The Sacred Saturday
Saturdays; with the exception of the occassional cross-country or relay race; have long been my sacred day, a day that I take as a rest day. However since December 2012 this has been something that I have broken on - well every Saturday in December since I had done the Marcathon, an event that was used to encourage and motivate people to run during the cold winter days and/or nights when motivation is normally low. It was also the first time I ever ran for more than 6 days in a row without a day off (My running week starts on a Sunday with a long run and ends on a Friday)
Today was one of those long broken sacred days, but instead of doning the rubber soul of my trainers, I swapped it for the rubber of my 700x23 tyres and went for a cycle. I thought that todays cycle would be easy; after all I have been out with these guys before and have covered this distace several times; not many but several and they were managable. How wrong was I, todays cycle was a windy, windy, windy 30 miles and the hill from hell.
Up and at'em; should I stay or should I go?
So rising this morning at the crack of dawn; way to early than needed and somewhat easier than and I am able to when its work I am supposed to be getting up for; I take a look out the window and wonder what today's weather will be like and had a 'Should I - Shouldn't I' moment, not because I am a fair weather cyclist or anything like that, guess it's just one o' them normal reactions when the weekend roles around; but I decided to go for it, after all the day looked fine and seeing as we dont get many of them right now and they are as unpredictable as rolling a dice. I had to make a slight adjustment to the seat, no' very interesting I know but hey it fills a line of texts so it acts as padding :) .
Fed and Watered
So after a few glasses of water and a seat adjustment I have a lovely bowl of Chocolate Special K, light airy and most important of all delicious.
Padded drawers, t-shirt and a few long sleeve tops, topped with my lovely bright yellow long sleeve cycling top; dont want to go un-noticed, after all i aint the only numpty on the road; cycling shoes, helmet and finally my trusty gloves, of the fingerless type. All suited and ready to go I clip clop my way outside sounding like someone in high heels doing the walk of shame. I aint outside for 2 seconds and I figure, hell its chilly for June, yeh I know its May, but I figure it will still be this cold in June; I gets to thinking, few weeks ago, on a day of less wind and slightly warmer the fingers got slightly cold on some down hill sections and a few straights to the point they were stuck in the shape of a 'c', frozen round the handle bars, none of that this week, straight back in the hoose for the full fingered version o' the gloves me thinks!
Rolls the bike out onto the street, step over the machine and clip in the right foot to the pedal, get rolling and clip the left foot into the pedal, together we have become one, man and machine in perfect harmony; till I turned the corner that was and it was apparent that this jockey was gonna have to do all the work himself as there would be no coasting today, the wind was full force in the face, slowing you to a halt at a moments notice.
And we're off and cycling!!
So a few miles I join the others and off we go. Seems the wind has calmed down and the cycling will be easier after all, then you move out from the back of the line and you realise that the wind hasn't gone anywhere you're just relying on the generous nature of your mates to act as a wind break, (Thanks guys I might take a longer turn at the front next time, lol)
So the legs are warmed up and everything is flowing freely, slightly windy but its a good day over all and then it happens, only 4.5 miles into the run, cycling along a nice country back road that goes now where in particular; whoosh, some asshole comes from nowhere with no warning, the wind in the ears doesnt help to be slightly honest, but still...this numb nut tries to push past, I say push, thats probably an understatement, he was going past regardless of how he got there; even if this did involve nearly running over the top of one of us in the process, stupidly past but safely out of harms way we can go back to enjoying the cycle.
Cycling along having a chat with a new fella that had joined us today, he was asking about running and other such things made a comment about how we seemed to be able to cycle along without what he perseived to be 'without breathing'. I tried to explain to him that as runners we had mastered the art of breathing through our arse's. He said as a mountain biker, he felt he should also master such a tehnique for the future.
The Hill from Hell
The cycle went smoothly for the next 9 miles and I took a turn at the front of the line, cycling along through a quite wee village turning left up a small hill which proves no problem at all, but knowing the route and the area etc we all knew what lay ahead another mile or so up the road and then it came, from round the bend it loomed up infront of us the hill from hell. It's strange of all the years I have been doing some form of cycling and or running, I know I have never cycled over the hill in any shape or form and can't recall having ran over it either. And so it was for the first time I slowly climb the hill from hell; my speed dropped as quick as the hill rose; a mile long from bottom to top and a climb of 300ft. Short by comparison to some hills but today the wind was coming down as we were going up. Looking ahead I see it climb, I think to myself 'for fu..' but I dont have the breath to think it let alone say it, probably using the wrong gear as well I plod on determind to get there, standing up, leaning forward, shifting my position to get the maximum push and minimum effort from my legs, most probably had I just got the right gear and stayed in ma saddle I would have used less energy in the long run; or in this case long cycle.
