Peak Raid Edale

 Score events are a huge amount of fun. You're out for a specific amount of time, navigating around a load of points on a map, and whoever you see on the hill might be going faster or slower than you, might be going to a totally different point on the map and might well have started an hour before, or after you. Trying to gauge your effort off someone else is totally pointless- it's a pure personal navigational timetrial. I love it. 

Ian and Andy having a look at the map of the area involved.

That being said, today wasn't a great day. For the last couple of weeks I've been struggling with my right knee. It isn't *bad*, but then, it certainly isn't right. A lot of clicking, some pseudo-locking and just not feeling like it want's to do what I want it to do. I suspect it might be either a hamstring or adductor thing that means the quad is massively overcompensating and causing all kinds of exciting kneecap issues- or something else. 

I started early and on getting the map decided that heading North onto Kinder would be a good way to start. The initial route choice is often the most crucial and has a lot of bearing on how the rest of the race/route goes. Quite often, it doesn't *really* matter. I think it did today, and today, I chose wrong. 

Red or Blue? That's the question. I went Anti clock. Oops

 Off up onto Kinder, past the first checkpoint and up the beginning of the Edale Skyline route to the top of Ringing Roger for the next checkpoint. From here it was fairly obvious in terms of heading West, into the wind and along the southern edge of Kinder. It wasn't great underfoot, but that was to be expected. The plan was to have the more runnable section along Lords Seat at the end when I was a bit more fatigued. 

Along the edge and a short diversion down to a crag to pick up CP7, and a short stop to decide is it worth doing a massive Down and Up to number 13- or around the edge and then down to it. Feeling like my legs had already done more than their fair share of climbing, and not really trusting my right knee to a fast offroad downhill, the round the top was chosen, despite it being a whole lot less exciting... it would definitely be easier though. 

To go round? (blue)- or down/up? (red)

So back up to the edge and around the longer way. I looked at the description of CP13... "Re-entrant". Ah man. I HATE re-entrants. Still. Along the top and then a dive down a remarkably steep section to get to the Checkpoint. A quick decision... straight back up and over to 9, or a slight contour and up before going over. I *must* have been tiring by now- not a good sign, as I forwent the standard blast up the side in favour of a bit more of a coutouring ascent before dropping over to 9. 

It was about this time that I was looking at the options on the south side of the map- and realising that it was *much* more runnable over there, and that you could get a LOAD of points quite easily and still drop back and get another 50 points on the way home, which was not really an option on the trajectory I was taking. Hmmm. It seems that I'm on a hiding to nothing. Ah well- with the knee not really feeling great- just a bit stiff- not actually hurting, I looked at the options and dropped into the down and up to CP12. 

Did Blue... should have done red? Didn't even see it at the time!

Looking at it later, I really should have taken the option to go south and pick up CP17, it would probably have made more sense- but as I say, fatigue was starting to get me here. Was it due to not enough practice? Not enough fuel? Over estimation of fitness? I don't know- but on the descent from 9 my legs were not at all happy with the world, and my normal descending ability had deserted me- the ascent to 12 I was very much feeling it, and have to say that I was mightily pissed off with another racer who totally ignored the correct place to cross the fence- at a marked stile- and just jumped the fence at a random place a long way down it- getting straight on a better trod. Not cool at all. If there is a specific place marked to cross a fence- use that. Don't cheat. 

In case you don't know- and you should- cross at the marked crossings!

Anyhow- it was a slog to get to the path, and then a slog around and into the mist and some trixy nav to find 15, but I managed to hit it bang on. (I decided to take an early line to the top, go along the path and drop down to it- my legs just didn't feel able to bash through undergrowth on the contour- and ended up not too far behind someone who had done the opposite and seemed to have lost a lot of time). 

Oddly- blue was faster. Or it was in my fatigued state, anyway

 

Then back to the main path, along past the Pagoda and a silly nav error saw me crossing bogs and heading too far north (and high) for Edale rocks- just as it started to rain/sleet and then snow. Great. A minor adjustment and down to the rocks, and then south to Swines Back and Edale cross. 

