Brighton Big Dog

I have seldom felt so under prepared for a race.

The Brighton Big Dog is a massive event, with trade stands, DJ's and an impressive entry list. The aim is to complete as many laps of the 5.5 mile course as you can in 6 hours. The race started at noon on Saturday which is one of the reasons for my lack of preparation.

I had ridden more than I should during the week leading up to the event so my legs weren't fresh. Friday evening after work I really hadn't felt like prepping the bike so it had all come down to a bit of a race morning panic, getting everything together and packing the car. Brighton had been in the news on Thursday due to torrential rain and floods. This was followed by more rain on Friday, so semi slick tyres wouldn't have been my first choice, but there wasn't time now to switch.

Luckily summer returned for race day and the sun shone as the huge field of riders gathered for the start in Stanmer Park. From the gun we were straight into a long sapping climb up into the woods. Here the damp trails and trecherous slick roots made life challenging as we wove our way around the lap. The hills just kept coming, the last was a particular grind coming just a mile from the end when you didn't think anymore climbing possible!


I tried hard to not to push myself into the red early on, but still keep pace with those around me. In such a huge field or riders it was impossible to know what position I was in. Quite amazingly I stayed within sight of Paul Floodgate for the entire race. He had a slight edge on the climbs, but I was able to pull back the time lost on the descents, which were drying by lap 2 and grip levels were increasing steadily all day.  

The toughest moment of the day, came as I was riding out of the arena and the comentator annouced the 3 hour half way mark. I'd just completed my 5th lap and the realisaiton that there were at least 4 more to go was tough mentally to deal with. The idea of stepping off the bike and putting an end to the suffering kept flooding into my mind. My legs began to feel like somebody elses and I had to keep eating banana's and gulping water to ward off the first warning signs of cramp. Fatigue also lead to a couple of silly errors and a clunk on the head from a low branch was the final wake-up call that forced me to concentrate and refocus.

Getting to the end of that 6th lap really helped, the end seemed in sight and I could now count down the hills remaining. Paul had snuck ahead of me and although I pulled him back on the final lap he pipped me to the line by 30 seconds. The rider behind was only a minute back, amazingly close after 50 miles of arduous racing.  

I had been riding for 5 hours 40 minutes, with 2500m of vertical ascent! This was without doubt one of my toughest days in the saddle. I was totally stoked to finish 10th in such a strong field of riders, on a challenging course. The Stumpjumper worked flawlessly all day, which on the back of the South Downs Way is 150 miles and 15 hours of trouble free cycling with zero maintainance.

Summer break

After the stress of the national champs and the challenge of the South Downs Way it has been quite a busy few weeks. Next Saturday I will be travelling east along the coast to the  Brighton Big Dog, so this weekend was a rare chance to relax, enjoy the summer sunshine and do my own thing.

A simple 25 mile route over the Trundle at Goodwood and then west to the tumuli at Kingley Vale. Less than a quarter of the previous weekends distance, taken at a leasurely pace on the rigid forked Stumpy. A back to basics ride, an opportunity to enjoy the best of the South Downs early in the morning before the world was fully awake and the mist still hung to the hillsides.

The South Downs Way in a day

On Saturday I set out to complete a cycling ambition. To ride the South Downs Way. As a teenager living in Midhurst I spent my formative cycling years on expeditions heading out east and west along the national trail. At some time or another I'd ridden everything east of QE Park. This however was my first attempt to complete the whole nine yards. Well 100 miles to be precise. 

Three of us caught the first train to Winchester,  which after the usual public transport delays got us in at around 9 o'clock. After a brief tour of town we found the King Alfred statue and then the trail head itself. 

The first 25 miles to QE park were new ground, and not as boring or as flat as I had been led to believe. We rode these first few hours at an easy steady pace, a strategy which paid dividends later. The first proper tests of Winchester and Butser Hill came just before we rolled into QE Park and headed to the Café for elevenses. 

After the break we were into familiar territory. Hills I have ridden for over 20 years. Dave unfortunately had to leave us at Bignor where we stopped for a brief packed lunch.

The weather was absolutely perfect. Clear blue skies,  stunning views of the coast to the south and visibility all the way to the North Downs on our left. A slight but appreciated westerly wind supplying a subtle helping hand. 

After Bignor Ian and I rode on together, taking it in turns to open the increasing number of gates. In fact if I had to summarise my overriding memories of the second half of ride it would be "Gates and cow pats"

The miles seem to drag by now,  but at least we were counting down. I kept glancing at the Garmin, it seemed to take an age to get from 60 to 70 miles but we finally crawled up to the pub at Devils Dyke. 3 hours of riding still lay ahead so we decided to stop for an early dinner before the final push.

