Lap the Lough 2019 - The Return...

Some background...

When I first started this blog it was mainly off the back of an interesting year in procycling, where so much had happened that worthy stories and memories were hidden by more recent and equally headline grabbing ones and I wanted to simply use this space to aid my recall. It may have deviated from that, primarily due to my irregular approach to adding to it, but I feel this post may hark back to that initial aim as a personal aide memoire. 

So what has this got to do with Lap the Lough? Well, every year between 2011 and 2016 I was on my laptop as the 31st December clicked over to the 1st Jan, which is when LtL entries would go live. I would invariably go for the option with jersey and sign up, knowing I had a full 8 months to prepare.  However, starting with 2017, something changed. I took a bit longer than usual to decide to sign up. Then, after I did, I was asked to go on a training course in Dublin that same weekend, which while, it would have had me home on Saturday night, gave me an excuse not to do it. The following year I didn't even sign up at all- how did I go from uber-fan to "meh"?  

It was probably a combination of things, some personal and some to do with the event itself.  Redundancy from a job I had done for 10 years, helping build a project up to punching above its weight, meant motivation was lacking for a while, even after I found a new job. I also had a volunteering role that reduced time on the bike, But primarily it was the route change in 2016 that did it for me- normally, due to the flat nature of the parcours, if real life did get in the way, you could still make your way around. However the move to Dungannon meant a long climb into the town for the last 2 miles that was a real morale buster- to my mind LtL has always been about people who wanted to do big miles, since every other sportive was focussed on the mountain goats. It was great to have one that was not about smart-arse organisers trying to put a "sting-in-the-tail". While not adverse to the odd bit of vertical (after all the Billy Kerr, Tour of the Orchard County, ABC Sportive and Causeway Coast all have sizeable lumps), LtL was primarily for the person who wanted a challenge but wasn't necessarily a club rider.  Having to stop for a brief rest on the climb in 2016 less than a mile from the finish wasn't great for the old self -esteem. So for the next two years I stayed away.

However 2019 dawned with, initially, a stirring of old interests. LtL announced a new start/finish in the Moy, and I wanted to do some more fundraising. In an attempt to convert a spark into a fire (if not a conflagration), I found old habits dying hard, so at the start of January I clicked on the early bird offer.

 The 2019 Experience...
So how did 2019 shape up for me? Firstly I need to be clear- (caution- a wee bit of foreshadowing!)- nothing I mention is the fault of the organisers. They do a fantastic job setting up and running a very complicated event particularly when you have to work with humans (and let's be honest if the last few years in politics have shown anything it is that there are many more eejits than we may have initially believed possible). However I knew within 15 minutes of starting my ride with 2,499 of my closest friends that my LtL hiatus will probably be re-instated.

Is this the face of a man having an enjoyable day?

• The Start 

         LtL always have the good sense to stagger start times- it isn't the most sensible thing to fire off 2,500 cyclists of varied ability and aims onto narrow country roads at once. The faster riders go off first (those who average 18mph+), followed by the medium folk (14-17 mph- my category) then the slower groups. In theory this cuts down on too many incidents with faster riders trying to push through and get past denser crowds at the start and also allows for solo riders to hopefully find themselves in a group who can ride together at the same speed. 
However, human nature being what it is, and peoples inability to  read email instructions or ability to assume they don't apply to them, means the middle groups tend to have club riders who were too late for their start slots, and too-eager tootlers starting together with us. The end result meant that my bunch of about 15 saw a group of fellas tearing off the road ahead of me and another group with flat-barred bikes and t-shirts dropping behind leaving me on my own- I knew then a long day was going to get even longer.

•  Group Riding Skills (or lack thereoff) 

This isn't a new issue for LtL though it seems to be one that affects it more than other sportives I have taken part in- probably because of the unique nature of the event that makes it attractive beyond the usual target groups. So-much-so I crafted my own take on the Velominati Rules specifically for sportives . While the groups seemed to fragment earlier this year meaning actual close-pack riding was limited, there was still a severe lack of awareness among many of the participants about what was going on around them. Warnings weren't called or passed back, people would turn to look at the person next to them to have conversations (nb it is possible to chat to other people while riding or driving within having to maintain eye contact) and overall just no recognition that events like this can throw Newton's third law of motion into disarray- for in a peloton, every action has a much larger as opposed to equal reaction.  In fact Sunday's event had me questioning some other fundamentals of physics- for example the conservation of momentum. On a number of occasions I was behind some groups on a descent and could see the road going upwards straight away. Rather than try and build up speed and use that to get up the hill, those at the front pootled along, preventing those of us behind getting the extra assistance from gravity before it turned against us. The accordion effect in cycling isn't simply limited to the work of the late Yvette Horner.

