Manfeild 6 Hour Challenge

The Manfield 6 Hour Challenge is a 6 hour race around a 3km car-racing track in Fielding.  I was barely aware of the event and would never have considered it if Tim Neal, a Graperide Ultimate rider, hadn’t mentioned it to me soon after the Graperide.  It would be in May and there were no big events near it, so, I thought, “Why not?  It might be fun”.

So my alarm went off at 5:30 am, Sunday 20 May, and by 6:30 I was on my way.  It was a 1 ½ hour drive up to Fielding on a beautiful morning, with the sun slowly rising to welcome a lovely, clear day.

When I arrived at the Manfield race track, I noticed a van.  That’s Nick Dunne’s van I thought, but who’s that by the van?  My God, it’s the man himself!  I’ve only seen Nick a few times, all while riding the Graperide Ultimate.  I know his kit, his helmet and glasses, and riding style – especially his riding style – but had no idea what he looks like in person.  Until now!  It was great to say hullo again.  A great guy and I wish him all the best in his Race Across America (RAAM) next month!

I then went over to Tim Neal (the Potato Guy).  He was still recovering from a hip operation, but had assembled a team around him (Nick, Damian Day, Pete Jennings, Matt Oliver, and Charles Salmon, being the ones I knew) under the Potato Guy banner and also had a Potato Guy stall to raise money for Nick’s RAAM assault.  This time around, it was Tim’s turn not to recognise me without my helmet and glasses on!  He even invited me to join the team, but didn’t have a shirt big enough for my bulging muscles.

There was just enough time to cycle once around the course, get the blood flowing (it was cold!) and line my bottles on the barriers, before we were ready to go.  I had a bit of a chat with Damian while waiting.  Damian’s is a really nice guy with a very interesting story.  For medical reasons, he spends most of the year touring around NZ on his bike.  Check out his blog:  http://lifeonabikeinnz.blogspot.co.nz/ .  Also the following interview with him: http://pathlesspedaled.com/2012/01/kiwi-short-damian-day-new-zealands-bicycling-nomad/ .

Nick Dunne

Damian Day

At last we were off!  Or were we?  It was a “neutralised start”, with everyone travelling at moderate pace behind a car for the first lap.  This is taking ages!  Well, best to use the time wisely, so let’s take a step back.  What was I hoping for in this race, how was I feeling, and what were my plans?

My plan was simple: to get into a bunch, hopefully the first bunch, stay there, and (importantly!) take my fair share of turns at the front.  My hopes?  I wanted to do well.  Before, I was totally anonymous at such events, but now a few people actually know me.  It puts a slightly increased pressure on me to perform, to earn respect.  I had no idea what this event would be like, imagining it would be a relatively small affair with a huge range of abilities.  I’m not at all used to bunch riding, especially for 6 hours straight, so there was some anxiety about this.  However, all in all, I was calm and relaxed about the whole thing.  It was less than most training rides I did before the Enduro and Ultimate and I felt that I could handle the discomfort. So – no worries!

Obviously a little too relaxed!  While angling to get near the front, I was a long way off it when the race was suddenly on.  It was crowded – 88 cyclists on the track, with 25 of us doing it solo and the remaining 63 being members of a team.  There was a massive bunch at the front.  Where I was there was confusion, or most probably it was just me who was confused.  Many around me just continued cycling on by themselves, but a few small bunches formed.  I jumped on one of three other people, feeling confident that we would catch the main group up.  Duh!  Obviously I don’t understand the physics of these things.  Not surprisingly, the front group just continued pulling further and further away.

I can’t remember too much of the first lap, as things changed pretty fast.  But by the end of it I had made the decision that I would do the thing by myself, unaided by any drafting.  That is more like endurance riding.  I was also just not comfortable with racing in bunches, especially bunches where people were faster than me and I would be freeloading.

Anyway, I was not at all dismayed, despite my plans and hopes of the race drastically changing.  Sure, I wouldn’t get a good placing and impress my fellow endurance athletes, but at least I’d get some good training in.  Time for impressing people later ;-)  The idea now was to go at a hard pace that would put me into the hurt zone, and to continue in the hurt zone while pushing hard all the way to the end.  It would be another good opportunity to get used to discomfort, to check my riding style, and to keep the food intake going.

I really enjoyed everything there was about the day.  The best way to describe the course is as a banana bent almost flat, with the course being the skin part of the banana.  This meant that in many of its parts you could see the riders coming the other way.  The shape of the course also meant that you got the wind in your face twice each lap.  And that was the other great feature of the day – quite a stiff breeze the whole time.

After two or three laps, I worked out that I was cycling around the speed of another rider who was also riding by himself – Donald Packer from Hawera.  At times I rode next to him exchanging the odd remark, at other times I drew slowly ahead of him, and finally, after around four hours, he came back from a break and slowly drew ahead of me.  I see from the results that he ended up three minutes ahead!

There’s really not much to say about my race itself.  No big hills, no duelling or hanging on like grim death to a peloton, and no great drama.  Because I was cycling by myself, it was just grunting all the way to the end.  The laps soon developed a routine of their own.  The finish/start straight was straight into the wind, so it was head down and powering along, usually a bit under 30 km/hr.  The curve would then take me away from the wind.  At later stages on this bit, I would stand, stretch one leg, then the other, sit, have a sip of my drink, then power along again, usually a bit over 30 km/hr.  And the whole thing repeated for the second part of the lap!

There were four stops over the six hours.  The first was after only 1 ½ hours, when I had to exchange my two empty drink bottles for another couple.  The swap went well, taking only a matter of seconds.  The other drink stop took a wee bit longer, as I struggled to work out which were the full bottles and also had a quick chat with a guy who was standing next to the bottles.  He even kindly filled a couple of them with juice for the next time.  The other two stops were pee breaks – the downside of using food that involves lots of liquid!

The pedalling was uncomfortable, but I had enough confidence in my fitness and mental side to be able to continue slogging it out to the end.  It was a struggle though.  After a while, I found a great way of focussing, which was to vocalise on my out-breath, i.e. make it audible.  Not the most glamorous of things to do, but it really did help me going into the wind when I was struggling.

Another couple of things helped take my mind off things.  One was looking awestruck at the really fast bunches (and later individuals) whizzing past me.  Because most cyclists on the course were members of teams, they could really blow themselves away for just a few laps and hit amazing speeds in the process.  The fastest average lap speed, for example, was a freakish 64 km/hour over what is a 3.03 km lap, although most of the fastest laps were just under 50 km/hour.  These guys looked really professional.  The whole thing looked exciting and I'm half tempted to do a bit of training to race with the front groups next May!  Bugger trying not free-load in a peloton, I'll be spending most of my time trying desperately not be be spat out from the back!

The other thing helping was the interaction I had with people.  One of these was the odd exchange with people I passed or who passed me.  With all that time on the track, you soon notice people.  There was a young teen girl with whom I was really impressed.  She looked broken, but I kept on passing her again and again – she just kept at it!  I also frequently passed a couple of women who rode at a slow and steady pace for the full 6 hours, eventually managing to just beat their goal of doing 30 laps.  They were in the process of training up for the 160 km Lake Taupo ride.

Something else I enjoyed was taking on passengers.  After a while, I would notice a shadow or glimpse of a wheel out of the corner of my eye, as the odd person drafted behind me.  Once again, with so many laps, I got to notice some familiar faces there too.  It was not only company of a sort, it kept me honest, and I felt really chuffed being able to help fellow riders out.  It also salvaged some of that pride lost from being blown away by those really fast riders.

The other company I had for a while was Nick Dunne.  We had a few longish chats together, which I really enjoyed.  Nick is only a few weeks out from 5,000+ km RAAM (13 June!) so was trying to take it easy.  He hadn’t though and had blasted away with the fast ones for quite a while.  I think he enjoyed going at a more relaxed pace the second half and talking with people.  What a wonderful ambassador for endurance cycling!  He’s a guy I’d like to know better.

