Diagnosis: Fanatic

fa•nat•i•cal  /fəˈnatikəl/
Adjective:   

1.   Filled with excessive and single-minded zeal.
2.   Obsessively concerned with something.

This is a strong word, and one which has many negative connotations. However when I recently went to the doctor and had to see a locum this word came up. I was at the doctor’s to get a referral to a therapist for my decreasing ability to cope with even the smallest after shock. We had a quick chat, there was some discussion of my Chronic Fatigue diagnosis and a very brief chat about how I’ve coped with it. From this the Dr gleaned enough about me to write in his referral letter to the therapist “Fortunately she is an enthusiastic, if not fanatical cyclist…” He gave me a copy of the letter and I laughed rather loudly at this description. He was of course worried he’d offended me, which he hadn’t. I am proudly fanatical. I dream about biking, I do it almost every day in one form or another. It is my medication and currently my salvation. And I know I’m not alone in this.

Yes, I was as cold as it looks.

I’ve recently been enjoying more cycling in Central Otago with a day spent riding the gondola at Bob’s Peak again, for my birthday. It was brilliant. I even rode another black diamond track, Thingamagig, which was super steep, swoopy and incredibly fun. I really wanted to ride the Majestic Thingamagig in the middle, but the risk vs. reward equation wasn’t quite right for me. After another stunning day riding my bike down a hill (with one little burst of up hill – OMG steep! – to see what the uphill in the Super D Enduro will be like) I finished my ride with a brief and shocking plunge into New Zealand’s deepest and coldest lake. It felt great.
It was a couple of days later when my legs had stopped hurting sufficiently to ride again that I discovered why my brakes seemed a little off by the end of the day. Ooops.

Surely those holes mean they'll work better? Oh wait!

Since returning to Shakey Town I haven’t managed to do a much riding, but I’m rectifying that now. I had a great ride with ma chickas on Sunday, which inspired me to get out yesterday and tackle Kennedy’s Bush. It was a grey day, which a front menacing throughout the climb. My legs were strong and I couldn’t help but test them to their fullest by pushing the biggest gear I’ve managed yet up the steep road. I continued this theme up the front of the hill and then the 4wd track. After a rather sedate, cow avoiding run down Siberia Flats I discovered that my legs were not going to put up with this treatment for much longer. Up the next climb it was a bit of a struggle and I took the opportunity where it levels briefly to socialise with the Belted Galloways. I almost ended having to modestly turn away as the frisky bull decided to take his mating rights. Fortunately Mrs Cow wasn’t having a bar of it and shoved him away before continuing grazing. He wasn’t put out, grass must be damn good.

Happy family pastoral scene

After almost reaching the top I decided the approaching front was getting a little too close and I was woefully unprepared for cold weather and rain so headed back down. Time to book the bike in to get my brakes bled, as my front lever kept journeying to my grip on the trip down. Oooops again. 

The view from Kennedy's Bush is why it's my favourite climb

The ride down the Crocodile was very fun with the corners having been widened, but many of them had large holes in the apex which made for a bit of a challenge. I managed to get home just as the rain came with legs feeling happily toasted. I definitely need to do more of this!

In other news, I’ve managed to get roped into helping with the rather awesome Lyttelton Urban DH race that’s happening on the 24th of March. I’m really enjoying been involved with such an exciting race and entries are coming in now. Wyn Masters has signed up, as has local favourite Nathan Rennie. It should be amazing to spectate with huge jumps and gaps, and all sorts of crazy stuff. Check out the blog I’m writing for more info. http://lytteltonurbandh.blogspot.co.nz/

Gross, that is all!

And finally, for those of you who read Bike Snob's brilliant blog, you'll know that he often refers to pants yabbies. If you've never been aquainted with the creature we colloquially call a yabbie here in NZ, here is one I caught while fishing on the Poolburn Dam. I think you'll agree that if your pants yabbies looked anything like this hideous thing you'd be off to the doctors and definitely still a virgin!

The first day of summer

Yesterday was the first day of summer and I decided to celebrate and to signal my intentions to karma, that this year I shall ride my bike a lot over the summer months. This is because over the last 3 years I have not ridden my bike much at all over the summer months.

26th of December 2008 – nasty broken elbow requiring surgery and subsequent 3 month recovery. No riding.
22nd December 2009 – high speed crash on the Bowenvale 4wd track resulting in sprained ribs front and back. Very little riding for 2 months and all of it painful.
19th December 2010 – mystery tummy bug which mutates into pleurisy (WTF!) and then becomes chronic fatigue syndrome. No riding, walking and very little being out of bed for 5 months.

This summer will be different. There will be so much riding done I will have ridiculous tan lines and calves of doom! I will not be injured or fall ill. I will ride my bikes.

Zealous rant over, I’ll compose myself now.

So yesterday, being sunny and gorgeous, seemed the perfect day to get out on the bike and see what my legs had in them. After all it is only three weeks till the longest day ride when I’ll be riding from 5.45am till 9.11pm to raise money for Arthritis New Zealand. Go here to donate money to my cause I’ll publicly proclaim my undying admiration for you right here on this blog!
http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011
 
I’ve worked out I’ll be riding at least 120kms over the insane 15 ½ hour period so a little warm up ride would be in order. I decided a jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush, along the Summit Rd, down Gebbies Pass, back to Tai Tapu and back into town, home. The plan was to stop at the Blue Duck Café in Motakarara for some lunch and a nice flat sift home. Of course you know what they say about the best laid plans.

In the glorious sun I really enjoyed my first full ride up Kennedy’s Bush in a year. My legs felt good and I took it easy knowing I had a long ride ahead of me. That said I made the decision near the top that I would ride all of the tricky steep last section. And amazingly I did. Sure I had to stop 5 times, 4 because of exploding lungs and legs, once because of poor line choice; but I did ride the whole thing. Something I’ve only ever done one other time in the 5 years I’ve been riding that track. Now my aim is to the ride the whole thing without stopping before winter comes.

The top of Kennedy's Bush

At the top I stopped to enjoy the singing of the Skylarks, the smell of the broom in bloom and the view over the city to the Alps. Plus a well-earned roast beef sandwich. Then it was back in the saddle and out to the road for the long tarmac section of my ride. There was still plenty of climbing to do before I got to drop down to Gebbies Pass, but I really enjoyed it. Especially since last time I rode this section of the Summit Rd it was completely fogged in and quite scary with no visibility. http://ilovetobikelots.blogspot.com/2010/02/touring-very-serious-preparations.html

Time for a sammich

I stopped briefly at one of my favourite places on the Port Hills, Sign of the Bellbird, to eat the rest of my sandwich and a nut bar to fortify me till my planned lunch stop at Motakarara. I was so relieved to see the ruins of the old tearooms still standing and enjoyed my chat with an English couple visiting NZ. Then it was back on the bike and up and up and away. The drop down to Gebbies was brilliant, steep, tight and fast. Unfortunately on Gebbies itself I caught up to a fully loaded sheep truck so I was on the brakes with a nose full of stench the whole way down. Boo.

The view from the Summit Rd over Lyttleton Harbour, stunning.

At the bottom my tummy started rumbling and I began to fantasise about what sort of delicious treats I would avail myself of at the Blue Duck. As the tailwind pushed me along I tried not to think about the fact that it would be a gusty side/headwind once I turned for Tai Tap. As I pulled up to the intersection where the Blue Duck sits I was overjoyed to see a large number of vehicles parked outside it. I had had a sudden thought it might not be open as I got close. Relieved I pulled into the car park only to be greeted with a large “Closed till early December” notice on the door. All the vehicles were tradesmen refitting the café. Bollocks.

