Col De La Madone – Armstrong Testing Ground

I am currently holidaying in Nice in the South of France, alongside my favourite bike. It’s become something of a tradition for me over the last few years, an escape of sorts, whereby I pack up the bike and pick a location in France where I can try out some new cycling ground, preferably an area which includes one or two famous climbs. This year, the location is Nice (as discussed in my previous post).

Nice is quite a popular spot for cycling enthusiasts, with amateurs of all ages and abilities taking to the roads on all sorts of bikes. It’s also a popular training ground for the pros, with the likes of Team Ineos often seen riding about on these roads and using the mountains for training rides. The roads are quite good in the general area and the coast road from Nice all the way around to Ventimiglia provides both a beautiful and undulating ride, with the option at many stages to turn left off the coast road and head directly up into the Pyrenees mountains.

With a number of challenging climbs available so nearby in the Pyrenees mountains, I felt it incumbent on me to look some of these climbs up, just to see what data was involved and to toy with the idea of maybe trying one out. Among the climbs which I came across was the infamous Col de la Madone (de Gorbio) which begins just outside Menton before the Italian border. This climb is approximately 12.5km long, if you start it from the turn off just after/before Menton on the coast road and although it has never actually featured in the Tour de France, it has a strong association with French cycling and the Tour, primarily because of the notorious Lance Armstrong.

The story goes that Lance used to train on this climb in preparation for the Tour with Dr Michele Ferrari waiting at top for him to take his blood lactate levels upon his arrival. (He doesn’t include this tit bit of information in the interview below, naturally…) If Lance made it up in a “good time”, he knew whether or not he would win the Tour. If Lance was able to maintain 6.8 watts/kg, he knew he could win.

Of course, Lance wasn’t the first to use this climb as a testing ground for the Tour and it continues to be used by pros as a training ground. You only need to take a glance at Strava to see all the big names that regularly take on this climb – Froome, Kwiato, Bardet, Barguil… it goes on and on. So, of course, I wanted to have a go and a go, I had!

I began my ride towards the climb from my base in Nice and took the coast road all the way towards Menton. Just as you head out of Menton, you then take a left turn onto a minor road which heads directly northward and you immediately begin to climb.

Some nice surface at the beginning but it is steep!

The first section is steep – 3km averaging out at 6% – but the first 2km gets up to over 14% in places and plays between 8-10% for a lot of it. The 3rd km gives you a reprieve and drops down to 4-5%, which is a nice break and gives you a chance to take a few photos if that’s your jam.

The road kicks up again after 3km and it more or less stays that way until 8.6 km into the climb – although there are moments where the gradient drops down to 4-5% which feels like a glorious break from some of the steeper sections. So it’s not an all out slog the entire time, which I felt the Aubisque was last year. That being said, it certainly challenging and as I say, there are times when the grade kicks up to 13-14%. You just have to ride through these patches and remember that intermittent reprieves are on the way!

As you continue up this climb, you quickly begin to notice just how high up you’ve suddenly gotten. If you look out (again, at the stunning views), you can see the massive motorway down below suddenly appearing tiny on the landscape and you are way, way above it. It’s very cool, but not for those who don’t do heights so well!

As you tick down the kilometres one at a time, you start to near towards a village called Saint Agnes which is built into the side of the top of a mountain. That’s what you are aiming for. You reach the entrance to this village at about 8.6km and then swing a left turn onto a more minor road again and there you continue into the last leg of the climb.

The village of Saint Agnes, built into the side of the mountain.

2.4km from here to the top. This last section was fine for a while, but it did seem to go on a lot longer than 2.4 km for me – yes it was the end of a 12.5km climb so I was tired but I swear that little dot on my Garmin elevation screen was just not moving at all!! That being said, I have to say that I got into the climb and I still felt able to keep going at this stage and finish the climb strongly, which is something I would not have been able to do last year for sure. Not so long ago, I would have been grinding and grinding, with no pleasure in it at all.

Up, up, up!

Today, I started out feeling tired and doubting that I had any climbing legs, but once I got going and shook out the fatigue, I found I was able for the long climb and its challenges. It was pretty deadly (as they’d say in certain parts of Dublin!)

So I didn’t break any records and Lance’s disgustingly fast records are safe from me, for now. But it just goes to show what you can do when you’ve put in some good training and go into these things with the right mind set – that I’m here to enjoy it and have a good time. I pocketed another big climb and I took away a feeling of being absolutely chuffed with myself.

Oh and I can’t leave it without mentioning the descent on the way back to Nice via La Turbie. Absolutely class! There’s a bit more climbing out of La Turbie and then a bit of flat, but once you get past this and start heading back towards Eze and Nice, there are no more hairpins or dangerous turns and the road is a bit quieter so you can go all hammer time. Brilliant.

If you find yourself in the area, I’d highly recommend it as a climb to do.

P.S – I really want to tell you as well, while I’m here, that I did have the best ham salad baguette when I got back and had my shower. I nipped across to the boulangerie and bought a proper french baguette and some ham (not in the boulangerie…) and voila – the perfect lunch. Who doesn’t love France?!

 

A Nice Cycling Adventure – The French Riviera

It’s that time of the year again when I pack a bag, throw my bike over my shoulder and head to France for some cycling fun. This year – Nice, Cote d’Azur on the South East Coast of France.

