Share your sportive stories!

Robspedding

We're putting together a series of articles in Cycling Plus to help riders of all standards achieve their best possible sportive performance this summer.

We're interested in knowing a few things from people who'd be willing to have their words of wisdom and their best mugshot in the mag...

1. Which sportives have you enjoyed most over the the past couple of years and why?
Could be the route, the best organisation, because it was your best performance, you overcame atrocious conditions...

2. What do you wish you'd known before you took part in your first sportive?
Equipment, pacing, food and drink... The tricks of the trade that you've learned from bitter experience.

Keep 'em short and sweet - two or three sentences a go and email them to cyclingplus@futurenet.co.uk

Thanks

CPlus

Captain Fagor

Robspedding wrote:

Keep 'em short and sweet - two or three sentences a go and email them to cyclingplus@futurenet.co.uk

Two or three sentences? Such as:

I rode the 2007 Spud Riley, which started from the Woodford Community Centre near Manchester. Anyway, to cut a long, rambling story about cycling short, I rode the route in a little under seven hours and then went home. The end.

HarryB

Captain, that's a good point.

Here's mine.

I did the White Rose Classic this year. It was a scorching hot day. I got cramp at the 50-mile point and had to struggle the 66 miles to the finish in absolute agony. I was crying in pain at times and couldn't get my feet clipped into the pedals because of cramp. At times I was lying by the side of the road screaming in pain. Somehow I got to the finish in just over ten hours. I learnt an awful lot. The following day I drank twleve pints of liquid and only went to the toilet twice. dehydration is a bugger and it was a schoolboy error I should never have made and I'm still kicking myself about it. The next ride I did was the Northern Rock Cyclone which I managed to rattle off in a very fast time. Preparation (and the heat) was the big difference between the two. I could write an interesting article about it as I have 30 years experience in journalism (including writing for a national newspaper) and have competed in a number of sports (some at international level) for many, many years. But I won't bother because I couldn't possibly cram it into a few sentences. A few years ago a mate of mine had the same problem. He wrote a book called War and Peace. Far too long in my opinion. Too many sentences and the cheeky bugger used paragraphs and chapters.

PS Sorry that there are so many sentences and only one paragraph. I feel bad about it but it's the best I could do.

HarryB

This one went down well then?

campagchris

I think the idea of having your mug shot in the mag put a few people off

John C.

Couldn't quite manage the 2-3 sentences bit
Ryedale Rumble
The day started with a bowl of porridge at St Martins Prep. School at Gilling on what was to be the hottest day of the year so far. The rides were 50, 85 and 113 miles , I was doing the later with nearly 4000m of climb around the North York Moors, the west side of which is my usual stomping ground. The plan had been to take it easy in the early stages but with a blistering mid day forecast I decided to get a move on, and being in own back yard so to speak I knew the roads well , My speeds were too high and I knew it but found it very hard to actually slow down . We headed off past Ampleforth, Wass and Kilburn, then over to Bolby ( Mr Boltby, respect or push) for the first hill of the day, I new it was going to be a hard day as I was down to bottom gear (usually I have 2 to spare) and others were pushing, any way after posing for the photographer I sped off down to the ford at Caydale then up again to Old Byland and then a fast bumpy decent down to and around Rievaux Abby Another little hill and then down to the first feed stop in Helmsley. A quick look at the average speed showed 17mph , way too fast, I would pay for it later. The food stop was well stocked with bananas, plain water or ready diluted sports drink and an amazing array of cakes, flapjacks and and shortbread .
Bransdale saw the temperature rising and a slight headwind, so I tucked in behind two lads, Mark and Marius who I ended up riding with for quite a bit of the rest of the ride. They steadied me up a bit and we were quickly getting round to Farndale and near to mid day. I was making myself drink more than usual as salt was forming in sheets on my arms and legs, I was also relying on the carbohydrate in the drinks bottles to fuel me. Farndale we rode at a gentle pace making sure the Heart Rate stayed as low as possible as I knew Blakey Bank was next, not as steep as Boltby but a long 20% drag in the full glare of the mid day sun. My two new buddies had left me and I struggled into the headwind on the road to Castleton untill two more lads past me and I jumped in with them, It's amazing how this helps, my HR dropped by 20 and speed went up by 3mph, we then crested the ridge and it was top gear 35mph blast down to Castleton swapping the lead several times round to Leaholme and the second drinks/feed stop.
I was exhausted and thought solid food a bad idea even though there was a choice of sandwiches, so I just refueled my drinks bottles with SIS and carried on, the next 10 miles from 70 -80 miles were hell on earth, I was past and past again, it was just 1 hill after another all in the baking heat on top of the moors with no shade and no breeze to cool down, bottom gear was becoming the norm and I knew the big hill was still 20 miles away. On the whole I like hills, big steep hills, but these were long 10-15% hills, I don't like these as they take a lot out of me especially with the sun baking down . At about 80 miles one of the gel sachets kicked in and I started reeling in riders who'd past me earlier and finally Mark and Marius were caught and I was back in the group taking turn at the head flying round the quiet little lanes on the way to Rosedale Chimney. At about this time I realised that Gold was actually a realistic possibility and another gel was consumed, I rode the Chimney although I don't quite know how and then wound the speed up down to Hutton le Hole, it was during this bit that when I put too much effort in , my thighs started to cramp up, a quick stop at the feed station and I was off again trying to push hard but every time I tried, I started cramping up, Mark and Marius tried to leed me, but I just couldn't hold there wheels, I was being dropped at the smallest of hills, then came Nunnington and it was bottom gear, the same as Rosedale and Boltby but I simply couldn't push anything higher and the clock ticked on, then down to Hovingham and I was down in bottom gear again as I past the 5 k to go sign, The finish came and so was I , I'd given my all but I'll have to do better for Gold, my time was 7:52, Silver, 7 minutes outside the time for Gold .
What a day though, excellently organised, stunning scenery and lots of near traffic free roads.
Back next year ?
I believe the Pope is Catholic .