Inside the old tearooms at Sign of the Bellbird

 There was nothing else for it but to get back on my bike and head for Tai Tap. I knew I was in trouble though. I really needed food and another 10kms into a headwind was going to leave me feeling pretty rubbish. I kicked myself for not packing extra food, flicked my speedo to distance rather than painful time and got on my way. The ride to Tai Tap was not fun, however the ever distracting mental arithmetic of “If I’m currently going x k’s per hour and I have y k’s till food, then it will take me z minutes to get there, and that’s really not that long” kept me going. I’m sure many of you will have employed this technique in the wind.

I reached Tai Tap with screaming legs and feeling rather light headed and ordered myself sugary treats and a sugary beverage to power on for the last 20kms home. Sitting in the shade I was slightly disappointed, but not surprised, to note that I had gone past the point of being able to eat and struggled to get the food down. I ended up wrapping up my gorgeous looking double decker afghan (yup, I’m going through a phase) for later consumption.

Treats! Get in mai belleh!

The rest of the ride was a mental game over the pain, predominantly in my gluts. I had bonked, but was determined to make it home and employed that age old classic – making a deal – to do it. I told myself once I got to 50kms I could have a lie down and I did. Lying in the shade of gum trees on a stream bank was heaven. The air smelt of warmth and gum trees and water. I was almost glad I was so tired or I wouldn’t have got to enjoy this lovely moment. Back on the bike I slogged into the wind until I reached Halswell where I stopped for a Cola Popsicle in the shade. Just the last push I needed to get home.

It was a great fun ride, but I now know that the 22nd of December is going to wreck me good and proper. But it is for a good cause so I’m still up for it. And don’t forget – donate here http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011 If you’re a mountain biker carrying injuries, there’s a good chance you’ll need the services of Arthritis NZ in the future. I know I will.

Racing? Sort of.

On Sunday I did my first "race" in 18 months. It was the final of the CSC's Short Track series and it was so fun. Held on Siberia Flat on Kennedy's Bush it was 20 minutes of lung searing, leg smashing awesome and I was super stoked with how I went. And when I say how I went I don't mean where I got in the race (I was lapped by a child), but how my body felt during and after. This was the first time in aaaagggeesss that I really pushed my body as hard as I could and on the start line I didn't really know what would happen. In fact I was quite prepared to pull the pin if things felt bad. I certainly didn't want to send myself back to being bed ridden.
I had a great ride at Bottlelake with a mate on Saturday and that gave me the confidence to push during the race. Saturday was a great blast with lots of hard out sprints and then some skills practice on the skinnies. It seems that my loss of fitness has meant that I'm now riding inside my skillset so that I'm actually feeling more confident on the bike than ever before. I feel I have control over what my bike is doing now, rather than just being along for the ride some of the time. And that's how it was on Sunday at the race.
The singletrack flew by. Andre at Hub Cycles has recently tuned up my suspension and my bike was running like a dream. It was super responsive through the singletrack, flowed down the bumpy down hill (even when I was blasting brake-free) and pedalled great back up the hill. I was aiming for 3 laps in my 20 mins so was really happy to easily get 4. In fact I think I might have almost squeezed 5 in if I hadn't stopped to help a fallen rider at the start for a couple of minutes.
And now I'm off to Hanmer to ride sweet sweet singletrack for 3 days, weather permitting. I have to say, looking out at the storm that's raging right now, there may be a lot of sitting in hot pools and doing homework and less riding than I would like.

Tragedy – unexpected breakages

When I got the Anthem one of the first things I did was replace the seat, and not just with any old seat. With a beautiful colour co-ordinated and light Specialized Ariel. I loved this seat. It looked amazing and felt great to ride. Every time I got my bike out of the garage it would greet me and make me smile, inviting me to get on and ride and ride. Then I went for a little superman over my bars onto the road and split my chin open. I thought the damage was solely to my fast healing body, I was wrong. Riding into the bike shop to pick up new, bloodless gloves I noticed a pronounced lean to the right. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and hoped desperately that my wonderful seat was not stuffed. Alas, it was. Rails terribly bent.

The lovely mechanic at the Hub did his best to straighten them and the seat was rideable. My hopes soared and I headed up the hills for my planned 2.5 hrs. By the top of Rapaki I knew all was not well and had severe pain in places no one ever wants pain. By the time I made it home things were grim and I knew I had to get a new seat. Not good news given my destitute financial state.

There was only one thing for it. Time to sell my possessions! Used my gift for silliness I whipped up an ad for my spare couch and threw it on trademe. In no time I had hundreds of page views and loads of watchers. Unfortunately that didn’t turn into loads of bidders, but I got enough money to cover the cost of a new seat and some race entry fees. Yay.


The lovely Andrew at the Hub tracked me down a new seat (not as fabulous looking as my old seat) and had it ready for me to pick up in time for a ride on the dry tracks at the weekend. My butt (and other regions) were happy again and I spent a rather blusterous 3hrs riding up Kennedy’s (only got blown off three times), up Marleys, down Flying Nun (sketchy in the wind), up to the Traverse and across it (only blown off twice) and then for the first time up Mt Vernon. Mt Vernon was great, expect for the walkers who couldn’t hear me calling over the wind and then informed me that’d like to see me fall off cause that would be funny. I personally didn’t find this very amusing.

The wind took its toll on my and I headed down Rapaki, ruing the fact Old Bownevale wasn’t open and Rapaki was sooooo boring. Luckily I had the wind behind me and the way home and helped my tired legs over the Cashmere Downs. I was completely smashed and happy with it. I’m pretty stoked to be able to do long rides this early in the year. I’ll be sending my entry off to the McLeans 6hr this week. Yay!

Mid winter creativity

Hello my lovely readers! I am in a very cheerful moodas I have just finished creating my magnum opus, a short film about Ground Effect's wonderful clothes and just how many items from their catelogue I have. What inspired this burst of film making? Well one of the lovely Ground Effect employees got in touch with me and asked if they could us my stop motion of the jacket and pants packing themselves on their soon to be released youtube site. They also liked this very blog so in the future you may find some of my previous posts gracing the Ground Effect stalkbook page. If you haven't visit that page, go here and 'Like' them. I could waffle on further about the riding I've been doing and how Aspire is still going well, although I am a bit bored of it right now and would like some chocolate, but instead I'll just put my video up. Thanks Ground Effect for making Oarsum clothing that gets me out in all weather.

What a difference a week makes!

My last post didn’t talk much about week 4 of Aspire and that was because I was feeling completely down about the whole thing when I wrote it. Luckily my lack of weight loss didn’t make me want to throw in the towel, it just made me want to try harder. For me last week was all about getting out on my bike in the sun. Yep, there were multiple sunny days last week and I put them to good use with a lovely roadie ride out to Tai Tap, a wee jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush Rd in middle chain ring and some absolutely fantastic Nun repeats.

It was a pretty busy week, being a short one and I was determined to eat properly and focus on how my body reacted to higher intensity exercise now that I wasn’t feeling so hungry all the time. My roadie ride was great. I focussed on keeping a nice high cadence the whole ride and after an hour I got home feeling good and strong. I wasn’t ravenous either, but I certainly enjoyed my poached eggs that day. The next day I headed up Kennedy’s Bush Rd to see if I still had the stamina to get up the road in my middle chain ring. I won’t lie, I had to rest at the crest of the first hill as I was panting like a dog, but I was soon on my way and made to the gate at the top of the seal without dropping into grannies. Yes! My stamina is slowly coming back as my body adapts to getting less fuel in. Unfortunately I had pretty much stuffed myself for much more riding and after attacking the first section of 4wd track and discovering that the next section was not only incredibly muddy, but exposed to the nasty wind, I decided to head home for some food.