At last, an announcement of three more minutes was made as I went past the finish line.  Only one more lap to do.  So, it was head down and around again.  I even got the checkered car-racing flag waved when I finally passed the finishing line!  I did a wide wheel around the person waving us back into the transition area, just enjoying finally being able to reduce effort and to rest.

I slowly peddled though to the Potato Guy team, leaned my bike against a wall, and shook hands with the riders I could find.  I then clip-clopped over to get my gear.  Hey, my jacket’s gone.  My bottles were there but not my jacket.  Who on earth would take it?  It’s old and hardly something that anyone would want to wear.  What a pest!  I checked to see if anyone in the Potato Guy team had taken it to look after and also went to see if anyone had left it with the officials.  No luck.  Bugger!  I wasn’t staying for the prize-giving, so gave a last farewell and good luck to Nick, then slowly pushed my bike back to the car.  And there was my jacket, lying crumbled in a corner in one of the garages I was walking through.  Someone had probably felt cold, grabbed the jacket, and just dumped it when they’d finished with it!

In the end I had done 61 laps, making it a 185 km ride at an average speed of 31.3 km/hour, pretty much all with no drafting.  I was pretty tired afterwards though and the drive back was quite hard.  Pretty shattered that night!

In my opinion, the standout performer was, as always, Colin (Wal) Anderson.  What an athlete!  He’s in his mid-sixties and has been in the endurance cycling scene for ages, having set New Zealand records that still hold and encouraged others into the sport.  He was 2nd solo rider and 25th overall, doing a total of 75 laps.  He’s undoubtedly the king of endurance cycling in NZ and always will be!

The results can be found here: http://www.mylaps.com/results/showrun.jsp?id=2272982&perclass=0

So, what were my lessons?  They were the usual ones:

• I was happy with being able to take a level of discomfort and continue taking it.  No issues there.

• I’m a lot better at riding without full weight on my arms, but that is still work in progress.

• Nick asked me if I pulled with my legs when I cycled and suggested I include one-legged pedalling as part of my training.  I thought I was alright, but obviously not.  Something to work on!

• Perhaps the most important thing of all, however, was food.  I didn’t do well on this; it’s something else I have to work on.  No problem for the race, as it was so short, but what if it had been longer?  It was fine while I had the Perpeteum drink.  However, when this (prematurely) ran out, I didn’t get into my stock of faster working sugars (e.g. Goo).  Part of the reason was that I was racing hard and struggling against the wind, which meant that my stomach was tight and the thought of consuming something that was not a liquid didn’t appeal.  The other was the slight awkwardness of retrieving the food, which would have slowed me down.  Lesson: slow down and take the food; make the time; think positively and enjoy it; and you can only benefit!

But, despite it being good training, I did feel outclassed by the likes of Wal Anderson, Eugene Collins, and, of course, Nick Dunne.  So what do I imagine someone like Wal suggesting I need to do to get anywhere near his level.  Simple really – lots of miles, experience, quality training, really good planning, and heaps of mental toughness.  I’m working on it!

Riding with the 60/40 group (Part 2)

Here's my account of the first five rides I had with the group.

Ride no. 1: Paekakariki Hill

The reason I remember the date of my first ride with the 60/40 group (1 April) is that it was a week after the Graperide.  I was still pretty beat-up, but had been getting cabin-fever the past few days and wanted something gentle to get the blood moving again and lift the spirit.  The 60/40s seemed the perfect answer.  So at 8am, I bowled up to TBI Health, the starting point for rides.  The first time!  As I expected, people were very welcoming to this stranger joining them.

The ride was to be up Paekakariki Hill to Pauhatanui, then Plimmerton, over Airlie’s Road, and back to Robert Harris cafe.  I was in no hurry, wanting to be easy on myself and just be part of the group.  So I stayed near the back.  I was up off the seat going up Paekakariki Hill, keeping my pace down and being kind to my butt.  At the top I let everyone go first, then started gently wheeling down the hill, singing to myself at the back and admiring the view.  My feeling of relaxed joy was rudely shattered when I suddenly realised that I had dropped right back and a bunch had formed and was powering away from me.  I started putting my foot down, rode past another rider who was also back from the bunch, and we motored towards the group, picking up another stray in the process.  I belted down the road, slowly closing the gap.  Finally it was down to about 5-10 metres, when the first rider catapulted past and made it, but I just didn’t have the strength to follow him and bridge the distance.

So the rest of the ride to Pauhatanui was spent charging along, trying to keep the eventual gap as small as possible.  Every now and then, my pace would obviously slow a bit and my fellow rider would take the lead.  I’d rest for a minute behind her and then regain the lead, enjoying both the sense of urgency and pushing myself.  I still don’t know who my companion was, as she later went with the two Pauls around the whole Aka block.  All I know is that she had strong legs with wonderfully developed calf muscles.  I’ll have to keep a look out for them!

The group was kindly waiting at Pauhatanui.  After a short stop, we were off again.  However, by now my heart was really going, with adrenalin pumping through the body, and my whole attitude to the ride had changed.  From feeling lazy and relaxed, I was now chomping at the bit.  The pace was easy around the inlet, but then I noticed a female rider (don’t know her name) take off up the Camborne Hill.  I looked around and saw that no-one was going to pursue her.  I just couldn’t help myself and peeled away from the group myself to catch up and ride behind her.  So much for taking it easy on a recovery ride and fitting in with the group!  That was to be the theme for the rest of the ride.  I didn’t want to be a wanker and race everyone, so contented myself with matching the pace of whoever was at the front.  But again I couldn’t help myself on the Centennial Drive and again on the road from McKay’s Crossing back to Paraparaumu, and stayed on the front as long as I could, retaking the lead after a short recovery whenever overtaken myself.  What a blast!  I’ve never had so much fun!

So, that was my first ride with the 60/40s.  Coffee afterwards was wonderful.  I just sat back and enjoyed the laidback interaction and conversation, chipping in every now and then myself.  Next Sunday would be Easter and I would be away, but I had a definite date forS two weeks’ time!

Ride no. 2 – Akatarawa Hill

The 15 April ride was to be up Akatarawa Hill, back down, and then up all the roads branching off the Aka road, about 75 km in all.

Bunch training rides are pretty new to me.  My new experience this ride was to be racing up a hill and also bunch riding on fairly steep undulating hills.

I think that the Akatarawa Hill is about 450 metres.  Only my second ride and I was still not quite into the racing mentality yet.  As we started going up the hill, I slowly and casually passed many of the riders and rode up to join the few riders at the front.  One rider pulled away (not sure who he was) and I stuck to the tail of the second rider (English Ian – to differentiate him from Kiwi Ian).  Slowly the other riders dropped off and I cycled just behind him all the way up the hill.  It was hard going but great fun.  I’m not used to racing up hills.  They’re usually obstacles that I try to get up riding as efficiently and fast as possible, but not pulling out all stops.  This would be something that I’d definitely be looking forward to in future rides!

We then wheeled back down the Akas and went up the various fingers – i.e. the roads shooting off from the main hill road.  I found some of these quite tough and had to work pretty hard.  This time around, I was no longer around the front of the group, and even got totally dropped on the last leg.  I’ve since read how important it is to stay near the front of a bunch, as it’s the back ones who have to do so much work to bridge gaps.  I think of the analogy of a bungee cord: as the bunch surges, you get left behind and have that much more distance to cover at a harder pace; and, if you’re really unlucky, the bloody thing snaps and you’re by yourself.  Something else to work on and perfect!  Boy, I’m really enjoying this!

Ride no. 3 – Te Horo Beach

This ride was to be a short one – to Te Horo Beach and going off various offshoots on the way.  A ride of about 55 km.

The main feature of this ride that I enjoyed was trying to sneak long turns at the front and battling to stay with the front rider whenever there was a sprint, of which there were a few.  Again, it’s so unlike endurance riding, where you’re by yourself all the time and don’t have these highs.  I loved it.