There were also two contrasting other groups, each of whom caused their own problems. One were those who were inconsistent in their riding- I would try and sit in with them, prepared to take a turn, but they couldn't hold their line, were inconsistent and dive-bombed each other on corners, while seemingly being oblivious to overtaking motor vehicles. In this case I ended up using more precious energy because it was safer to get away from them and ride on my own. Having to choose between riding in unsteady groups and getting a bit of shelter, or sitting on my own in a headwind for 39 miles on the way back was not a nice choice to have to make.

Conversely the other issue were the disciplined club groups. They were intent on drilling it in pacelines. That was fine if they started with the other clubfolk, but on too many occasions they came up from behind overtaking slower people and not always taking into consideration the conditions when doing so. I lost count of the number of potholes I was nearly forced into as a club come steaming past just as I was about to move out around them.  
As an example- the route covers some of my local roads so I knew that around an approaching blind bend lay a sudden, steep hill and I began to adjust my cadence and gear selection appropriately. Just at that a club group came thundering past, only to almost come to a dead stop as they suddenly met the hill. Not only did they struggle to get into the proper gears, this caused those of us behind to lose our rhythm and suddenly it became a bottleneck.  

• The most hateful stretch...

Again, this seems like an opportune moment to re-emphasise that none of these issues are the fault of the organisers- they are at the mercy of individual's own decision making processes and personalities when it comes to how they ride. They are also limited in relation to topography- if your event is based on the premise of circumnavigating a geographical feature then options can be restricted. So that leads on to what, for each year, has been the most horrible stretch of the parcours. That is from the lunch stop in Clotworthy House to the far side of Randalstown.  By the time most of us reach Antrim, traffic is busy. Leaving the grounds, just as your legs are getting used to going around in circles again after a short break, you are immediately trust onto a busy A-road with really grippy asphalt, and drivers who seem to have an aversion to putting any of their wheels over the white line to overtake. It is constant traffic and then over a roundabout  before heading into Randalstown. Then we begin a long, draggy climb which seems to have been very badly patched  after some roadworks to make it that more difficult. As soon as the climbing stops we are on to narrow roads, which would normally be fine to ride, but when you have impatient drivers, fed up being held up with scattered cyclists, using any amount of space to squeeze past (this year I was actually touched by a car overtaking me at the narrowest point of the road) any relief is soon lost. It is also about then that we pick up the cross-headwind that will be pushing against us the whole way back.

• Take Me Home, Country Roads...

This has been touched on under some of the other headings but was important enough to justify its own section in relation to my experiences. Over the past couple of years the roads around the Loughshore seem to be deteriorating quite badly and repairs seem to have been contracted out to Les Amis de Paris-Roubaix. While car drivers will only notice the worst of it, from a cycling perspective, especially in groups (and extra-especially with groups who don't always call out warnings),  it is very clear on a bike. There are potholes, collapsed edges, roughed up or sunken asphalt and other obstacles that I don't remember from as little as two years ago. This. added to poor group riding, makes the event even more tiring than it should be.

In Summary...
I am aware that this reads like one long whinge fest- however to bring it back to my point in the opening paragraph (while you ask why I just couldn't do that in the second paragraph to save you reading through the rest)- this blog was supposed to help me remember cycling related stuff and I now have one thing I need to be reminded of . And it is simply this- when the registrations go live again in January I can look back on this and remind myself the event probably isn't for me any more.