Saturday was the CSC’s end of year function and I was flat out all day. I was helping Roscoe prepare a gift for Craig and Rebekah and had to get up early to get last minute supplies. As I was driving back from town in the sun I decided that the weather was too good to waste and I would have to head out for laps of the Nun since it might not be open again for weeks. This was the right decision. The track was in perfect condition. No standing water, pretty dry, but just tacky enough to provide fantastic traction and running so smooth it was heaven. I only had an hour to get up there ride and get home before heading to the hall to help set up and I managed to get 2 runs in. I so wanted to do more, but it was not to be. The rest of the day and the evening flew by in a blur, although I did managed to completely resist the lure of Spag’s pizza’s and have a healthy dinner that night.

My busy week has paid dividends and I’ve now lost another whole kg since my last weigh in last Tuesday bringing my total for 6 weeks to 3.5kgs. I’m very happy with that, but I’m happier with the progress my fitness is making. The mini-work outs I’ve been doing at home are starting to benefit my riding with my upper body strength finally coming back and my core strength increasing. I’m looking forward to this week and getting out riding more. I feel like I’ve got over the hump now and the next 6 weeks of Aspire are going to be great.

Short Track Lessons

Sunday was the final short track race for the year, and under a gloomy grey sky it was the funnerest (yes, that’s a word) one yet. I was hoping to finally break that magic 5 lap mark in my 20 allotted minutes and not to feel like it was time for lung replacement surgery after the race. Amazingly I achieved both these goals and now feel qualified to pass on the important lessons I learnt from these 3 races. Note that these lessons apply specifically to the Kennedy’s Bush course, which I like to think of as my own since it’s where I learnt to ride my bike properly.

Lesson 1: First at first isn’t a recipe for first
Or in actual english, just because I can get the hole shot (or get into the singletrack first) doesn’t mean I should. In the first race I didn’t get the hole shot, poor line position, but was in the top 3 and had to work really hard through the singletrack. In the second race I went all out and got the hole shot and then proceeded to explode as I went far too hard on the singletrack again. In the third race I went out hardish, was in second, actively took it easy through the first bits of singletrack and hit the hill climb with lungs still intact.

Lesson 2: Lungs help you breathe
Sure this seems self-evident, especially to cyclists, however when you’re out on the short course and you’ve got that big hit of adrenalin off the start line and all you can think is “GO AS FAST AS YOU CAN” you can forget this. In fact you can almost disregard it, and that’s what I did in the first two races by taking my lungs out of my chest on the first lap and leaving lying at the bottom corner of the course. It was very irresponsible of me and made it extremely difficult to finish the race. In the third race I looked after my poor fragile lungs and they looked after me. Nary a cough was heard after the third race.

Lesson 3: Spin for the win
Well, not the win, overall anyway. Well, a win of sorts, for me personally. Anyway, the first two races I pushed a big gear up the hill because I could, for the first 3 laps anyway. It hurt and was hard, but I didn’t go fast and got progressively slower through those races. The last race I dropped down into my baby chainring on the first lap and spun up the hill as fast as pushing a bigger gear. On the second lap I spun up faster than pushing a bigger gear and on laps 3, 4 and 5 I got faster each lap rather than slower.

Lesson 4: I like to go downhill
Well duh! Not so much of a lesson this one, more a bit of showing off. I went down that course fast. As fast ,and in some cases faster, than the sport guys. It was really, really fun and I want to do it again and again and again.

Lesson 5: There’s nothing like support
A good sports bra is mandatory. No, that's not what I meant to say. I ride recreational, but that doesn’t mean I’m not competitive. I’m out to push myself as hard as I can. For me it’s not about winning, it’s about improving and I do take these things pretty seriously (blush). Having people cheer you on is great. I loved having all the people cheering me on and heckling on Sunday, it made me go faster. Having the 3 races one after the other means there’s always plenty of spectators on hand to yell support no matter which category you’re racing in.

Lesson 6: Not all pain is good
Burning, jelly legs are good. Burning, jelly lungs are not good. Flopping down because you’ve expended all your energy and your legs don’t work is good. Flopping down because you can’t breath is not good. Flopping down on gorse, matagauri or rocks is not good.

I loved the short course series. I’m not a sprinter, and I never will be, but I loved every pain filled insanely fun minute of it. We had lots of people along to these races who all looked like they were hating it during the races (especially the uphill bit) but were all grinning and laughing on the finish line, so hopefully there will be more in the future. Huge thanks to Craig and Rebekah at the Christchurch Singletrack Club for organising these races.

From one extreme to another

All the training I’ve been doing seems to have had a strange effect on my mind and I’ve started to develop a disturbing masochistic streak. It was this fascination with pain which lead me to get my dust covered bike back out of its secure and restful home and take it up Kennedy’s Bush. To race again. The day after doing the Molesworth. Really really fast. I was basically saying “Yes, the Molesworth hurt me a lot, but I’m feeling a tiny bit better, please can I have some more pain”! What has happened to me??!!

Pinning it and grinning into the tight corner at the bottom of the singletrack

It was a beautiful sunny day and the track is my favourite little piece of singletrack for descending. The laps were short, it was Short Track racing after all, and most importantly I only had to ride for 20 minutes. Surely I could handle that, even after the Molesworth. I was running late so ended up riding harder up the hill to get to the start than I intended. I was surprised that my legs weren’t feeling too bad. There weren’t many of us in the Recreational division, so we lined up on the start line and I decided to give it absolutely everything I had for the first lap and see what happened. I managed to get into 3rd into the singletrack and was keeping up with the guys in the front the whole way through the descent, yay madcore skills, but as soon I hit the climb the rest of the boys streamed past me and I was hurting. This was a very very stupid idea. I managed to stay in my middle ring and cranked out the first lap in good time. Into the 2nd lap and I could tell it was all over. Managed to push fairly hard through the singletrack, but backed off a little in a couple of places to try and get my breath back. Up the farm track and things were bad, still stayed in middle ring but vision was going blurry and all the pain from yesterday was back in my legs and had found some new friends to add to the party.

Third lap was just a blur of pain, descending still good, hoping not to get lapped. Managed to hold the boys off on the climb and was back into the singletrack for my last lap. Pinned my ears back and went for it down the track and found my legs had absolutely nothing in them for the climb and was quickly lapped by the leaders. Down into grannies to crawl over the line at the top. Knew I was broken so didn’t use the last 3.5 mins to flog myself unconscious. I just lay face down on the ground with my shaking legs and blades of grass up my nose. It was very very fun and very very sore (the racing, not the blades of grass – they were just a bit tickly). Next week I’ll have fresher legs and hopefully put on a better effort.