Although I felt very strong most of the ride and did well, I found the pace for the last 15 minutes to the Otaihanga footbridge to be very fast.  I’m making a point of not sheltering in the bunch too much if I can help it, but we were all racing on the home straight and I felt quite pushed.  It’s exciting and bloody good fun!

Coffee at Robert Harris again!  I’m getting to know more people now and am feeling very comfortable

Ride no. 4 – Otaki Beach

The ride was to be a double coffee ride – one coffee at Otaki Beach and the other on our return.  A ride of about 70 km.  Because it’s the off season, the plan if for the 60/40 rides to be shorter and more gentle –bugger!

I didn’t really enjoy this ride, as the focus was to be on practising bunch riding and getting a rotation going.  Not much fun when I wanted to spend time at the front and to race to catch up any sprints off the front.  But fair enough!  However, there were a couple of breakaways.  Matt Oliver suddenly took off on the only hill in Te Horo.  I looked around and found no-one else following, so took off after him.  We rode side by side all the way to the beach turn-off, riding quite fast into the wind.  Loved it!  I also started a break-away myself.  It was along the straight by Te Horo School, the place where by tradition every bunch races.  My focus here is to put myself into the pain zone as much as possible and put that mental fortitude of mine to the test, so I just took off and went for it by myself.  No race tactics of drafting for me, I just hooned it, so it was no surprise when Doug, Matt and xxx passed me half way along the straight, working together as a group.  I just did not have the strength even to hold their wheels.  Yay – something else to work on!

The other noteworthy part of the trip was, about 300 metres before the turnoff to the Otaihanga footbridge, Janice saying to me, “Shall we go!”  So the two of us took off.  My intention again was to match her pace, not beat her.  I managed it for a while, but she soon proved too powerful for me and pulled away.  Yet one more thing to work on!  We raced the following ride too, with her again proving the better of me.  I’m hoping that this will be a regular thing for us and my aim is to eventually be able to match her!

Something else worth mentioning is that I finally met Douglas Mabey, who’s done the 1200 km Paris-Breast-Paris event a couple of times.  Several times I have seen this serious, strong-looking, bearded gentleman out riding by himself, down on his aerobars.  To me he looked very different from the other riders I saw and I was sure that he was an endurance rider.  He most certainly is!  The next Paris-Brest-Paris is 2015.  I didn’t tell him, but it’s also on my radar.

Ride no 5. – over the Akatarawas

Up over the Aka hill to Staglands and back – about 60 km and 880 vertical metres.

I’d been looking forward to this ride with some trepidation.  This was because my plan was to race up the hill and really get into the pain zone.  One of the riders had pulled way ahead of me last time, so I was going to have the goal of not allowing this and to use the ride as an opportunity for learning to deal with hurt.  Key to this is how you respond to pain and to the realisation that there is more to come.  Currently I do what most people probably do, which is let it weigh on me and crush me.  This time I was going to try two alternatives.  One was to trick myself into feeling that it wasn’t mine but belonged to the rider I was racing against.  The idea was to believe this at a sub-conscious level but, even if I couldn’t do that, I would at least work on the fact of consciously knowing that he too was hurting.  The other thing I wanted to experiment with was just sinking into the pain, accepting it as a fact that I can’t get away from, and not even thinking of being able to do anything about it, but just continuing on racing.  There are not many opportunities for experimenting with such things, but this was to be one.  Hence the trepidation!

It was a bloody cold start to the day, with frosts in the odd sheltered spots.  I dressed slightly warmer than usual, but by the time I’d cycled to the meeting place at the start, my fingers were burning from the cold.  Thank goodness there was a bit of sun to try and thaw out in.  The ride to the start of the hill involved me hanging off the back of the bunch, shrinking into myself and trying to be as small as possible to escape from the cold.  I don’t think that I really thawed out until the end of the ride!

As we neared the start of the hill, I alerted myself to what was happening ahead.  There seemed to be several riders keen to be near the front, so I could sense that a race was about to be on.  At the steep bit where the hill begins, I wheeled up past the main group of riders, trying to look as casual as I could, and joined the ones at the front.  We rode up together for a short time, but before long it was just Ian  (Kiwi  Ian) and me riding together.  Again, I had the approach of matching, not racing the front rider, so we rode up together.  It was actually very pleasant and we chatted most of the way up.  Nice, but I wasn’t getting what I wanted!  In my mind, I was egging  Ian to show some mongrel, throw down the gauntlet, and start racing, but it’s hard to imagine him having a nasty bone in him.  A really nice guy!

Finally, as we were nearing the top, David rode up and passed us, saying something like, “Hullo chaps”.  Finally, I thought, a race was on!  But no, we were all much too civilised.   Ian and I matched David’s slightly faster pace and together we rode to the top.  After a short break in the sun (I was still cold!), I followed  Ian back down again and we accompanied the last riders up to the top.

It was then to be down to Staglands on the – even colder! – other side of the hill.  I waited for everyone else to go and then followed, again shrinking into myself to stay warm.  I wasn’t sure whether the trick was to go as slow as possible and cut down the wind-chill or to go fast and work the muscles.  Unfortunately, the very windy, narrow roads and slight possibility of ice prevented the latter option.

The group were waiting at the bottom of the main hill.  I dismounted and let them go off to Staglands, which was only about 5 minutes away.  I wheeled my bike over to a sheltered patch of sunshine and enjoyed the heat slowly beginning to return to my body.  All too soon the group was back and riding past me back up the Akas, with one of the riders calling out, “It was hardly worth it”.  I know!  I had felt rather privileged to experience the few minutes of quietness by myself, trying to warm up in this very lovely spot.

As I was stiffly trying to clip back into the peddles, watching the group ride off ahead, my heart suddenly missed a beat.  My race!  The front riders were getting ahead of me!  I upped the pace and, once again, attempted to look as casual as possible as I rode past the other riders.  Finally I made it to Howard, exchanged a few words with him, then slowly peddled away.  Once out of sight of him, I looked ahead.  No sign of any other riders.  No David and no  Ian!  Perfect – the race was on!

I’ve never gone up that side of the Akatarawas so fast!  Usually it’s after about 3 hours that I get to this point and I’ve already done a couple of taxing hills.  But here I was, as fresh as anything.  It was wonderful fun, egged on by the incentive of catching the others up.  I was in the pain zone, but it wasn’t any issue at all, as my mind was totally in race mode and buzzing with excitement.  It didn’t take at all long to get to the top!

I just couldn’t believe that I hadn’t caught up with the front riders.  At the top I met Hazel, a retired special education teacher (I think).  I had waited for her early on in the ride, but she told me to go on, saying that she would make it, just at a slower pace.  “Has anyone else passed by?” I asked.  “Yes, two riders and they were going fast”.  Bugger!  Still, I’d had a ball.  I wheeled around and went back down the hill to accompany the other riders up.  I was surprised to see  Ian well down with another rider.  Had I been “racing” phantoms?  (Apparently, not – I think it was the two Davids who had been ahead of me.)  I rode on past him, not realizing that he was keeping the last rider company.  There was no-one else, but I didn’t want to leave anyone by themselves, so continued on down for a while.  Finally I wheeled around.  Another fast ride to the top, where I found that people were already on their way back, so it was back down the hill, playing catch-up.  Brrr!

As usual, coffee was great!

Ride no. 6

… didn’t happen for me.  How sad!  So, here I am, writing this blog instead.  I’d just gone too long and hard on my ride yesterday and think that it’s best to let my body recover a bit.  And I won’t make it to next Sunday’s ride either, as that’s the day of the 6 hour Manfield Challenge.  So it will have to be the week after that when I’ll be able to continue with the joy that is the 60/40 group.  Thanks guys!

Riding with the 60/40 group (Part 1)

Recently, all my stars aligned at once and I’ve had the good fortune of joining the 60/40 group.

