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.

Suffering for a cause...

We're cyclists and we are in love with pain. From the very first coverage of the classics and Grand Tours, tales are based on adjectives that wouldn't look out of place in a realistic, gritty, war novel. Obviously since the first bike races were held to sell newspapers, and they were the only way to keep the public informed, dramatic tales of suffering and heroism became the norm, since the more evocative and entrancing, the more copies of your paper would be sold.

The semi-religious, semi-martial mythologies of the convicts of the road shaped how the narratives around bike racing were formed, even today with our more cynical and media-savvy populace. "Calvary", "Enfer du nord", "Fight for Pink"- these motifs are still drawn upon as journalists and authors try to give the general public at least some semblance of an insight into the men and women who make their living hauling 6.8kg of carbon fibre up mountain passes or across unforgiving cobbles.

And so- this is quite a tenuous link to what I really want to write about tonight. Yes there is some heroism in suffering, particularly when it would be easier and more tempting just to step off the bike- both literally and figuratively. And there is always room for heroism and dealing with pain alone- however we have to remember that there are limits. Limits where even the most ardent, most competitive cyclist knows that they have reached and maybe it is time to turn around and ask the directeur sportif to let them into the car. Even the best don't go beyond their limits without the support and safety net of a team. And this is not just about physical pain and exhaustion- any sportsperson will tell you the mental aspect is as important, if not more so, and needs careful monitoring and conditioning, just as muscles and the cardiovascular system do. If you read anything about Team Sky and British Cycling success stories, every rider and staff member will mention the role of Steve Peters and how he was as important as the aerodynamists or interpreters of training data.

And this Sunday I will be going through the physical suffering to try and help alleviate those whose pain isn't so visible. I will be doing Lap the Lough to raise funds for Craigavon branch of Samaritans. Yep I know it is only 95 miles (I will be adding a few extra on to make the ton) and many people will see this as no more than a normal Sunday run, but I have to admit that work and other commitments (including those linked to being a Samaritan volunteer) mean that I am already trying to work out my pacing strategy (not helped by the changed route- thanks folks!!). My training has been derailed for one reason and another so it will be a long day in the saddle- a few events that I normally use over the summer to get the legs working were cancelled or postponed this year so I am short in miles - and I only wish this was me getting my excuses in early! But I have a few motivating factors- as well as my Qhubeka bracelets reminding me that there are kids much worse off than any temporary pain I will be in on the day, I will be helping ensure that other people will also benefit.

No matter what time of day or night, or what time of year there will be Samaritan volunteers listening to callers or replying to e-mails or texts sent  by people who want to be listened to. In some cases they are ready to step off the bike, but in many other cases they simply want to be heard. My Lap the Lough adventure will go a small way to make sure Craigavon branch is able to offer that opportunity to be heard- to be the team car handing out energy gels and bidons to ensure the person can make it that bit further,  and hopefully closer to safety so that when they do climb of the bike it is into the safety of a team bus, and not an abandonment with no one around (okay I may just be stretching this analogy a wee bit far here...!).

I'm not a natural fundraiser- I really hate asking people for money particularly in these tight times, but if you would like to ease my physical pain and the mental pain of many, many others my fundraising page is here. And if you can't give that is fine- you can do your bit by simply spreading the word that Samaritans exist, they can be contacted on 116 123 (free call) or e-mailed at jo@samaritans.org .

 (Please note that if you do want to contact Samaritans use those details rather than just through this blog.)