The Sport category only had 3 entrants which was a bit of a poor showing. They still flogged themselves ragged around the short course for 25 minutes. Then was the Expert race and it was looking to be a goodie. With Anton Cooper, Oliver Whalley (complete with lovely belt driven singlespeed ventana), Craig Tregurtha, Kyle Wood, Sara Taylor and even Craig Sharratt lining up to push each other to the limit. With a field of 11 the race was extremely fast and furious with Anton completing laps in a scorching 2mins 20 secs per lap! It was a brilliant race to watch. With the course being so short and having a few technical challenges for the over-enthusiastic it was great to see the amazing skills of these fast talented riders, all pushing their limits. It was almost as much fun watching this race as it was racing in mine. I can’t wait till next week, and if you’re in Christchurch next Sunday I’d highly recommend you come along for a look and maybe a race (especially if you’re of the female persuasion), they’re only short!
Check out: http://www.singletrack.org.nz/event-calandar/short-track-series/

I’ve Done a Big Ride

With the help of friends and K Bars

Yesterday, with the help and support of friends, I achieved a long held goal. To bike from Kennedy’s Bush to Taylor’s Mistake and out to Sumner in one day. For me this is an epic ride. Sure I’ve biked further and I’ve ridden for longer and I’ve done more climbing, but not on technical, rocky tracks, some of which I’ve never been on before. It was hard, but it was fun and today I’m shattered, more so than I was last night.

Knowing that this was going to be a big day I started out conservatively and eased up Kennedy’s Bush. We had to stop just before the last climb and adjust my brakes which were misbehaving. I opted to skip the Nun, not wanting to blow out from the climbing and nervous of riding it on my cross country beast. I, of course, regretted this when everyone else came flying out grinning, but I had enjoyed the second half of the Nun so all was not lost.

After a water stop at the Kiwi we headed up the hill to the Traverse and it flowed so sweetly. The bike was handling well and even though I don’t ride the Traverse in that direction often it was brilliant. We opted to spin round the road to Castle Rock from here as none of us, especially me, were too keen on scaling Vernon or Witch Hill. I’ve never ridden Castle Rock before and it was fantastic. Rocky, but flowing, not too fast and but fast enough that you can glide over everything. I loved it, and it gave my newly strong arm muscles a really good work out. I zoomed over rocks and down little drops, flowed round switchback corners and powered up and over rocks on the climb out. By the end of it I was grinning madly, as usual, and felt like all the Nun repeats had taught me so much about bike handling over rocks. I was really surprised how not-scary it was on the short travel bike. I’ve definitely learnt a lot from riding with scatter about letting my body do some of the suspension work. I’m very lucky to have such talented and patient women to ride with!

From there it was a climb round the road to John Britten, another piece of track I’d never ridden. Unfortunately I was so excited by my great ride at Castle Rock that I didn’t realise I was actually bonking from lack of food. That was until I went over my bars on a relatively flat bit of track in John Britten. Of course I did this right in front of my poor husband who was very worried because the crash looked rather spectacular. I was fine, as I’d landed in a nice soft patch of thistles, but it was then I realised how wobbly I’d become. We inched our way to Greenwood and caught up with Scatter and Slim and I devoured a sandwich (roast chicken and parsnip FTW) and a bit of K-Bar that the wonderful Scatter had kindly given me.

After this brief fuel and chat stop we were off and I was like a new rider. I cleaned everything! I was riding more confidently than before and was able to pick good lines and lift my front wheel up things I couldn’t before. The Anthem is made for tracks like Greenwood Park and held its speed really well which allowed me to tackle all the bits that scared the bejesus out of me last time I was here. My arms got even more of a work out and it turns out my front forks did too. When we stopped at Evan’s Pass for an ice cream, (ICE CREAM!! The ice cream truck is coming!), I discovered I’d blown the seals in my right stanchion of my forks and oil was pissing out. Booo. Luckily it wasn’t the left or it would have been ride over with oil on my front disk. After an ice cream in the sun we headed up Godley and I did a fair bit of pushing in the first section. I was feeling pretty shattered by now, but was still able to ride a few of the rocky bits. Once it levelled out it was all good and we were zooming off grinning. At the bottom of this section Scatter and I sensibly elected to sift around the road, as our little legs were feeling the burn, while the boys were all tough and climbed the singletrack.

At the bottom of that section of singletrack some engineering works were required to prevent someone killing themselves on the cattlestop that had disintegrated and we met up with Rita, who was having flat tyre troubles.

Then it was onto the Anaconda. So very sweet and flowy. All the pain was worth it as we flew down. Unfortunately Rita’s tyre troubles were passed to Slim and he had to pause to replace his tube. The Anaconda was riding brilliantly and I was very happy indeed. At the bottom I lay on the grass smiling and trying not to think about the climb out of Taylors. We were pretty happy campers, laughing at the stupid lowered cars scrapping over the speed bumps. I was surprised how good I still felt and as we spun up the hill, it didn’t hurt quite the way I thought it was going to. Flying down the other side I got to bed my brakes in really well as the traffic was crawling along.

For me it was an epic ride. And it was a dusty ride. We were out for just over 6 hours, and for me that was 4 hours of riding. Although it was only 40kms for me, the others are harder than me and rode home while I scrounged a ride from Rita, it was 40 bloody hard kms. Last time I set out to do an abridged version of this ride I broke my arm, this time it was fantastic. I’ve got my first race of the season next weekend and I honestly think I’m fitter than I’ve ever been. I’ve got muscles where once there was only flab, I’ve got confidence on technical tracks and I’ve the right bike for the job (once I get the forks fixed). I’m so excited about this summer’s riding I can hardly contain it!

Fitness gains are good

Once upon a time there was a lovely princess who was passionate about cycling. She wasn’t very fit though, and she was carrying a lot of extra weight. Luckily for her, the fabulous thing about cycling is the more you do it, the better you get. The princess was blessed to live in an enchanted land full of hills and valleys and trails aplenty for riding her bicycle on. Initially the princess was quite intimidated by these enchanting tracks, but with the help of her handsome prince and some neighbouring princesses she overcame her fears and began to acquire magical biking powers. To her delight she became strong and a lot of her cuddly layers disappeared.

At the start of this blog I was larger and not very confident, now things are different!

Ok, I think everyone gets the point of this story now, it’s not a fairytale, but it does have all the joy a fairytale can bring (a Disney one, not the cool menacing old school ones where all the children get eaten alive). As you can see from the photo’s above I’ve definitely lost a fair amount of flab since starting this blog, but more importantly I’ve really improved my fitness a lot. This year I’ve been using my roadbike in a more structured way to try and improve my cadence, rather than just heading out on longish rides and not paying any attention to the quality of the ride. I’ve been doing a couple of lunchtime rides out to Sumner during the week, which is a nice 30km spin and each ride my average rpm has improved. On Saturday I headed out for a 2.5hr mtb ride with DirtDiva which tootled to Rapaki and then up it (much like last weekend), then across the Traverse and up the road to Kennedy’s Bush and down to home. A nice 37km trip in the sun. The reason I’m writing about this ride is a couple of amazing things happened on the ride.

As we headed up Rapaki we were going at a fairly good pace, but not really pushing it, until DirtDiva zoomed off ahead of me on the steeper final section. I looked at my speedo and realised that if I dug in I could probably get to the top in under 30 minutes, for the first time ever. So I took off after her and really pushed it. It hurt, but all those roadie rides paid off and I got to the top in 28mins 51 secs! I was over the moon. I was also a little light headed, but I recovered really quickly and we headed up the road to the Traverse. Amazingly my legs felt fantastic and as we cruised round the road they felt better and better. By the time we hit the Traverse I was ready to tackle it at speed, which I did. Happy sigh. It was fantastic and with my front fork set up properly, thanks lovely husband, I was faster than a speeding bullet (well, not really, but really fast).