The 60/40s are a bunch of cycling enthusiasts on the Kapiti Coast, who meet every Sunday for a ride and coffee.  There’s quite a spread of cycling ability, but the ethos of the group is to increase fitness and cycling skills while supporting each other and having fun.  The rides have been varied so far, but generally are about 3 hours long with around 15-20 riders participating.  Apparently “60/40” refers to the female/male ratio.

I knew the group was around from reading the notices on the Kapiti Cycling Club website, but first really became aware of them when I began crossing their paths while walking past the Robert Harris cafe at Coastlands.  That’s the sort of group I want to be part of, I’d think each time, as I enviously viewed the friendliness, cameradie, and interplay between the members.  Coffee was also a major attraction.  This is what cycling should be about!

For a long time my desire to join had been thwarted by it not fitting in with my schedule.  The group wouldn’t be able to replace the long, hard hours I was getting from my Saturday rides and I couldn’t really take yet another weekend day away from all the responsibilities of house and family.  However, after the Graperide Ultimate, I realised that I would need to increase my weekly hours on the bike if I was going to complete the Enduro Maxi.  A ride with the 60/40s would be a great way to end the training week!

My first ride with them was on Sunday 1 April, and since then I’ve had four more rides.  What a great bunch of people!  I’m slowly beginning to know some of the riders a bit more.  It’s great for me, as I’ve always gone for rides by myself in the past.  John Barber is king pin and a top fellow.  He seems to be the natural leader of the group, not only planning the rides but always having a cheerful word with people and doing his best to keep us together.  Lisa Forde is another really bright, cheery ray of sunshine – what a smile!  I loved riding up the Akas last weekend with the friendly and very pleasant Ian, and it’s great crossing swords with Martin and Howard as they always surge ahead to lead the bunch on the flats.  My main mission at the moment, however, is to see if I can match the pace of Janice as she breaks out to sprint the last bit of road before the Otaihanga footbridge – it hasn’t happened yet!

Wake up call!

Just had a huge wake-up call!

I've been taking it fairly easy since the Ultimate, focusing mainly on building up weekly k's rather than going for any long rides. My weekends have involved (1) the 100k Aka block on Saturday and (2) 70-80k with the 60/40 group on Sunday. Great fun! But I decided to lift things up a bit today, and did Aka block (around 1000 metres climbing) plus Otaki Beach circuit (flat) - 160 km all up.

Bloody oath! Suddenly all those memories came back and I remembered just what endurance riding was all about! It's amazing how, after only a few weeks off, you quickly forget the downside and see everything with rose-tinted glasses! It's not really something that I would describe as fun! I seem to have lost a lot of fitness since the Ultimate, so it was a great opportunity to get a glimpse of that "dark side" again for a few hours and do a bit of practice on the mental front.

My lesson from that ride is that, every month, I'm going to have to fit in a long ride where I take myself well beyond my comfort levels.  I might even work up to about 20 hours or so, but have to balance this against the training time lost in recovering from such rides.

By the way, my limited experience with group training rides shows that they also have their share of pain, as we race each other up hills or try to stay at the front of the peloton as long as we can. But it's a piece of cake by comparison! You have the help of that powerful drug (adrenalin), that powerful motivation (beating your mates), that great distraction (there's always something happening), it's fun, and it's not sustained for long, as the hill soon ends or you can soon shelter in the pack to recuperate. Endurance cycling has none of this.  It relies totally on yourself and it's all about mental toughness.  No wonder not many people do it!

And as I pathetically grappled with this for 2-3 hours at the end of my ride today, I thought of people like Nick Dunne and Ron Skelton who, next month, will be doing this non-stop, day after day. Tough bastards! All the best for RAAM guys!!!!

Lessons from the Ultimate

The GrapeRide Ultimate was a big step for me.  The 640 km Taupo Maxi Enduro will be yet another step up.  What are the lessons from the Ultimate that can help me successfully complete the Maxi?

Fuel.  Good fuelling has always been on the top of my list of what is needed to reach the finish line.  It was foremost in my mind during the Ultimate, but successfully so only for the first 3-4 laps.  After that, fuel intake fell, which was probably the main contributor to my drop in performance.  One reason for the reduction may have been that I was taking longer to complete the laps but still only taking 4 bottles of Perpeteum.  Another was the difficulty of drinking when physically exhausted and also feeling slightly nauseous and getting sick of the taste.  I really need to crack this problem if I’m going to finish the Maxi.  I’ll stick with Perpeteum, as I think that it definitely meets the food requirements of an endurance athlete.  Two suggestions of Colin Anderson are worth considering – keep it chilled and, as the laps mount, add Gel to it.  The latter will help with flavour and will keep the carb intake up when I begin struggling.  I’ve got to get this right!

Emotional exhaustion.  This one really took me by surprise.  My sudden weeping and unplanned sleep only 50 km from the end cost me 30-40 minutes, maybe even longer.  It wasn’t a failure in will power; I was in a state of exhaustion and just went with the flow without even thinking.  I don’t think that this will be such an issue again, as I now know what to look out for.  This doesn’t mean that I won’t have emotional downs, especially as I continue to increase my distances.  Many endurance cyclists talk about crying.  It just means that I will be conscious of it and not allow it to divert me from my game plan without me realising it.  I've got to watch out for this though!

Pain.  Pain is inevitable with such long rides and has the potential of considerably reducing performance.  I need to develop ways of reducing the extent of its onset and managing to deal with it when it comes.  I was actually very lucky during the Ultimate.  The only pain I was aware of was very sore arms.  This probably slowed my pace by distracting me, making my style less smooth, and forcing me into less efficient riding positions.  The key thing here is for me to continue working on improving my style so as not to use my arms as much.  I would also like to include pain management more in my training rides, such as continuing to ride at pace despite burning legs and, while doing so, focussing on keeping my mind above it all and on retaining that smooth riding style.

It was not until after the Ultimate that I was aware of other sources of pain – acutely sore knees, painful hamstrings, and bruised and burnt bum (although thankfully no broken skin).  But, for one reason or another, they did not bother me on the ride.  Thank goodness!  For the Maxi, I’ll continue to watch my style, especially in sheltering my knees from unnecessary stress.  I’ll also wash myself and change my pants at the half way mark, so as to reduce the chance of infection and to change (hopefully) the areas of pressure.

Resting.  I’m not sure about this one.  I didn’t plan any rest in the Ultimate, and it wasn’t until the 340 km mark that I started having the odd one.  My theory is that what makes or breaks endurance races is the time off the saddle; i.e. the less the better.  However, it is also possible that a short rest may make a difference and actually recharge flagging physical and emotional energies.  The trick is to know the correct balance.  The rests that I remember taking at the Ultimate were at the 340 km, 370 km, 400 km, 440 km and (the long) 450 km points.  I suspect that I should not have taken the first three of these and that the last one, if taken at all, should have been later and a lot shorter.  It will probably only be experience that will teach me what is best.

Sleep.  Sleep was just not an issue at all, at least not to the extent that I had feared.  Sure, I fell asleep for a short spell 50 km from the end, but this was more a side product of emotional exhaustion than anything else.  Excitement, drive and the sense of urgency that comes with racing may have helped.  Meeting Helen every now and then may have also helped.  I also suspect that a key part may be that Perpeteum has caffeine in it.  Will sleep be a problem in the Maxi?  I don’t know, but plan to ride it without sleep.  I imagine that there will be a great temptation to sleep on the last leg, especially because of absolute physical tiredness, but this probably needs to be resisted.

Sense of urgency.  Don’t stop; keep the legs going; don’t rest; don’t waste time; keep moving forward!  I found keeping the sense that the thing is a race and that no time should be wasted to be crucial.  This is especially so for such a long race.  That energy and sense of urgency should never flag!  I felt that I did this very well in the Ultimate, but obviously there is room for improvement for the latter part of the race.