The french Riviera is famously regarded as the holidaying location of the elite and has been so for many, many years. Although there is certainly still a strong presence of this, as evidence by the high price of food and accommodation, the sheer amount of designer shops (Louis Vuitton is beneath my apartment building…) and the common sightings of Ferraris, Porsches and supercars, it appears that the area has in more recent times, also become a holiday destination for the  common person. Amid the Gucci, Versace and Karl Lagerfeld onslaught, there are plenty of tourists and locals trailing around the boardwalk, armed to the gills with inflatable rings, picnic baskets and Lays crisps. It’s a real mixed bag, clearly thriving and asbolutely bustling with people and activity. A happening place, you might say.

I’ve wanted to visit this region of France for a long time, having seen so many pictures and movies based here but it always put me off that it was that bit more expensive to visit. I decided to stay at a small flat which I found through Airbnb and while it is small, it’s very cute. More importantly, it’s clean, quiet and has a wonderful air con system! Accommodation and food etc, is generally more expensive than other parts of France I have visited but I would still 100% recommend visiting Nice and the general area.

Three reasons to visit – It is absolutely stunning, the food is great and it is a cracking cycling spot. My first day here, I took a spin along the seafront from Nice heading eastwards towards the Italian border. The road takes you all along the seafront, going up and down with a few testy climbs, through villages and towns and each corner you turn reveals another stunning vista of the bay. There aren’t enough words to accurately describe just how beautiful the views are – you just need to see them.

I’ve taken a few different routes so far – including a long spin through Monaco, Menton and on across the Italian border to Ventimiglia. That was fun, just to be able to say I did two countries in one day and pass back and forth across the border. Another day, I headed up a climb to a town called La Turbie, and yesterday I took a different approach to La Turbie and continued climbing northwards past this town toward the historical town of La Peile.

Another day I headed westwards from Nice along the coast and visited Antibes and Cannes. Antibes is beautiful and there was a huge market there on Sunday when I passed through it. It seemed like a lovely spot to visit and it’s definitely worth a visit. Cannes was very disappointing – very commercialised and forgettable. If you are thinking of visiting the area, I’d skip Cannes and visit Antibes instead. The Cap d’Antibes in particular is absolutely beautiful.

It’s just blindingly blue sky competing with sparkling blue sea views, and a stream of turning corner after corner of stunning vistas – a touch of heaven!

As ever, the bike has been so great at allowing me to visit so many villages and towns that I otherwise would never have experienced. I also definitely got some incredible views of Nice and the Bay of Angels from the heights of the mountains that I just wouldn’t have ever seen if I didn’t have the bike. What can I say?? The bike it just the best way to get around and explore a new place. I can’t recommend it enough.

I took this near the top of the climb from La Turbie heading into La Peile, an historic village nestled at the top of the mountains.

On the cycling side of things, the roads in the area are generally good and there are some serious climbs to challenge yourself on. Even if you don’t go looking for it, the road along the seafront is itself characterised by a number of significant ascents/descents so if you’re considering trying out cycling in the area, keep in mind that this is not an easy or flat cycling territory. Although it is quite flat towards Cannes – the road has an insane amount of traffic lights every 50m or so for the first while and it’s all main road so it’s not particularly nice and to be frank, it completely put me off ever going back in that direction. I also had a headwind on the way back, which made it even more painful… Not my bag TBH.

The view from Antibes looking toward Cannes.

I’ve a few other rides in mind for the rest of my time here in Nice. First up, is the famous Col de la Madone, which has featured in the Tour de France on many occasions. It looks long and brutal so I may not make it all the way but as it’s in the area, I think it would be a waste not to at least give it a go and have the experience. I’m also thinking of doing a one way spin to San Remo and coming back via the train. As another well known cycling destination, it would be cool to see it and also… one could grab an Italian coffee and gelato while in the neighbourhood!

A tour a l’heure!

 

 

 

Tri Athy 2019 – Race Report

 

It’s been 3 years since my last triathlon race. Until last weekend.

On 13th August 2016, I did my first and only Ironman 70.3 event in Dun Laoghaire, Dublin. I’d signed up to the event in early 2016 when planning out my year’s racing. However, as luck would have it, I ended up getting injured in April 2016 and was ruled out of all running for the rest of the year. As a result, I had to resign myself to not taking part in all of the running and tri events I had already signed up for (and paid for!), which was really bloody difficult. To say it was a struggle would be an understatement. More like a frenzied, demented wrestle with myself…

It was the first time in my life I had ever signed up to an event and then not taken part. I managed to tie myself down for the whole summer, except when it came to the Ironman. My rationale was that I’d already paid the 300 euro registration and I really, really did not want to miss out on the whole experience so I reached a compromise with myself that I would just do the swim and the cycle and then tap out. Needless to say, when it got to that point, I thought ah sure, I’ll just do a little bit of the run, just one lap and leave it at that. I passed my Dad and waving enthusiastically at him to convince him I was feeling great at that point… I shouted to him “Just gonna do one lap, Dad, I’ll see you shortly.” Of course, the runner in me couldn’t quit after one lap and I ended up doing the whole thing.

Whaaaaaattt?

The 70.3 was a great experience, but I effectively ran the half marathon having done zero running training. I hadn’t run at all for 4.5 months. This is something that I would absolutely always warn other people against and was not something I ever remotely would have done previously. I was a desperate person and I reached for a desperate solution. I absolutely advocate that if you want to run a half marathon (or any other distance) you 100% must train for it properly. Otherwise you risk picking up an injury, or at the very least, you are just going to be incredibly miserable the whole way around. It will feel uncomfortable, uncoordinated and unending. In a word, horribl

 

I don’t regret doing the Dublin 70.3 but I would l love to have the opportunity to do it again, on the back of proper running training.