 Yes, I have some responsibility in that my training wasn't what it should be, but as noted above- sometimes real life has an ability to intrude on the best of plans. But even in years where I haven't been as active on the bike I enjoyed at least parts of it- this year I found the whole day unenjoyable from the start. When asked by a work colleague how I got on, I described the last 40 miles as being like a "dark night of the soul". A wee bit overdramatic perhaps but when you find you're asking yourself where the easiest place to give your wife directions to come pick you up  is, particularly in an event you once knocked off in less than 4 hours and 50 minutes one year, it doesn't sit well. Yes I completed it, but rather than pride it is annoyance that I did it so badly. Was it the physical or mental aspect that made it most difficult? Had I already convinced myself in the run up that I was going to struggle and it became self-fulfilling? I kept thinking about the training I hadn't done as opposed to the training I had and really the fact that people were so generous in their donations was the main thing that dragged me to the line.

So congratulations are due to many people- those who organised the event and also to those who took part, especially for the first time and with limited experience and made it around. Feedback on the LtL FB page is very positive and maybe it is only because I spent the whole day on my own (normally not an issue for a socially awkward individual like me!) rather than with a group that I was so aware of the other things listed above.  But on reflection I have to face up to the fact that LtL is no longer for me and will be looking back on this in about 5 months when the temptation to sign up for 2020 hits again.

I will end on two things- firstly  special thanks to all my sponsors- you were all very, very generous and that was the one thing that keep those pedals turning- I raised over £400 for Craigavon Samaritans and that money (while well-earned!) will go to great use.

Secondly, if you are thinking of signing up for an event next year and haven't done one before then don't let my moaning put you off- I have gone to great pains to highlight that Lap the Lough is a genuinely great initiative and don't want to put anyone off doing it.

Sportivelominati- The Rules...

OK, so this is my first post of 2016. Tradition dictates it should be a review of 2015 or predictions for the year ahead, so I have decided to kick off with... my take on what I like to see when it comes to sportives. In homage to the Velominati Rules I have drawn up my own set for organisers and participants- I will plan on adding to these as the year goes on, the kms go up and the grouchiness increases.

1. Riding sportives does not make you an inferior cyclist.
Invariably, any discussion of sportives online will contain comments that will dismiss them and tell participants to "pin on a number and race". These bon mots normally come from the sort of people who feel simply typing "rule 5"  is enough of a contribution on threads where (usually beginners to the sport) have asked for some advice on climbing, gearing etc. These fellas (inevitably they are usually male) pride themselves on their highly competitive nature which sets the alarm bells in the pop psychology part of my brain ringing. Basically, sportives are great for many reasons, no matter what the self-appointed purists say. They give cyclists a target to train for,  promote social cycling since not everyone's mates are two-wheeled gods of the road and make us a more visible presence on the highways and byways of the land. I have cycled in events alongside Stephen Roche and Sean Kelly, and if it is good enough for them...

2. You shall learn group riding skills and etiquette before the event.
The most uncomfortable part of a mass start sportive? The first few kms until the peloton breaks up and people find themselves in a group more fitting their ability (see Rule 4 for organisers).  This is when the realisation strikes for some  that they've never actually cycled in a group before and  have no control over the braking and manoeuvring in front and around it. Too late now, Buster- relax, sit close to the person in front with your fingers on the brakes, don't be transfixed by their back wheel and watch the second or third person in front of you.


3. You shall let everyone know what you are going to do before you do it.
It sounds like some waffly jargon from some management textbook but never is it more important or accurate- communication is key! Do you get annoyed when driving (yes, often...) and the car in front suddenly brakes and then indicates as opposed to the other way around? Same on bikes except you aren't very likely to fall out of your car and bring other drivers down with you if you have to suddenly drop anchor.  Got a mechanical and need to slow or stop? Then shout out in a proud and happy voice- "slowing!".  Junction up ahead and turning left? Stick your arm out and shout out "left!". AND PASS IT ON! Just because you can hear the person a few bikes in front of you calling out a warning doesn't mean those behind you did. On too many occasions I have witnessed calls not being relayed back- it is everyone's responsibility. I am generally a placid sort of guy and will go out of my way to avoid confrontation- often to extremes (one reason I don't race- well that and my large belly and slow speed). But I do not hesitate to give grief to those who aren't passing on calls. We don't do it to scare people or sound important-we do it because we don't want to come off and take everyone else down with us because some gabshite hasn't called out "hole" or "gravel".

