After a soggy morning for some brave souls and yet more turbo for others, Saturday’s afternoon training session was low resistance work. Despite earlier efforts everyone was on form and keen to put the hours in. We obliterated everything that crossed our path:
Scone in a flash!
Good work everyone!
Thanks to Shelly at LMNH who made the scones. They were really lovely.
On 15 Feb 2011, Lydia and Helen decided that after months of not sprinting it would be a fine idea to see what their legs would do in front of an audience. Essentially taking embarrassment and squeezing it hard in a bear hug.
Rollapaluza for those who don’t know is arguably* the best fun to be had on two wheels. Even though there is only one wheel on the bikes. Two riders race on fixed speed bikes secured to rollers over 500m. It is fast and fun, there’s music, shouting and loud noises. So much fun, in fact, I (Helen) get the giggles doing it.
There was great atmosphere as ever at the cafe, with the Rollapaluza drawing all sorts of cyclists out of their everyday habitats. From seasoned fixy riders, to lycra-clad roadies, to fearless downhillers (who I thought usually avoid pedalling at all costs, yet were surprisingly apt) all biking clans were admirably represented, and I heard lots of compliments being thrown around: “Hey great ride, that was fast man!” Kind of a cyclists’ Woodstock.
With thanks to http://peanuts.wikia.com/ wiki/Woodstock
We caught up with GB’s youngest pro rider, Jake. When I say caught up I do not mean that we chased on bikes, too easy! (I am working on my trash talk) Rather that we took the mickey out of him being in a team that is currently ranked lower than us nationally (it’s not going to last so we had to make the most of it), whilst he reminded us that he has singularly got more points than any of our riders. Fair enough.
The Look Mum No Hands staff were worryingly good, and made us wonder if they should be in the team kit and us in the café t-shirts.
We knew Jake would do well, despite having spent the past X days racing and training hard. However, I think everyone was take aback by the increasingly fast times that followed.
The evening culminated in the breathtakingly fast performances by a lithe young man who quietly arrived during the evening and a man who goes by the name Hill Billy. Possibly now Hill Billy the Magnificent. The young man winning by a whisker….a Hill Billy whisker?
In the women’s races Lydia showed she was a natural and got in the hotly contested final with Rollapaluza ace, Anna G from Mule Bar Girls. With them both hitting speeds of over 42mph, it was a truly exciting match and hats off to them both.
Thanks to Rollapaluza and LMNH for a fantastic evening. Thanks to Jake for letting me ride against you, I can now tick the ‘race against a pro’ box. (Of course he beat me, what did you expect?)
*Nik argues the best fun to be had on a bike is polo. Further investigations will be carried out.
We didn’t take any photos so here are some library pictures:
It's an old joke.
By Charlotte
Yesterday’s rain drove the girls to choose the turbo or group rides, but Harps and Sam braved the elements at Hog Hill in the last of the winter series.
Sam won the first of these races but since then has been plagued by the puncture fairy. Last week he picked up no less than three!
Harps is looking trim. We know he’s been doing a little running. He’s entered the Gran Corsa and must be training hard! Go Harps!
The conditions look grim. We’re proud of the boys!
(Many thanks to to wonderful LondonCycleSport for the photographs)
By Charlotte
Shabby TTs at the start of the season are my speciality. I think I need to get a duff race under my belt so that I can move on and improve. I suppose that if I’d been a minute or two off the winner’s time (as if – Sigma Sport’s uber-talented Wouter Sybrandy set a new course record today), I’d have peaked far too early and could look forward to limited gains in my performance.
The course was challenging: great descents, stiff climbs and a quick finish. They don’t call them “hardriders” for nothing.
Whatever I felt about my ride I did cross the line as first lady and there were moments where I felt like I am starting to get strong. I shall focus on the positives and learn some lessons. Onwards! Upwards!
By Lydia Boylan
Last Saturday (Feb 5) I set off to Calshot Velodrome with the guys and girls of VCL.