Fitness.  Surprisingly, my level of fitness was adequate for the Ultimate.  Not bad for only one bike ride and two 40 minute spin sessions a week.  I managed to not only keep up with but also to pull my weight in the bunch for the fast 40 km that there was a bunch.  I also managed to keep a good speed for 350 km before I started to flag.  Following the above mentioned strategies should enable me to do considerably better on my next Ultimate, even without doing more training.  However, the Maxi is another beast altogether.  I will definitely need to up my training if I’m going to complete it.  My main change will be more hours on a bike.  This will be through adding a group ride on Sunday morning and one or two nights doing 2 hour rides during the week (with the latter replacing the 40 minute spins).  The short, hard spurts of riding involved in group riding will be a useful addition to my fitness training and I will include interval training in the night rides.  Recovery will need to be a vital part in all this, as well as keeping up the fun levels and making sure that I don’t get stale and lose energy and commitment.

Cramp.  Cramp was an issue with the Ultimate and also with my last Enduro.  The hard work with both would have been one reason.  But I probably was not taking enough electrolytes to replace what I was losing.  Easily dealt with!

Final comment.  While the first laps will be important in setting me up for the final lap, it is that final lap that will be the make-or-break one.  It is the one that should  be the focus of my training efforts.  All of the above points will be important if I am to complete it and do so with a good time.  I need to keep the fuel up.  I need to keep up that focus, that sense of urgency and desire to compete!  I've got to watch out for the traps of sleep deprivation and emotional tricks.  Most of all, I've got to manage pain and basically tough it out.  In the end, it will be a case of HTFU (i.e. Cycling Rule No. 5)!

The Graperide Ultimate, 2012

For those more interested in photos rather than the blog, I’ve put the few photos we took at the top of it.  If you’re slightly more insane, have a look through the blog itself.  But be warned – it’s long!

Pre-race meeting

Pre-race meeting

Waiting for the gun

Tim O'Brien and Andrew Morrison - at start

Stu Downs

Andrew Morrison

Dusk at the start/finish transition zone

Dawn in the Sounds

Some of these recollections are a bit hazy, but I’ve done my best.  My apologies if I’ve got any of it wrong.  It was largely written on Saturday night, i.e. the night of the race finish.  I had died for about an hour during the 6pm news, but was then awake and buzzing into the wee hours of the next day.

This was a really big race for me, being 185 km longer than anything I’d ridden before and going throughout the night and day.  Surprisingly, I was not in the least nervous.  Usually I have a sick feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach leading up to a race, but not this time around.  Maybe I just thought I had prepared, organised and strategized enough, so could just relax and go with the flow.

I’d worked out that being well rested would be important, but hadn’t slept well the previous nights.  This lack of sleep was added to by spending the night before the race at the Motor Lodge right next to the bridge on the No. 1 highway at the north end of Blenheim.  Trucks thundered past throughout the night, on their way to and from the ferries, changing gears or braking right next to us.  But all up, it didn’t matter.  Lack of sleep proved to be no problem at all the next day!

As we gathered for the race, I went around introducing myself to the people near me.  Most were not that interested in further conversation, so I left them to it.  I was very relaxed as we gathered for the pre-race meeting.  It would be a long day and there would be heaps of suffering to come.  But that was ages away.  I had nothing to prove and no time to beat; only to try my very best.  So I just enjoyed the moment, listening to what the guy had to say and looking around with interest at my fellow riders and the small band of supporters gathered around to watch.  We then casually wheeled our bikes on to the road.  I placed myself at the back, the best place for a newbie to look and learn.  And we were off!

(Photo from Renate Paschke)
At the start. I'm the right-most rider

(Photo from Renate Paschke)
Just after the start. There's Helen with camera and me (no. 806)

There were around 12 of us (I’m not sure of the exact numbers, as the results aren’t up yet).  We cycled south into Renwick, then east through Renwick and onto Old Renwick Road.  It would be around 14 km of straight road to Blenheim.  Comically, before we’d gone very far, we were forced to stop and dismount at a road work’s stop sign.  Then it was down to business.  We formed into a loose pack, with some sort of rotation going, but it was generally pretty relaxed.  Once when I was at the front, I joked with the rider next to me (Tim O’Brien) that it would be the only time that I would be winning this sort of race.

Then it was into Blenheim, turning left and heading north to Picton along the No. 1 state highway.  We still largely stayed together as one group.  I’m not at all experienced with hard-out bike racing, so watched with interest at the dynamics of what was happening.  The pace was really fast, with the bunch breaking up a few times, then joining up again.  There was only a very informal system of rotation, with it often breaking down and people just sheltering behind one guy.  There seemed to be a whole lot of tactical manoeuvring going on, which I couldn’t quite figure out.  Although new to this, I didn’t want to be thought a shirker, so made sure to take my share at the front.  At one stage, as Colin Anderson passed to take the lead, he said a few words to me.  I didn’t really hear him, but got the impression that he was advising me (a newbie) to go easy on myself.  He was probably saying something totally different, but I was more cautious after that. 

Later on, I noticed that a guy with a yellow top (Nicholas Tollemach) had pulled away and was out by himself.  Finally the group broke into two, with me in the second one, although there may well have been further bunches behind.  By the time we reached the Elevation, the group was well and truly fragmented.  The pace all around had been very fast and I think would have burnt some people out and contributed to them pulling out in later laps.

I really enjoyed charging down the Elevation into Picton.  The road is steep, relatively straight, and fast.  We were then quickly through the outskirts of Picton and up the hill at the start of Queen Charlotte Drive.  As we cycled up the first bit, I felt relaxed and had a bit of a chat with Tim O’Brien.  We worked out that we were both members of the Vorb discussion group.  Looking behind him, I could see Owe Paschke, but I wasn’t sure where everyone else was relative to us.  I soon settled down into my own pace and slowly pulled away from them.

Queen Charlotte Drive is great when you’re fresh.  The initial hill is immediately followed by another one, the highest on the ride.  It’s fun to climb – not really that steep but steep enough to be challenging.  With lots of tight corners, there are always new views to surprise.  I tend to use a very low gear with a high cadence when climbing hills, and find that I can quickly outpace quite a few people without getting too tired.  Training on the Wellington hills helps too.  However, for some strange reason, that hill got longer and steeper as the laps mounted up!  At the peak, the downhill part starts almost immediately.  It’s fantastic fun swooping around the corners, with absolute concentration and adrenalin pumping through the body.  I’ve ridden the road before – at the end of last year – and found that a lot of loose gravel and stones made it treacherous around those bends.  But it had been swept well for the event and was a pleasure to ride.

After the main hill, there is probably about 8 kilometres or so of undulating hills.  Again, with the tight corners, narrow road, and this time the sharp ups and downs, it is exhilarating stuff.  On reflection, I was still pretty fuelled up on adrenalin and would continue to be for the rest of the first lap.

My plan was a quick stop at around the half way mark, where I would drop off my two empty bottles with Helen (who would be supporting me) and replace them with another two full of Hammer Perpeteum.  However, before long I was out of drink and my bike computer was showing that we were well over the 50 km mark.  By the time I got to her, it showed that I’d done more than 65 km.  “How far are we from the start?” I asked.  “Just over 50 km”, was the reply.  Not wanting to argue with my support crew, I left it at that.  But, as I cycled on, I was soon just amazed at the stunning pace I was setting –  almost at Havelock!  Then it dawned on me.  The computer’s settings were wrong.  I’d changed the batteries and just accepted the default settings.  Bugger!

From where Helen had based herself, there was some more undulating road, then it was on to the Stillwater flats.  Once on the flats, I was down on my aerobars and motoring along at high speed for quite a long distance.  I caught up with Owe, who must have passed me while I was with Helen, and had a brief chat with him.  I suggested that he get behind me and draft but, when I looked behind later on, he was no longer there.  Then it was down along some more undulating road, before the long climb up the second highest hill of the ride.  From there, it’s a quick, steep, windy descent down towards Havelock.