I was hanging now. Not progressing at anything close to what I might charitably call a run and entertained thoughts of hanging a left, going down Jacobs ladder and calling it a day. The thing that stopped me was just how tedious that run is. At Edale Cross there was a choice to get CP8. I decided that was not a good idea. There was not a huge amount of time left and this would involve another down and up. As it was, I wasn't sure if I had enough time to get back anyway, and also didn't want to aggravate the knee anymore- so straight to the trig point at Brown knoll and then a short bearing to 18. Back to the slab track and then down and a bit of guesswork (that turned out to be slightly wrong) to find 14. There is a grough on the ground that evidently isn't quite big enough to be denoted on the map, so I followed that down- which was a bit too far to the south- at the edge, realised the mistake and had to track back north for a couple of hundred yards to get to a cairn that I never knew was there before. 

Looking at it now- red wouldn't have been that much worse- or longer

The choice to go back to the slabs was there, but a memory stirred of an old trod from the Edale Skyline race that skirted around the top of the valley. In front of me was an old trod, and in my state of "Its not going well, I might as well just see what happens" I followed the trod. No-one else on it, no-one else following me- and it took me (somewhat slowly considering my fatigued state) right around to where I hoped it would. By now, the uphills no matter how small and easy were very much walking and time was running out. 

The executive decision was made not to drop down to 17 and back to 4 and home, but rather to go from 16 to 3 and 10, make a judgement as to whether to just drop to 1, or if there was time to include 6. 

Executive decision. Not red. Go Blue. Try Green if enough time.

Slow going. Very slow going. Not feeling great, slopping along through the mud- it took an age to get to 3, and from there to 10, where time had basically slipped through my fingers. If I was feeling more sprightly, 6 *might* have been a goer- but in my current physical and mental state, it absolutely wasn't. A direct route down and off and a shuffle back to the event centre for a cup of tea and flapjack. 

Certainly no-where near as successful as my time at Hayfield. I felt lacklustre the whole way through and have no real idea why. 

One of *those* days

Ian beat me today- so we are 1 all for the Peak raids that we've done against each other.... If I end up doing the one out in Baslow, it might be quite amusing just to start about 1 min behind him, follow him the whole way round commenting on his mapreading decision making and then outsprint him at the end. It wouldn't be very sporting, but it *would* be quite funny.

Let's just say I fell in a LOT of holes today. Fatigued doesn't even begin to cover it.

Peak Raid- Kinder 2024

 I saw a post on the Glossopdale Harriers whatsapp group from Ian saying "I see a number of people have signed up to Peak Raid in a couple of weeks- anyone need a lift?". I didn't even realise that there was a Peak Raid on, let alone over from Hayfield, so I signed up and shared a lift. 

Having not done a decent long run (read: more than 13k) since July (which was Wasdale- sandwiched between 2 100mile bike rides)- and May before that (the somewhat disappointing Pendle Cloughs Fell race), I was looking forward to a bit of nav, a bit of rough ground running, and, considering the weather forecast, a bit of dreich weather over the tops. Not expecting anything particularly spectactular, just 3 hours of decent bashing through heather. 

My start time was around 830, and Ian and Tom were starting at the same kind of time, hence the arranged lifts. The start pen was a good couple of km from registration, so a bit of a walk through some drizzle was a good warm up. There was a weather warning out over scotland today, and strong winds forecast for the rest of the country- so a decent southerly was going to be blowing. Taking that into account, I figured that running into the teeth of the wind for a long time was going to get somewhat tedious, so decided that it would be intelligent to do as much south to north running as possible. 

I dibbed in at Bowden Bridge, got my map and immediately started running South. Yes- I know what you're thinking having just read that last paragraph, but the idea is sound. Running south in the valley to get some checkpoints before getting onto higher ground and turning north was the plan. It took a little time for my head to get back into navigation and running speeds, so finding the first checkpoint was, while not troublesome, took slightly longer than it should have done. 

Equally, as I was running up to the second check I had to stop to make sure I was running on the right track. There was no way I could have been anywhere else, but its good to check and check again. (It just didn't seem right, though it absolutely was). Dib at check 5 and an immediate right, down through fields and onto a path, then off a path and onto slopey open moorland, where I came into check 7 a bit high and had to run down to the broken wall to dib. (It seems from the people that followed me down, this was something a few people did). 

From here there was a choice of routes. The thing that seems to take most time is indecision. If you can't decide which is the faster route, the time you've spend dithering is probably the amount of time that was the difference between them! - So staying low and dropping along a trod line and into the clough before the climb out to 15, and a climb up the Kinder Trog line (which would normally be followed down to drop you into Dimpus Clough). 