The burger and chips was quickly demolished, but wreaked havoc upon my body. Back on the bike instead of re-energised my heart was racing and I really struggled. In hindsight the hearty food was a bad idea as my stomach churned uncomfortably. The next 2 hours were a real struggle.  I did what I could to maintain pace with Ian and just keep rolling forward.  Our average speed slowly dropping  below 11mph.

In the heat I'd been keeping well hydrated and fed earlier in the day, but anything destined for my stomach now caused cramps. So two sips of water was all I had the rest of the way to Eastbourne.

An uncomfortable comfort break at a YHA hostel solved some of my issues and with what little strength was left in my legs renewed we reached Alfriston. I must have ridden it before and erased the hill from my memory banks because the climb out of the village was like Chinese water torture. It was as if it would never end  and with 90 miles in the legs it was nothing short of serious challenge. So close to the end there didn't seem enough miles remaining for another climb but following the drop down to Jevington  that is exactly what faced us. This close to home I risked a gel and burnt what feeble bridges remained. 

The view over Eastbourne has never been so appreciated. The lights were just coming on,  shining in the dusk as the glowing red sun set behind us.

100 miles,  3500 metres vertical ascent and 9 hours 45 minutes in the saddle. An awesome days riding,  a tick on the bucket list and the relief of knowing I don't have to do it again!

Ian and myself having lunch at Bignor

2015 British National XC Championship - Hadleigh

The goal: A top 20 finish at the British National XC Championships. It sounded good but I hadn’t told a soul; only whispering it to myself as I lay in bed at night picturing the Hadleigh course in my mind. To be honest I had spent many restless hours during the months leading up to the race, in the dark after the lights had gone out, riding the course over and over in my head. The 2012 Olympic venue is an intimidating course. The technical sections really push the boundaries of my abilities on a bike. What played on my mind was the risk of failure should any section go wrong. The rocks don’t leave a margin for error and any mistake is going to prove costly and painful. The last time I raced at Hadleigh in 2013, I only completed one lap after breaking two ribs during practice on the Saturday.

Twice since April I have driven up to Essex to practice and ride the course. This had repaired some of the mental wounds and built confidence that I could get round the lap vaguely competitively using a mixture of the tough A-lines through the obstacles and easier, but critically much slower, B-lines. What kept me awake at night was the challenge of which A-lines to take on. Where was the time gain worth the risk?

Saturday the 18^th July I set off with the family on the 2 hour drive to Hadleigh near Basildon. On arrival it wasn’t quite the warzone of walking wounded that it had been two years ago; many of the sections have been simplified as part of the Olympic legacy renovation. However just to get the nerves jangling, there were still plenty of bandages and blood on display during the short ride from the car park. The dry weather had left the trails loose and sketchy even between the technical obstacles. Amongst the rocks themselves a fine layer of dust on the stony surfaces reduced grip and increased the anxiety levels! I rode two laps, the first just a sighter to rebuild the confidence to tackle the lines from my previous visits.  On the second I swallowed hard and tackled every A-line, repeating each until I had conquered it three times. More than once I rolled up to the start of a section and bottled it! After a long inner conversation with myself I finally rolled forward again, pushing the front wheel over the lip and beyond that point of no return. It wasn’t quite the exciting adrenalin buzz it had been during the earlier reconnaisance visits, this time I knew any crash or injury would effect my performance on race day.

That night in my Premier Inn room, as my family slept, I replayed the lines over and over in my head. Adding to my worry was the weather forecast. Rain was predicted for the hours before the race, and the idea of slippery wet rocks was the stuff of nightmares. A flurry of nervous texts and emails from fellow racers didn’t help me nod off any quicker! I woke to the sound of rain. In some ways a wet race was ok, I could just commit to the B-lines, but the forecast for drying conditions would mean a horrible situation with unpredicatable levels of grip. Luckily on this occasion Mother Nature helped out, the warm summer sun was shining brightly by the time I left the hotel and when we arrived the course was bone dry.

By this point I was a bag of nerves, a combination of worry about the challenging course and apprehension ahead my first National Champs. I hadn't been this nervous since my GCSE German oral test! As I joined the riders circling, waiting to be called to the grid I had to repeatedly tell myself to enjoy the day and take in the experience. I was gridded last of the 29 riders, Chris Dobson a non-starter after requiring stitches to a knee wound sustained during practice the day before.

