Laps and Lanes

My racing comeback after a terrible season of illness and injury last year hasn’t really been going in the direction I had hoped. With a completely bare calendar for women in the South West (which I’ll discuss in more depth in another post) I’ve been mainly racing the National Series calendar which is tough without the smaller racing experiences to warm up the legs and the fact that most NS races are based in the North of the country meaning an extra days travel and stop over. All this aside, I’ve been willing to get stuck in and do as much as I can to support my team who are seventh in the National standings currently. My legs have been feeling good. The issue is my head...

I’ve suffered a couple of bad accidents in the last few years which have shaken me - a downhill crash giving me a concussion so bad that I was knocked out and when I woke up I lost the power of speech and still have absences when speaking because of this. And last season, a racing crash caused by another rider cutting across a corner that damaged the nerves in my hip so badly that I was basically racing with the muscles in one leg ‘switched off’ for the rest of the year (I should NOT have been racing after this accident!). Needless to say, this has caused me to lose confidence when descending or cornering in the bunch and I find myself drifting to the back whenever this happens. Then of course, every acceleration and attack is twice as hard to deal with and I inevitably find myself getting dropped or chasing back on for the whole race. It’s defeating in every way you can imagine and it’s a vicious cycle - every time the confidence takes another knock from a poor result, the confidence in the next race is lacking and on and on we go. I’ve been doing some focussed work with a coach on my cornering and descending skills but there’s no way of getting that group experience nailed apart from to keep racing. I think it’s accurate to say I’ve been feeling very frustrated lately.

The one thing that friends keep recommending for me to do to fix this is to go mountain biking. I have actually been mountain biking a handful of times but each time I’ve been on a different bike as I don’t own a mountain bike due to the cost. However, I had recently purchased a second hand cyclocross frame with the idea of building it up and racing this winter and then just after this, my good buddy and old boss Andy invited me to Grinduro, a gravel ride with timed sections up in Scotland, and then on to do some bikepacking on gravel roads. I didn’t really understand what Grinduro was to be honest. It was only on the periphery of my mind because I had seen John from The Radavist and Adeline from Mercredi Bikes post about it on social media but I do know I had firmly put it in the box labelled ‘not for me’. But I was feeling fed up and I had a racing break due so I thought why the heck not?! Let’s go camping and hang out with a bunch of great friends and ex colleagues on the beautiful Isle of Arran. I had no idea how much Grinduro really would be just like mountain biking!

So off we set to Scotland - I had hastily built up my Focus Mares frameset with my old Ultegra road groupset and spare parts from our bike box. I bought some TRP Spyres as I reckon they’re the best cable pull disc brakes you can buy right now and hydraulics were well out of my non-existent budget. Josh kindly loaned me his Hope disc wheelset and I topped them off with 31mm Vittoria Cross XM Pros - not my first (or second or third) choice of tyre for this kind of ride as they tend to be quite skittish on anything other than light mud but we randomly had them lying around from someone else’s build a while back. I rode the bike once before we left to pick up some bikepacking bags from a friend so I had no idea how it would handle what was in store for us. Ideal!

To be continued...

On Sunday, my team Bianchi Dama competed on the famous Isle of Man TT course for the British National Championships Road Race. Our pre race brief was simple - learn and enjoy. Anything else is a bonus.