I haven’t done any triathlon events since that race, that is, until last weekend when I took part in the TriAthy 2019 in Athy, Co. Kildare. This is a big event on the Irish triathlon calendar and it includes 4 distances starting at Double Olympic, Olympic, Sprint and TriAthy, which is like an introductory event for people new to triathlon. I’ve tried a number of triathlon events in Ireland but I’d never opted to do TriAthy before, mainly because it was so near to home and I was always looking for an excuse to travel to another part of the country. I was also conscious of the size of this event, knowing that it typically attracts a large number of participants. The more people there are, the more feet and arms there are to bash you in the water… But a friend had signed up to do the beginner event and he convinced me to give it a go.So there I was last Saturday morning, the beginning of June, standing on a riverbank, wearing a wetsuit, bracing myself for submersion into fresh Irish waters and 3 hours of go, go, go. Ah yes, there’s a feeling I remember. The smell of neoprene and plastic swim caps. The tightness of the wetsuit across your chest, magnifying the increasingly quickening tempo of your breathing as the time to jump grows nearer. All familiar. All terrifying, but at the same time, exciting. 

The river Barrow, Athy, Co. Kildare in all its glory

Triathlon has always been, for me anyway, a matter of getting comfortable with the uncomfortable. And I’m not just talking about letting all of the locals see you putting on a wetsuit. And flailing about indignantly as you wrestle about trying to get the damn thing off…

The whole event – the three separate legs – is quite terrifying when you think of it as a whole. Each event is difficult enough on its own, but put them all together with timed, tricky transitions, and do them back to back, can feel like an overwhelming concept. The participant is stripped down and challenged in the most fundamental ways. You have to use your most basic fundamental survival skills just to get through from start to finish. Can you swim? How fast can you swim? How comfortable are you in the water with 100s of other people vying to get past you? Do you know how to use a bike? Are you better than the others? And after all that mania, what do you have left? Because even if you’re a decent runner, if you don’t have a strong enough mind and an iron will, you won’t make it past the 3km of jelly legs that inevitably follow after you dismount from the bike. Running on fresh legs is one thing, but running on jelly legs which are tired and stupidly uncoordinated after 2 hours of swimming and cycling is a different animal altogether.

So yes. You have to learn to get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

So many unpreditable variables with triathlon!!

As I stood on the riverbank of the Barrow last Saturday morning, I remembered that feeling. I missed it more than I knew and I breathed it in deeply, ready to rock and roll.

The event was brilliant. It was a very well organised event from start to finish. Registration was in the Athy GAA club and I was in and out in minutes. Then a short walk down to the transition area, which had been divided up in different sections for each different race distance, thereby keeping each race separate. Each event started at a different time which meant there was a constant stream of people coming and going from the whole transition area the entire time. At first I thought this would never work, but it worked seamlessly, with no mix ups with all the coming and going and it was just excellently marshalled and controlled by the race organisers.

The transition area worked well, with each participant being allotted an assigned space on the bike rack according to their race number. This is a simple thing but it works brilliantly. In a lot of races I’ve been to in the past, it’s just a free for all in the transition areas with no allotted space – you just rack your bike where there’s a space and set up your station there. You have it all set up, looking good and ready to go before some last minute twit comes along 5 minutes before transition closes and rams their bike in beside yours and shoves all your gear out of the way. Inevitably, you’ve already left transition to drop your bag off so you don’t actually realise the arrival of said twit until you come back from the swim leg to find all of your gear all over the place. It throws you off, you lose time, and it pisses you right off. So I was well happy with Athy on this note!

I chose to do the Olympic distance, so the swim was 600m upstream, around a buoy, then 900 m downstream. There was a rolling start, which worked very well, allowing three or four people into the water at a time. The water was fairly cold so it was important to keep moving and keep it as short as possible. It took me a while to get into it and find a rhythm and the water was very cloudy which meant a lot of sighting was necessary to stay on course. Not gonna lie, I was very happy to finish and get out of the water!

T1 was going well until I had some issues getting out of the wetsuit… for some reason I couldn’t get the sleeves over my hands. Not something that has really been an issue before but I’d out down to being out of practice and also being quite cold… Once out of the suit, I was quick getting my bike gear on and out of transition.

I hammered the bike. This was the leg I was most looking forward to. I used to be brutal at the bike and I was always that person getting passed by everyone else, before getting to the run where I would pull myself back up the rankings. But having adopted cycling as my number one sport in the last year or so, I was keen to see what difference it would make. I went all out and thoroughly enjoyed myself, for once being the person overtaking others. What was particularly nice (and new!) was one section when the course turned back on itself at about 30km, such that the flow was going both directions and you could see all of the people who were behind you. I noticed a lot of people with very good bikes who looked like good cyclists and I started to think I was pretty deadly for being ahead of them! In a moment like that, it doesn’t matter that I’m not pretty deadly, but it does give you a nice boost and it spurs you on for the last 10 km home. I averaged about 31 kph for the 40 cycle and I was happy with that.

T2 was quick and I was happy that I did this pretty fast. The only issue with T2 was despite having been no more than about 20-30 seconds changing my gear, my T2 time was about 2 1/2 minutes due to the run out of transition to the start line of the run being sooooo long. Not sure why they didn’t just bring the start line back nearer to the transition area and I thought this could have been better.

The run course was out onto the main road for approximately 3km where the cyclists were still coming in (again, a great psychological boost!) The route then turned right off the main road into a field/ cross country which led down to a path running along the riverbank. Two laps of this and it was over the bridge onto the main street of the town and across the finish line.

Total time was 2 hours 52 minutes, a PR of 15 minutes! Happy out. Ice cream, drinks and chicken curry till your heart’s content at the end! This was a really well organised event and I would highly recommend it for beginners or veterans alike. It was great to be back doing a triathlon again and I can’t wait for the next event at the end of June. It probably won’t be a PR that day, but what it will be is another day to smell the neoprene, feel the buzz and… swim. Bike. Run.

