaced at the same time, played on my mind for the whole journey up along with my paranoia that someone would steal the bike at a service station. Upon arriving at Beckton Premier Inn I wheeled the new (yet recently serviced) Giant Contend into my hotel room and re-dressed it with all of the bags I'd removed before the trip, again envisaging them blowing onto the motorway without me knowing. I filled them full of Cadburys Brunch Bars, my fuel from RL 2018, along with peanuts and sweets to help me out when I needed salt and sugar. Five Brunch bars is my limit, it seems. After the fifth I had to wipe my dry mouth and it looked like I'd used my long sleeved T-shirt as toilet roll. Still, supplements for later I thought.
My intention was to spend as little time as possible at the expo in the ExCel centre in London, though I was tricked into a massage by my ever-caring wife. I thought I'd slept funny the night before driving up as both of the ligaments in my neck were tight and painful, not helped by a six hour car journey. The massage helped the right side, though the left was still very sore on the Sunday morning. This didn't affect my cycling fortunately, yet I was ordered to have another massage by the masseuse as the knots in my back muscles could be used to anchor aircraft carriers. This is on my to-do list.
I left at 6am on the day, my pen opening at 7am and my start time being 8.08am. I was appreciative of the extra hour, knowing the cut off is 5.30pm since the elite riders have a bit of a race in the evening. Last year a rider spoke to me extensively about his previous rides, including an Iron Man event, yet this year I was pleased to have no conversation and to just listen to those around me admitting their own trepidation and concerns.
It is pleasing to report that in two years of riding I have never had a puncture yet I have practiced changing them and even considered marathon tyres, changing my mind after trying to fit them! I figured an easy change tyre with four punctures is better than spending a week changing marathon tyres and the new tyres on the Giant meant I just had to watch where I was riding to avoid them altogether. RL 2018 saw punctures for other riders from 15 miles in, RL 2019 had a retirement from punctures at mile one so it's no wonder cyclists fear the metal on the ground so much. One tyre went with an almighty bang and was followed by a rider suggesting that they couldn't fix a puncture, something I would consider must-have knowledge for cyclists.
The course was pretty much as I remembered it, nice and flat until mile 45 with a small hill, then Leith Hill, then Box Hill. I'd been warned about Wimbledon Hill at mile 90 since so many forget it and have to ride unprepared, although it's no Sithney Common Hill (Or even Buckett's Hill, for that matter) so wasn't too much of an issue. I was feeling spent towards the top of Leith Hill, getting off to push as close to the top as I could make it. At mile 58 I felt defeated as I'd ridden up with no problems the year before, yet I discovered that I hadn't changed down on my front set and had ridden 75% of Leith Hill in mid-gear. I made a mental note to change right down for Box Hill and started to enjoy myself from mile 70.
The last 20 miles were my best yet on a bike, flying through the streets of London past mile markers that seemed everywhere. There had been numerous stops along the way where cyclists were required to push bikes and walk, adding at least an hour to mine and others times. I consider myself one of the lucky ones as Leith and Box Hill were closed early due to crashes and a fallen tree yet I'd been able to scale them both and still make it back to the finish line in time. I felt a lot of sympathy for a poor woman who had fallen off at mile 96 as she was holding her shoulder and clearly in a lot of pain. I hoped that she would make it to the end but, with an hour to go and a bad injury, I considered that she was probably resigned to a worse fate than mine from RL 2018.
After crossing the finishing line we were advised that a number of medals had not been delivered and that would mean waiting for them in the post. Many riders were clearly disappointed, particularly those in their first event, yet I was quite happy since I knew that my London Classics medal was waiting for me a little further on. I was trying to contain my excitement, eventually deciding to bound past the other riders as safely as I could to grab my prize for a year of running, a year of swimming and two years of cycling. It is possible to get another Classics medal if I did all three events again, though I'm quite happy just to have the one in my collection. As it stands, there are around 1,465 members of the Hall of Fame, meaning I'm likely to be one of the first 1,700 recipients of a medal that is better suited to actual athletes rather than full-time pasty enthusiasts.
Although I had my own place I chose to ride to raise funds for JDRF, a charity close to my heart, and they provided a picnic in the park after the ride. This is a great tip - fundraising = sandwiches. I struggled to eat much after the ride since my stomach had shrunk to a minuscule size but the offer was more than welcome.
After returning to the hotel my insides woke up and demanded to be fed. My long-suffering and very beautiful wife drove in London for the first time to get me a small chicken snack and a pitcher of lager from the bar, both of which were well received following such a journey. I was able to take my medal off, something I'd been unable to do following my initial London Marathon run as it felt so important to me, yet I still had to keep an eye on it just in case it fell between the furniture or was stolen by bandits in the middle of the night. I doubt it would be worth anything on the medal black market but to me it's hours of training in every kind of weather and includes recovering from the heartbreak of not being able to finish in 2018.
I have now returned to running and have a place in the New York marathon this year, after which I hope to do the Berlin marathon. In school I used to skip P.E. whenever possible and could barely run a mile, now I have the option to do half of the World Marathon Majors and a big, metal disc that says I've finished the greatest events London has to offer.