After a bad start to the week including a little cry at the side of the road on Wednesday after another episode of illness and negligible power output, I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to compete. Yet, there I was lining up right next to Hannah Barnes the current National Champ and Lizzie Deignan former World Champ at the start. As the countdown began I tried not to have a panic attack and rode away next to Hannah thinking ‘Dont knock her off. Don’t knock her off.’ We hit a long downhill and I drifted from the front to the back. An experienced rider I know rolled up next to me and said 'Don’t stress. Just let them fight it out at the front. You only need to get there for the first climb.’ I breathed deep. We rolled on, slowly heading uphill on the undulating course until we would hit the mountain. I was surprised to be sitting comfortably, using each uphill to keep my space and the unrelenting wind at the front helped ensure things stayed together. I found myself next to Lizzie again after one good move forward on a team mate’s wheel and had the nerve to ponder an attack to get the team some camera time. Hesitating was a mistake and soon enough I was swamped by riders coming up the outside and flew rearwards. I hit the steep May Hill much further back than I would have liked. I pushed round the outside of the bunch and up the first switchback to try and find another team mate. The leaders attacked and the whole bunch splintered into little groups as we hit the steepest part of the climb heading up to the Gooseneck. I found my team mate and tapped her on the hip. Get on my wheel I managed to get out on an exhale as I went past. Is she there? No. Shit. I slowed momentarily. Exchanged looks. Alright? A slight shake of the head. Go. I looked up the road. Lizzie’s group was already rounding the next switchback. I did the math. Urgh. My task now was to simply make it on to the finishing circuit to be counted for the team. Off I set again, digging deep to pick off riders one by one. Blue kit - got her. Black kit - got her. Pink kit - got her. A rider became glued to my wheel and I waved her through. We started taking turns. We found another comrade and started making some headway. We hit the flatter part of the climb after what seemed like an eternity and then heard a whoosh of wheels as some dropped riders flew past after the team cars. What?! We joined them and pushed on, echeloning into the cross winds trying not to get our front wheels taken out by each gust. We hit the descent. I decided to hang back. Exhausted riders taking risky lines is not a scenario that fills me with confidence. I hit 75km/h downhill solo in the strong wind. A big deal for me. I looked under my arm. No one. Time trial mode for the next fifteen minutes to get onto the finish circuit. I winced as I passed the Commissaire. Not a word. Blimey, I’m still in the race. The eight minute cut off was harsh but fair to avoid the leaders having to pass stragglers on the shorter finish laps of which there were six. I pushed on. I realised I hadn’t drunk a drop or eaten since the bottom of the mountain. I gulped something down. Suddenly I had company again. Black kit. A World Tour rider. I pushed on the hills not wanting to give her a free ride but she came by on the downhill taking an incredible line through the off camber corner which I tried to follow. Racing on completely closed roads was a revelation. I took the front again and pushed on. As we came up to the line for a second time I flicked my elbow. She flew by me in a blur and I then I saw it. The dreaded black flag. Oh, you fool! I pulled to the side of the road and spontaneously burst into tears, slightly overwhelmed by the whole experience. A friend reassured me that I had done more than was asked and I pulled myself together. We found more friends and headed back to the finish to watch Lizzie take the win and my two teammates roll in with the remains of the bunch in their first Champs. The only part time riders that I could see. Incredible. I warmed down and then our mechanic came over to tell me I had been placed as I did the finishing loop at least once - 65th of 90+ finishers in the end. After the year I’ve had, I’ll take that. For now. I know that I could have placed higher if I had more confidence in the wheels. We de-briefed each other, we laughed, we joked and then we jumped on the 7pm ferry to depart the beautiful island. We landed back in the UK around 11.30pm and drove to Somerset through the night finally hitting bed around 4am. Only just back in Plymouth now. I must admit the travelling kills me more than the racing. A day’s rest, a quick check in with my Doctor for some tests and then on to the next one. We head back up North at the weekend for the Tour of the Reservoir two day. Each of these races is an experience. A complete education. Wish us luck on our journey.

It's a question I get asked a lot recently. I’ve been vegetarian since I was about twenty years old. A decision I made on a whim to see if I could do without meat and quite simply, I could. Now and then I’d cheat and have a piece of fish so technically I have been a pescatarian for the last eight years. In March, I decided to give up all dairy and go completely vegan as an experiment. I’ve been suffering IBS-like symptoms for the past few years and have endured some horrendous experiences at races, not to mention the every day struggle to get of bed in the morning. This decision wasn’t taken lightly, especially given my love of poached eggs on toast and a nice glass of cold milk but I was willing to try anything to alleviate my painful and embarrassing symptoms. Two and half months in and my morning struggles are less often, I feel lighter (metaphorically not my weight) and have so much more energy. I’m also eating some really delicious and healthy things. 

My main concern with being vegan and a competitive cyclist was where is my protein going to come from? I did my research and read the Thrive Diet by ultra endurance athlete Brendan Brazier and my concerns were put to rest immediately. Through a balanced diet containing beans, pulses, leafy greens, nuts and fortified plant milks I would have more than enough protein. I also learned a great deal about nutrition in general and was keen to try lots of the recipes included in the book.