Then over to Kennedy’s and down. With my suspension set up properly it was great, which was good because my back brakes aren’t really working well at the moment. We then headed up the little bit of singletrack on Kennedy’s and to my surprise my legs still felt strong. Then down the front and down the Crocodile. Trail pixies had been hard at work, Thank You!, and the track was flowing well. My cornering was really good, despite the lack of rear braking power and then we were done.

Last year this ride, even when I was fit, was hard work and left me feeling broken for days. This year I’m fit enough that this ride left me tired, but not broken and amazingly I am really enjoying climbing now. So much so that I’m going to take my bike up Rapaki again on Tuesday and see if I can knock a bit more time off my pb! In fact I’m hungry for bigger, harder rides this summer, the Poulter, Double Fenceline, Wharfdale, and Craigieburn have all been riders that I’ve read about and known I wasn’t strong enough to tackle them, but this summer will be different. Wahoo! I can’t wait.

Snake charming is the perfect end

Before I get into this blog post I just want to briefly acknowledge how sad I was to read Fat Cyclist’s blog post of the 5th of August, letting us know his courageous and amazing wife had finally succumbed to the cancer she had been fighting so long. His blog has been an inspiration to me for a long time and now. WIN Fatty!

Anyway onto happier things, such as the stunning weekend we just had in Christchurch, in fact I believe most of this glorious country experienced fantastic sunny weather this weekend. For me this meant a weekend of boundary pushing. It started well on Friday evening with a quick jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush. It was a bit nippy out and I stupidly was only wearing shorts and a short sleeved top with a woolie singlet under it. The icy wind was whipping off Lake Ellesmere, so I had to work extra hard to just stay warm. We hammered up pretty quickly and I revelled in the 1 minute singletrack descent at the halfway point as usual. Further up I was distracted by the cute hairy cows again and almost feel off my bike laughing as one stumbled down a bank in front of me. It looked completely drunk! We got to the last steep climb and the sun was setting behind the Alps and the wind was really picking up. I pushed my freezing body as hard as I could, but I was just so cold. I stopped and put my extra warm Ice Queen on, but the damage was done, I was just too cold now. Didn’t quite make it to the top, but enjoyed the breath-taking sunset and then headed down out of the biting wind. It was getting quite dark now and I found it an interesting battle between the part of my brain that was saying “Oi! Slow down, it’s dark, you can’t really see the ruts” and the part of my brain that was saying “Faster, faster, faster, it’s cold, get out of the wind”. It turns out the go faster part won, it often does, and I flew down the hill, till I got back to the hairy cows. They were arrayed across the track and in the dying light the seemed much more receptive to patting. I couldn’t resist stopping and patting the cute baby cow with the floppy fringe while it’s gorgeous mum licked the salt off my leg. Of course this delay meant it was even darker by the time we got to the singletrack on the front of the hill. I was adamant I would be sensible and ride the 4wd track down but as my lovely husband zoomed down the singletrack I just had to follow him. I know this track well and really wanted to try riding it in the gloomy fading light. It was fun. I was grinning at the bottom. At fantastic ride, if only there had been more hot water when we got home.

Saturday was a stunner, if a bit blusterous. I’d checked if it was ok to ride at Living Springs and been given the go ahead so hubby and I went and picked up Rita and headed over. The track was in excellent condition, with only one really wet patch right at the very bottom of Zanes. Unfortunately I didn’t see it till too late of my first lap and end up sliding along the bank at high speed and being completely coated in mud on one side! Ooops. I daintily walked this section the next lap. My legs weren’t very happy on the climbs, apparently the previous night’s hammering at Kennedy’s had left them slightly tired so riding up the steep tractor-chewed 4wd track wasn’t super good, or to be honest, good at all. Once into the singletrack things were much better and it was beautiful climbing up the switchbacks through the trees.

The descent was completely fantastic. Lots of tight corners, flowy sections and challenging pinches. And all in the beautiful yellow glowing light. One section of track was completely covered in leaves and riding through there was magical. I really loved riding the track, in fact so much so that I was willing to take on the horrible climb a second time. The second time hurt bad going up, even the climb through the forest wasn’t fun for me this time. But it was worth it and I was grinning madly at the end. A stop at the Governor’s Bay pub on the way home for beer, wedges and cake capped off at great ride.

Ahhh, SUNday. Even better weather than Saturday, no nasty wind. Really, what I should have been doing was some sifty, flat riding to recover from the two previous high intensity days. But the hills were bathed in warm sunlight and I was aching (well I am today) to ride the tracks I’d so recently walked, Greenwood Park, Godley Head (argh!) and the beautiful Anaconda. Cunningly I planned to drive up to the top and Mt Pleasant Rd so I could ride Greenwood with my legs as fresh as possible, not very fresh it turns out. More like a bit of one day old bread that’s been left on the bench in the sun. Uh, oh. It was just me and scatter, and as we wound our way around the hill and through the rocks we were very happy. I rode better than expected and finally mastered the art of floating up rocky bits while still pedalling. There were only a few sections on Greenwood that I walked and only one pedal-into-rock-stopping-bike-suddenly incident (which was just amusing rather than painful). I loved Greenwood Park and can’t wait to ride it again. Lots of challenges, but soooo much fun.

Then we were onto the dreaded Godley Head track with its initial rocky death wall (as I call it). I was pretty tired already and knew that there would be a lot of pushing my bike up rocks. And there was, but there was also more riding my bike up rocks than expected which made me very happy. Then we were through that really tough section and out onto the flowy, and recently well armoured, sections, hooning over the boardwalks and generally having a great time. The descent back down the other side of the hill was so flowy and fast I was grinning and laughing. And then suddenly I was laughing even harder when I hit a rut at the bottom and gracefully crashed in slow motion, coming to rest on my side, fully stretched out up on my elbow as if I was reclining on a chaise longue and one foot still attached to my bike. It was hilarious, and luckily a rider coming the other way got to enjoy the spectacle I’d made of myself because a crash like that needs to be seen and enjoyed by others. He congratulated me on my grace and amusingness, which I thought was nice of him.

Then finally we were at the top of the Anaconda. This serpentine track winds down to Taylor’s Mistake and has become truly brilliant in the last couple of years. Oh, I’ve been wanting to ride this for a long time now. It was so good, the big bermed corners encouraging speed, the little groms pushing their bikes up – stunned to see two chicks riding down it at top speed, the sun and sea sparkling and then, too soon, it was over. And the ride was over and our ride was there to pick us up and take me back up to my car. Thanks Slim!

It was a fantastic weekend of pushing my skills and fitness to the limit in great company and I loved it all, even when it hurt, even when I had to lie down and eat a banana cause I couldn’t move any further and even when I stuffed up bits of track and had to walk them. I’m very glad I have yoga tonight because I’ve got aches and pains in new and exciting places and need a damn good stretching. Bring on more sunny weather!

Different toys for different playgrounds

Disclaimer: There will be yet more rhapsodising about the Anthem in this post. I am still in the honeymoon phase after all.

I’ve noticed a trend in MTB magazines recently to expound the virtues of longer travel trail bikes as the answer to everyone’s biking needs. One bike for everything. In fact this was the sales-pitch I got when I bought the XLT. I went in wanting something that climbed well, descended ok and was good for racing, and something fairly light. Also I didn’t know anything about bikes at this stage. I feel in love with the XLT, but I probably didn’t need the 130mm travel at the front and 125mm travel out the back. Or the extra weight. . (Just for comparison the Anthem has 100mm at the front and 80mm at the back and weighs a few of kilos less). But I didn’t know any better and was instantly in love with the bike, especially when I took the tractor tyres off it.

