Bike Racing / Dream Chasing

IN CONVERSATION WITH JOSH PART 1

To inspire a generation is quite an ambitious undertaking, given the not only the fact that to be inspired takes something of great significance and admiration, but also by the fact that a generation is a fair amount of people.

Albert Camus once said “After many years, during which I saw many things, what I know most about morality and the duty of man I surely owe to sport.”

The allegorical connotations between sport and life itself are often drawn upon, and although many people do not consciously realise it, it is clear to see from the past two weeks that everyone feels it. It is one of the many make-ups of the Human Condition to take enjoyment and interest from things which we can associate and empathise with, and the endeavours of the sportsmen and women of an Olympiad reflect that. We all strive to succeed, to progress, to seek happiness and to ease suffering. Or “Higher, faster, stronger”, in other words. When we watched the events of “Super Saturday” unfold, capped for me personally by Mo Farah’s face of agony and ecstasy upon his victorious run,  perhaps we imagine him as a reflection of ourselves; the image of what can be achieved. The collective jubilation of a whole nation was present on that evening, with the joy, admiration and inspiration clear to see on the faces and in the words of all those who were witness.

But for Mo, the finish line has not come yet, or as Guinness would say; “he is still waiting”. He still has the 5k to run. The same goes for us, for everyone; there is always another challenge to be undertaken. There are 10, 500 athletes at London 2012, but only 302 gold medals. That means a lot of shattered dreams, a lot of distraught athletes, and a lot of what they might, but hopefully wouldn’t, call “wasted time”. I put the question to you; who else has felt like that in their lifetime? You don’t have to answer.

Personally, I find it hard to watch some of the interviews with the athletes who haven’t come out on top. In those intensely emotional moments, immediately after competition, it is clear to see the disappointment, frustration and sheer despair of someone who has dedicated their life to something, but ultimately – in their eyes – come up short. We of course know different. We have the greatest respect for anyone who has that much commitment, hard work, perseverance and courage to try and fulfil a dream, no matter what the outcome.

The greatest victory London 2012 could have in inspiring a generation would be to show the world how sport can teach us so much about life as a whole. Just as my coach has me doing core exercises to improve my abilities as a bike rider, it could be said that 15 years ago, while kicking a football round a playing field, I was working on my core as a person; Working within a team, working individually, experiencing success and pleasure, but also suffering pain and defeat. Work ethics, sacrifice, compromise, and rather obviously – goals. To some, PE could be thought of extra-curricular, but I believe it’s role within any education system should be an integral one. So where is the inspiration to be taken from; the winning or the taking part? I think, as always, it’s a combination of the two.

I just hope that London 2012 makes the absolute most of this crucial time and is true to it’s “legacy”, in realising that it could contribute not only to a generation of future Gold medallists, but of human individuals.

Taken from my Blog at http://www.cyclosport.org/

Despite July being an exceptionally good month for British Cycling in general, for me the sensations and emotions were at the other end of the scale. When your legs fail you, your head is very often not too far behind.

After disappointing myself at two of the big targets of my season, the self doubt, frustration and questioning duly followed. The mind wanders. Seeing endless pictures from friends recently graduated, reading blogs of people cycle touring across the world, receiving the news my girlfriend secured the job she’s spent the last 4 years working to get. It is easy to get down about what I’m missing out on at times like this; thinking about everything I want to achieve in life that doesn’t involve pinning race numbers on.

The Ol’ Poker Face (promise)

Needless to say it was a hard few weeks for me mentally, but as with every other time I hit a trough, I’ve managed to come out the other side again. I kept my feet on the ground, kept my head on my shoulders, and did what was needed to be done to get back on top of things. So after an unofficial mid-season break; a couple of weeks of riding easy, with no real physical or mental stress, I started to rebuild for the rest of the season. Long rides, mixed with motor pacing sessions and a limit of one race per week have seen my condition start to climb again.

Lierde

Last Monday I did a local Kermis, which on a tough course I suffered around in, clocking an average heart rate of 173bpm over 3 hours. I missed the break, but won the bunch kick by a fair way to clinch 17th. It was a hard day, but I knew it was a turning point. That night me and my housemate Chris Jory drove over to Holland to stay with our housemate from last year, Matt Green, for a few day’s training. Matt is in Geleen, which is in the often forgotten Limburg region, the Dutch land that extends down into Belgium and along the border with Germany. It’s where the Amstel Gold Race is held, and also this year’s World Championships. It really is beautiful scenery, so combined with the immaculate tarmac surfaces and a constant gradient on the roads, also makes for superb riding territory. Admittedly, the fact it was 30 degrees for the entirety of our stay probably contributed a fair amount to the enjoyment factor, but nonetheless I’m sure I’ll be returning.