Total Time:  2 hours 52 minutes

Swim:     34:42               T1: 3:18             Bike:   1:17:31           T2:   2:31                Run:   54:24

Am I A Cyclist Yet?

A friend recently asked me the above big question. Cycling along side by side on a Sunday morning club ride having the chat, he turns to me out of the blue and asks “So, are you a cyclist yet?”

This is a big question and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I was slow to answer at the time because while the obvious answer after 2 1/2 years cycling 40 km to work every morning, competing in triathlons and regularly doing spins over 150 km, would be yes, obviously I am cyclist… my inclination is to answer no, not quite yet.

I remember writing an article way back in the day when I first started running entitled “Am I Runner?” which described my initial year of running, feeling out my running legs in the dark when no one else could see me (or recognise me), wearing long sleeve, long-legged everything to hide every bit of me and when 5 minutes continuous running felt like a marathon achievement. It took months and months, races and races, horrendous weather conditions, many big hills and at least one marathon before I felt I had earned the right to call myself “a runner”.

I have always felt strongly that to call yourself a runner, you have to earn it. It is not something you pick off a shop shelf because you like the look of it, swipe your Visa card and hey presto, it’s yours. You’re not a runner because one day you suddenly decide to  go to the Nike Shop, buy an expensive pair of running shoes and all the latest running gear, and proceed to tell all your friends about the big races you’ve signed up to and about all the great training you’re going to do. Nope.

You. Have. To Earn. It. Miles after miles, day in day out, week in, week out. Rain, wind, sun… In the mood, not in the mood.

This applies to any sport. Those people who you see out running at 6am before dawn or 9pm after a full day’s work, day after day, sun or wind or rain, whether you’re not in the mood or bloody sick of running. They lace up, put on their gear and get out the door. It’s the rower on the river at 5 am. The swimmer waiting outside the for the pool to open at 6 am. The hard core open water swimmers down at the sea every morning, with nothing more than their togs, cap and goggles. These people earn their kudos and they own their titles.

We all know people who talk a good race. You know – the type who ask you about a race you’ve just done, only to immediately jump in to tell you all about all the great training they’ve done, how fast they can run a 10km and how they used to be able to run a 2.5 hour marathon… Or there’s the wannabe types, who spend a horrendous amount of money buying all the high end gear (the best bike, turbo trainer, high end brand shorts, carbon shoes, etc) and explain in painful detail all the training they are PLANNING on doing but strangely, every week there is a new excuse for why they didn’t manage to get out that weekend. I know a few people who have done exactly that – bought new bikes, all the gear and no less than 2 years later, they still have not managed a single bike ride.

I don’t care what other people do or don’t do – I say whatever makes you happy, go for it. Do you. If some folks like to buy lots of cool stuff, go for it. If you have no interest in running or cycling, that’s cool too, I’m sure you have other interests. But what makes me crazy is people who pronounce themselves as a runner or a cyclist when they are NOT. When they have not earned it. I’ve always innately felt this is disrespectful to real cyclists, true runners.

If you run, you are a runner. If you cycle, you are a cyclist. That’s it. The rest is just bullshit.

You don’t have to be fast. You don’t have to have the physique of an elite. You don’t have to be extreme or obsessive about it. But you do have to DO it.

So when I was asked lately “So are you a cyclist yet?” I had to think on it, I had to be sure in my own heart and soul that I had earned the right to call myself a cyclist.

I came to cycling undeliberately (not a word…) and reluctantly. It was the third, unwanted, unloved leg of triathlon, but at the same time, inevitable and unavoidable. I used to dread the cycle leg of triathlon events. My swim would be okay and my run was always where I made up ground and found my stride. But I was no good at the cycle and it was always just about getting around and getting through it. But then I injured my feet as a result of marathon overtraining and I had to shelve running for nearly three years. This left me with lots of extra time and extra energy, along with an unhealthy dose of frustration and heartbreak as a result of not being able to run. So I started cycling. Once a week became 2/3 times a week, with Sunday spins gradually increasing to 50km and upwards. I was still slow but I was starting to enjoy it. The peace and freedom of it was something I hadn’t noticed or appreciated before. Plus, it was so much less hectic than running – who knew sport could be like this?? You can actually look around you at the pretty fields and animals, eat real food and oh yeah, breathe. AND there’s coffee stops!

Will cycle for scones. I really am that simple.

After a year of pedalling about on my entry level road bike, I knew cycling had become part of my regular life so I decided to upgrade my wheels and I bought a carbon frame Liv Envie. I loved this bike immediately, once I got over the initial feeling that the bike was tiny and I was going to fall over the handlebars… So much faster, so much more responsive, I started to love cycling and really started to enjoy it.

I joined a cycling club last February and it’s easily one of the best things I’ve done in the last few years. As a runner, I was so used to always training on my own and doing my own thing, so I wasn’t sure if I would take to the group rides. I also was nervous that my cycling wouldn’t be up to the club standard and I was worried I wouldn’t be able for it and I would be holding people up or not able to cycle in a peloton. But the people in the club were fantastic from day one – couldn’t be more welcoming and friendly and the support and encouragement from everyone has been only brilliant. Since joining the club 15 months ago, I’ve gone from my longest cycle being 90km (and felt epic at the time…) to 226km and 4000m of climbing just over a year later.

Hanging out in sunny Mallorca.