This certainly was the hill from hell and I thought I was trying to cycle out of it, lungs and legs on fire, I got there in the end and we regrouped at the top and took in the view, Ailsa Craig, Arran, Troon and surrounding area all looking stunning in the distance. Graham took pleasure in informing us that today we came up the easy side of the hill, explaining that there were a few small sections where it flattened out before the next climb and even had a small decent at one point, also explaining that the other side had a steep start and was a constant climb right to the top, but was the same distance of a mile. In our defence the wind didn't help our cause on the climb and this could also be noted on the down hill. Once regrouped and breath all back we set off on the decent, only managing to top out at 33 miles per hour on the decent just shows how the wind was severly affecting us, but it was still a blast. Strange, doesnt matter how old you get going down hill on a bike one always wants to see how 'fast we can go'.
Time for Tea :)
A few miles down the road and a nice wind free section we stopped for a break and had a nice Hot Chocolate with 'the works', thats marshmallows, cream and chocolate shavings and a scone with, jam, butter and cream; I aint a scone person but I must admit the scones in this place are just amazing and dare I say to die for. The cream was fresh whipped and the Hot Chocolate with 'the works' warmed the hands and the heart.
On the road again.
Full up of goodies and seized up as well, we climbed aboard our steads and ventured home wind blowing from every direction, coming down a small sharp incline I hit what seemed like a boulder in the middle of the road and had a nice wee nerve wracking wobble. Once stable I was concerned about the wheel, but it is alright as well.
The run back to the meeting point was eventful from there on in, not sure if it was plainly and simply eventful or the small hic-up with the stone had made everything else seem like nothing in comparison. The final mile and half saw me falter and fade from the group and I found myself about 200m behind as we reached the point where we met. Not stopping, the guys just pausing to give me time to catch-up and make sure I was alright, we ran on together for a further 400m and then each peeling off as required. A further 1 and half miles up the road, having completed just under 30 miles in a respectable 2hrs 6 minutes (including the stop at the top of the hill to admire the view; but not the time for Chocolate and Scones) I find myself somewhat exhilarated and feeling better than expected based on how I felt about 3 miles earlier.
I went, I cycled, I conquered.
Saturdays; with the exception of the occassional cross-country or relay race; have long been my sacred day, a day that I take as a rest day. However since December 2012 this has been something that I have broken on - well every Saturday in December since I had done the Marcathon, an event that was used to encourage and motivate people to run during the cold winter days and/or nights when motivation is normally low. It was also the first time I ever ran for more than 6 days in a row without a day off (My running week starts on a Sunday with a long run and ends on a Friday)
Today was one of those long broken sacred days, but instead of doning the rubber soul of my trainers, I swapped it for the rubber of my 700x23 tyres and went for a cycle. I thought that todays cycle would be easy; after all I have been out with these guys before and have covered this distace several times; not many but several and they were managable. How wrong was I, todays cycle was a windy, windy, windy 30 miles and the hill from hell.
Up and at'em; should I stay or should I go?
So rising this morning at the crack of dawn; way to early than needed and somewhat easier than and I am able to when its work I am supposed to be getting up for; I take a look out the window and wonder what today's weather will be like and had a 'Should I - Shouldn't I' moment, not because I am a fair weather cyclist or anything like that, guess it's just one o' them normal reactions when the weekend roles around; but I decided to go for it, after all the day looked fine and seeing as we dont get many of them right now and they are as unpredictable as rolling a dice. I had to make a slight adjustment to the seat, no' very interesting I know but hey it fills a line of texts so it acts as padding :) .
Fed and Watered
So after a few glasses of water and a seat adjustment I have a lovely bowl of Chocolate Special K, light airy and most important of all delicious.
Padded drawers, t-shirt and a few long sleeve tops, topped with my lovely bright yellow long sleeve cycling top; dont want to go un-noticed, after all i aint the only numpty on the road; cycling shoes, helmet and finally my trusty gloves, of the fingerless type. All suited and ready to go I clip clop my way outside sounding like someone in high heels doing the walk of shame. I aint outside for 2 seconds and I figure, hell its chilly for June, yeh I know its May, but I figure it will still be this cold in June; I gets to thinking, few weeks ago, on a day of less wind and slightly warmer the fingers got slightly cold on some down hill sections and a few straights to the point they were stuck in the shape of a 'c', frozen round the handle bars, none of that this week, straight back in the hoose for the full fingered version o' the gloves me thinks!