It's a long old climb, that one, so shotblokz were taken as I walked up the hill to Edale Cross, and then straight north as if going to the Trig point. At this stage the wind was very definitely coming from the south to south-east, so it was nice to have a bit of a tailwind. My old-school Mudclaws were slipping around all over the paving slabs, so they definitely felt like the wrong choice of footwear for this section of the race. That being said, with so little confidence in my grip, it did mean that I was taking it a bit easy and not going too fast. 

A swift out and back to the West to pick up Cp12, and then up to Kinder Low for CP19, before following a very muddy/peaty trod out towards Noe Stool and up to the Pagoda to pick off Cp14. 

From here, you *could* retrace your steps and go around 2 sides of a triange to hit the edge path and run north to Red Brook. OR you could just use a bearing and use some groughs to guide you in a North Westerly direction which theoretically should just drop you slap bang onto Red Brook following the single edge of the triangle. So I did that, and ended up hitting the control dead on. 

Now comes another conundrum- do you go along the edge path out and around Kinder Downfall to get to 18 which is on the top- and then do a down and back up for Mermaids pool (16), or do you just grit your teeth and drop down RedBrook and climb back out to the pool and thence up to the top again?

Well, seeing as it was a bit claggy, I took a lower path thinking I'd kind of do a bit of both, and then as the mist cleared, I could see the pool out over to my left, across the valley. Quite a significant down and up, so I dropped and committed. It was a bit of a gnarly descent, and at this point, mudclaws were definitely the correct shoe choice- all the way down to the River Kinder and then back up to the pool, where I came across a bunch of wild campers who were displaying a number of traits I despise of people heading into the great outdoors. Smoking, loud music etc. At least there weren't any piles of rubbish around- I sincerely hope they took their stuff with them. (am I a snob? I dunno, but dance music on a hill? There is a time and a place, and that is not the place). 

I digress. 

From the pool the uphill trend continued, initally off path and then onto a trod, slowly working my way to the crag at the top of the hill. Coming closer, I could see a runner coming in from the top, thinking it was Geoff, I sprinted in to get the control just before him. (chatting to Geoff at the end, it turns out it absolutely wasn't him... and I spent a good 30 mins wondering who on earth it could have been- Ian cleared up the mystery.. It was him). 

From the dib, straight up and over the top of Kinder Sandy Heys trig, and then off down into the Ashop where I followed the wrong stream down the hill. Turns out it's a stream when it rains (ie. today), but is isn't a stream on the map. So it took a little longer to get to and find CP 17 than I would have liked. However, I dibbed it and had a decent line across in a North Westerly direction to Cp20, going up the clough- but was faced with the problem of getting from there to 13. 

13 was one of those that if you came from a different angle you'd have better catching features. From 20 it was going to have to be compass work and some dead reckoning (and blind faith). It took more time than I would have liked to make it to the Pennine Way, where I ran along it for a short time before making the decision to break off right and dead reckon it to the checkpoint, using some compass work, but mainly looking at the lie of the land. I dropped into the clough area a little low, and worked my way back up to the South for about 30 metres before I found it, thinking that if it wasn't there, I was going to have quite a challenge on my hands to get it. 

Coming into the final 45 mins now, and I'd been wondering if I could hit 11, then 10, then 3 (30,30 and 20 points respectively), rather than missing one of the 30 pointers out. I traversed around Mill Hill and then took the path and trod out and round the Nose of Kinder- Windy Gap very much living up to it's name as I- for the first time, really had to run into the full force of the wind. It wasn't far to the outcrop of rock to get 11, and then I started to make my way back in the same direction I had come, thinking I would go around the top and drop into 10. Minor issue being, I wouldn't really have any way of knowing when to drop in. there were no real features... 

Throwing caution to the wind, I hung a left and dropped down the slope into William clough, figuring that I'd come into it at a stream junction, run down to the next stream junction and climb up that stream to the checkpoint. A really good idea in practice, but not when you climb up the wrong stream. 

Higher and higher I climbed, looking for the feature, and with maybe 30 mins left, I thought that if I didn't drop straight onto it, I'd have to leave it. It became clear that the feature was not where I was. Across to my left- about 400m away, over some significantly rough terrain was a distinctive knoll. Dammit. I'm meant to be over there. And I'm further away from the finish than I thought- and there is some pretty hard terrain to go over... only one thing to do, and that is to get over it as fast as possible. 