Last month, I took part in a cycling endurance event with my cycling club called the Mallorca 312 and I completed the 225 km course. There was in or about 4,000 metres of climbing, it was hot and there was a time limit which required you to reach certain points by certain times or you would be deemed out of the race. In short, it was definitely up there as one of the tougher endurance events I’ve done and it was without doubt, the hardest cycle I’ve ever done. But I loved it. And even more shocking than that, I was able for it.

Food stop at the Mallorca 312 – pure chaos! Check out that blue sky though…

The club group put in months of long training rides over the winter months from about October to April, which saw us take on Sunday spins between 100-192 km(some guys did more than me!) every week, over and back over the Wicklow mountains in shocking rain, big winds and there was more than one occasion of bloody snow. In short, much hard toil and inglorious graft was given by all, each earning their place at the starting line in Mallorca.

Over 11 hours on a bike and still smiling – life is properly awesome sometimes.

Every weekday morning, my alarm goes off. I get out of bed, get washed and grab my jersey, shorts and cycling shoes. I roll out the door 5 minutes later and whatever the weather might be, whatever my mood might be, I cycle the 40 km to work. I look forward to the weekends when I can go for a longer, bigger adventure on the bike, with big hills to climb and fast descents to master. I have cycled in 30+ degree heat in the south of France on the Col de Aubisque. I have cycled 192 km in the depths of winter, 132 km of which was unrelenting rain, wind, hail and eventually blinding snow. Wearing shorts. I have been knocked off my bike by a car who drove off leaving a badly concussed me and my lovely bike sprawled all over the road. I have had many arguments with bad drivers about the rules of the road. I have had many, many punctures, most of which I have managed to repair, some I did not. I have had to carry my bike on my shoulder for long distances due to irreparable mechanicals experienced out in the middle of nowhere. I regularly say hello to and talk to complete strangers as if we are old friends just because they too are riding a bike. My purse has become a plastic sleeve that slips neatly into the bag of a cycling jersey. I spend more money on bike maintenance than I would on my car. And I don’t go anywhere anymore without pressing start on my Garmin.

Am I a cyclist? Yes. I am a cyclist.

Are you?

Would you call yourself a runner? A cyclist? At what point did you feel you had become one?

Riding Around (this wee country)

There are lots of reasons to like cycling. Exercise, fresh air, environmentally-friendly way to travel, genuine tanning opportunity and people tend to think you’re pretty hardy. I’ve also mentioned the coffee stops too and the inevitable accompanying piece of cake. But the best bit about cycling, for me anyways, is speed. That feeling of whizzing through the air, preferably down a hill, wind bellowing past your ears and bringing tears to your eyes as you soar through space feeling like a superhero.

It’s utterly childish and utterly wonderful.

One of my most vivid childhood memories is taking my bike out for a ride one afternoon after school and homework had been completed (I’m nearly sure it was a Thursday afternoon and I reckon I was 10-11 years old). It was hammering rain outside and I just suddenly got the urge to get on my bike. My Dad, you see, was very liberal in his child-rearing views so he wouldn’t have objected to my apparent lunacy of going for bike ride when it was pouring rain outside. What I remember is pedalling, standing up on the pedals and going absolute full throttle down the road from my house, no rain jacket, no helmet (wouldn’t advise this now, mind you!), rain spitting up from the road and coming down from the sky and it felt amazing.

Pure unadulterated, unrestrained freedom.

I felt free, I felt invincible and I felt I could do absolutely anything.

I don’t do stupid things like cycle about without a helmet anymore, but I do still have moments of speeding down hills as fast I can go on my bike, big stupid smile across my face and feeling thoroughly heroic. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

I’ve also taken to being more adventurous with my cycle routes in the last few months – trying out different areas and even driving to a start point a bit further away so that I can explore new areas and unexplored territory. Not gonna lie, it hasn’t always proved a roaring success and there have been some not so good road surfaces and just predominantly boring areas of Ireland that I would quite happily not miss ever seeing again. But mostly, it’s been great seeing new parts of the country and enjoying different landscape and towns of our fair green isle.

 

Today, I took a venture around County Laois. I started from Monasterevin in Co. Kildare and headed towards Emo (because I always wanted to visit this place with it’s very cool name…), then Mountmellick  and on to Clonaslee and the Slieve Bloom mountains. I passed through quite a few small towns and villages along the way. Most of these towns were old, delapidated, small towns with not more than the usual old pub, shop, church and great looking GAA club. I was hoping there might be a coffee shop somewhere along the way but if there was, I didn’t see one.

I like seeing these small towns, as there is something reassuring in the way there are so many towns around Ireland that are exactly how they were 30 years ago. Sure, the cities are modern and progressive with all their fancy dancy wifi, frappuccinos and chic male haircuts, but take a short ride out to the countryside and let you be in no doubt whatsoever – you won’t be getting no fancy wifi down here.

Lest you be getting notions about yourself 😉

This is Rosenallis, not far from the Slieve Bloom mountains. Quaint, you might say.

It was nice to see rural Laois and they did have some lovely cows and friendly locals, but some of the roads weren’t the best (poor road surface makes for gritty cycling…), the scenery was not special and the towns were disappointing. I probably wouldn’t return here again unless there was a cycle race in the area. Rather, I think I’ll be trying out another area the next time.

The good news? It didn’t rain, I didn’t get lost and I had a little weekend adventure – and that’s good enough for me to feel just a little bit heroic for the rest of the day.

Happy weekend!

A Day at the Greatest Cycling Event on Earth: Tour de France

A day’s stage of the Tour de France looks a bit like an instalment of the Hunger Games -an unsympathetic game of elimination in which 198 riders start together and ride progressively faster for 150-plus kilometres until a combination of tired bodies, nasty crashes and mechanical mishaps leaves one small group of riders out in front.