2016 Giro d'Italia Gran Fondo review

So five days later, and I still can't decide which was the biggest challenge of the 2016 NI Gran Fondo- getting up at 5:15am on a Sunday morning or the "Monte Braniel" that came after 6km. Actually the real answer is neither of these- instead it was an unexepected event (although come to think of it, Monte Braniel played a role, just on the descent rather than the ascent). After pushing it up "Monte Moneyreagh" I was feeling good and suddenly the roundabout appeared that marked the start of the fun part. This was what I had been envisioning as I struggled up the climb just 2 hours previously- when gravity and my mass would become  allies as opposed to contradictory elements that had spent the majority of the previous 30 miles fighting with each other. So I let fly, with the security of closed roads. However the individual in front of me wouldn't hold his line and in order to avoid any potential incidents I went wide to overtake him. This necessitated going over the chevrons and my back wheel clipped a cat's eye. I heard that distinctive "nick" sound that deep down means you know your hands won't stay clean today. Instinct meant I was able to feather the brakes and get across to the footpath just as the tyre deflated, around the half way point of the descent. Further hopes of a quick change were dashed when a wee friendly Belfast man decided to have a chat as I popped off the wheel and got my spare tube from my back pocket. Since he was basically a prisoner in his own street until the roads opened later that evening, I felt duty bound to engage with him in a pleasant way, as more and more cyclists flew past. Eventually I got back on, thanked the Lord for CO2 inflators and went on to finish 368th out of almost 2000 people and 20 mins quicker than last year, despite my little incident.

At the start- I am 3rd from left in the front row

 However things could have been worse a few minutes after my crevassé, just as the descent was coming to an end. The road had been coned off at this point to allow vehicles to get up and down  and some gabshite driving a church minibus did a sudden u-turn to get from the lane on the left to that on the right. This brought him right across the closed part of the road and some cyclists, including me were hurtling towards him. Luckily I wasn't up to full tilt after my enforced stop and my dickhead sensor was also quiet sensitive so I had sort of known what was going to happen before it did and was able to get stopped as other cyclists took evasive action. One marshal who saw it was seen sprinting up towards one of the police officers on duty so hopefully the driver won't be as skillful in avoiding their wrath as we were his stupid manoeuvre.

Heading past Strangford Lough and deciding to give the water stop a miss...

So small dramas aside, how was the whole event? Last year I felt kind of underwhelmed with the offerings over the two days, even with the Street Velodrome, and it was the same this year. Both registration day and the actual ride itself seem to promise loads of glitzy stuff when viewed from the outside but once you arrive it is slightly bare- it is lacking something which I can't quite put my finger on. I wanted to go and have my senses fulfilled with all things cycling but I got the impression of a lot of space with very little of any substance to fill it. You could visit the merchandise stall and pick up some t-shirts and those Belfast Grande Partenza cycling jerseys left over from 2014 (still so available it is hard to believe that there is anyone in NI who doesn't have one), lift some leaflets for various tourist initiatives or a wine company, gawp at some Garmin tech, order from a bar, amble over to the street velodrome or watch some of the cycling challenges for kids. The trophee senza fine was available for photos, but having had two taken last year I decided to forgo it this time. Really the only sense of wonder I had was the grudging admiration for the perky announcers at the street velodrome, who have mastered the art of the TV shopping channel presenter.

Stephen Roche and Gianni Bugno were guests over the weekend, but unless you had a few hundred quid to spend to go to the Friday night dinner or happened to be at the very front of the bunch at the start then you could have gone the whole time without setting eyes on either of them. Even the vaunted Maserati pace cars were often spoken off,  yet not really seen. I was at the front of the Strangford group for the first 6km and never saw the one that was supposed to be controlling the pace of our group. It is not that I really care about cars anyway but it seemed to be a good analogy for the event- stuff much promoted and hyped but when it comes to tactile engagement not really living up to the promise.

Gianni Bugno at the start of the Strangford route- helicopter not pictured...

Of course if all you were interested in was riding your bike on closed roads then it was a well organised success. Again  I would have loved a middle distance route but that would add to the logistical nightmare for the organisers and also reduce motivation to apply and train for the long route. The "pasta party" had food that was edible but still there was that sense of anti-climax when I arrived back- so much more potential that someone with the right ideas could make better use of. The goodie bags this year were pretty poor- mostly leaflets although I was one of the riders who got their event jersey for free in the bag by registering early. This was another sore point though- in an effort to provide even more corporate PR, a few days before the start we received e-mails that only those wearing the event jersey would be allowed to start at the front. This was not very well received. I prefer to wear the jersey after the event when I would feel I have deserved it, plus it goes against the cardinal rule of not using new kit on the day of the event. OK I was doing the shorter of the rides and could probably put up with a bit of discomfort for almost 60km, but if you are doing 170km up the Mournes, then a chaffing or badly fitting jersey would be more of an issue. Plus if people are wearing club jerseys, it is easier to work out who is more likely to be used to riding in groups as opposed to those who have ignored  Sportivelominati rule 2 and have decided that their first group ride will be in the midst of thousands of other cyclists.  Apart from the jersey though, the goodie bag was basically a waste of paper but at least it didn't include yet another bidon!