I arrived back in Flanders with kilometres in the bank, tan lines re-defined, motivation re-installed, and raring to go for the following day, which was a big one over in West Flanders at “Internatie Reningelst”. My enthusiasm wasn’t laid to waste either, as I managed to get in a break of 14 guys after just 20km, and we never saw the bunch again. 130km of through and off was pretty tiring in itself…and then the attacks started; one after the other, for 15km, each one requiring a gurning, grunting effort to hang on during.

Sign On with The Boys

Judging from who was there I was confident I was the fastest, so I only followed wheels, and coming under the flamme rouge we were still together. I thought it was going to be my day, but  with about 800m to go a pathetic split in the group let 5 riders go clear and contest thewin. I dropped my chain as our charge opened up, but managed to feed it back on, and come round all but one guy for 7th place. A good result, and the best of my season so far, but as always it was the thought of “what could have been” that was hard to shake.

Now in retrospect, I can see that in the space of a month I’ve gone from being in the depths of the doldrums, to full of motivation, direction, and good legs for the rest of the year. The bad times often outweigh the good times in sport, and it is a case of making moments like this count that determines real success. On a lighter note, we trundled down to the post tour criterium in Ninove on Monday night, to see Cav win ahead of a whole host of ProTour riders including Basso, Nibali, McEwen, Petacchi and Sagan.

Sagan And I Sharing A Moment

The results are predetermined, but in no way does that detract from the spectacle and buzz of seeing the superstars of our sport hurtling around tight, town centre courses in front of thousands of screaming Belgians. Juxtaposed with my feelings towards cycling at the start of the month; seeing the romanticised superstardom at the complete other end of the sport was probably quite a fitting way to end it.

Taken from my blog at www.morvelo.com

Despite being different from the norm in a lot of ways, the career of a cyclist is no different from any other career in what factors determine success, status, and positions on the social or professional ladder.

On a physical level, there is not really much arguing with how to progress. You train hard, you rest easy, you eat well, you go to bed on time, you stretch, you get massage…yada yada yada. If there is a gain to be made, the chances are any full time athlete is and doing that and all they can to make sure their body is in the best condition possible. It’s the easy part.

Upstairs, between the ears, it’s a whole different ball game. The mental side of competing, as everyone knows, is where the real gains are to be made, because it’s so subjective and uncontrollable to some extent.

Tactics, will power, focus…the mental side of competing is a sea that one could get very lost in numerous books that have been written on the subject, so I won’t go there. From a personal point of view though, I think you’ve either got it or you haven’t. (I am still unsure as to which side of the fence I lie).

The other major player in factors which determine success is one that often gets forgotten, but which plays an ever increasingly important role. The romantic days of sport, when the strongest man won and that was that, are long gone, and although what the spectator sees are athletes competing mano-a-mano, it is just the final product in a long line of widely diverging events that have ended with a sports contest.

As the years have gone by, I have found that it is the same story of WHO I know, that has helped me as much as my performances. Mingling at the start or finish of races, following up on contacts, emailing, general networking skills and the assessing of every situation have all contributed to where I am today, and will certainly contribute to wherever I end up.

Ones status within an organisation (or team) is based largely on interpersonal relationships that every member has with each other. Whether it be for a promotion or a race start, it’s the same game. It is a fact of life that I dislike, but it’s the nature of the beast so I do my best to keep my head above water in this web of gossip and backhanders.

Everything from team selection, to race invites, to sponsorship deals are subject to politics. Even racing itself. Riders forming alliances against others to gain the upper hand, blackmail and bribery are all as common in the last 10km of a race as they are in the wider world.

Being a successful bike rider is a lot more complicated than it often appears, but this is just another reason why I love it so much (and sometimes hate). I am not incredibly gifted physically so it’s probably a good thing that it’s just one part of the puzzle.

Anyway, if it doesn’t work out I’m sure I could pull the right strings at a job in PR or something.

It doesn’t happen very often in Belgium, but at this time of year one doesn’t need to be on one’s own bicycle to be entertained. For 11 months of the year you could be forgiven for opting for a ‘weekend away in Gravesend’, rather than Flanders (said with the same sort of masked affection you would employ when calling your best mate a pleb), but this Belgium’s moment in the sun – quite literally too, at the moment. There’s so much excitement and buzz revolving around the arrival of the cobbled classics that one weekend flies to the next faster than Tom Boonen ascends the Taaienberg.