I had never ridden on an indoor track before and all I knew was that it was incredibly different to what I’m used to at Herne Hill. For those of you who don’t know, the track at Calshot is 150m in length, that’s 100m shorter than an Olympic track and 300m shorter than Herne Hill! So it’s very tight and not much of a straight. I had heard some pretty scary stories from the VCL guys, so I was particularly nervous.
When we arrived at Calshot, I was shown the track from the top of the banking. Damn…it was steep! It looked terrifying. The VCL kids were on the track at the time and all I kept telling myself was “If they can do, I can!”.
I got changed and sorted out a hire bike (brand new Dolans!) The last time I was on a track bike was probably last September at Herne Hill, so I was really nervous about getting on a fixed wheel bike again. Just keep pedalling….just keep pedalling!! At Herne Hill you can start by holding on to the edge of the track, I couldn’t do that here! I got one of the guys to help me get started. I decided to ride around the ‘in-field’ a little. I was on the bike 5 sec and…….SPLAT!! I fell right on my bum! My front wheel had slipped on the wet concrete! Not the first time I’ve fallen off pretty stupidly!!
I got up and back on the bike pretty quickly and thankfully Jason Cattermole decided to coach me on to the track. I went around a few times on the ‘côte d’azur’ (which was not slippy!!) and then finally up on the the black line and then up to the blue line. The first thing I noticed was how dizzy I was feeling. Corner after corner after corner! I was still pretty nervous and gripping on to the drops so tightly my hands were aching! But I soon remembered why I love track cycling and eased into it. The track didn’t feel so steep after a while!
So then we got down to some good hard training! See VCL’s write up here.
A big massive thank you to VCL for letting me join in on their training session. I’m really looking forward to the reopening of Herne Hill and getting back to track racing.
I spent most of 2009/10 in the saddle cruising at an average of 60k a day across Europe and the Middle East. A large part of this trip was in Turkey. It’s blooming massive and in January it turns out it’s pretty cold too. So there we were in -10c merrily pedalling through 6am fridgid fog wishing we had stayed in bed till noon eating well…nuts cos that’s all there was to eat really….yes, so there we were….when out of the haze that surrounds us we hear the heavy beat of fast approaching somethings. They sounded big. So we pedaled a bit faster. Then we heard some heavy breathing. Not like telephone weirdo heavy breathing or sexy heavy breathing….more like, ‘I want to eat you and I probably will,’ heavy breathing. So we pedaled faster still. A gnashing of teeth nearby and a yelp of, ‘Dear holy christ,’ from my companion and bounding forth from the mist I see a creature running side on toward my front wheel. It is bigger than my bike and sports a rather fetching (in a mad max sort of way) collar embossed with 6 inch rusted nails. ‘Hmm,’ I think, ‘crap.’ Swerving out of its way I realise I may need new underpants soon and we race as fast as we can. I reckon Look Mum should employ the talents one of these dogs in crit races…it could be like the rabbit greyhound thing but back to front…so we get away. This time.
We later find out that these dogs are sheep dogs, protecting the flocks in central Turkey near Tuz Golu from the wolves that live on the lake. The collars protect their jugular. The size and viciousness of these dogs increases proportionally as you near the lake. Furthermore, they start to attack in packs. Of 12. Oh dear. So after a few days of tears, attempted hitching (fail) and nights listening to them roam around our tents undoubtedly thinking, ‘Mmm, supper,’ we arrange a protection squad consisting of an 11-year old boy, his uncle, a motorbike and a big stick. This was great for 2km till the boy had to go home. Prompted by one of the dogs getting hold of a rear pannier bag, we made some modifications to our bikes (see top picture). Our last encounter was I think my fault. I might have said, ‘Hey! At least they aren’t rabid!’ and lo and behold, a truck passes us on an uphill going 40kmph chased by a giant death dog, spikes and all, foaming white at the mouth. The animal doesn’t respond to the boulders we throw to deter him which hit him square on the back. At the next town we gaffa taped our knives to our sticks and practised lancing.