Improvements from last year including ensuring that at least one of the guest stars was with the shorter run- last year a lot of hay was made about Richie Porte being in attendance, but unless you were at the front of the long ride at 7am, you would have to rely on trust that he was there. Roche went with the Mourne Route while Bugno, as pictured above, rode with us lesser mortals (and I even made it back before him!). Reports from the Mourne route indicated that food stops had been better as well. I can't give any feedback on the Strangford stop since I decided to keep going as really there is no real need for one on a 38 mile ride.



In summary- the ride itself was fine and the novelty of closed roads was still worth paying for (this time at least). However if they want to promote it as more than just the Gran Fondo,they need to provide more of substance around it. Will I be back next year? Probably only if they provide a medium course or I shift another two stone and get my climbing legs back so that I can sign up for the long route. The cost and effort to get to Titanic Quarter for a ride that is shorter than my normal Sunday club run was just about justified by the organisation and road closures (errant church minibus drivers aside) this time but for a third year? Possibly not (although come January I will probably be afraid of missing something and will sign up!). So while the organisers still have some thinking to do ahead of the third Gran Fondo (the last they are contracted to provide) I will have my own decisions to make as well. Plus maybe by 2017 more of the participants will know it is GRAN and not GranD Fondo!

The Giro in Ireland- 2 years on...

*NB while many of the links go elsewhere, some will take you to my photos of the Giro in NI- so don't feel the need to click on those if you don't want to! The important links are those at the end.

I headed out on a wee solo run last Sunday, with the intention of getting some hills fitted in since it has been too long since I swore on the sabbath. 2hours 48 mins later I was back, feeling sorry for myself and hoping that it hadn't gone as bad as my body was telling me it had. However the Garmin Edge 200 doesn't believe in white lies or sugar coating things. Strava told me that there were hundreds of people ahead of me on my particular climbs (Map My Ride just told me I had gone up them). I'm not that competitive (since I'm too crap a rider to justify it!) but it was a bit disheartening that I seemed so off the pace. That was until I looked at many of the names of those ahead of me- Iljo Keisse, Thomas De Gendt, Jetse Bol, Jussi Veikkanen, Daniele Colli.... not traditional Armagh names I think you will agree! This had been one of the GPM points on the Giro when it visited Ireland 2 years ago, so I didn't feel so badly done by when I remembered almost 200 of those names belonged to that surging mass of humanity who had sped past the spot where I had waited since early morning as they headed to Dublin the long way.

The GPM point Windy Gap, Markethill

 More by accident than design I had followed this route almost 2 years to the day when I had ridden out to bid a ciao to the Giro after 4 days that I still have a difficult  time processing. Despite having been there, despite having the photos from the team presentation, despite photos of me at various points of the three stages, despite Erik Zabel walking less than 10 metres away from me on Wellington Place, despite watching Marcel Kittel sprint to victory in front of City Hall, despite the lack of Mc's and O's in the surnames of the Strava KoM list- it is still such a surreal assault on the senses that my limited brain power is still struggling to come to terms with it.

My journey into existential angst began a couple of years previously when I picked up on whispers and random, isolated articles online that Belfast council was in negotiations to host the Grande Partenza. After checking the date and making sure it wasn't April 1st, I shared this info to a largely uninterested group on my social media outlets. In my head I had written this off as wishful thinking since this wasn't the sort of thing that comes to Norn Iron...

 

Some gabshite standing in front of the GPM point...

 Things went quiet for a while until further whispers built to a crescendo that culminated in an official announcement. Route maps were produced and suddenly places like Markethill and Carnlough appeared alongside Montecampione and Zoncolan. Part of the time I spent trying to come to terms with what was happening for myself but the majority was dedicated to impressing on anyone who would listen (and many who wouldn't) about what a massive deal this was.