Airmiles

Maratona dles Dolomites 2007

I’m told you should always tailor your training to your main event. I’d started gently, with a solo start at the Forest of Dean Classic, built up to queuing across a Rugby pitch at the Polka Dot Challenge, and finally done the whole chip-timing and block start thing at the Highclere Castle sportive.

Wrong! Nothing in the UK can prepare you for standing at the back of a throng of 8,500 riders in an Italian mountain village at 6:30am, 40 minutes’ shuffling away from the start line. Nothing in our car-centric, polluted island prepares you for riding through jaw-dropping scenery with thousands of other cyclists, cheered on by clapping spectators whilst a TV helicopter hovers overhead.

So how did I get here? At 40, with 4 years off the bike due to a bad ankle injury, I was unfit, despondent, and (frankly) fat. I needed motivation. I needed a challenge. I needed to justify the $$$s I’d spent on a hunk of Tennessee’s finest Ti sculpture….

In November 06, I entered the lottery for the 2007 Maratona dles Dolomites, a closed-roads climb-fest through Europe’s (and possibly the world’s) most stunning mountain scenery. To my horror, I won a place. I bought a powermeter and became a slave to the Turbo.

The Dolomites are dramatic limestone mountains set in picture-postcard valleys on the Italian/Austrian border, which I fell in love with ten years ago when I went there as a climber. The Maratona takes place every year in late June/early July. 17,000 people enter the draw every year for the 9,000 places on offer. It’s so popular they have a non-timed closed roads festival two weeks later to accommodate the unlucky!!

There are three distances, based on a figure-of-eight loop around the Sella massif, finishing in Corvara. Apart from 12km of faux plat, it’s all either granny-gear or the Cresta run re-cast in tarmac. All routes take in the passes of Campolongo (1875m), Pordoi (2239m), Sella, (2244m), and Gardena (2121m). The shortest route then finishes after just 55km but with 1780m of climbing. The next two routes re-cross Campolongo, before the middle route climbs Passo Falzarego/Valparola (2200m) and returns to Corvara for a total of 106km and 3090m of climbing. The long route adds the fearsome Passo Giau (2236m, 9.9km at 9.3%) for a slight increase to 138km but a faintly ridiculous 4190m of total climbing!

My training went well. I got “gold” in only my second sportive. I discovered I could drop 30-somethings with shaved legs. I set myself a target of 6 hours for the middle route. Then I utterly buried myself in the 102-mile Polka Dot Challenge, and found myself with tonsillitis and on antibiotics with 10 days to go. Even the parrot felt sorry for me.

I arrived in Italy still on antibiotics, struggling to turn 34 * 23. On the flat. I slept. I rode Campolongo at a steady tempo, and slept some more. I felt better. I rode Passo Pordoi at full effort in 44 minutes. I felt good.

Which brings us back to 6:30am on Sunday 1st July, with number 8391 tied to my bars. On my right, a gentleman with a bike from c1982 and clothing of similar vintage. To my left, a German girl with a pair of Mavic R-Sys wheels.