The finale inevitably involves either a flat all-out sprint or an unfathomably steep climb up some ridiculous mountain, where the roads narrow and the riders enter a human tunnel of overexcited fans who lose all sense of self-control, screaming and running around the riders like they’ve completely lost their minds.

The riders battle through the crowds, fighting fatigue and their own mental demons, wrestling with each other as the tension rises and team rivalries start to spill over. Bodies are forced to the absolute max, as riders begin to drop off one by one, ultimately leaving one rider who can grind it out to the line pushing past everyone else, pushing past all the pain, fatigue and aching limbs to say screw you all, I am the strongest today. I am the strongest despite the ultimate test of hell you just put me through.

Fail to make the time cut, don’t bother coming back tomorrow. If you do, you get to go home, rest up and come back tomorrow and do it all again. And every other day after that for the next 23 days.

It’s the toughest endurance event on earth, without question. My own feelings on the Tour de France have always been that if you make it onto a Tour de France team and finish the three weeks, that in itself is a massive achievement. Putting aside placement or any thoughts of winning stages or, dare I say, one of the coveted jerseys. Just finishing the race – is HUGE.

This is a race with no sympathy. No room for moaners, wusses or posers. This race will weed out the weak and spit out the pretenders. It’s part of what makes this race truly great. It’s the hardest and the best of cyclists, competing against each other on some of the world’s toughest climbs across the French Alps, Pyrenees and Massive Centrale.

Brutal.

I’ve wanted to go to the Tour de France ever since I read David Walsh’s book on Lance Armstrong – Seven Deadly Sins. Not for the reasons you might think! David wrote about driving around following the tour as a journalist from place to place, day after day and just being apart of the tour story. Feeling the drama as it unfolded around the French countryside.

This year, I went.

I didn’t follow the tour for the full three weeks, because of work… and other boring reasons. I followed it for a week. I greeted the tour as if came into Pau, witnessing Marcel Kittel soar to victory in a sprint victory, before then moving eastwards to Rodez and Laissac. It was magic. The atmosphere in the french towns on the day the race was due to arrive was fantastic – pure joy and like the biggest parade you could imagine. Old and young come out, all day to line the streets and raise the atmosphere.

What You Can Expect Spectating at The Tour…

You will stand for four-five hours under a hot sun if you want a good spot next to the barriers at the finish line… and you will only see the cyclists for five seconds (ish). If you’re clever, you pick a spot along the route with some sharp corners or on a climb where the riders are forced to slow. That way, it takes much longer for the riders to move past you and you get to see them for longer. Also, these spots are much less populated so you don’t need to arrive here until maybe 30 minutes before the peloton is due to arrive.

You will get close enough to the cyclists after the race to hug them!

It’s good craic waiting for the race to arrive so don’t be put off by the long wait time. You can chat to the other people waiting and get to hear lots of good stories. There’s also the caravan which always arrives ahead of the peloton, which is basically a big parade. The finish line area also has lots of big screens showing the actual race, which you can watch as you wait. If you’re the chilled variety and are not fussed about being right next to the barriers, you can also bring a fold up chair, your book and a picnic and just sit at the side of the road and chill out until the race is about to arrive.

The boys doing their cool-down bit. Bora’s Bodnar was THE break of the day, having been in the break from the beginning and then going solo from 25km from the line, he so nearly managed to hold off the peleton only to eventually be caught in the last 400m. Hate that!

My experience of being apart of the Tour de France was fantastic and I loved it. The atmosphere was definitely worth travelling for and is something special that I will always remember. And as for the south of France, in general, I’m happy to report that it was beautiful, relaxing and thoroughly enjoyable. In fact, I’m already thinking I may be making this trip an annual event.

Tomorrow, Chris Froome will ride his bike from Montegron to Paris with a glass of champagne in hand, tipping his hat to his fourth Tour de France victory. This will be the fourth time he has proven himself to be the toughest, grittiest, strongest cyclist in the world.

Or just the most stubborn.

Making Your World Bigger

I live in a small world.

I get up, put my cycling gear on and head out the door to work in Dublin. I do my work day, mostly in the office in the city centre and sometimes out and about around the country. At the end of the day, it’s back into the cycling gear, train home, make dinner, watch some TV and bed. Gym one or two evenings a week and I also venture out to the Dublin suburbs to stay with my Grandad one or two evenings too.

At weekends, I’m also pretty boring – long cycles around Kildare, Meath, Laois or out towards the Wicklow mountains. Then it’s food, meeting up with friends for coffee around Kildare or doing something nice with my cousin and my little goddaughter. I drink about 5 times a year and go out on the town even less than that. I love a good night out and getting my dance on, but the opportunities are few and far between these days with most of my friends (who I would do these things with!) having moved away or emigrated.

But I’m also the kind of person who is quite happy in myself and mostly content in my own company – reading, cooking, going to the cinema, following sports, whatever. I’ve always been good at keeping myself entertained and finding something to do.

I love my little world. It reassures me in many ways and I feel lucky to have somewhere I feel safe and somewhere I can call home.

But lately, I have started to feel like my world is too small and I have this itch to break out and blow it wide open – run in every direction and see where it takes me – let it tear me down, re-design me and build me back up, one foreign brick at a time.

Breaking Out

I was lucky enough to be given a last minute opportunity at work to go to Scotland for a week to take part in a work-related course. I jumped at it – to my surprise more than anyone else’s… I am such a person of routine – I make the same things for dinners, for lunches and supper – I do much the same things every day of the week – but when given the opportunity to drop it all and have a whole week of newness and the unknown, I didn’t even hesitate.