As soon as it was possible I made sure to book the time off- 18 months in advance in fact! It was clearly spelled out to anyone I worked with- my diary was to stay free that week. Then more news- tickets for the team presentation would be available online. It was only a few weeks ago that my Timehop app reminded me what a day I had put in waiting for those tickets- the tweets sent as I sat in front of my laptop for four solid hours in a queue that didn't seem to move. Eventually the cyber gods smiled and I got my wristbands for the presentation.


So I found myself standing in the grounds of Belfast City Hall as Quintana, Purito, Nico Roche, Dan Martin, Uran, Hoogerland, Matthews, Scarponi, Cunego, Keisse et al made their way to the stage in the rain that was to typify the Giro's visit. This was followed by a quick hot foot to Queen's Film Theatre were the premiere of James Erskine's "Pantani- The Accidential Death of a Cyclist" was taking place. The first person I saw was Matt Rendell, whose book had been an inspiration for the documentary but who hadn't been announced as attending. Suddenly all these people I was used to seeing on a TV screen were right there in front of me and again I still couldn't really come to terms with the reality of it.


 Even after the fanfare associated with the team presentation, it didn't seem real. Walking down the Ormeau Road to see the Androni Giocattoli-Venezuela bus drive past or arriving at Titanic Quarter to see the Trek and Orica-Greenedge buses parked with the Harland and Wolff cranes in the background added a surreal edge.

Matt White (rightly!) calling a local cyclist a "dickhead" for racing onto the TTT route during the practice runs or standing at the corner where the Ormeau Rd meets the Stranmilis Embankment as a depleted Garmin team took the corner in the TTT- Dan Martin's fate had not reached us at this stage. Listening to some fella try and impress his female companions by wrongly explaining how the TTT and Giro overall worked (I did fight the temptation to correct him).  Being very annoyed by iPad waving gabshites who on both stage 2 and stage 3 stuck their infernal contraptions right in front of my face as riders approached blocking my view, almost negating the many hours I had been there before them. Descending the still closed hill into Markethill without worrying about cars coming up after the stage had passed. And coming off my bike on down the road after crossing a junction because some eejit in baggy soccer shorts stopped suddenly right in the middle of the road because he was unable to clip in- resulting in a twisted shifter and a new rear mech. These experiences and more all contributed to four days that I will always hold dear. Maybe my confusion is simply down to the fact that even to this day many of those who embraced the Pink and came out in some stinking weather to take part in the festivities still don't seem to recognise just what a massive deal it was to have the Giro on the island. Even today chatting to people at work it is clear there is confusion as to the difference between the fight for the maglia rosa and the Gran Fondo that has been part of the legacy.

So speaking of the legacy of the visit- what has it been, obviously apart from Strava KOMs and the Gran Fondo? Did numbers of people cycling increase? Many would say they had but this answer isn't as clear cut as it seems. For example this report on the BBC site promoting the Gran Fondo's is missing any specific numbers and deals in generalisations. My own club saw a slight increase in members but how much of this was to do with the Giro and how much with the 2012 effect? This debate in Stormont was high in platitudes and good intentions but very little in relation to numbers- note at one stage it is mentioned that the Northern Ireland Tourist Board had not made their legacy report available publically. This report, again from the NITB- it is unclear if this is the unreleased report referred to by Trevor Clarke MLA- does touch on some legacy though some of the stats have been used to give the impression of bigger successes than they actually prove on closer examination. For example on page nine it says that "62% of spectators who currently cycle and 26% who never cycle said they would likely cycle more because of the event". That seems quite positive until you unpack it- does that mean the 38% who currently cycle are going to stop because of the Giro?! Now I am being faecetous but having being interviewed over the phone for these stats (due to having recieved tickets to the team presentation) but I don't cycle just because of the Giro, and seeing it had no real impact on why I have continued to do so (in fact the  wait to try and obtain presentation tickets online actually reduced my cycling since that day's planned ride was cancelled due to it taking  so long!).