 

Through heather and groughs and bracken across to this feature, where I sprain my right ankle pretty badly as I drop into the checkpoint- a bit of a hobble and a swear on the climb back up to the top and through more heather to the trod that takes you off the hill. Time is ticking down, and there is checkpoint 3 which theoretically is on the way down. I run as fast as I can down the trod, and it splits- grouse butts off to the right... the check is a grouse butt, so I hang a right, trying to calculate times and distances- running past 2 butts before I realise Im going in the wrong direction.... check the map and yes- there is a line of butts that isn't the line I need- argh- bash across a hundred yards of heather to get back to the trod I was on, and then down to the end of the butts- and further beyond where I slow down to make sure I find the ruined one just off to the right and in a stream bed. 

10 mins to go. 2k ish- maybe a little more? 2.5? I know most of this though, but there is a final checkpoint that I might be able to squeeze in on the way home. Down past White Cabin into the wind and now a LOT of rain. A left and right onto the Bridleway, and then down to the dogleg above the reservoir- tippy-toe down the really slippy slidey cobbles and out through the gate at the bottom- dart off to the left and over the bridge to get the final checkpoint- just less than 5 mins to go and just over a kilometre back to the start. Do I go back across the bridge to take the road? Do I just stay on this side and take the track. 

I'm now soaked through and decide not to look at my map, relying on the knowledge that this track takes me back to the road at the bottom- which it does indeed, and then back onto the road to the end- which is a lot lot lot lot longer than I remembered. 

Do you look at the map to work out how far you have to go? No- don't even look at the watch to work out how long you have left. It isn't much time and the only thing you CAN do is run as fast as you can. Looking at the watch takes up valuable time. 

Finally the finish comes into sight- and I run in and dib. Then I look at my watch. 2:59:25. 

Ah- so I had a full 35 seconds to play with! Close. 

So there you go. A decent run out- 21k and 1200m ascent. I took some good lines, and a few bad ones. Even if I had nailed them, I'm not sure if I'd have had enough time to get any more controls though- that would probably have needed a full 10 mins extra. 

Good times.

TPRNo4 reflections and lessons

 You can't prep for and do a long event without some fallout at the end- whether you finish or not. There is always going to be some kind of learning process. This is perhaps even more true for those who do not finish. Retrospection and reflection are the nature of the beast when you find yourself as a non-finisher. What went wrong?

What went right?

Was it the planning? The execution? The kit? Something unexpected? Something utterly expected? Or all of the above? 

portrait by the wonderful Liz Seabrook - @lizseabrook

I suspect there are a number of contributing factors as to what went wrong. However, one of the main points of note is that the longest rides I have completed in the past, and indeed recent past have been about 600km, and over 2 or 3 days. It probably isn't coincidence that everything fell apart after 3 days and about 600km. In hindsight, perhaps my training should have focussed a little more on multi-day longish rides rather than long rides in a single push, or over just a couple of days. 

Yes, of course this takes time, but I have had no experience of getting up, doing 200k, sleeping and then going again, day after day after day. After about 3 days everything begins to break down and instead of being proactive, you tend to be fighting fires, everything takes a bit more concentration to do etc. It was really hard to multi-task on the bike by day 2, while every time you start a new audax or a long ride from fresh, that cumulative mental fatigue hasn't even begun yet. 

So Lesson 1: practice multiday efforts- either concentrating on distance, or simply time in the saddle, building the fatigue, but also practicing being competent at eating, drinking and making decisions on day 4, 5 and beyond. 

Training consistency... yes, I'm being more focussed on the prep at this point, don't worry I'll get to the interesting bit of the actual race in a moment. Looking at my overall cycling distance and ascent for this year, I've done much much more than any other year since 2011. Not only that, but cumulatively, including running, (of which I have done VERY little), I've done more distance and ascent than any other year as well... all well and good- about 5000km of cycling or so- which is probably slightly less than average for most people doing this event. Although it *felt* like I was doing loads, I probably wasn't. 

more cycling than ever before!

Equally, and this is probably my biggest downfall- in the 2 months leading up to the event my mileage and general activity levels dropped off significantly. My acute training load took a huge dive. This was partly as I had just done my first 300k audax (with a bit added on at each end), and my bike was going in for a service. In hindsight, I should have really have been going out for long, long days on the mountain bike, or semi-long runs, or SOMETHING. As it was, I didn't. There was, of course, lots of prep to do in terms of admin, routes, travel etc. but I was not keeping myself in a decent amount of chronic fitness load. 