Funky building in a park in Hamilton where I went for a wee walk

I had a great week in Scotland, despite a wee bit of rain 😉

Big building in Hamilton, Scotland where I was for the week

I met loads of great people with incredible experience, who were a joy to meet and get to know.

I didn’t take any pics as I was driving, but this cool looking island could be seen all along the coastal drive and it was amazing looking!

I saw a whole new country with stunningly beautiful scenery.

I felt free.

This trip reminded me of what life is about and what my soul really wants. I forget this. I forget because the day-to-day needs and foggery gets in the way, clouds my view and makes me forget. It forces my soul to submit, conform and behave.

But I don’t want to conform anymore.

I want to be bold, break out and live in the big, big world around me.

Tomrrow, I go to the south of France to see the Tour de France in person. First stop Biarritz, then on to Pau, Toulouse and Rodez. I can’t wait. Sun, tiny villages in the south of France, pro cyclists up close (and hopefully personal) and pure unadulterated freedom.

Freedom to roam, freedom to discover and freedom to just be me. Away from everything I know, all the crap and away from my little world into a much, much bigger one.

Blistering Sunshine, Biblical Downpours and Irish Summers

I write this from a position from which I confess I may not be able to move from for quite some time. In a very supportive, yet comforting sitting room chair, sheltering from the biblical rains that continue to pummel down from an overwhelmingly pessimistic sky. To cut a long story short, I went for a long ride this morning and got soaked.

It rains a lot in Ireland.

This is not a new concept to me. I’m Irish, I get it.  In fact, I’m quite sure my Irishness makes me part human, part rain. However, the last few weeks in Ireland have been nothing short of stunning with absolute clear blue skies and tear-inducing sunshine that occasionally shines on our fair green isle as a kind of tease, to remind us of the weather we could be having all the time, if it weren’t so prone to the wet stuff.

This was the sky from my garden at 7.30pm one weekday evening.

Take yesterday, for example. Hottest day of the year so far at a balmy 26 degrees celsius – beautiful. Today, not so much. This morning it was lightly raining, with the weather forecast lady promising “rains will clear”. No Lady, the rains did not clear. As I cycled my way up to Dunshaughlin, Ratoath and did a wee tour of Meath this morning, the rains in fact got significantly heavier and steadily worked their way up to being what I would class as an out-and-out solid downpour.

It’s almost as if the universe was having bit of craic with us today – See here now Irish people, a few days of sunshine and here ye were, getting all cocky and carried away with yourselves thinking ye be living the life of Reilly. Now, let’s be putting ye back in your place!

I was like Forrest Gump walking around Vietnam.

First, the rain came the front, like teeny darts to the face, despite the extra peaked cap I had added to my headwear this morning. Then the rain seemed to come from the side. And then, there were times when the rain seemed to jump up from the ground. Mushy socks and swimming pool shorts soon became the dress du jour.

Apologies, I don’t mean to moan.

Really, I don’t mind rain that much, as I said, I’m well used to it at this stage. And sure once you’re wet, you’re wet. What was a real kicker though, was when I picked up a puncture 50km from home and it was yes, still spilling down. It’s tricky enough to change a puncture by the side of the road, but when your hands are soaking and you’re trying to fiddle with little nuts and bolts, it’s not funny. And you just know the people driving by are thinking “Who is that crazy girl messing with her bike on a day like today?”

Irish summers are typically temperamental and utterly unpredictable. Once you reconcile yourself to this fact, you’ll never stress again over Irish weather. Me, I am at peace with this fact but I’m also an inherent optimist so despite my intimate acquaintance with the facts about Irish rain, I will always ALWAYS believe that maybe the weather forecast peeps have got it wrong and maybe the sun WILL come out tomorrow.

My country, I love you. But enough with the rain already.

Going Further

In running, there are certain distances you become accustomed to. 5km, 10km, 10 mile, half marathon, marathon etc. These are milestones every runner grows to know intimately – you learn to recognise how you feel at certain distances and what to expect physically and mentally at different points, the result being that you develop a kind of mental store and psychological toughness that helps you be better the next time. But when you’ve ran enough races, you also learn to know how you can expect to feel at the end of certain distances. For example, even though I haven’t run for over a year, I can remember exactly how I would feel after a 5km parkrun Vs. how my body feels after a half-marathon race Vs. after a marathon.

With Cycling, I find it a lot less clear cut. I could cycle an 80km today and be in bits tomorrow. Or I might cycle 100km today and be up for cycling another 70km tomorrow, no bother. There have been some days recently when cycling 37km to work on back to back days has just knackered my legs. But where is the sense, I ask you?

Apart from being able to draw the obvious conclusion that the harder the ride and more effort you put in, the more it will take out of your body and the slower it will be to repair and refresh. And the hillier the cycle, the tougher it is – also going to tire you out more.

But generally for cycling Vs. running, there are no milestone distances to focus on – or maybe there are and I’m just out of the loop! Oh well…

Some cyclists seem to work with time, rather than distance. You cycle for an hour a few days during the week and then go for a three hour ride at the weekend, for example. I don’t work that way. I like to map out a ride beforehand and then see how long it takes me. Next time, I try do it faster. That’s what motivates me. I’m less good with a “three hour ride” because for me that’s just a licence to sit on my ass and flooter away three hours coasting along at my ease.

So I stick with distance. Up to this year, I’d never ridden over 100km, with the longest cycle I’d have competed being around 91km. So I cracked out mapmyride and mapped a few 100km -ish cycles and worked my way up to them. Then I did a race a few weeks ago which involved a 105km spin around Carlow and over Mount Leinster. I loved it.