And when I say let people know what you are going to do and be aware of others around you, I mean it, even when carrying out the most seemingly simple action. Coming to a rise in the road and feel the need to stand up to dance on the pedals á la Contador? Then glance quickly behind you before you get your backside off your saddle to ensure the person on your wheel isn't too close. If you stand just as you are at the top of your pedal stroke your bike can shoot backwards which is not a pleasant thing to see if you are following close behind, and can lead to panic braking.  Basically think ahead and analyse every action for its possible consequences on those around you- we all do that then everyone will be safe.

4. Organisers shall stagger starts.
 As already noted, the hairiest part of a sportive is often the mass start. Club riders with self esteem issues that they deal with by overtaking everyone, combined with first timers on heavy mountain bikes, who are more used to pottling along tow paths, and everyone in between moving off at the same time can cause chaos. Let the speedy guys off first, then the mediums and finally the pootlers ( Lap the Lough do this very effectively).

5. Organisers shall realise cyclists have enough bidons already.
Tiresome sorts tend to love relating the formula "n+1" in a proud manner reminiscent of Lord Smug of Smuginton Hall. It is seen as some sort of code, shared between those in the know- an identifier that you are a real cyclist not simply a Johnny-come-lately-person-on-a-bike. In reality, it simply means you spend longer posing and preening on internet forums than actually in the saddle.  For those not yet initiated, "n" is the number of bikes you currently have and the formula is the answer to the perennial question "How many bikes should I own?". Nowhere in the world of the cyclist does "n" equal "drinking bottle" yet you will be hard pushed to open any cupboard in any keen draisienne pilot's home and not be clobbered with bidons falling out. Many sportives will provide a goodie bag, and the best normally include stuff that may be of use (a mini multi-tool, a spare tube etc). But who, after getting the kms in training for the event and devising a fuelling strategy, is going to show up without a water bottle or two? The problem with bottles is that you can only use so many, but they are too good to throw away. Some may be refashioned as tool containers on shorter rides, but even then you run out of alternative uses. So organisers- please- no more water bottles!

6. You shall not live out your pro-cyclist fantasies.
To be fair, the oul curmudgeons have a point when they say if you want to race, sign up to a race. There is always a few eejits who want to drop everyone and feel good about themselves. You will spot them at the start, wheedling their way to the front before the off, ready to get the drop on everyone. They will probably have deep-section rims and aero helmets- on a sportive. And they will hammer it on, overtaking at the least suitable time and scaring the living daylights out of the pootlers. These fellas live life with a Liggett/Sherwen commentary playing in their head at all times-except when they are asked to actually take part in a proper race. Basically they are the guy who has to repeat a year at school- they find themselves doing much better than the rest of their class because they know how things work before and mistake this for natural ability. They are also prime candidates to break the next two rules.

7. You shall not litter
No matter how well organised, sportives are at the mercy of those who live or travel along the route. Participants are going to impact on the routines of these people so it makes sense that we want them onside and happy enough to put up with a bit of disruption. Dumping your gel or food wrappers as you ride is simply not on, no matter how pro it makes you feel (and actually race organisers in the professional scene have been clamping down on this with green zones and some manufacturers now including small pockets in jerseys to put empty wrappers).  I did challenge one lad in a club jersey (I'll not name the club- this time!) throwing his Mars wrapper on the ground as we approached Ballyronan, less than half a mile from a water stop and he looked at me as if I had crapped in his saddlebag. 

8. You shall not use a gel before the last leg home.
Less than 3 miles into an 85 mile event a few years ago, I spotted it at the side of the road. A recently discarded (rule 7) gel wrapper. Seriously-if you need a gel so soon after starting, it is going to be a long, painful day for you, my friend! To be honest I have more faith in the restorative power of Haribo (hence why I very rarely do events during Lent!) or marzipan than gels on a sportive. But if you want to use a gel, save it for the hard miles near the end.