The best way, in my opinion, to get any real sense of the races from a spectator’s point of view, is to get out amongst the hubbub of it all and go race-chasing. Similar to the popular hobby, Storm chasing, but with more drama and risk involved.

It’s the done thing to do for a lot of locals at the big races – Het Nieuwsblad, E3 and of course De Ronde. Last year I joined the masses and chased the Tour of Flanders around, testing my local road knowledge and managing to see it 6 times. With so many other people doing the same, the scenes can only be described as resembling the type of frantic mass exoduses you see in films like Independence day or Godzilla. With the berg locations so close both geographically and in time, the lead car is often rolling past while hundreds of people are still arriving, and the last rider in the bunch as barely come into view before everyone is running back to their mode of transport – off road things like quad bikes and motocross bikes are often popular for ‘short cuts’.

Anyhow, as my Mum and Girlfriend were visiting last week, it would have been rude not to join the masses for E3 Prijs. We managed to see the race 5 times, which wasn’t a bad effort. Ok you don’t get to see the race unfold, but there are no lack of crowded bars to watch the finish in once you have seen the gory bits and managed to piece together what’s happened so far.

Crowds gathering on The Muur.

Protestors on The Muur (about it’s absence from The Tour of Flanders).

The bunch rolling over La Houppe.

Crowds massing on the banks of the Oude Kwaremont.

Boonen, Pozzato, VanMarcke and Sagan get the gap on the Oude Kwaremont.

Sagan leads the pursuit of Chavanel, Muravyev and Gatto on Le Cote De Trieu.

Now, by tactfully choosing to race this coming Saturday, I’ll hopefully get out and beat last years effort of 6 viewpoints in ‘Vlaanderens Mooiste’, the Tour of Flanders.

This is a copy of my latest blog from http://www.cyclosport.org/

The last two weeks have gone by pretty quickly when I think about my previous blog entry, but a lot has happened since then, with a last blast of big training miles on the odometer and a formal presentation of my team to those who are interested being the main things on the agenda. There was the added spice of spending a short time being stranded in a foreign country too, but now, for the first time since September last year, the next significant date on my cycling calendar is a race.

I left for Belgium on the 26^th Jan, which felt unseasonably early. I was alone in the house for 5 days, which apart from a great deal of shivering, I spent sorting a few things out with the team, getting set up on my bike (Zannatta Shadow made up with Campag Chorus 11 group and Deda componentry), and getting myself  generally sorted for the training camp, of which 13 of us departed Charleroi for on February 1^st.

I met most of my team mates for the first time at the airport, including the only other English speaker and my obvious room-mate for the week, Alex McGregor, who had arrived from New Zealand the previous night, and was thus dealing with time and temperature changes of equal extremities.

We arrived at Pisa Aeroporto at midday, while the van had most kindly met us there, and we duly got changed into our chamois in the car park out front. As a group of girls also remarked upon seeing us; it was cold.

The ride to the hotel in Montecatini Terme was supposed to be a 60km easy ride, but a snow storm and some confusion in a pitch black mountain tunnel put paid to that, so after 1 broken wheel and 1 hour of standing around, we got on with a good deal of teeth chattering, map finger pointing, direction asking ordeal of a ride. We arrived at the hotel more or less in one piece (the DS taking a ‘HTFU’ approach and barely batting an eyelid), and sat down to dinner on arrival day already feeling like about ready for a recovery day.

The main bulk of the week ran pretty much as you would expect – get up, eat, go training, eat, sleep. The first day was spent getting our bearings of our corner of Tuscany, with a 4 hour steady ride. Day two, Friday, was another 4 hours, but taking in the full force of the Tuscan hills, with the added bonuses of minus temperatures, and doing about 10RPM with a severely over geared 25 sprocket. Saturday was only 3.5 hours, but with the middle hour being a broken up into intervals. The next day was when I started to feel the pinch, doing 4 hours with the team and an hour afterwards with Sean Vanderwaeter…your typical 80kg Belgian beast. Another 5 hours on the last day had me well and truly ‘in the box’, and ready to go home, as we rolled up to the hotel. If only that were the case.

