Saturday morning...eager to get out for a training ride, but thwarted in my tracks by two determined daughters. They beat me in getting up at 5am and thereby ensuring my training ride had to be a far lower priority than sugar puffs, milk and medicines. Fair enough.
So, to pass the time I turned my hand to the craft of baking. Flapjacks; nectar in syrup and oats. A weekend treat, especially as biscuits, chocolate, sweets are off limits Monday to Friday. Quick mix of the ingredients and 20 minutes at 170c and the gooey, sticky loveliness was ready.
Eventually I was able to get out for a fast 19 miles circuit around Broadheath, which was but a mere warm up to this mornings mountain stage.
Sunday morning...
Clocks moved forward.The alarm clock sounds and I'm up with the larks. Actually I think the larks were still asleep. In real money I set off at 6am (7am British Summer Time). Thankfully Louisa and Milla decided that a bit more sleep and a lie in on Sunday was a good idea and I made haste, wolfing down a bowl of porridge and a mug of tea.
Climb, climb, climb...
Worcester to the Malvern Hills and back. 27.3 miles and a shed load of climbing. Excellent training for the ride to London. After reaching Malvern Link, the road starts a continual, inexorable climb up to Great Malvern where, following a brief respite on a short flat section, the road starts the climb up the Wyche Cutting, one of the road passes over the Malverns. This road is a steady drag, not too steep, with a few switchbacks - a really good test for the legs.
Make no bones about it, the Wyche is long and it hurts. The route has been used by the Tour of Britain professional cycle race.
The weather was stunning - a milky sun, rising through the morning mist of the Vale of Evesham. Beautiful views to my left, just about visible through the clouds of breath as I panted and struggled in a low gear. But I made it to the top without stopping.
Across to the Malvern Hills hotel where I had a sip of water and was rudely interrupted by two barking dogs, who were not pleased to see me and backed up everything I said in my last post!
A scary descent followed. I took it easily as there are so many potholes, though I have hit 45mp/h before on the same descent.
Not satisfied with climbing the Wyche Cutting once, I went up and over it for a second time before a fast descent through West Malvern and back over to Worcester.
The stats;
27.3 miles, average speed around 12mp/h (yes, this is slow, but you try cycling up the Malverns)
Climbing - ascent 701 metres. Let's put that into context, Skiddaw in the Lake District is 709m and Hellvelyn is 712m.
Calories burnt: 3,464
So, in two days I've done nearly 50 miles on the bike and a ton of climbing. All necessary training for the big ride to London and back.
Things I've noticed while riding;
1. Your fingers might warm up when riding in the chilly cold morning air, but your toes stay frozen. Time for some warmer socks.
2. Dogs are still cyclists' worst enemies.
3. An 'easy climb' is an oxymoron and a downright lie.
4. Descending may be quicker the climbing, but it is far more dangerous, demands more concentration and a change of underpants.
5. The UK's roads are in an absolutely terrible state, cracks, potholes, rough surfaces. Awful. You have to swerve so as not to hit them, and this is not good when there is an 18 wheel juggernaut bearing down on you.
6. I need more Sudocrem to stop chafing in the nether regions.
7. Cycling makes your hands tingle - pressure on the nerve at the base of the thumb, induced by white knuckle descents off the Malverns.
8. Cycling makes your meat and two veg go numb / frozen as well. Good job I have already had children. Next time I'll break it off and put it in my pocket.
9. I need two bowls of porridge - by the end of this ride I was starting to 'bonk' (run out of energy).
10. Shaven legs do not necessarily decrease drag or increase speed, but do help you look as if you dress in drag at the weekends..
Blog post finished. Now where's that cup of tea and who has eaten all the flapjacks? Louisa....?
See you soon,
Tony.
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