Over the years I’ve climbed and descended on this bike and it’s given me the confidence to try new scary things because it’s really forgiving. It seemed to climb well enough and I was always left with a big silly grin after any descent. I could jump stuff and do easy downhill tracks, and bulldoze over obstacles and generally have great fun. I know that this bike is a lot of the reason I’ve developed more skills in the last couple of years. It inspires confidence and it has looked after me. But in all that time I’ve never ever been able to ride the top, steep rocky bit of Kennedy’s Bush. Sure some of that has been my fitness, but on Saturday I learnt that mainly the problem was the XLT just doesn’t like climbing.

On Saturday I’d offered to show Rita the Crocodile and Kennedy’s Bush. Last year I’d really come to think of the Crocodile as my nemesis. Riding down it was fantastic, I really like switchbacks, but climbing up it; horrible. Five tight, steep switchbacks in quick succession, nicely rutted and right at the very start of ride that usually set the tone for the ride. Over exertion, followed by jelly legs and blurred vision. From then on it would be a battle for traction in the switchbacks and often my front wheel would just wander off and I’d have to walk. This would make me lose confidence and by the top I would usually be an unhappy camper. I was pretty apprehensive about riding it, especially in early August, usually I don’t get the courage up to tackle this beast till September.

Up we went and I knew pretty quickly that I didn’t have the fitness for this yet, but surprisingly I did have the traction and as I went on I cleaned all the corners that I’d been washing out on last year. We got to the top of the Croc and I was stuffed, but I was still smiling. The rest of the climb up Kennedy’s was a world of hurt, but where in the past I just wouldn’t have been able to keep turning the pedals over on the XLT, on the Anthem I could just keep moving.

Then something truly amazing happened. We got to the base of the last bit of nasty steep climb, where it turns all rocky and gross. I sat down and looked up. This bit of hill has taunted me from the start and I have never ridden to the top. Based on past experience and my complete and utter exhaustion I expected this to be the case again, but I thought I’d give it a go and see just how much better at climbing the Anthem is. It is riding-to-the-top-of-Kennedy’s-when-stuffed much better. I rode the whole thing! Sure I had to stop every minute or so, but once I’d caught my breath I could keep going and the bike gripped and let me spin and then I was at the top, collapsed in the heap, but feeling insanely triumphant!

Going down was hard work, I’m glad I’ve had a couple of years on the XLT to learn how to ride scary stuff and use my body position and suspension to ride good lines and be stable, because I needed all that knowledge to handle the Anthem on the descents. I felt like my arms were going to shake off and my elbow was popping audibly after the bone jarring ride down (yes, I could have taken it slower, but where’s the fun in that?). I won’t go on about the incredible cornering sweetness of the flowing descent but down the Croc, but oh, it was sooooo good. So for me a quiver of bikes is the right way to go. Roadie for training and raining. Singlespeed for Bottlelake and Mclean’s Island in the sand and mud and flatishness (yes, that’s a word) and skinnies. XLT for shuttles and learning scary things and riding new technical tracks (and building strength lugging its fat arse up hills). Anthem for races and climbing and fast runs on familiar tracks. They are all great and they all give me something different and each of those things makes me ride better and have more fun. One bike to rule them all? No thanks, I’ll have four.

Late edit: The lovely boys at hub cycles have come through for me and got me this lovely new seat to save my sit bones. Look how perfectly it matches my bike. The guys at Hub rock!

Surprise Present

Sometimes things happen that really make me think the concept of karma isn’t entirely flawed. One of those things happened to me this week when I received an email from my beloved husband entitled Mountain Bike for Sale. I was intrigued by this as we had agreed there would be no new bikes for me for quite a long time, well at least the next couple of years, unless I actually got off my butt and trained for something truly Epic. I’m not training for something truly Epic as I want to have the freedom to ride different stuff if the mood takes me, rather than long endurance rides come hell or high water. So what could possibly be in this email? A new singlespeed for my husband, perhaps? No, a woman’s cross-country bike. A bike made for racing. A 2007 Giant Anthem. As I read the list of parts on the bike I became at once both excited and apprehensive. Surely this quality of bike would be well beyond my means. And then I saw the price and immediately picked up the phone to make sure my husband wasn’t teasing me. It was a bargain.

Emails were sent, times were arranged and on Saturday I picked it up to take it for a few test rides. Simply riding it on around the lawn I knew I wanted it. By the time we got it home and I took it for a very very fast blast up Kennedy’s Bush Rd I was thinking of it as mine. It is light and fast, with lock outs on the front and rear shocks and a lot less suspension than my lovely Jamis. It goes up hills so well. I was grinning madly when I got home and looking forward to a proper ride up Kennedy’s in the mud.

The next day was sunny and again I got over excited on the road and zoomed up faster than ever before, too fast in fact because I was a bit pooped by the time we reached the dirt. Lifting the bike over the gate was so easy. Not the difficult and comedic struggle I’m used at all. Kennedy’s was very wet still and traction wasn’t great, but the bike felt good and was nimble so even we I started to spin out in the mud I could quickly change my line and find some grip. I almost enjoyed riding this bike up hill, but I was a bit nervous about heading down the wet slippery singletrack with less travel and unforgiving tyres. It went well enough and I was just starting to get the hang of the different geometry when a terrible stick-through-rear-derailleur-tragedy occurred up ahead and Michelle’s hanger broke. Thank goodness for soft breakable hangers. The derailleur seemed fine and was safely stowed in a backpack for the coast back down the hill.

The Anthem felt weird to me going down hill. I’m used to the squishy speedy descents the Jamis provides so I was pretty tentative on the Anthem. It was all good though and the Juicey 5 brakes were great, with good modulation and control. They were singing me an unpleasant song by the bottom so it might be time for new pads. It was a great ride, with the exception of the stick incident, and when I got home I transferred the money straight into the sellers account. So now I have 4 bikes, which does seem like a lot, but I love them all differently and can’t wait for race season to arrive. I can’t thank my lovely husband enough for this gift, it really has lifted my spirits immensely and given me more drive to race after this bleak, depressing winter.

Hmmmm, it’s wet and cold outside, what should I do?

The obvious answer is of course, ride your bike! I managed to do this on both Saturday and Sunday, despite nasty sou-westerly winds whipping off Antarctica, constant drizzle or rain and generally freezing temperatures. You see the thing about riding in winter is that if you let the miserable conditions get the best of you there will be little or no bicycle riding fun. The key to winter riding is preparedness, and I’m not just talking about the correct attire (although this is probably the most important aspect). I’ve already regaled you with my cold weather commuting attire for frosty mornings (thanks Ground Effect). My “disgusting, wet, windy, cold” riding gear isn’t too different. I’ll start from the bottom up and keep it brief, thick knee high merino socks, under leg warms under either lycra shorts with my downhill (water resistant) shorts or my GE baggies. Both these options give you 3 layers of coverage on the thighs which is most welcome in the wet and cold. Bottom half sorted, top half can be a bit trickier depending on the riding you are doing. Saturday we headed to Bottlelake – land of uber puddles, for a high intensity singlespeed blast. I knew I’d be working hard and sheltered by the trees most of the time so I went for a long sleeved merino only under my She Shell with pit zips fully opened (and the water resistant downhill short combo). This worked perfectly.