9. You shall not wear the event jersey on the day.
 This is more a personal opinion than anything else to be honest. It can be a bit disconcerting trying to pick out a friend in the peloton when everyone around is wearing the exact same jersey. But primarily I feel the jersey should be a symbol of completing the event, and as such I only wear them afterwards- after all there is a reason I don't wear a maillot jaune or maglia rosa when I am huffing and puffing around my little riding route.  And on a slightly related note- Grand Tour competition jerseys mark you as a target! If even I can overtake you on the draggy climb outside Randalstown then you should get done under the trades description act if you are wearing polkadots.
The other, more important, factor is that you should only use kit on an event that you have trained in. If the first time you put that event jersey on is the morning of the sportive then you are running the risk of making your day more uncomfortable than it needs to be. Jerseys vary in fit and cut and, if you haven't put the kms in while wearing it, you won't know how well it will do its job . What seems fine for the few minutes you have it on when checking it out in the mirror may well feel like you have Brillo pads in your armpits half way through. 

10. You shall not wear white shorts.
This is Northern Ireland. It rains. A lot. White shorts go see through when wet.
I have no desire to count how many hairs you have on the crack of your arse.

(This rule is dedicated to the guy in the white shorts I ended up having to overtake and drop near Bushmills during the Giant's Causeway Coast sportive in 2012- it was a great tactic to discourage wheelsuckers).

11. You shall wear bibshorts.
I understand- bibshorts look ridiculous. Many a cyclist's partner can recall the first time they saw their beau/belle in what appeared to be a weird mix of baby grow and wrestler fetish clothing. But comfort rules above all. No matter how big or small your belly, after 80km a waistband will dig in. You go to the drops and suddenly you feel a draft on your back, and the person on your wheel sees more than they want. Bibs are comfortable and practical. Make sure they fit you and the pad is suitable and break them in before the event. While we have gone beyond tenderising steaks, chaffing is no friend of yours, and it only takes the smallest bit of ill fitting material to turn pedalling into purgatory.

12. You shall check your tyre pressures before hand.
 You know those really wet, grey days or early evenings when it is really dull and you see cars without headlights on? Or when the temperature is near freezing and a neighbour insists on washing their car, allowing the water to flow and create an ice slide in the road? Or when people still vote for the Tories? The individuals behind these affronts to logic are the same who start a sportive without checking their tyre pressures. However, unlike many of the examples above, they tend not to get away with it. Too low pressures make extra work as well as making pinch flats more likely. Too hard and you may as well be riding a bone shaker. A few seconds to check can save ages changing tubes while the rest of the event streams past into the distance.

13. You shall bring extra inner-tubes and know how to change them.
Punctures happen, even when you have heeded the advice of late sage Sheldon Brown in relation to pressures. So bring inner tubes- it is not fair to rely on the kindness of your companions since if they lend you a tube and are then struck down later on themselves your lack of preparedness just made two people's days harder than they needed to be. On longer events think about two tubes (and if you fancy the really retro look, loop one over your shoulders and combine with a pair of goggles) and patches. If you end up going through three tubes and patches then maybe a mountain bike may be more your thing.

Learn how to change a tube-it is the most basic skill a cyclist needs and it isn't that difficult but standing on a windy, rainy day as your friends wait for you, providing you with all the helpful insults you need and the rest of the event ploughs on is not the ideal classroom.

14. You shall bring the correct pump for your inner tubes.
Generally if you are on a road bike you will have presta valves. Mountain bikes will be schrader. Hybrids could be either. Make sure the pump you have with you (you did pack a pump, didn't you?) fits. Do note that while C02 cartridges save a lot of energy and time, they deflate much quicker. The tyre may be flat again by the following day, but if you are really unlucky and puncture early enough in a long event, you may be losing vital PSI before you get home.


15. You shall bring enough food and water.
Logic again- there may be food and water stops on the way but a)you need to get to them and b) have to hope the freeloaders and club guys didn't get there first and helped themselves leaving nothing for the rest. So make sure you have supplies in your pocket for use in emergencies. La fringale is not fun- seriously. A visit from the man with the hammer may give you stories to tell afterwards but when it hits, that last mile will seem longer than the previous 84 together. If you are in your 36 on the front, 25 on the back, the road is as flat as a pancake and you still wish you had a bigger cog on your cassette- that is the bonk!