I caught up to Eugene Collins at the top of the short steep road leading up to Havelock.  He was struggling and really didn’t look well.  He’s a really fast rider, but things just hadn’t gone well for him and he was pulling out.  I was gutted for him.

The trip from Havelock to Renwick was great.  Really fast!  The north-westerly that would make the Blenheim-Picton ride so difficult when we weren’t protected in a bunch made this bit a dream.  Working at a high cadence, I just flew along.

My plan was for really quick transitions.  This time around, I would just put a replaceable-battery light on the front, change my bottles, and do nothing else.  In very little time I was off and cycling through Renwick on to Old Renwick Road.  The time was 5:30 pm.

This time around, I was down on the aerobars, focussing on high speed and, even more importantly, a relaxed style.  Then at Blenheim, it was again left on to the No. 1.  However, suddenly I found a huge reticulated truck and trailer stopped at the entrance to the bridge to let the traffic from the other side through.  When the truck was ready, I thought I would do the polite thing and let the traffic that was now building up go first.  It proved a long wait.  Mistake!

The Blenheim-Picton route this time around proved to be tough, with a strong wind hurtling down the valley.  I was often down on the aerobars, even when climbing hills.  Traffic was also really bad, with massive trucks thundering past towards the ferry.  This was also the case the third time around, but it was a lot quieter the fourth time.

Helen was now driving around the course with me, stopping periodically to cheer me on.  Both of us were doing 500 km!  When I passed her on the No. 1, I slowed down – “Can you get the anti-cramping spray out the next stop!”  I was beginning to cramp at the top, inner side of my right hamstring.  I wasn’t the only one either, as I later discovered.  It was the combination of warm weather and the pace I was pushing.  This was a problem well into the third leg, by which time the cooler temperatures may have helped.

I think that I was by myself all the way to the half way point, where Helen was.  A stop, change of bottles, some knee warmers and wind jacket, and my rechargeable front light and an extra rear light.  Then I was off again.  

I think that I caught up with Owe again on the second highest ascent, or maybe it was the other way around and he caught up with me.  We were to see a lot of each other over the race.  I also recall riding some of the Havelock-Renwick road with him, but I think I might have dropped him and continued on by myself.  Soon I saw a couple of riders with two support vans and slowly caught up to them.  Nick Dunne was in the lead and I think the other one was Nicholas Tollemach.  Nick’s support crew was really friendly and complimentary saying that I was doing very well.  Helen also commented what a nice bunch of guys they were, always tooting and saying hullo when they passed her.  I tucked myself behind them and rode along comfortably, with the way lit by the bright lights of the vans.  (As you would have guessed, it was now night!)  After a while, I thought that I shouldn’t just freeload, and rode up to Nick and offered to lead.  He didn’t seem that keen, so I dropped back, filled the gap that Nicholas had left in front of him, and the three of us rode like that all the way to Renwick.

Dropping my bike by the road, I marched towards the transition.  “Helen!” I called.  “Here!” came the response and I waited for her to come over.  It was going to be a quick transition again.  I chatted with a couple of people while waiting.  Still no Helen.  “Helen!” again, slightly more desperately.  At last she came with my box of stuff – she’d had trouble getting it from the car.  A change of drinks, etc. then I was off again.  The time was 9:45 pm.  I noticed that Nick’s van was still there, so I yelled a cheerful “See ya”, and was out.  Hell, I thought (wrongly), I was ahead of Nick Dunne!

However, along Old Renwick Road, I again came across the van and saw Nick with his supporters.  Nick was on his knees and looked as though he was being sick.  “Shit, that doesn’t look good”, I thought.  But there was nothing I could do, so I rode on.

So, it was down the Blenheim-Picton road for the third time.  The wind was still there, but less intense than before.  What was intense, though, were those blasted trucks.  Making this worse was the fact that it was dark and I had to be careful not to go too far to the side.  I’d suddenly realised that my rechargeable light had been on full power all the time and would probably run out of battery soon.  I put it on to half power to conserve the remaining battery.  Sure enough, it soon went, so I was left with a fairly weak disposable battery light.  A bit dicey, but I decided to continue on with this inadequate visability, despite having a head lamp in my pocket.

Somewhere along the highway, Nick caught up with me.  He was really focussed on what he was doing – driving hard – and there was little interaction apart from a curt exchange of greetings.  I considered hopping on his tail, but decided it bad manners to do so and not share the effort, so let him gradually disappear into the distance.

At the top of the Elevation, I saw Stu Downs ahead, just taking off from a gear change with Ruth, his wife.  I don’t think he saw me.  “Well done!” called out Ruth as I rode past, “you’re coming fifth!”  Fifth, I hadn’t even been thinking of my place, just on going as fast as I could.  I knew I was doing well, but this was quite a surprise.  Great support thanks Ruth; I really appreciated your encouragement!  Just down from the Down’s car was Helen.  A very quick stop and hullo, then I was charging on down the Elevation.

A lovely kiss from Helen greeted me when I stopped at the half way point.  “Half way!” she said.  Bloody hell!  It had gone so fast and I was doing so well.  I had never expected this.  It was almost midnight now, so with colder air likely, I put on some over-trou and a polyprop shirt.  Then I was off.

Helen is very generous with her encouragement and calls of support.  Later, she told me that she yelled out “Well done” as Stu rode by.  She was surprised when Stu wheeled around and cycled back to her.  He was quite relaxed and very friendly.  “How’s Andrew doing?” he asked.  “He’s about 20 minutes behind you”, replied Helen.  Stu was surprised.  “Do you know that means he’s coming fourth, because I’m going to pull out after my third leg, as I had planned?”

One thing Helen mentioned at the stop was that, when Stu passed her at the top of the Elevation, he yelled something about Linkwater.  I couldn’t think what it would have been, but when I was approaching the Linkwater Motel, I remembered one of Stu’s blogs mentioning a whole lot of support from the guests there.  What a surprise when I passed the entrance.  There must have been 10-15 people there, seated and looking very comfortable, cheering me on.  Thanks guys.  It’s you who are the champions.  And at midnight!

On from there I could see a red light blinking away in distance.  It must have been Stu.  I hoped to slowly reel the light in, but didn’t manage to.  Instead, I was reeled in by Owe, who (I think) caught me up on the big hill before Havelock.  I was surprised to see him, as at the previous transition he had settled down with a lovely dinner of rice and accompaniment.  I hadn’t expected to see him again.  At last we were at the top – “Yay!” we both said – then charging on down the other side together.  At the top of the short hill up to Havelock, I stood up and coasted on my bike a while.  “Resting?” asked Owe.  I said yes and let him slowly ride away.  After a minute or so recharging, I followed him at a distance of around 15 metres, still resting and enjoying riding by myself.  After a while, Owe started to slow.  “My legs are tired”, he said.  “It’s my arms that are hurting”, I replied, and they were.  I really need to work more on my riding style; I use my arms far too much to support my body.  Wrong!  Anyway, I went to the front and, with the wind at our back, we hurtled our way back to Renwick.

Again, it was a quick transition for me.  Owe stayed on for some coffee.  Jeez I thought, remembering Owe’s comments about his legs, perhaps I really do have a chance to get fourth.

One thing that I haven’t mentioned is just how happy I was feeling.  My approach to the race was to stay positive all the time and enjoy it.  And I did!  Even when riding by myself at the latter part of what would be a tough fourth round, I stood up on the pedals a couple of times, looked around, and let a great surge of euphoria sweep over me.  I celebrated everything I could – the interactions with people and especially the surroundings.  The weather on Friday had been wonderfully fine and hot, with the warmth continuing well into the night.  The dusk was beautiful, with thin strands of patchy cloud straddling the picturesque hills, while the sky turned mauve before slowly fading into blackness.  Sometimes I would take the briefest of moments to look at the stars above and use them to power my feeling of contentment.  I would also celebrate all the sounds of bird life, as I tore along.

The other approach I had taken was one of “Live for the moment”.  Things would get even tougher later on, but they weren’t now.  So enjoy!  It’s a good philosophy.  If only I could apply it to other areas of my life!