Rolls the bike out onto the street, step over the machine and clip in the right foot to the pedal, get rolling and clip the left foot into the pedal, together we have become one, man and machine in perfect harmony; till I turned the corner that was and it was apparent that this jockey was gonna have to do all the work himself as there would be no coasting today, the wind was full force in the face, slowing you to a halt at a moments notice.
And we're off and cycling!!
So a few miles I join the others and off we go. Seems the wind has calmed down and the cycling will be easier after all, then you move out from the back of the line and you realise that the wind hasn't gone anywhere you're just relying on the generous nature of your mates to act as a wind break, (Thanks guys I might take a longer turn at the front next time, lol)
So the legs are warmed up and everything is flowing freely, slightly windy but its a good day over all and then it happens, only 4.5 miles into the run, cycling along a nice country back road that goes now where in particular; whoosh, some asshole comes from nowhere with no warning, the wind in the ears doesnt help to be slightly honest, but still...this numb nut tries to push past, I say push, thats probably an understatement, he was going past regardless of how he got there; even if this did involve nearly running over the top of one of us in the process, stupidly past but safely out of harms way we can go back to enjoying the cycle.
Cycling along having a chat with a new fella that had joined us today, he was asking about running and other such things made a comment about how we seemed to be able to cycle along without what he perseived to be 'without breathing'. I tried to explain to him that as runners we had mastered the art of breathing through our arse's. He said as a mountain biker, he felt he should also master such a tehnique for the future.
The Hill from Hell
The cycle went smoothly for the next 9 miles and I took a turn at the front of the line, cycling along through a quite wee village turning left up a small hill which proves no problem at all, but knowing the route and the area etc we all knew what lay ahead another mile or so up the road and then it came, from round the bend it loomed up infront of us the hill from hell. It's strange of all the years I have been doing some form of cycling and or running, I know I have never cycled over the hill in any shape or form and can't recall having ran over it either. And so it was for the first time I slowly climb the hill from hell; my speed dropped as quick as the hill rose; a mile long from bottom to top and a climb of 300ft. Short by comparison to some hills but today the wind was coming down as we were going up. Looking ahead I see it climb, I think to myself 'for fu..' but I dont have the breath to think it let alone say it, probably using the wrong gear as well I plod on determind to get there, standing up, leaning forward, shifting my position to get the maximum push and minimum effort from my legs, most probably had I just got the right gear and stayed in ma saddle I would have used less energy in the long run; or in this case long cycle.
This certainly was the hill from hell and I thought I was trying to cycle out of it, lungs and legs on fire, I got there in the end and we regrouped at the top and took in the view, Ailsa Craig, Arran, Troon and surrounding area all looking stunning in the distance. Graham took pleasure in informing us that today we came up the easy side of the hill, explaining that there were a few small sections where it flattened out before the next climb and even had a small decent at one point, also explaining that the other side had a steep start and was a constant climb right to the top, but was the same distance of a mile. In our defence the wind didn't help our cause on the climb and this could also be noted on the down hill. Once regrouped and breath all back we set off on the decent, only managing to top out at 33 miles per hour on the decent just shows how the wind was severly affecting us, but it was still a blast. Strange, doesnt matter how old you get going down hill on a bike one always wants to see how 'fast we can go'.
Time for Tea :)
A few miles down the road and a nice wind free section we stopped for a break and had a nice Hot Chocolate with 'the works', thats marshmallows, cream and chocolate shavings and a scone with, jam, butter and cream; I aint a scone person but I must admit the scones in this place are just amazing and dare I say to die for. The cream was fresh whipped and the Hot Chocolate with 'the works' warmed the hands and the heart.
On the road again.
Full up of goodies and seized up as well, we climbed aboard our steads and ventured home wind blowing from every direction, coming down a small sharp incline I hit what seemed like a boulder in the middle of the road and had a nice wee nerve wracking wobble. Once stable I was concerned about the wheel, but it is alright as well.
The run back to the meeting point was eventful from there on in, not sure if it was plainly and simply eventful or the small hic-up with the stone had made everything else seem like nothing in comparison. The final mile and half saw me falter and fade from the group and I found myself about 200m behind as we reached the point where we met. Not stopping, the guys just pausing to give me time to catch-up and make sure I was alright, we ran on together for a further 400m and then each peeling off as required. A further 1 and half miles up the road, having completed just under 30 miles in a respectable 2hrs 6 minutes (including the stop at the top of the hill to admire the view; but not the time for Chocolate and Scones) I find myself somewhat exhilarated and feeling better than expected based on how I felt about 3 miles earlier.
I went, I cycled, I conquered.
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