This is not what consistency looks like

In the final month, my brain was just done with the training. I didn't really want to go out, the weather was pretty awful and I started to get a bit paranoid about injury. The turbo was my excuse, though I simply ended up spinning at a low level and not really pushing myself at all. No, I didn't want to gas myself out and go into the event, but ended up going into it somewhat undercooked. Not entirely raw- but definitely undercooked. 

Not the picture of consistency in the final 3 months, it has to be said.

You can see that my training took a drastic fall into August and not a huge amount happened in September either... although it *felt* consistent, really was not. (Ignore the final 2 datapoints - that's the week of the race). Essentially, August into September- everything just fell apart. Not great, it has to be said, and this might have been the single biggest training error that contributed to my downfall. 

So there you go. Lesson 2: keep consistent right up to a week before race day. 

Personal admin was generally pretty good. The reason why I haven't really done multiple day events in the past has been because of my skin. Ecsema has been a real bane of mine when doing long efforts. Single days out at hard efforts would render me unable to do much for a week or 2 just because my skin ended up inflamed, itchy and it would take extended periods of time to actually recover to the point of being able to do any exercise. This year I have been on a new drug called Dupixent which seems to have genuinely sorted things out. I had no real trouble with ecsema either in the run up to, or during the race which is an absolute bonus. 

The problem I did have- as alluded to earlier was that by the middle of day2 and onward into day 3, I was having trouble not only eating, but having the co-ordination to get food out of my bags and chew on it, while cycling. The concentration needed was more than I could afford- and so I ended up stopping a lot more than I intended- just so that I could chew something! This isn't really something you can practice unless you're in that place of tiredness- which means long, long hours of training. I thought I had got there on a couple of rides, but as explained, they were only a couple of days long- we're not talking days and days of racing, which is a whole other kettle of fish. 

Lesson 3. Personal admin, even though you think you have it nailed on shorter events and tours of 3 days or less, it doesn't mean that you have the brain capacity or dexterity to manage it further on in terms of days or fatigue. You need to practice in a fatigued state. 

The headgame is really important. I suspect I set myself up for failure. In the planning phase of the route I ended up unconciously writing my route up in specific days. This was partly to work out what shops were open when (Sunday opening hours are a nightmare in Spain), but also partly to vaguely plan where I was going to stop for sleep in hotels... thus it became more and more ingrained in my head that I would be in certain places on certain days. What this ultimately meant was- that once I was behind schedule, I became more and more obsessed with where I wasn't. How long it was taking me, how slow I was going etc. Maybe, even by the time I had stopped on day2 I was in a bit of a funk as to how slow I was going and thus my mental state was taking a dive even as my knee started to hurt. 

Once everything goes downhill mentally, you're really in a bad place and it takes a LOT (Not just a maccyD's) to pull you out of it and kick you off down the road. I realised that night in Jaca that that was it. Done. Nothing was going to turn me around from there. In hindsight, maybe I could have carried on - to the utter detriment of my health, I imagine- but I'm glad that I didn't. 

Lesson 4- the Mind is Primary. I know this anyway- but fell into the trap of giving myself unrealistic targets pretty much from the off. Don't do that. Be flexible in planning and on the day. 

Getting hotels. This was probably my biggest concern about the whole race. I like things to be planned. I like to know when I'm getting somewhere and where I'll sleep. On previous adventures the worst part of the day was towards evening when there was no campsite planned and I was scanning every field in the hours before I stopped to see if it had potential for camping. It was an extra layer of stress that really took away from the enjoyment of the ride. It was playing on my mind that I'd have to work out where I was going to get to, timings etc. Now- it didn't entirely go to plan. On the first day I booked late and had to ride FAR longer than was good for me to get to the hotel. On the second day I booked too early and didn't get to the hotel and ended up paying for another one that night- and on the third day, well, I was kind of cooked and at the end of my race, so it wasn't entirely what I was thinking was going to happen. That being said- I did it. Every night when a hotel was needed, I got one. It wasn't without some stress, granted, but it was possible. Some nights I paid a lot, some I paid not a lot- but it has broken the worry and stress of it for me and probably opened up a whole world of possibility that was previously a scary and closed book.  

Lesson 5- the hotel thing was fine. Sometime expensive, but fine.