So now it was on to the fourth lap.  The time was now 2:30 am.  This was now the furthest I had ever ridden.  In my planning for the race, I had been really pessimistic about about how I would be feeling by now.  But I actually wasn’t feeling too bad.  Things were looking good.

So it was down Old Renwick Road for a fourth time.  Only one more to go after this!  The wind wasn’t a problem here, so I didn’t use the aerobars.  I didn’t use them again on the race, as it was now too uncomfortable.  I must see what I can do to get something like the set-up Nick Dunne used in Taupo.

The road to Picton was still windy, but there was very little traffic.  I settled into an easy pace, just focussing on keeping those pedals moving.  At about the 3/4 mark, I found Helen waiting for me.  I had not woken her up at the transition, but grabbed three bottles in case she slept through and wasn’t able to meet me at the half way mark.  I gave her back the extra bottle to reduce weight.  “There's someone right behind you”, she said.  “How many?”  “One.”  “How close?”  “Just behind”.  Bugger!

And there was Owe.  I was impressed.  These meal and coffee breaks must be giving him extra energy!  He cycled behind me for a very short time, but I was obviously struggling, so he took the lead.  I managed to keep up with him for about 10-15 minutes, but even that proved too much for me.  I dropped off and watched him disappear into the distance.  I felt spent!

It was back to my lonely pedalling.  When Owe had joined me, Helen had come behind us with full beam, so that we could clearly see the road in front.  After Owe left, I started to hear the odd snatch of music.   Then it got louder.  There was Talking Heads, pumping out of the car.  “We’re on a road to nowhere, da da da da”.  A thumbs up to Helen in the beam.  Brilliant!

At the top of the Elevation, I motioned Helen to stop.  “What can I get you?” she asked.  “I’m having a break”, I replied.  I was now absolutely exhausted and really needed a recharge.  Things were beginning to get really tough now.  After a five minute break, I was ready.  “You can’t drive all the way around Queen Charlotte Drive with lights and music on for me”, I said.  “Why not go to the half way stop and have a sleep while waiting for me?”  “We’ll see”, was the reply.  So – it was music all the way to Havelock!

Actually, the music and the company really helped.  I was finding the hills very hard by now but, with the additional help, I could get into the zone and just focus on climbing them.  First the highest hill, then the second highest hill – all with a steady, high cadence. 

Between the two sets of hills, I came across Owe once again, stopped by the side of the road.  “Are you alright?  Do you want a hand?” I asked, thinking that he might have had a puncture or some such thing.  He was just resting.  “You’re fast”, he said (not for the first time either!), as I rode off.  We seem to have quite different riding styles.  Mine is low gear, high cadence, which seems to give me the advantage over Owe with hills and on flats with no wind.  But Owe definitely had the advantage over me when he powered into the wind on the Blenheim-Picton road, with a slower cadence and a lot of strength and power.  He would also soon prove that he had a lot more fitness and staying power.

Half way up the short hill towards Havelock, Helen stopped.  “No, don’t stop here”, I thought, “do it at the top!”  We had been told that there should be no support from 6:00 am onwards, as that was when the Magnum (2x around) was starting.  “I need a break”, I said and hopped into the passenger seat.  Helen tried to persuade me to have a sleep.  I think that she was beginning to worry about me – my second break and I was sitting there exhausted, nearly comatose, with rapid shallow breathing.  I saw the reflection of a light slowly approach the car from behind and pass us, but had no energy to greet Owe.  By this time, Helen had decided that she would go to the start tent and tend me there.  (The previous plan had been for her to go back to the half way mark and wait there for me.)  Finally, I got out of the car, said I was fine, and, after having a bit of difficulty clipping into the pedals, climbed the rest of that sharp hill – ugh!

My pace was a lot slower now and I rode on to Renwick by myself.  There was no catching up to Owe!  However, I did have enough energy to (try to) take in the amazing dawn.  It was fine, but with a black bank of cloud well to the East, and a red, red sky.  The dawn lasted for a long time and I kept forcing myself to look at it and appreciate.

The other noteworthy feature of that ride to Renwick was the traffic.  There was none at first, then the odd vehicle or two, then a few more.  And what did most of them have in common?  Bicycles hanging out the back!  These must have been the pro-elite riders driving to the start line.  What was really fascinating were the toots.  Initially, almost every driver (with a bike) tooted encouragement as they whizzed by.  Much appreciated guys!  But then, as time went on, the toots got fewer and fewer.  I'm not quite sure what the explanation is, but interesting nonetheless.

Finally, I was at the transition tent.  It was now 7:30 am and I found Owe having just finished off his breakfast.  His wife very kindly offered me some spare salmon/scramble egg on bagel.  Yummy!  However, I only managed to finish a third of it due to a really dry throat.  I was exhausted and must have looked it.  Brandon Skilton was there and I asked about his ride.  He’d only done three laps, but would be doing a fourth and then call it a day.  Good on him!  Apparently quite a few riders had pulled out early.  “You’re not going to pull out, are you!” said Owe to me, “I want some company”.  “No way”, I replied, “but you won’t see me until well after you reach the finishing line”.  Owe left and I stayed, continuing to delay the inevitable.  Eventually, there was no more putting things off.  I climbed wearily back on to the bike and left.  The time was now 7:45 am – the breaks were getting a lot longer!

Old Renwick road for the last time!  Only 100 km to go!  I concentrated on being relaxed and keeping pace.  I was really hurting now, especially those arms.  I would look behind every now and again.  I thought the one-time arounders were starting at 8:00, so expected to have them whizzing by me at any moment.  It would take a while until I saw them, though.

Now through Blenheim for the last time!  There were marshalls now.  A couple of hundred metres before we turned left onto the No. 1 highway, the first ones were motioning for me to slow down.  "Yeah, yeah, I’ve actually done this before a few times!" I thought, powering on to the No. 1.  I cut the corner aggressively, probably giving a passing car a bit of a fright.  Jeez I thought, I must be careful, I’m obviously tired and not thinking that well.

I had previously been thinking that it would be good being with the one-timers.  That had definitely been my experience in Taupo, where I got a lot of support and praise from the other riders, something which would have helped take my mind off things.  But by now I didn’t think that would happen here, as there was nothing to distinguish the 5-lappers from any other rider.  I was dreading their arrival.

It took quite a while before there was any action.  First came a van with flashing lights.  Then a cop car and a bike van or two.  Then – piowwwww – three cyclists whizzed by.  Quite a pause, then another came by himself, followed pretty soon by a compact bunch.  “Good on yer mate”, one yelled as he whistled through.  Exciting stuff!  Another long wait and then the same thing happened again, but this time with the elite women.  Nice to watch!  No breakaways this time though.

Another long wait, and then it was the fastest group of the fun riders.  My first inkling that something was happening was a loud speaker repeatedly going “keep left, will you please keep left”, on and on.  Surely they don’t mean me as I was already on the verge?  Anyway, I was not very well disposed to moving over more.  Suddenly I was surrounded by riders, with some charging through the narrow gap to my left.  “On your left!  On your left!”  Then, just as suddenly, it was over and I was by myself again.

After one or two more similar encounters, I too was charging down the hill into Picton.  Christ, my bladder was getting full now.  But, where could I find somewhere to do something about it?  I didn’t want anything to distract me from the hill to come.  Whew!  By the relay transition station just before the road was a lone toilet.  A woman kindly rushed up to hold my bike.  When I’d finished, I took it from her.  “Good luck” she said, but I replied that I was having a rest.  She looked at me in surprise.  “It’s my fifth lap”, I responded, “and I don’t even know if I can make it up that hill”.  She was impressed and we chatted for a short time before she had to rush off to help some other riders.