This summary on road.cc seems to back up my opinions on the Giro legacy. Please don't get me wrong- it was awesome and I would have it back in a shot. But we need to be careful about attributing effects that are not necessarily there. The key is the difference between commuting cyclists and recreational/sport riders. The Belfast Marathon isn't tasked with encouraging more people to walk to the shops rather than drive so why would the Giro be expected to directly decrease car journeys?  Most new participants are taking part in sportives and even racing but still drive to work. It never enters their heads to ride instead of drive (the rural nature of Northern Ireland doesn't really contribute to commuting outside of Belfast since so many of us live so far aware from work). The best example of this kind of disjointed thinking was illustrated this weekend when some cyclists I know reposted a pic of some dickhead with an umbrella playing the hero by standing right in front of a speed camera as if this was some sort of admirable act. If they truly saw cycling as alternative transport surely they would think this man was as big an attention seeking imbecile as I do, since any attempt to improve road safety should be welcomed by cyclists.

So please bring the Giro back. It would be great to see the TdF starting in NI as well but since the opening week of the Tour tends to coincide with the trouble associated with marching session here, that is less likely. I would especially love to see the Vuelta make a rare foreign soujourn to start here as well. Furthermore, judging by the roads condition I have riden on lately we would also be a shoe-in to host the first edition of Paris-Roubaix to be held outside of France! But let's keep things in perspective and stop expecting such events to deliver a legacy they are not really able to do. Let's enjoy the Gran Fondos (and introduce a medium route for God's sake) and revisit our memories but remember that the lasting impact will be encouraging tourists to come ride our roads and spend their euros and dollars, and not to disuade Johnny or Mary from driving when they could be cycling or walking-that requires a much different and long term approach.

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.

Gran Fondo Giro d'Italia Northern Ireland 2016

The next Gran Fondo Giro d'Italia Northern Ireland will take place on Sunday June 5th 2016. It follows this year's event, a legacy of the 2014 Giro Grande Partenza and first three stages being held on the island of Ireland. Those who took part last year have been given the opportunity to register from tonight 11th Dec, 10 days ahead of general registration being open to the full public.

Obviously it is early in relation to the nitty-gritty, but having just signed up myself, it is clear it will still be two parcours- the 58km Strangford Route and the 173km Mournes Route and roads will be totally closed again. Also included this time in the price (early bird £55 for the 58km, £65 for the pleasure of the more painfully vertical option) is a Castelli event jersey. However if you want to dress up as the ultimate fanboy/girl then bibs, gillet, gloves and caps are also available to add to your basket on top of the initial entry fee. These pieces can be bought individually or all together for £180. There really seems to be a major push on getting wallets open further this year but then again, no one is forcing anyone to fork out on the extras.

I am slightly disappointed that they didn't extend the length of the short route which was one of the complaints many people had about last year. 173km is doable on the flat by most people- however these kms  go up a bit more vertically than a man of my stature could manage before the roads open again so that only leaves the 58km route which is fine for those less experienced, but for club run "B" and "C" riders like me it is a bit short to leave any real feeling of satisfaction. If it wasn't for the attraction of closed roads and the other paraphrenilia then I would probably have passed this time. However managing the traffic over two routes is a big enough job without complicating it further with course extensions.

Me with the Trofeo Senza Fine at last years Gran Fondo

There is also the added attraction of bumping into legends of the sport with Stephen Roche and Richie Porte making appearances last year and a whole weekend dedicated to cycling taking place, and it is more or less definite that some high profile people from past or present will be there. It does seem weird writing about next June as I sit here, balancing my laptop on the sofa arm while trying not to dislodge the ornaments on my Christmas tree but this year demonstrated just how quickly that time goes in, and I have my motivation to up the winter miles again already.

Just before the off in the 2015 Gran Fondo NI.

Annual decision time

It's licence renewal time again, and as ever, I battle with the same decision. Do I stick with my Cycling Ireland leisure licence or go for the Limited Competition one? While navigating a narrow stairwell at work the other day, I realised that the two folks in walking front of me took up the same amount of space as I did on my own, so it is safe to say I won't be dancing up the hills dropping all and sundry anytime soon. My plans to use my involuntary break from work for a month and a half (involuntary since I was actually made redundant) to get the kms up and kgs down were scuppered by actually having to use the time to look for a job and go for interviews. 5 interviews later, I had found gainful employment again but my plan to shift weight only worked in as so much I shifted the weight from the inside of sweet wrappers on to my belly.