Blisters are expected. I had no idea. For all the miles I have ridden my bike, I've never had a blister on my bum. Yes, I've been saddle sore- but blisters? No. Never. At the end, when I saw Robin- the winner unpack his utterly minimal luggage, I noticed that he had 2 full packs of large size compeed. I had taken a single small compeed for the entire trip. Ah. It seems that blisters on contact points are a fairly common occurance in the Ultra-cycling world, and I certainly should have been more prepared for them. 

Lesson 6- take more big patches of Compeed than you think you'll need. If you don't get blisters, fine- but if you do, you'll be prepared. 

Still can't believe I lost a pair of shoe covers and a tool box. It just goes to show that if you have elastic loops on something, don't rely on them to keep stuff on your bike. The shoe covers- well, they basically live on the outside of my bags. Not anymore. Always inside now- I'm not losing ANOTHER pair! As for the tool bottle- it was pretty securely attached in a bottle cage and had never come out on any of the offroad sections I've done in the past (and I've abused this bike!). However, it seems that it would be a good idea to either get another Restrap cage with an elastic lock on it (such as the one I had for the big bottle), or reinforce the bottle attachment with another thing, like a Restrap strap or something. Alongside that, it was a good idea to split my spares between that bottle holder and the inside of my saddle bag, so that when I lost the bottle, I still had a spare pair of brake pads and a puncture repair kit on my bike. 

Lesson 7- strap EVERYTHING on with more than one point of failure or keep it inside a bag.

The last I saw of my tool bottle

 Lights... yes, I took too many. Had I spent a vast amount of money on a dynamo set up, I'm sure I would be raving about it. However, I did not. There were, however, a number of people who did have a dynamo set up who were having issues at the start - with connections not working and lights playing up and general weirdness that seems to go along with dynamos. Apparently they all have their idiocyncracies, and just because you take it to a bike shop, it doesn't necessarily hold that they they'll be able to help you, let alone solve the problem. 

The week before the race I freaked out that I wouldn't have enough light to get me down some of the more gnarly descents and so was bought a (very) early birthday present. Having used Exposure Joysticks for a number of years, I utterly trust the brand, and ended up with an Exposure Race. It isn't the most powerful light they do, but it has an incredible beam and has a digital readout on the back so that you can see how long you have left in each of the modes. It's very reassuring to have insane brightness on the way down a hill, and then knock it into a lower mode for climbing where it tells you that there is *still* 20 hours of light left in the batteries at that level. I didn't use my emergency Alpkit lights at all, barely used the Joystick, but the Trace and TraceR lights were excellent for daytime visibility. (some people will say "you took machined aluminium lights with you? Are you crazy? Theyre really heavy!)- in comparison to other things, yes, but I've been on a hill when a light has decided not to work, and it isn't fun. These lights work- and they work well. 

Would I consider a dynamo in the future? Maybe. As I mentioned, it's a fair old financial outlay for things that I really don't do very often. The battery power that I took with me was enough to top up my lights through the day if needed, and they were always recharged in hotels overnight. A dynamo would certainly be useful if doing multiple days away from any power source, but that isn't on my list of things to do at the moment. 

Lesson 8- reliable lights are utterly necessary. If you can't rely on them, get some new ones. (but don't carry too many). 

And speaking of powerbanks, I had 2 10,000maH batteries. They were fine. The only things I really charged were my small lights and my wahoo. yes- the new garmins have insane amounts of battery life, and it is a little annoying to have to charge the wahoo on the go, but it's fine. The thing that really guzzles battery power is the phone, so I put it in maximum battery saving mode (but without dimming the screen to the point of not actually being able to see it), and the amount of battery it saved was incredible. It meant that I recieved no information when it was in my pocket, but every time I took it out to take a photo, it woke up and messages etc came in. A compromise, yes, but better than having to charge a hungry phone every few hours and blast through your battery packs which might be needed for later. 

Lesson 9- Phone in powersave was a very good idea. 

Lesson 10: Kettles. French and Spanish hotels have no kettles in the rooms. Nightmare. That is all. 

The knee. What happened with the knee? Had you asked me before the race what was going to be the thing that stopped me, I could have given you a list. It would have included numb hands, painful neck, sickness, dehydration, painful feet, mechanical issues, lack of battery power for lights, lack of sleep etc etc. Knees would not have been on that list. 