Another concern was cost. Meat and dairy replacement products aren’t always the cheapest and I already eat quite a lot due to how active I am. This issue just boils down to being smart where you shop and also being sensible about what you actually need to eat. Fake chicken? Unnecessary. A tonne of fresh fruit and veg? Totally necessary. Aldi has been amazing for all the extra little nutrition bits I use - chia seeds, flaxseed, coconut oil, quinoa and cold pressed fruit bars are all brilliant value for money from there. Other staples to stock up on are red lentils, cans of chickpeas, mixed beans, frozen spinach and frozen berries - both of which are cheaper than buying fresh.

Breakfast is usually soaked oats (easier to digest) with mashed banana, chia seeds, flaxseed and honey. If I’m having a bad morning an oatie smoothie helps everything go down a bit easier. Banana and blueberry is a simple combination but I also like to experiment if I have time. Lately I’ve been enjoying pears, avocado, spinach and a pinch of raw cacao. I always add chia seeds and flaxseed for a bit of extra protein and top it up with almond or coconut milk.

My favourite lunch is beany burrito wraps. They are as simple as they sound. Simply cook up some rice, add beans of your choice (black beans are great but baked beans work fine too), onion, pepper, mushrooms and spinach. Roll it all up in a wholemeal wrap and devour. You can also add some avocado if you’re feeling flash.

Sweet potato and spinach dahl is my go-to dinner. Simply because a) I’m lazy b) it’s so easy and c) it’s a nutritionally balanced and delicious meal. This is my favourite recipe: https://kitchencanny.wordpress.com/2012/03/23/sweet-potato-spinach-and-lentil-dahl-serves-2/

Another favourite of mine is Pad Thai with buckwheat noodles, tofu, broccoli, peppers and soy sauce. Yum!

If like me, you aren’t the bravest of cooks and are hard pressed for time then I can highly recommend the 15 minute vegan by Katy Beskow.

Exciting news from the South West cold water surfing brand Finisterre:

CALLING ALL WOMEN OF THE SEA

It’s been a long time coming, but we’re pleased to announce the launch of the anticipated Finisterre Women’s Wetsuit Tester Programme.

Today, we’re asking you to help us redefine the cold water wetsuit for women of the sea.

For an opportunity to take part in the Finisterre Women’s Wetsuit Tester Programme, please complete the application.

While the wetsuit is being tested, these gorgeous pieces of practical swimwear are perfect for summer sea based adventures:

True North Marea Long Sleeve Swimsuit

Zonda Bikini Top and Ren Bottoms

When my better looking and more talented partner in crime told me he wanted to start a race team inspired by Formula One in the eighties and the ‘fuck it’ mentality that the professionals used to have, I definitely did an inner cringe. Maybe an outer one too. If you’re going to do this I said, you need to do it right. With a background in kit design and photography, there was no doubting Josh had the skills to make it look good but what was the driving factor and how was he going to get it across without sounding arrogant?

Domestic racing is similar the world over, I’m sure. You have a bunch of riders all trying to hold down jobs whilst trying to win the ‘world champs’ of their local region. There are those that throw thousands of pounds at a bike and kit and talk watts and kgs like no tomorrow, getting high on their own testosterone rush. Bigger, better, faster. The juniors with parents screaming at the commissaires and the men in their forties who take a year’s sabbatical from work just so they can cream the local crop in the most boring way imaginable. It all gets a bit serious. Everybody is a wannabe pro but to what end? The romance, the passion, the ‘joie de vivre’ of the sport literally feels like it is being sucked out at times. 

Kibosh Racing was created as the antithesis of this. The anti-art of the cycling scene. Josh and his friends just wanted to turn up to races and simply enjoy it, whilst bringing some pizzazz to the road. The team came together naturally with each person seeking the same thing but bringing something different to the table. The game was on but the stakes weren’t high.