16. You shall learn to drink while on the move.
Add this to the list of things you need to practice before you go anywhere near a group ride. You won't get away with pulling over to keep hydrated. It can be be nerve wracking when you are in a group, the road is getting a bit rough and you have to take one hand of the bars, draw your bidon, drink and replace without losing too much speed. Make it clear that you are about to drink to those behind you (rule 3) so they can be prepared in case you wobble. It looks simple and with practice becomes so,  but do work on it.

17. You shall not try out any new gel, supplement or drink on the day.
 A few years ago I was getting around one sportive quite well, with a group of riders from my club, some of whom had only sat on a saddle for the first time a few months previously. We made good progress until the last water stop, 22 miles from the end. A member of the group (one of the newer recruits) decided to add a Zero tab to their water bottle, despite never having used it before.  This person is normally fitter than me so it was a surprise that when the quicker ones took off to hammer on home she did not join them (the general rule had been to ride as a group for most of the day helping each other out, then those with the energy and desire could up their pace and head off on their own after the last stop). I dropped back and could see she was in trouble and she confirmed that her stomach was churning. It was then she revealed she had never used Zero tabs before and now she was struggling to the finish. I told her to drop it into the small ring, spin her legs and sit on my wheel the rest of the way. We did make it but it was a salutary lesson- our bodies are different and react to things in different ways, so plan ahead, know what fuel you are taking with you and use it through your training so you know how it effects you.

18. You shall take your turn on the front.
Eventually the big group you have been in form the start will fragment into smaller bunches. When that occurs a few different scenarios may present themselves. If you are in a group of club riders then they will probably start taking turns riding at the front. Every so often their road captain will call or whistle and the riders will change up, with those who were second in line now being in front. This ("through and off", "bit and bit" or simply "taking yer bolloxing turn in the wind ye gabshite" as it is variously called) will continue reducing your overall energy output while increasing your speed. This is especially important when faced with a headwind. So if you find yourself in such a paceline at least try and take a few turns at the front. If you feel you aren't able to take your go then let them know and sit it out at the back. However do not sit there until the finish is in sight and then use the energy you saved to blast past everyone- they are not your personal lead-out train and you, sir, are no Kittel or Cavendish.

19. You shall inform those behind you if you are losing the wheel in front.
In group riding there are two cardinal sins. One is wheelsucking (see rule 18). The other is "losing the wheel". This doesn't happen because you didn't do your QR skewers up properly- it means you can no longer sit closely enough behind the rider in front to benefit from their slipstream. Then the gap gets bigger and suddenly you and everyone on your wheel is now a new, separate group. It sounds like a small issue but actually can have a big effect and earn some withering remarks from those behind. If you think you can't hold a wheel then let people around you know- if those in front don't knock off the speed a bit, then at least those behind you will have ample warning and can come around you. So yeah, it may result in you going out the back door, but it is safe to say that this probably wasn't the group for you and your act of self-sacrifice will not go un-noticed-especially if you need the lend of a tube or a pump at some later time!

20. You shall not look behind if you hear a crash.
Eyes front at all times. Even if you hear the angel Gabriel's trumpet announcing the apocalypse behind you, do not look around. The sound of people coming off behind you is not nice, but if you rubberneck then it is almost certain you will also go from sitting on your Specialized Tarmac to sitting on the actual tarmac. This is one occasion where you can imitate the pros- have you ever watched a race where suddenly the orderly chaos of a compact peloton is replaced with flying carbon and terminal deceleration? The guys in front, despite knowing many of their close friends are currently sliding along with only a thin layer of lycra between their skin and the rough road surface, keep looking forward and the speed up.



21. You shall not whinge if you miss the entry window. 
Sportives aren't just organised a day or two before hand. Organisers will do as much publicity as they can since their event won't work without actual participants and they spread the word as early as possible. For example Lap the Lough takes place at the end of August and entries open in January and the Gran Fondo allows registration from December for the following June. Yet even with so much notice, the organiser's Facebook page in the days running up to the event are full of people moaning and complaining because they didn't get a place. To be fair to the organisers, they are a bit more polite than I would be- the simple message of "you had seven months to sign up so stop annoying our heads you self-absorbed, entitled gabshite" never appears.  If you can't get yourself together to enter with so much time, then frankly I doubt your capacity to actually get yourself to the event on the day.