It was fairly wet, some showers interspersed with lovely Scottish mist (drizzle for those not of Celtic heritage) and the puddles were wide and in some cases much deeper than expected (crikey, my hubs seem to be under water!). We took off through the trees and headed towards the beach and on the way there I achieved a goal I’d set myself last weekend. I got all the way up the tip hill on my singlespeed. Yes. My first attempt a month ago saw me get a feeble third of the way up and last weekend I struggled three quarters of the way up. I was determined to conquer it on Saturday and managed to with much explosions of lungs and hauling on handle bars. It certainly wasn’t pretty, but I was happy once all the shiny stars went away. The rest of the ride was a hammerfest and by the end we were back in the carpark buggered and wet. My feet and lower legs were soaked most of the ride, but my feet didn’t get cold at all.

This is the point in the ride where the extra preparations are important. Always take dry socks and shoes, or in my case woolly slippers, when you know you’ll be driving home with wet feet. Also a layer of dry wool will be greatly appreciated and your upholstery will thank you for the provision of a towel. I myself carry a very lovely Singapore Airlines purple and blue tartan knee rug which is great for wrapping around cold legs and keeping mud off the seats.
On Saturday I was very happy to discover that once I removed my lovely Loeka shorts (as seen in this fabulous safety announcement) my bike shorts beneath were still dry. Another good idea is to start your car and crank the heater right up as soon as you arrive so that once you’ve loaded your bike, divested yourself of the wet, muddy clothes and applied dry warm clothes you can leap into a toasty vehicle and turn the demister on. Finally I discovered that leaving one’s spouse at home by the fire has the great benefit of being able to walk into a toasty warm house upon you’re arrival. These are the things that make winter riding bearable.

Sunday was a slightly different kettle of fish. I actually wasn’t at all keen for a ride, the weather was worse and I was snuggled up on the couch when I received an “encouraging” text for a ride up Kennedy’s. Brrrrrrr. Oh well, I’ve always been a sucker for a bit of peer pressure. This ride would require more attention to detail for the top half of my body. The usual winter attire for the bottom half would be fine. The Kennedy’s ride would be exposed to the wind, however much of it would be climbing so it is more difficult to work out the optimal layering. I went for sleeveless but hi-necked merino under my GE long sleeved Starfish and topped off by the fantastic She-Shell. I also threw a long sleeved merino in my backpack just in case. The climb up the road was fantastic (who would have thought) and I was the perfect temperature by the time I got to the base of the 4wd track. This would have set me up well for the climb in the wind except I had to wait for the other mad buggers I was riding with and got ever so slightly chilled in the 15 minutes between my arrival and theirs. Up on the hill things got worse for me pretty quickly. The wind was howling into our faces as we climbed the wet paddock and my legs were complaining that I’d already hammered them the day before. Up the 4wd track and the little stream that had babbled to me on Thursday was bigger and more talkative and line selection was the key to keeping traction. We crested the rise and dropped down a bit into the lee of the windbreak and could actually talk. It was nasty, but there were other mad people out on the hill. We continued down and at the bottom met a lake at the stile and the wind returned. I was feeling pretty cold now and my legs were pretty much toast, but pig-headedness drove me on and up the next climb. It was bad. I was right in that black place you go when all you can do is turn your legs and keep your weight in the right place to keep going up. The wind was sucking the energy right out of me and my breath was coming in huge wheezing gasps. Not a pretty sight. Finally we made it to where it levelled off and I knew I was completely toasted. I really couldn’t go up into that wind anymore so I was extremely grateful when scatter gave me a get out of jail free card and I could bail. It felt sucky leaving everyone else on the hill to go up, but they are all significantly fitter than I am and I’d pushed all I could.

It was then I made my big mistake for the day. If I hadn’t been so tired and focussed on getting down the hill I would have taken the time to quickly add my extra layer of wool under my jacket and zip up my pit-zips. But I didn’t and I froze on the descent in the howling wind. Having said that it was still pretty fun sliding down the hill in the mud. I was soon coated from head to foot in mud and at times had some difficulty seeing. I struggled lifting my bike over the fence in the wind and then remembered to zip up those pit zips. That helped a bit and I got a bit of warmth back climbing back up the 4wd, but then down the other side it was exposed and cold and I went down pretty slow as I just couldn’t keep the mud out of my eyes. The fast trip down the road left me struggling to get my legs moving at the bottom, but did clean most of the mud off my face as sheets of water sprayed into my eyes. Yuck. I got home in a bit of a state, but managed to take the time to clean my mud coated bike and apply lashings of lube to my freshly cleaned chain. All the while my lovely husband ran me a bath and then helped me remove my mud crusted layers as my hands and brain weren’t really talking to each other. After a soak I returned to semi-human but was completely wasted energy wise.

So the lessons I learnt from the ride were:
i Don’t arrive first and have to wait in the cold
ii If you’re body is telling you something, listen to it
iii Always add another layer before descending in the cold

Both were great rides and I’m really glad I got out and did them. Hopefully both will pay dividends on Wednesday for the night race.

The Fabulous Stolen Ride

Note: I know I’ve blogged already today, but the ride I’ve just been on was so good I have to tell its story.

“Ride it like it’s stolen” is a phrase you see in biking magazines and forums every now and then. It refers to the idea that you love a bike so much that you ride it hard, fast and to the limit of your ability. Tonight I discovered it can apply to actual riding as well. Yes, you can steal a ride. A stolen ride is one that you don’t expect to have, one that seems impossible till it happens, one that you really want, but you think isn’t going to come. My plan for this afternoon to this evening was work, osteo, supermarket, dinner, wind trainer, blob on couch. My reality was so much better.

On the way back from osteo, the pain in my glut from some intense electrified acupuncture still fresh, the sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind. It was just after 4pm and it dawned on me that I could get in a ride if I left as soon as I got home. There’s a few things that can help you steal a ride. An understanding spouse who’s willing to pick up the slack your ride creates is one. Having all your gear ready to go is another. It turns out that dumping helmets, gloves, camelbacks and shoes by the door to trip the unwary is actually a cunning idea to facilitate the quick change necessary for the stolen ride.

Out on the road with lights quickly transferred to my bouncy bike and I was off, heading to Kennedy’s Bush track for a quick ride in the sinking sun. At the base of the hill a quick stop to take my jacket off for the spin up the hill. Riding up the road on the mountain bike is often a painful and depressing experience, but not tonight. Even climbing the road was pure pleasure as I thought of the hour on the trainer I could be doing instead. My breath coming fast as I reached the top I was glad the gate wasn’t locked and I could open the gate to put my bike through. The sun sunk behind the Southern Alps sending rays of blazing orange and vivid pink streaking across the sky. Ominous grey clouds roll in. Up the wet and slippy sheep track, a cold breeze chilling muscles and tearing at lungs, the peace and beauty of the evening scene makes the pain fade away. A brief pause to snap a no mega-pixels shot of the city and sunset and then up the 4wd track. Foggy wisps of breath snatched away on the breeze show the cold. The line to the left is a flowing steam, burbling audibly as I climb. The right is comparatively dry and traction is good and I climb up, enjoying the solitude. As the track flattens out the whole track is a quagmire and mud flicks up onto my legs.

Should I ride the singletrack down? It will be wet, really wet, but it will be fun. I take the plunge and am immediately rewarded with a soaked foot. The track is pretty good and the sheep and cows scatter as I flow past. The final downhill part is super slick and running with water so I fly over the grass and come to a halt in a small lake at the bottom. Continue up or the short climb to head home? Darkness is descending fast and the cold is seeping into my muscles and bones, it’s time to head home. Spinning up the 4wd the mud flicks but I have good traction. My legs are warm and work well and on the crest I stop to put my jacket back on. The view is like a sparkling gem made harsh by the freezing wind. Further up there is snow, but I’m not going there tonight.