A year on; a string of great results, a collaboration with Tom ‘Donny’ Donhue to create a beautiful team bike and a highly successful attempt at putting on their maiden road race. The team are certainly making their mark and people are taking notice. Kibosh is a great word as words go. Almost onomatopoeic in nature. Like bim, bam, boom, that shit has been Kiboshed! 

Perhaps we all need a bit of the ‘fuck it’ mentality too...

Stay lit.

I’ve been a huge fan of the men’s Pro Team range from Rapha for a long time now. As a tall, slim woman, the proportion and fit of these pieces combined with the quality and cut is perfect for me. Hence, I’m really pleased to see them continue to develop the Souplesse range which is essentially the PT equivalent for women. The new Lines collection draws heavy inspiration from Op Art pioneer Bridget Riley and while it may make you feel sick if you look at it for too long, the print strikes the right balance between delicate and powerful. The offering for women consists of a lightweight jersey, gilet, base layer and sports bra. There are also matching arm screens available. 

If you ever get the opportunity to see a Riley exhibition, do not hesitate. Not to sound clichéd but it really is a visual treat for the eyes.

Waking up in the dark before work, I get dressed, reaching for the race cape on the back of the door last thing before I leave the house. It’s not raining but the cape is bright yellow and the twisting unlit lanes I frequent most days hide a bike rider well to oncoming traffic. Rolling along in the early twilight, thinking of the day’s tasks, I almost hit a rabbit as it darts across the road disappearing into the hedgerow. It shakes me up and I rub my eyes, trying to focus on the road ahead and my breathing instead of what I need to do later.

Dashing in the front door, I swap my road bike for my commuter, utter hellos and goodbyes to my boyfriend who is just waking up and rush off again. As I sit at my work desk, I flick between the spreadsheet I’m working on and the minutes for this evening’s South West Road Race Working Group meeting. I’m still the new kid on the block when it comes to road racing but I enjoy hearing about other people’s experiences and learning what I can do to help our local scene. Getting home from work, I’m handed some tupperware containing pasta and a fork for the journey. I’ll be getting picked up shortly to go to the meeting. I shrug as the cook asks what time I’ll be back. These things do tend to go on and it’s rare that I’m home before bedtime.

My driver for the evening is the secretary of my local cycling club, a Lincolnshire man who tends to swear a lot and got a speeding ticket last time we made the hour long drive. I decide it is wise to eat the pasta when we arrive. Well past his racing days, he is a tireless volunteer in and around Plymouth, coaching juniors and regularly taking a young blind man for rides on the back of his tandem at weekends. I sometimes pass them, as I am heading back home, heaving up one of the area’s many hills in all weathers. I am always filled with admiration. I note the other arrivals as the sun disappears and we finally get to our destination, a run down football club just off the A38 outside of Exeter. I am the only woman as my other female colleague who is a teacher is stuck at parent’s evening. I’m also the youngest attendee, as usual. Five decades or more separate our chairman and I. He speaks his mind the way people of his age usually do, sometimes for far too long but he is well respected and we always give him the time that he has earned. He has organised hundreds of events over the years, refuses to purchase a mobile phone and sends emails at ungodly hours of the morning asking for volunteers. I can’t help but smile as he chastises other members of the group for not pulling their weight.

As the meeting goes on, I mainly listen, chipping in to second a motion or add support where needed. I reel off my speech about the growth of women’s cycling in the region and our plans for the race series ahead far too quickly and then go grow quiet again. I’m conscious of my place in the pecking order and know the others are probably surprised that I have stuck around for more than one meeting. Secretly, I enjoy them. Looking around the long table, I think about the other members and what compels them to keep coming to these meetings. The father and son, the time trial enthusiast, the ex national champion, the race motorbike riders, the marshals co-ordinator, the youth team manager, the treasurer, the mature racer and the young female newcomer. All very different people. What are their stories? Why cycling? And how do they stay motivated? The majority of the region’s racers probably don’t stop to think about the endless production behind the shows on the road they take part in. The red tape. The repetitive circles of bureaucracy. The constant nagging, reminding, begging for help to keep it all going for yet another season. Someone I admire in the racing community once said that we are in the shadows. He is right. I’d like to tell the story of the men and women that stop this old dinosaur of a sport from becoming extinct.