Today I took a spin from Naas to Kilkenny, travelling through Athy, Carlow, lovely Leighlinbridge and Bagenalstown along the way. The weather was a bit crap to be honest with dark clouds, some rain and a headwind most of the way… but I was happy out just to find I could actually make it all the way to Kilkenny. Needless to say when I arrived in Kilkenny 3 hours 41 minutes later, I was delighted with life and Kilkenny was buzzing with people, despite the rain.

I had booked to get the train back from Kilkenny to Sallins and had a bit of time before my train was due. I knew exactly how to spend that time.

What is cycling, if not really good coffee and cake?

After all, it’s the worst kept secret in cycling that the only real reason cyclists actually cycle is for the coffee and cake. And it’s worth it every time 😀

After wandering around trying to find a coffee shop that I could safely leave my bike outside without fear of it being pinched, I came across the Pantry on Kieran St., which was exactly what I was looking for. Really good coffee and a good selection of homemade baked goods, as well as soup, sandwiches and hot lunch options too. I really just wanted somewhere to sit down and rest my weary bones for an hour, while indulging in a much looked-forward to pick me up.

Nice design and good, friendly atmosphere, you can’t go wrong.

The staff were lovely, the coffee was excellent and my cupcake was just grand. The bun could have been fresher and the icing was a bit over-sweet, but I was starvers so it tasted great anyway. Good spot and I’ll be back again.

Next Up. Now that I’ve gotten past the 100km mark, I’d like to build on that and be able for greater distances. There’s a clatter of 200km events in Ireland that look fab but I’m a long way from being able to remain upright for 200k. But it gives me something to aim for – oh, you know how it goes… citius, altius, fortius… better.

Happy Sunday & Random Good Stuff

I haven’t bloggged for a couple of weeks and I’ve been feeling rather guilty about the whole thing. So you’re getting me today – me and a summary of some of the random good things that have been going on lately.

But firstly, of course – Happy Sunday!

1. I just finished Holding by Graham Norton. It’s already received a lot of positive publicity with people saying such things as Mr Norton could easily give up the day job, if he wanted to. I don’t agree with those sentiments, purely because life is a lot more fun with the Graham Norton show in it and I get the feeling Graham wouldn’t want to anyway. He’s a funny, funny man and his chat show is one of the very few I actually watch and have the best laugh with. His novel? Exceptionally well written with an amusing storyline and his wit is seamlessly laced between the lines. Very true to Irish people and Irish rural life, I found it enjoyable to read from start to finish – something I don’t often say. I’d recommend.

2. BANK HOLIDAY WEEKEND!!!!!!!!! Second bank holiday in the space of two weeks lads, I’m starting to get used to this three day weekend malarky and short weeks at work. Ah, so good…

3. Speaking of which, I kicked off the weekend by heading out to the Punchestown Horse Races on Saturday with my Mum, Aunt and my Dad. The Punchestown festival comes to Naas every year and while I don’t get a week off work to enjoy it all as I once did when I was at school in the town, it’s still always great to head out to the racecourse for a day and enjoy the festival atmosphere. I left home with 25euro, I returned with 64 euro #ThankYouHorsies

4. Popped out on Friday night to see The Guardians of the Galaxy part 2 (or whatever it’s called – you know which one I mean!) I went along to the see the first one and wasn’t that bothered about seeing it or not seeing it, but actually just found that I really enjoyed watching it and had a good giggle sitting there in the dark. Likewise, I wouldn’t have cared much whether I saw the second movie or missed it – but I went on Friday and had a good giggle and a few proper laughs. It’s so rare these days to find a movie that actually makes you genuinely laugh so if that’s what you’re in the mood for, then grab a bucket of popcorn and head out with a mate. You won’t regret it.

5. Netflix’s Thirtenn Reasons Why – Has anyone else watched this? I’ve been working away at this series for the last week, watching one or two episodes each evening and I’m finding it hard going. If I’m honest, I’ve only persevered and continued to watch it because there’s nothing else on or because I’m too lazy to seek out something better. There’s bugger all on Netflix (Ireland) at the moment and I’m not impressed 😦

6. I recently started getting the train home from work some days and I am loving it. I cycle in to work (Naas to Dublin) every day but it’s a bit of a distance at 37km so some days I opt to get the train home from Dublin to Sallins and then cycle the remainder from Sallins to Naas. Most trains have a bike rack so you can slot your bike in and then sit down and relax for 30 minutes. It’s also dirt cheap at the moment – 4.60 from Dublin to Sallins one way or even better – 3.56 if you use a leap card. Sold!

7. I’m expanding my bike mechanic skills – rather slowly, I admit, but I am so proud. I can now fix a puncture AND change out an entire wheel. I got some new tyres which I popped on all by myself. No, you’re right – there’s actually no skills involved in that whatsoever but I’m digging it. I feel pretty badass, all this self-sufficiency.

If only I could figure out some actual mechanic skills, like how to stop my back brakes from sticking to the wheel. For another day. Don’t want to learn everything in one day or there’ll be nothing new left to learn, right? 😉

Lastly… I’m eating a lot of this at the moment…

I’m a bit fan of Lidl’s version of this but when I run out and am just to lazy to drive all the way out to Lidl, I give in and pay an extra euro for fancy Jordan’s granola. Dry, with milk or my favourite – with greek yogurt and some berries – for breakfast, post-training or supper, it tastes good and it’s a filler-upper. AND it’s packed full of nutrition – oats, good. Almonds, good. Raisins, good. Probably a bit more sugar than I’d like, but it’s about balance people. Stop with all the sugar ridiculousness.

Out.