Down the hill I fly, gently feathering the brakes, picking lines and careful in the wet. The cold air bites deep into my cheeks and I try not to grin, I don’t want mud in my teeth. Round the corner and down the last stretch of track and the earth opens up before me. The track is rent open and deep ruts on all sides beckon my wheels. It’s the icing on the cake navigating this Worselyesque section of track. And then I blast down the road, freezing as I speed down at full speed. I’m grinning and happy and once on the flat I push my legs hard to warm them and then I’m home, muddy, chilled and huddling over the fire. This ride has been exquisite, an hour stolen unexpectedly, in the midst of a frigid and bleak wintery week.

Familiar stomping grounds

After the weather we’ve had this weekend, and late last week, there can be no disputing that wintery riding conditions are upon us here in Christchurch. This, of course, is the time I’ve finally sorted myself out some sort of training routine for the next few months. I’m really not enjoying how unfit I am and my ad hoc, go riding when I feel like approach doesn’t seem to be helping that much. What better way to kick off a diligent training routine than a ride up a big hill on a chilly, but dry, day. Kennedy’s Bush, a familiar friend, a test and the first time I’ve been up there since my crash.
To be honest, if the lovely scatter hadn’t been keen I would have been quite happy to spend the day in front of the fire. I’m glad she was, because although this climb really really hurt, it was still brilliant fun and taught me some useful lessons.

Lesson 1 - Your lungs are fragile, be nice to them, a warm up is their friend.
I discovered that getting out of a warm house into a warm car and then out of the warm car onto a bike and starting straight up a climb is not good for my delicate lungs. After climbing up the first short section of sheep/single track to the first water tank my little lungs were not just protesting. They had fully thrown all their toys out of the cot and worked themselves into a full blown screaming tantrum. I couldn’t speak and could only just stay upright, draped over my handle bars like an under-stuffed scarecrow. Once I had managed to regain some semblance of composure we continued up the gentle climb of the 4wd track and then down some singletrack. I took it easy on my lungs and they warmed up. When we got to the next steeper section of the climb my lungs were fine. It turns out that boring bit of road riding to get to Kennedy’s is necessary for my lungs and in the future I will be trying to make sure my lungs are suitably warmed up before attempting any high intensity stuff (which is just about anything that’s not perfectly flat for me at the moment).

Lesson2 – You can lose all your fitness without losing your skills
Quite a few of my recent rides have shown me this. Saturday’s wet, slidey, slightly speedy (note to self, it’s time for new brake pads) descent showed me I can still have exciting, slightly dangerous fun without damaging myself. Which leads to…………………

Lesson 3 – Sometimes mud is good
Sliding round corners is fun. Spraying mud around is fun. Skidding is fun. Flying down wet hills is fun. Unexpectedly riding into water filled ruts is fun – for the people you are riding with as they get to laugh at you! Getting really dirty is fun and it makes coming home to a warm house and a hot chocolate sooooo much better. (Sensible note: riding wet singletrack is very very bad, do not do it. Riding wet 4wd tracks and sheep tracks is good)

Lesson 4 – Mud is not good for bikes
My bike is covered in mud and poo, I’m not looking forward to cleaning it, but if I don’t it will stop being my friend and break down and possibly hurt me. It’s fickle like that.

Lesson 5 - Good friends can turn rubbish into gold (comedy gold if you’re lucky)
If I had actually managed to have to motivation to leave the house and ride up the hill on Saturday by myself I suspect I would be looking at my ride in a different light. In fact I possibly would have thrown the towel in when my lungs exploded. It was cold. It was grey. The ground was really muddy. There was poo flying. But all these things seemed fun because we were talking that particular brand of bollocks that is so good when trying to distract yourself from the pain of a climb. We could laugh together and at each other. And laughter is contagious once it starts. So I hit the side of the rut and had to put a foot down where I’ve never ever had to before - Hilarious! Especially the dance of restarting on a hill in the wet while manoeuvring out of the deadly rut.

So, with help, I’ve knocked Kennedy’s off and am looking forward to more assaults on its slippery sides, and hopefully a few stealth night missions. My legs are going to get strong again, if it kills me!

Off Track – Plans are a Changing

Since the Hammerhead things haven’t really gone to plan, as evidenced by my lack of posting. My legs were completely trashed after that race, and mentally I was also completely spent. Although I managed to go singlespeeding and do some shuttles in the week after the race my head wasn’t in a training space and I ended up not riding at all at the weekend. I did however go watch some downhilling, very cool to see Rita race, and had a group of lovely cycling women over for a BBQ (including Emmeline Ragot, a really lovely French chick who’s currently the World Cup number 4 ranked woman in downhill!!!!). The BBQ was great fun and it was really great to have a group of women together from many different disciplines of this sport we all love, talking about riding. It will have to be repeated in the future.
The following week I had 3 days in Wellington for work and couldn’t get out riding as the meetings were all day affairs. I was able to be home for Wednesday so we headed up Kennedy’s, tackling the Croc first. Bollocks is all I can say. The Croc is quickly becoming my nemesis. I know I can ride it, I’ve done it a couple of times, but it seems like if I’m tired or stressed at all it quickly turns into a nightmare ride of hyperventilating and rubbish riding. I was not a happy camper when I eventually struggled to out at the top, but luckily that didn’t last. I actually made it much further up Kennedy’s than I expected after the nightmare of the Croc and while Pete and Michelle continued up to the top I blasted back down and did some little hill repeats of the little bit of down hill singletrack. Zoom up the 4wd drive as fast as I can, race down the singletrack, and repeat as necessary. I managed to get 3 hill climbs and 2 and a half descents in before Pete and Michelle appeared and I was grinning from ear to ear again. Which makes me think, if you are having a shite day on the bike, let all that crap out – have a wee tanty, then get back on the bike. It certainly made me feel better.
After that no more riding till the weekend and then there was very fun singlespeeding in the muddy wet forest. My legs were finally working again (phew) and my brain was fully back in the right place. Yay. Monday saw me back out on the roadie for the first time in months and months. It was a great wee 30km ride and I completely hammered the wee rollers on Cashmere Downs for the first time. Yes! Unfortunately there was a rather painful side effect that appeared as a result of this ride. My poor butt, and in particular my sit bones are not used to my roadie seat anymore and the next day I woke up with the mother of all saddle sores. So no riding on Tuesday and to make matters worse it actually kept me awake during the night. Bugger, I really wanted to ride on Wednesday, but no, it was not to be. Luckily by Wednesday evening it had settled down in time for Christmas, but no riding was done.
So this has lead to some tough decision making this morning. Obviously I very very much want to do the race in Bannockburn on the 30th, however it is a long long way to drive ($$$$) for an hour and a half (hopefully) on the bike. There are other complicating factors around New Years and friends visiting from Japan so Pete and I have decided to flag the race. This makes things a lot more simple, but I’m still feeling a bit gutted, I really like this race and was very much looking forward to the measure of progression it would have given me. Now I have to wait till April to do a race I’ve done before and see that progression. Bugger. On the plus side, there will be some riding of Hanmer, Craigieburn and possibly Wharfedale or Poulter Valley to make up for it. Yay.

Finally, belated Merry Christmas all. I got a lovely new camera which will let me take much better photos of biking for my blog. Here’s a few wee shots from my play session with it yesterday. Coffee anyone??