Good weather is a double edged sword. On one side, you really want to spend all day on the bike, on the other you want to spend time outdoors with the family. Luckily for me there's not much difference between a 3 year old boy and a 33 year old boy so we all got to spend time on two wheels this weekend.
With this year's focus being time trials, I thought it a good idea to take up as little family time as possible and pencilled in a Saturday morning Time Trial, to see how far off race pace I am. Unfortunately for my test, one of my friends also scheduled in leaving drinks for Friday night. He's away with his longterm girlfriend for a 12 month trip around the world, so I popped out for a pint... which turned to three... which turned into a sausage supper at 01:30 and the faint recollection of overshare with a taxi driver. Come 06:00 when my son decided to get up, I didn't think a time trial would be on the cards. Safe to say, I decided to leave it a while and get some family stuff done instead. So we watch a few cartoons and made breakfast, did some art stuff and played with some toys. By 10:00 Mrs N had him in the car and whisked off for a couple of hours of playtime. This, unfortunately, was my window of opportunity. I went for an easy spin/few junk miles to clear the cobwebs and find out what shape I was in, a half shut knife springs to mind. But by the time I was home I didn't feel too bad. I took on some more food and water and got myself perked up, a few cups of coffee later and I was ready to wheel the TT bike out of the garage and onto the familiar Drumoak 10m TT course where I'd unexpectedly produced a 22:54 in September.
I gave it a crude warm up for 7 mins then set off. For the first 400 yards I felt like a winner, the TT bike much more responsive than my daily commuter I've been accustomed to over the last few months, but the illusion was quickly shattered as I struggled to keep my HR anywhere near where I'd been keeping it in September, it was like running on dirty fuel. A few coughs and splutters later I was in a groove but it felt a gear short. I wasn't too upset to find I'd reached the half way mark 40 seconds down on my PB. By about mile 6, I started to feel the crouched position quite tiring on the back so had to shuffle around a bit in the saddle and came up from the aero bars for respite for 10-15 seconds. When I passed through mile 8 without throwing up I knew I wasn't going to be awarded a DNF, which in itself would have been better than the DNS I was predicting earlier in the day. Coming into the home stretch I searched for that last kick but alas I think I left it in Paramount the night before.
I crossed the line approx 75 sec off my PB, but happy that I know there's room for improvement and that with some decent training I'll find that elusive extra gear. That decent training, health permitting, should start in a couple of weeks. A trip to Mallorca with a few lads from the Wheelers sparkles on the horizon. But that brings another set of problems... HILLS. It dawned on me later that night that I hadn't done any hill work this year, Mallorca has a lot of hills. Mrs N kindly gave me another couple of hours window on Sunday morning to get some hills in. It wasn't enough time to jump on with the Wheelers for their proposed 75 but I figured a couple of hours of hills would serve me just as well.
The closest hill I could think of was the 1.5miles stretching from Bieldside to Blacktop. My garmin says it's an average of 3.5% but there are a couple flat sections included so I'd make it more like half a mile of flat, book ended with two half miles at 8%. I'm sure the last kick is about 15%. From memory, it gets the heart pumping. I took a fairly direct route to the bottom of the hill ready to give it a crack. My thinking being I could give it a good kick on my first attempt, my 2nd and 3rd rep would be a bit more manageable. It started off alright, nice and steady pace, never going harder than I thought I would be able to sustain for the whole hill. I got up to the flat then got the bit between my teeth and decided to open it up, by the time I neared the last kick I could feel the lactic building. Just as the kick reached it's sharpest I rose out of the saddle for the first time and the chain gave a couple of slips on the cassette, lucky for me she caught again (new one is on order) and I gritted myself to the top. Once at the top it took a fair while to recover as I descended back around to Cults and across to Bieldside for another crack. It's been a while since I encountered my old pal Mr Lactic, but he's the same prick that he used to be... I don't think he has too many friends. Half way up the second attempt I'd thrown in the towel with regards a 3rd rep, instead I was planning another attack against the clock and the "Countesswells East" strava segment seemed like the best choice. It didn't leave me much recovery time from the summit but it would be my final effort of the day. I gave it a good go but the same as the previous day, I felt a gear short of race pace. I couldn't really remember where the segment started or finished (for anyone that hasn't got themselves into Strava yet, I can't recommend it enough, google it. No doubt it will be replaced with something else in a couple of years but for now it's great for a bit of motivation on solo rides), I was a couple of seconds off the KOM but now I know where it's at, it's going to get my full attention some day. I might never get it, but it's a bit of fun along the way!