Oh no, my time in Italy was yet to be fulfilled! The fact that we had to put our main bags in the team van to be driven back to Belgium, and keep hold of our hand luggage (inc.passport), was just too much for me to handle, apparently. By the time I realised, the van was too far away to turn around, and so I waved goodbye to the team at Pisa Airport on Tuesday afternoon, and continued on my way to Milano, obviously incredibly frustrated with myself, but also a small part silently revelling in the unknown that lay before me.

The Embassy was closed by the time I got to Milan at 6pm, so I didn’t hesitate to step straight out of the station and straight into the nearest Pizzaria. Delicimo. With the important stuff out of the way, I found an internet cafe, located the Milanese Youth Hostel, and made my way there for a 20 Euro night, with free wifi and breakfast included. The 6 other multicultural, multi-snoretonal room mates of mine seemed well within the realms of normality by this stage.

It would have been rude not to eat 6x my bodyweight at breakfast, so I did so with ever decreasing pleasure, and then pocketed provisions for the day as well. In the daylight I realised the hostel was neighbour to the San Siro stadium, home of both AC and Inter Milan, and I had missed the former’s Champions League game that night by a day! Nevermind; onwards to the British Consulate General, and a relatively smooth 2 hour transaction later I had an emergency passport. So with the whole day to kill until my flight, and with the BCG being southside  and train station being northside, I walked there, trying to take in as many landmarks as possible in the 4 hour meander as I could.

Despite an email during the day saying my flight had been cancelled, I was told otherwise upon arrival, and checked in problem free. A suitably disappointing McDonald’s “salad” later and I was on the plane. The team manager picked me up from the airport and I eventually arrived back home late in the evening.

The temperatures were well below freezing for the following couple of days, and as I have a habit of getting bad chest colds at this time of year, I took no chances and did all my training either on the turbo or doing power tests at the gym.

Friday evening was the official team presentation, and followed suit to most team presentations! We were issued with some casual clothing, with just one rider being told to kit up in race gear for whatever reason, and were presented on stage in 3’s, each answering a few questions along the way. With the host’s English being limited, a fellow team mate was put on the spot to ask myself and Alex, the Kiwi a few pleasantries – expectations for the year, how my training has been and such like.  The sound of my own voice on a PA system never ceases to take me by surprise.

After some photos and a bit of mingling with the sponsors, press and public, it was time to go home and get some sleep for the journey back to the UK. Cue disaster journey number 2!

After a 6am start, and destined for a 10am ferry from Dunkirk, my car drew it’s last breath on the outskirts of the port. Smoke started billowing from under the bonnet, so I stopped for ten minutes, and continued when it subsided. A few minutes later, after it had become more ferocious, and accompanied by some worrying rattling noises and a burning smell, I pulled into a lay-by. The engine stalled before I had stopped, and hasn’t started since.

Halfway through my phone call with the RAC I ran out of credit, so walked to the nearest town to get some credit. It became apparent topping up on a Belgian SIM was impossible, and with a capped contract on my English SIM, I sought help from the local “Discotheque”, which was open?! I managed to get a pick up arranged to take me to the port; arriving at Calais 10 minutes after my scheduled ferry arrived in Dover.

Right now I am half way across the channel, discreetly tucked away at a plug socket on the ferry, hoping to be greeted by an RAC truck on my arrival!

It has been a long two weeks, and quite frustrating, let alone a vastly diminishing one for coffee stop funds if the Post Office and RAC don’t come up trumps! Anyway, hopefully it isn’t an omen for the season ahead, and I can seek some positivity in the fact that ON the bike, I am actually feeling quite good, so roll on the weekend of the 25^th.

“Imagine scoring a goal in the Champions League final; the crowds are similar…but for an hour, continuously.” Said Sven Nys prior to Sunday’s world Cross champs. Some might even say that he is playing them down somewhat, but you can see what he is trying to say; that cycling fans really are an extravagantly loud, frenzied, sometimes uncontrollable bunch. That the spectators can get so intimately close to their heros is all part of what makes cycling such a great sport to watch. To commemorate this I’ve chucked a few photos and videos together that get as close to emulating actually being there as possible.

There’s the endless waiting of course,then the emergence of the convoy, then the anticipation, the scrambling for a good spot, the eerie silence, the surprise of the first rider as the crowd opens up,  the sheer madness of the next 200, and finally, a mere 5 minutes later, the deep breath out, and back to the crate of beer.

And if a picture tells a thousand words, then these two videos should be ample. One is from the ’74 Giro, which I’ve posted on here before but is always worth a re-watch for the legendary Tifosi. The other is from “Hell On Wheels”, and like so many other clips from the film, is an expertly put together bit of footage in a fly on the wall style of a stage of the Tour from the perspective of a Basque fan.