I started gently, resolved to just ride tempo and not push my body too far. As it turns out, with 8,000 people on the road ahead, tempo was the most anyone could have done! After Pordoi things started to thin out a little, and I began twiddling in 34 x 27 past hundreds of people grinding away in 39 x 25, whilst to my left, all the people on triples repaid the compliment. I reached the top of Passo Gardena just inside my schedule of 3 hours.

Somewhere on the second ascent of Passo Campolongo it began to dawn on me that my usual calculations of flapjack-per-hour may not have been enough…. Cue five minutes at the roadside emptying my pockets into my mouth. On reflection, those minutes would have been better spent partaking of the sandwiches at the feed stops…..

15 glorious minutes slipstreaming a group of Backstedt-sized Germans deposited me at the bottom of Passo Falzarego. So, just 786m left to climb, then. With a shout of “Ënjoy the Giau, boys!” I turned left.

More granny-gear tempo, more people to pass. By now it was hot enough to seek out the shade of the roadside trees – and wish I’d gone without the knee warmers. I kept going at a hard-but-comfortable pace, any thoughts of TTing the last 20 minutes long abandoned. To my surprise, I grovelled over the top just 51 minutes later. 925m/hour? Where did that come from??

Of course, this put me in amongst the fast boys from the long course, joining Falzarego from the Cortina side. Think you’re a good descender? No. You’re. Not. 45mph in-between hairpins, and I was going backwards.

But I wasn’t racing them. I was racing the clock.

I’d been on the road for 5 hours 10. I knew it was 40 minutes, at my pace, from the top of Falzarego to the finish. I was going to do it!!!

The gut-wrenching disappointment of being struck ill 12 days before was gone. The depression of my feeble efforts when I first arrived in Italy, banished. Every single soggy wintry lap of Richmond Park, every sweaty panting minute of every agonising lactate-threshold interval had been worth it. I don’t know what the locals thought of an Englishman in Azzuri lycra shrieking and bawling his way through their villages, way over the speed limit. I didn’t care!!!

I hit the valley bottom and churned my way in slow-motion over the finish line, stopping the clock in 5h51:09. I couldn’t actually walk, but that didn’t seem important at the time.

I’m going back next year. Going under 6 hours gets me a slot 2,500 further forward in the start pen. With that, no illness, and a bit more training, 4 hours 45 should be do-able. That could get me Top 50, and First Brit, in the 43-48 category.

If you want to join me, or beat me, go to www.maratona.it and look for entry forms in October/November.

Miles Barker

salsarider79

salsarider79

I'll never forget the first time I took part in the Norwich 100mile ride for the British Heart Foundation. I said to people that as I can do 50miles in 3hours, I'm aiming for 6hours or less. Didn't have one person think I could do it. Motivation enough. Please bear in mind, the longest I had ridden to that point was um,...50miles. I thought that as 50miles could be done easily enough, I'd be fine, didn't need to worry.
Having missed breakfast, I rode to the meeting point, and off we all went. At the start 5 riders got into a train and vanished into the distance, so I joined about 40 riders following at good speed. By the time we got to the 50mile mark, I was starting to flag. But I had done the first 50miles in 2hours 30minutes. I could take it easier now.
In the first 50, I'd been averaging 19/20mph. Now my speed dropped to 13mph, on the flat. Then 11mph. Then the group I had dropped earlier, went past me like a train. So I joined for about 10-15miles. Then stopped dead. I'd never known about 'hitting the wall' or what it meant. I had no water or food at all. I sat down for about 15minutes, phoned my girlfriend for some sympathy, which was a great help.
Then I rode carefully about 300yards down the road to a petrol station. 2ltrs of coke and 3 king sized mars bars later, I launched down the road like a bat out of hell! Holding about 23mph, I shot past so many people.
I was expecting a proper finish line, so I lined myself behind someone I knew I could outsprint, then rounded a corner and found no such finish line existed. In truth I didn't care as I rolled over the line in 5hours 44minutes.
I decided I would do it in 5 hours next time....