Each year I think going for the competition licence will inspire me to get my act together but then reality hits and I click on the Leisure option. This year I had gone further and even selected LC but was then faced with deciding if I was Elite or Masters- neither of which sum up my unique style on the bike (turning 40 next year complicates things further). So leisure it was again. However the one major factor that shaped my decision was the fact I actually lack any competitiveness. I obviously enjoy watching racing but I simply don't have the desire to prove myself against others-whether due to a deep down recognition that I would get my backside handed to me so there is no point in trying, or maybe I just don't feel a gap in my life that competition would fill.  On the positive side of things, it does mean my club can have me as a marshal at all the races we run, ensuring at least one of the flag waving stewards at a junction won't be there under duress and being grumpy because they aren't getting to race.

About This Blog and Blogger...

The blog…

Yep- another cycling blog! No, I can’t promise beautiful photos capturing the mythical and historical essence of the Grand Tours or Classics. No, I can’t promise the insightful, forensically analytical approach of the likes of the peerless INRNG or reach the literary heights our sport inspired wordsmiths such as Jean Bobet or Tim Krabbé to achieve. No, I can’t promise to be the first with the breaking news in all things velo related. No, I can’t promise astute and detailed technical breakdowns in regards the latest technological breakthroughs. So then, what on Merckx’s green earth is the point of this offering?
Simply put- it is where I record things for my own personal use. I was just reading an article summarising the highs and lows, as well as the results, of the past 2015 season and it annoyed me how many great developments that enthralled or appalled me through the year had found themselves relegated to the deepest, darkest recesses of my brain, needing some kind of stimuli to bring to the fore. Basically, this blog is a testament to the fact my memory is, along with my body, approaching the outskirts of middle age.
I don’t actually expect that many people to visit here anyway (and even fewer to stay!) so please allow me to indulge myself-it is basically the 21st century version of me talking to myself in public.

The blogger…

Yep- another male in his (very) late 30s waxing lyrical about the greatest sport in the world. To be fair though, I was very much aware that there was a bit of cycling that happened before Bradley Wiggins and even Lance Armstrong came around. I was lucky enough to be around just as Sean Kelly and Stephen Roche were making history. In fact I can pinpoint the very moment I realised cycling was my sport:

It was Sunday 26th July, 1987. I had just turned 11 a few days before and, unusually in my house, the TV was turned to Channel 4 specifically for a sporting event.  Like many houses on the island of Ireland we were watching the peloton hitting the Champs Elysees and among the mass of colours, one stood out clearly for us- the yellow of the jersey on the back of Stephen Roche. While residents of most other nations were focussing on the sprint for stage glory, we were more concerned with Roche making it over the line safely, which he did. The whole sense of occasion, the spectacle, the speed, the skill… right away I knew my allegiance to any form of ball sport (previously forcibly hoisted on me by the simple fact of growing up a young male) had been but a temporary dalliance- cycling was where it was at. Even the appearance of serial opportunist and professional gabshite Charlie Haughey on the podium with Roche didn’t detract from the event I was watching.

However exposure to my new sport was limited in a pre-internet and  pre-financial independence (well independent of my parents finances) age. Growing up in a semi-rural area of the north of Ireland where GAA, soccer and rugby ruled the roost as far as sports go ,meant accessing information on my chosen métier was next to impossible. I had no control of the television, and the 30 minute highlights Channel 4 showed during the Tour de France clashed with the local news (and growing up during the Troubles in Northern Ireland meant watching the news was sacrosanct). There was nothing in any of the newspapers brought home and the cycling magazines at the time were out of my price range. However I was still keen and, while the history books show that the 1988 Tour was won by Pedro Delgado and Roche was out injured, actually I won it, beating Roche in a sprint on my BMX. (The annals also fail to record that the finish had been moved from the Champs Elysees to the electricity pole in the middle of my housing estate.)

I do tweet under the name @OtisBragg and while a lot of my 140 character mini-masterpieces do deal with all things related to cycling, please note that there will be a lot of politics and other stuff there too.