With this year's focus being time trials, I thought it a good idea to take up as little family time as possible and pencilled in a Saturday morning Time Trial, to see how far off race pace I am. Unfortunately for my test, one of my friends also scheduled in leaving drinks for Friday night. He's away with his longterm girlfriend for a 12 month trip around the world, so I popped out for a pint... which turned to three... which turned into a sausage supper at 01:30 and the faint recollection of overshare with a taxi driver. Come 06:00 when my son decided to get up, I didn't think a time trial would be on the cards. Safe to say, I decided to leave it a while and get some family stuff done instead. So we watch a few cartoons and made breakfast, did some art stuff and played with some toys. By 10:00 Mrs N had him in the car and whisked off for a couple of hours of playtime. This, unfortunately, was my window of opportunity. I went for an easy spin/few junk miles to clear the cobwebs and find out what shape I was in, a half shut knife springs to mind. But by the time I was home I didn't feel too bad. I took on some more food and water and got myself perked up, a few cups of coffee later and I was ready to wheel the TT bike out of the garage and onto the familiar Drumoak 10m TT course where I'd unexpectedly produced a 22:54 in September.
I gave it a crude warm up for 7 mins then set off. For the first 400 yards I felt like a winner, the TT bike much more responsive than my daily commuter I've been accustomed to over the last few months, but the illusion was quickly shattered as I struggled to keep my HR anywhere near where I'd been keeping it in September, it was like running on dirty fuel. A few coughs and splutters later I was in a groove but it felt a gear short. I wasn't too upset to find I'd reached the half way mark 40 seconds down on my PB. By about mile 6, I started to feel the crouched position quite tiring on the back so had to shuffle around a bit in the saddle and came up from the aero bars for respite for 10-15 seconds. When I passed through mile 8 without throwing up I knew I wasn't going to be awarded a DNF, which in itself would have been better than the DNS I was predicting earlier in the day. Coming into the home stretch I searched for that last kick but alas I think I left it in Paramount the night before.
I crossed the line approx 75 sec off my PB, but happy that I know there's room for improvement and that with some decent training I'll find that elusive extra gear. That decent training, health permitting, should start in a couple of weeks. A trip to Mallorca with a few lads from the Wheelers sparkles on the horizon. But that brings another set of problems... HILLS. It dawned on me later that night that I hadn't done any hill work this year, Mallorca has a lot of hills. Mrs N kindly gave me another couple of hours window on Sunday morning to get some hills in. It wasn't enough time to jump on with the Wheelers for their proposed 75 but I figured a couple of hours of hills would serve me just as well.
The closest hill I could think of was the 1.5miles stretching from Bieldside to Blacktop. My garmin says it's an average of 3.5% but there are a couple flat sections included so I'd make it more like half a mile of flat, book ended with two half miles at 8%. I'm sure the last kick is about 15%. From memory, it gets the heart pumping. I took a fairly direct route to the bottom of the hill ready to give it a crack. My thinking being I could give it a good kick on my first attempt, my 2nd and 3rd rep would be a bit more manageable. It started off alright, nice and steady pace, never going harder than I thought I would be able to sustain for the whole hill. I got up to the flat then got the bit between my teeth and decided to open it up, by the time I neared the last kick I could feel the lactic building. Just as the kick reached it's sharpest I rose out of the saddle for the first time and the chain gave a couple of slips on the cassette, lucky for me she caught again (new one is on order) and I gritted myself to the top. Once at the top it took a fair while to recover as I descended back around to Cults and across to Bieldside for another crack. It's been a while since I encountered my old pal Mr Lactic, but he's the same prick that he used to be... I don't think he has too many friends. Half way up the second attempt I'd thrown in the towel with regards a 3rd rep, instead I was planning another attack against the clock and the "Countesswells East" strava segment seemed like the best choice. It didn't leave me much recovery time from the summit but it would be my final effort of the day. I gave it a good go but the same as the previous day, I felt a gear short of race pace. I couldn't really remember where the segment started or finished (for anyone that hasn't got themselves into Strava yet, I can't recommend it enough, google it. No doubt it will be replaced with something else in a couple of years but for now it's great for a bit of motivation on solo rides), I was a couple of seconds off the KOM but now I know where it's at, it's going to get my full attention some day. I might never get it, but it's a bit of fun along the way!
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