Tifosi

Stage 15 with the Basque

It’s that butterfly time of year again. The Pro Tour is back on TV, the calendar is starting to take shape, and rather than conversations about training programs and base layers, you find that spring, Europe, and bike racing are being bandied about in their place. It’s about time, too!

For me this means starting to think about moving back to Belgium, hence the butterflies. With details coming in about training camps, kit, bike, and calendar, one can’t help but look forward in earnest. The start of the season is always like this; and it’s best to make the most of it as there will sure as hell be more tears than smiles by the time the season is through.

This is the first winter in a couple of years that I have been coached, after being set up with a coach through the team. The fact that he also happens to be our landlord, and run the local gym in Zottegem, all helps in keeping things in close contact. I have noticed that the perceived workload has been less than I would usually do. In previous years I would not think twice about doing  4, 5, or 6 hour rides, day after day, throughout the winter, but the longest I have done so far is 4 hours, and it is only in the last couple of weeks that I have had more than 3 of these in a week.  Up until Christmas there was a lot of core work, turbo sets, and some running – ending in me spontaneously running my first half marathon! Like I said, I perceive it as less, but in reality it’s just a more structured, gradual plan. Hopefully this means that by August, I will still have plenty left in the tank, unlike previous years.

Off the bike, I have had a really enjoyable winter. I decided after 2 years spending my winter days working as a waiter and bartender, I needed something a touch more stimulating. Lawrence at the TriStore in Eastbourne was good enough/pitied me enough to give me a Saturday job, and that’s been something I’ve really enjoyed.  Working with bikes with people who like bikes – what’s not to love? During the week I’ve been working at a local gym/sports event business http://www.tlsportsevents.co.uk/. This has been another extremely rewarding job, helping out at the gym, taking spin classes, and now getting involved with the events company too, particularly with my home town’s very own:  Eastbourne Cycling Festival! We have just got back from a week of promoting the event at the London Bike Show, and it looks to be a very promising weekend. TL have even been generous enough to sponsor me for the coming season as well, so I am very grateful to them and The Tristore for their combined help.

I’m going to carry on working until the end of January to keep my funds topped up for the year, and then start preparing for the season properly. I have been fortunate enough to be granted conditional funding from The Dave Rayner Fund this year, so money worries have been minimal. This has the priceless effect of letting me concentrate on what’s important for now – bike riding!

The first main event of the season will be the ‘Viasport Publi-led Cycling Team’ training camp, which is going to be in Tuscany, Italy, in early February, but I will probably go to Belgium before hand, just to sort out my bike set up, and more importantly to shotgun my room in the house! After that it’s the team presentation on the 11th Feb, after which I’ll come back home for a couple of weeks, before finally moving out for good around the 20th. Racing then kicks off on the weekend of the 26th with the early season classic, Gent-Staden.

Here’s to wishing everyone a good year, on and off the bike.

I lost my London Bike Show virginity this weekend, and now in retrospect I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to do so, because what an event it is.

The reason for my attendance was to promote Eastbourne Cycling Festival, as the event has been taken over by TL Sports Events, http://www.tlsportsevents.co.uk/ who I have been working for over the winter. My other employer, The Tristore, http://www.thetristore.com/are also the lead sponsor for the event, so it was clearly something I was destined to get involved in!

The show ran from Thursday to Sunday, but with all bases covered during the week I showed up for extra help at the weekend, the two busiest days.

And they WERE busy.

As a relatively modest stand and no physical product to sell, I am sure we were comparatively not the busiest, but nonetheless we continued to make valuable contacts for the Festival; and for the multitude of things that are going on it is quite a varied list, I can tell you.  I spoke to clothing companies, cycle touring companies, nutritionists, manufacturers, a bloke who’s attempting the world circumnavigation by bike record, and a man with a penny farthing business to name but a few. So enthused were our networking efforts I am now having to resist the urge to put a # or an @ in every sentence I write.

As well as closed road crit racing, youth races, Rollapaluza, and a sportive, there are also the new additions of a trade marquee, cycle exhibitions, a 5k fun run, and a duathlon – so when you think about that, the diversity involved is understandable (and brilliant).

So, stay in touch, get all the info, and enter all the events here> http://eastbournecyclingfestival.co.uk/#, and follow the necessary twitter profiles, @PaulHoldaway1 @TLSportsEvents @thetristore <there ,and see you on the 19^th + 20^th of May!