Again, I think this goes back to the inadequate acute training load in the month(s) leading up to the race. It wasn't like it was a muscle giving out (though they felt like they wanted to), it was the tendons from the hamstring on either side of my knee. Ibuprofen helped to a point, which indicates some kind of inflammation in the tendon, most likely through overuse. Just continually taking ibuprofen for the next few days would have been an option- but not a good one. That and long distance events are not a good combination and ending up in hospital with rhabdomyalysis is not on my list of "want to do's". 

It might have been because of the weight of my bike (though I've been training on it with bags since February). It might have been that the excessive height gain and distance on the first day just drove me into a box that I couldn't recover from- that first day should perhaps have been cut into a couple of shorter sections. Figuring that day would be the freshest, a whole load of distance and ascent were packed in- perhaps to the detriment of my legs for the rest of the race. Also- there wasn't really much in the way of making the bike too much lighter. 

In the end, I feel I made the right choice in scratching. Finishing a race- or indeed getting half or 3/4 of the way through to the detriment of my health is not a thing I'm happy with. That's kind of what happened on the Spine and I was messed up for a LONG time. This time I'm hoping to be back out doing things relatively quickly. 

Lesson 11... well, I'm not entirely sure about this, it is probably the same as 1 or 2- keep the training consistent and you won't go far wrong.  

 

Did I go too fast? When I scratched I was in 25th place or thereabouts- which is pretty decent. Certainly I was no-where near the front of the pack, Robin had done 1000k where I was just about getting to 600 (mind you, his bike, fully loaded was lighter than my bike with nothing on it!). However, being in the top 1/3 of the racers might have felt a bit spicy for someone who hadn't done this kind of thing before. To be honest, I didn't feel like I was going fast. I felt like I was going very very slowly indeed. Stopping on hills where I didn't think I should be stopping, spending more time in hotels than necessary and generally being "not fast". There was some comment made that my knee must have started to give me problems because of the fast descent on the hike-a-bike, but to be honest- that was the least of my issues. Could I have gone slower? Well, maybe, but as mentioned previously that may well have eaten into my head even further because of the "I should be at X by now" thoughts- which were entirely self-inflicted and not helpful. Maybe I just need to lower my expectations somewhat. Better to exceed your plans and be ahead of a random schedule than the opposite where you get mired in self doubt.  

Mudguards. I ride with these on the bike pretty much all year round. In the Peak district it's kind of necessity unless you like having a wet bum and crap all up your face. No-one else on the race had guards, but crikey, on the descent to Vielha, and at a number of other points on the race I was very very glad to have them! Ok, bikes look waaay cooler with out guards, but when you're 2 days deep and covered in your own grime, who actually looks cool? At the sharp end, I can see the point of not having guards, but down in the pack? Yeah, I'd use them every time. 

Lesson 12- mudguards. Yes. We love them 

 

Tyres- GP5000AS 700x35. Yes- that's 35! No issues with them at all. No punctures, good grip on wet road and dry. Ok, so they might be a little heavier than others, but through gravel and fairly technical terrain they kept me upright and going with minimal fuss. That's what you want from a tyre, something that you forget is there and just keeps
on going. Very happy indeed. (yes expensive, but really- I run tubes and they're very much a fit and forget).  

Lesson 13- tyres- and this goes for everything else as well- if you don't think you can rely on them, find something else that you can.

That'll probably do for the moment, I think. I could get bogged down in the minutiae of all the bits of kit that I took. The main thing that contributed weight that didn't get used were 4 spare innertubes. I might look at getting some of the new hyperlightweight ones that are now being advertised. Damn, but theyre expensive though! 

For the moment, autumn is here, winter is coming and I'm very much looking forward to getting running properly again. The Autumn South-westerlies should be making an appearance for windsurfing, and the gym is certainly calling, as is the climbing wall.

I did wonder about getting a cycling coach- or some kind of external voice as to what I might want to focus on in terms of cycling and running. However, those together, alongside the gym, climbing and windsurfing are such an eclecltic mix of sports that I can't imagine anyone has any more experience than I do of meshing the training together. It's fairly obvious that without giving one or two of them up that I'll probably never rise above crass mediocrity, but flipping heck, they're all fun and maybe that's waht I should be focussing on. 

If anyone has any suggestions for coaches who have some ideas about multi-disciplinarians, by all means get in touch, I'd be intrigued to know who is out there.