The whistle went, this was it, months of practice and training, sleepless nights and evenings of bike tinkering were about to put to the test. My wife was waiting at the top of the first climb of the opening loop and vanity meant my first goal was to not be last when we swept past. What happened after that, out of sight didn’t matter! Around the outside of the first bend I got past 2 or 3 riders, but was blocked in and sank back as the course curved up and left, the others taking advantage of the tighter line. There was a touch of wheels ahead and a rider went down in the middle of the pack, we swarmed round the sprawling figure and onward up the hill. I switched sides into the next steeper section and passed one, two, three riders. I then slipped inside several more on the bend at the top before entering the barriers holding back the crowd on the finishing straight. I heard my wife cheer my name as we swept over the crest and out onto the lap proper. I was buzzing, this was going well!

Then I forgot how to ride! I was so preoccupied with getting through the difficult sections upright that I forgot how to ride the rest of the course inbetween! I think a potent combination of excitement, adrenalin and nerves wreaked havoc with my head and the legs just went into auto pilot for the first 2 laps! I had no idea what position I was in or who was around me. Eventually I focused, realising I was behind a rider who I should be able to beat. I remembered to accelerate out of the corners, to try and pinch the tightest line whenever possible, all the things that normally happen subconsciously when racing.

I started moving forward and lap times improved. I dropped a rider who had been following me from the start and passed the rider ahead and then caught another. I began to enjoy myself, I heard my wife and son cheer me on as I passed through the pit area and felt inspired to push on. The next 3 laps flew by, I didn’t feel tired I just rode as hard as I could and before I knew it I was on the last lap. Looking behind there was nobody insight and initially nobody ahead either, but then on the switchbacks I just caught a glimpse of a rider at the top of the hill. I pushed hard on the next two climbs, but admit that I took it slightly easy on the decents, for as much as I wanted to catch the guy ahead I really wanted to finish.

On the last climb I put in an effort and caught the man ahead at the turn to the finishing line. In hindsight I probably showed my wheel too early. Alerted to my presence he sprinted for the line and after the effort of bridging the gap I was toast!

Crossing the line I still didn't know where I had finished. I guessed mid to low 20's. I scrolled down the result sheet in the registration tent and found my name. I giddily called to my wife, "I was 17th!" My secret goal had been achieved - 17th overall in the Masters category and 14th in my age group 35-39.

My S-works Stumpjumper HT 2015

All prepped and ready for the National Champs on Sunday.

XTR 11sp mech with 10-42t XX1 cassette

Race Face Next SL crank with Absolute Black 32t oval chainring and Eggbeater 3 pedals.

I-Spec XTR shifters keep the cockpit tidy 

Carbon-Ti axle. 90mm SID brain fork. Light Bicycles wheels.

Faithful Romin Saddle

Slammed 90mm Ritchey stem.

National Champs Start List

So the start list for the nationals was published today. I'm gridded last of the 29 starters, which isn't surprising since I haven't entered any British Cycling affiliated races this year to earn ranking points.

I'm racing in a field of 23 Expert riders and 5 Sport riders. Despite a few familiar names, I have no recent race experiences to gauge how I compare against the opposition. We'll find out on Sunday!

Prepping for Nationals

The British National Champs are next Sunday so this weekend was all about prepping the bike and making sure I'm all set for the journey to Essex. 

I stripped and cleaned the bike in the sunshine on Saturday and set off for a systems check on Sunday morning. Unfortunately persistent drizzle set in an hour from home, so a lot of the previous days good work was undone!

The ride was also distrupted by a cut tyre. That meant six flats in five rides this week, a pretty scary statistic with the most important race of the year looming. Hopefully that is all the bad luck out of the way. Talking of tyres the only remaining change for next week is to swap out the Fastrak Control and Rocket Ron for lighter and faster rolling S-Works Fastrak and Maxxis Ikon.

A quick clean, change of tyres and she'll be all set for next week.

Training has been going well in over the past few months. I have focused on endurance this year rather than the speed needed for XC racing, but 3rd in my final race boosted confidence and I feel I am in great form. I put this down to the dry weather which has helped me squeeze in off-road commutes several times a week, which are easier to fit in around family commitments. However, the last couple of weekend rides have been a bit shortened by a poorly child at home, which has also meant sleepless nights. Tiredness really dents my ability to recover and as this week went on I just got slower and slower. All I can do now is take it easy for the next few days and keep my powder dry for next Sunday!

Won't be long before he is leaving the old man behind.

Once he was recovered my son did provide one of the most rewarding days as a Dad. Watching my 3 year old hitting the trails and paths up at Goodwood on his balance bike!