So I lay there lifelessly, recharging my body and mind, preparing for the climb.  I got a snort of derision from one cyclist as he shot past, looking as what he thought was naive one-lapper who had obviously overdone it.  Well, fuck you!  That was the general reception I got – polite indifference or some words of encouragement to this old codger who was obviously struggling.  Surely flashing backlight, wind jacket and an obvious slow, exhausted pace are a dead giveaway!  Again, so unlike Taupo!  There were some very few exceptions, though.  One guy asked, “How many laps”, as he cycled past me early on in the hill, then yelled to the spectators at the first look out, “He’s done five laps”, who then in turn started cheering me.

The other huge issue riding with fresh riders on a far shorter race was safety.  I couldn’t even match their pace when going down the hills.  It was really nerve wracking, trying to hold a tight line on the left of the road as we raced down around those tight corners that had so thrilled me on the earlier laps.

A great view ...

... but hurting!

I found Helen at the half way point again, waiting with the two drink bottles.  "No", I said, "I'm having a break", and crossed the road to the car.  Later on, Helen told me that the guy who she was next to asked her how old I was.  Helen said I looked like my Mum, who looks really frail, being in her mid-80s and having had a series of minor strokes over the years.  I just sat in the drivers seat, panting away, shattered.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, I began to weep.  Christ, what was that about?  I never realised that I had it in me.  I think that I was so physically and emotionally stretched, it just snapped.  I was spent!

Helen put a sleeping bag over me and I shut my eyes a bit.  She reckons I was at the stop for almost an hour, but I'm sure it wasn't that long.  Anyway, there was still a race to finish.  After some nourishment, including a whole can of coke that I gulped down and a whole can of creamed rice, I slowly got ready.  “Fuel, fuel, fuel!” had been my mantra, but that was out the window now.  I couldn’t bear any more Perpeteum.  The idea of any food at all was anathema.  “No, it’s alright”, I said to Helen, trying to reassure her, “I have goo drops and a One Square Meal muesli bar”.  “I’m coming with you”, she decided.  “No, you’re not allowed to!”  “I’m coming with you!”  So I had the pleasure of Helen driving the same way, stopping periodically to wave me (and the other competitors) on all the way back “home”.

The rest had helped.  I was also with a lot slower riders now, some of whom were obviously struggling.  That was good for me and would take me slightly away from my own woes, as I offered encouragement and support while I rode past them.  I was actually passed by a couple of Ultimate riders looking a lot fresher than I was (they weren't doing the full 5 laps) and I felt really miffed when they didn’t return my greeting.  Each to his own then, I thought.  We really are quite a varied, disparate group of people.

Would I be able to make it to the top of the last hill?   Of course I would!  Once again the way was made easier by passing struggling riders.  “Good on you!”, “You’re doing really well!” I would say, with most of my encouragement being gratefully received.

Yet more wonderful views from Queen Charlotte Drive.

It was a grind down the last leg of the race.  I looked at my watch.  Could I make the end within 24 hours?  There was a chance.  Keep riding, keep riding!  In agony and total exhaustion, I kept turning those pedals.  Cycling Rule Number Five, Cycling Rule Number Five!*  It was a very up and down performance for me.  Some of the time I was just matching the pace of those around me, which was pretty slow.  At other times (i.e. the flat, sheltered bits), it was high cadence and I was speeding past people.
(*For anyone who doesn’t know Cycling Rule Number Five, it’s “Harden the fuck up!”)

Keep positive, keep positive!  And soon I was there.  The time – just after 1:30 pm – well within any timeframe I had even dared think about.  They had told us before the race to just sign ourselves in at the Ultimate transition tent, but the couple of volunteers there told me to go through to the finishing line and the transponder would do its magic.  But I don’t want to!  There was no choice however.  So, it was down on through the lane and over the finishing line.  Now what?  I just stood there, leaning on my bike, exhausted.  The announcer did a long spiel about “Andrew Morrison, who has just completed five laps”.  I didn’t take anything in, but looked around stupidly, wanting to acknowledge his kind words.

After standing in a daze for a long time, I thought that I really should get out of the way, as riders were still coming in.  There was a real carnival atmosphere, with people carrying trays of beer to tables, and huge groups of chatting family and friends.  Everyone was happy.  I just didn’t feel part of it.  I looked around, trying to find a place out of the way, where I could just quietly die (metaphorically speaking of course!)  I leaned my bike with others against a hedge, and went to the shade of a tree to lie down.  Problem!  I couldn’t!  My muscles had all seized.  I grabbed part of the tree, and slowly, straight-limbed, lowered myself onto the ground, oblivious of the people around me.  My race was over!

505 km - FINISHED!

So that was my Ultimate Graperide.  No – that was my first Ultimate Graperide.  How do I feel?  My feeling at the end of the race was one of utter disappointment.  I was absolutely spent, both physically and emotionally, and felt that I had failed!  But after a few hours and now, the next day, I am seeing things more in perspective.  Before the race, I hadn’t even known whether I could finish it.  I had genuinely meant it when I told people that I was competing for last place.  But here I was, footing it with some of my heroes, no matter how briefly.  I had raced at a high tempo for three and a half laps.  It was only then that things slowly went downhill.  I had done well!

What then were my times?

• Lap 1 – 3.30 hours including fast transitions.  Expected time was 4:00-4:30 hours.

• Lap 2 – 4.15 hours including transitions.  Expected time of 4:30-5:00 hours.

• Lap 3 – 4.45 hours including transitions.  Expected time of 4:30-5:00 hours.

• Lap 4 – 5:00 hours including transitions (including a 15 minute one at the end!)  Expected time of 5:00-5:30 hours.

• Lap 5 – 5:45 hours including transitions (including up to an hour "crash" at the half-way point).  Expected time of 5:00-5:30 hours.

• Overall time – 23:30 hours including transitions.  Expected time of 23:00-24:30 hours.

And I don’t yet know my place, as the results aren’t up.  Definitely not fourth!
(The correct results still have to be put up, but I think that it is basically this: 14/15 riders entered the race; 12 riders started it; only 6 riders finished it; and I was that 6th rider!)

So, what have I learnt?  First, that it’s hard!  I wanted to test myself on a longer distance, before deciding whether or not to do this year’s Maxi Enduro (640 km – 4 times around Taupo).  Now I’m not so sure about doing the Maxi, although it hasn’t been completely ruled out.  What about my training?  Even at the end of the fourth lap, I was thinking that my training had been spot on.  I’ve deliberately limted myself time-wise with training, due to work and also wanting to spend time with Helen, so it’s only been one ride a week, although I make it long one.  I’m lucky that lots of it is about clever training, and I try and include lots and lots of hills in my ride.  I also supplement this all with 40 minute lunch-time sessions at the gym during the week.  However, there probably needs to be some changes, as I came up short in the end.  Cycling Rule Number Five can only take you so far!  So, if I’m going to do the Maxi Enduro (and knowing myself and the power of momentum, this in all likelihood will be happening), it’s probably back to the drawing board on this.  I definitely don’t want to waste time on building up long, empty mileage.  Being of a slight, emaciated constitution, it’s vital that I don’t use up my precious reserves.  So maybe its interval work, speed work, lots of hill climbing, and making sure that I really respect the need for recovery.  We’ll see.

Lastly, what did I think of my fellow riders?  I had been hoping for a sense of camaradie from like-minded individuals.  But we’re not all the same.  Despite our common interest, we vary as much as any other group of strangers thrown together.  Our ages vary; our approach to life varies; our reason for racing varies; as does our interaction with other people.  One thing I would like to acknowledge is how special I found some of the people there.  I loved riding with Owe.  Our paths crossed many times over the race and I enjoyed his company.  It was also great to meet some of my local, cycling heroes – Colin Anderson, Stu Downs and Nick Dunne.  Thanks Ruth for your shouts of encouragement, and Stu for dropping in on Helen and having a chat with her.  Thanks to Tim Neal and his lovely wife for their generous set up at the start zone and also for providing Helen coffee in the middle of the night.   Also, the guys in the van supporting Nick were ace!  Great encouragement!

So … until the next time!