salsarider79

The Norwich 100 this year was all about time. I can do less than 6hours. So I can do less than 5hours.
Early breakfast of porridge with saultanas and banana's. Then 2 bottles of water. Pack waterproof cape, 4 energy bars, 2 gels and 2 banana's into jersey. Knee and arm warmers on, to keep warm. A gentle but longish ride around to get to the start line. Meet up with serious, hard riding friends. All out on our S-Works/R3 SL's/Etc. And what a lovely ride. Gentle swooping roads, lots of silly jokes, crusing at 19mph. Did the first 50 miles in just over 2hours 30 minutes.
Second 50 a few people who came with us started to drop a little bit, but now we were crusing around 25mph, so not really suprising. In a group you can ride much faster than you think. The group overtook a slower rider and a car (these aren't closed roads) didn't. Instead the dumbass sat behind the slow rider for ages. She didn't leave me any room to get through either. Eventually I forced my way past, gave the driver a salute and went off after my friends. Gels, bars and lots of water were consumed as I held 32mph. I joined with a TT'er towards the end, catching up with friends just as we were coming into norwich. I rolled over the line 5hours 3 minutes and 17seconds.
5hours next year I think, with more training.
p.s. Went to work next day, then a hard 30mile MTB ride. Day after, went to work again. Came home, crawled upstairs. Slept for about 18hours....How do these pro riders do it?

Mark Alexander

I'm not officially submitting as the picture thing.
I don't want people to get depressed as I'm Soooo good looking

Mark Alexander

Marmotte 08.... The short version.

I started the preparation for this 108 mile ride that covered over four mountain passes and 16000ft of climbing nine months before the event itself. Before taking this on, I had not been to, never mind ridden in, the Alps. Although I knew that it was a huge undertaking, nothing could have prepared me for what I was going to do. My training took over six months and over 3000miles on the bike mainly in the hills of South Wales.

The start was a steady upwards ride out 12 km through the town of Allemond then on turning up the first mountain it hit me like a sledgehammer. Thousands of cyclists were crammed onto a mountain pass with over 300ft of a drop. The 1st mountain at 16km lasted for 2 hrs 15 minutes ending at 2000m at 37km and was a true baptism of fire. It was excruciating and couldn’t get any tougher… or so I thought. Next, after a long twisting and steep descent riders thinned out and was a tough ride steadily rising through the valley floor to the 2nd mountain of the day, Col du Telegraphe, at ‘only’ 11 miles, but an hour and a half of agony, it was even steeper made doubly difficult by the extreme heat. Cyclists were starting to flounder at this point. The climbing and heat were taking their toll and I wasn’t even half way. There was little rest bite on the 5km downhill before the build up to the infamous Col Du Galibier. This is an 18km climb over 1100m to a point of 2650m. Cyclists were strewn at the sides of the road exhausted on mobiles some even crying. With 6km to go the snow began and even through the sun the altitude brought a chill the face and arms. It was very slow going and getting tougher by the minute.

At the top I had been in the saddle for 8hrs and 50 minutes. This was the final chance to feed then it was back on the bike heading down the 40km of fast 50mph riding tight hairpins, treacherous 300m rocky drops, dodging ambulances and flying through dark mountain tunnels in groups. When I finally got to the base of the final climb of the day Alpe D’ Huez, I still had something left. This was mainly due to Adrenaline which I was about to discover to my horror as, on the 10% 3k beginning of this most famous climb was all I had. It was my turn to implode.

With eight miles and 19 hairpins to go, my body had enough. I had cramp in my legs, my stomach was empty and so was the tank. I had hit the wall. It was at this point that all that endurance training and mental strength came into play. The only thing that kept me going, was a refusal to fail or worse, walk! With only 500m to go, I got off the bike and was violently ill. A policeman and spectator gave me water and a push start. I made it round the corner onto the final drag through the village egged on by all the diners at the café’s and bars to finish in thirteen and a half hours.

I have never done anything so physically and mentally exhausting and I can’t wait for next year!!

itisaboutthebike

Mmmm - nothing quite like the Marmotte is there ? Long , hard, usually hot - whats not to like ? (apart from the 5000m of climbing if you don't like climbing ?)

This year,2008, was going to be different...................two miserable failures in the last 2 years was beininng to grate on me.

In 2005 I got delayed by the crash on the summit of the Glandon, was ill on the Galibier with stomach cramps, and so got to the bottom of the Alpe way past 6pm where they#d stopped riders going up. Also getting knocked off my bike at the end of March didn't exactly help my preparations either as I had nearly 6 weeks off the bike...........

2006 wasn't much better. I got ill the day before and was up most of the night taking paracetamols to reduce my fever. I really didn't think I was going to be able to ride come the morning. I'd only had a few hurs sleep and felt pretty bad, but decided that as I'd come all this way I may as well give it a go. Plus the very bad weather of the last few days had cleared and it was looking to be a good day. And you never know I might have perked up. But how I made it to the bottom of the Alpe I'm not sure, , but half way up I really was a gonner...................Half an hour on the floor and then it was all i could do to freewheel down the Bourg.

For 2008 I'd invested in a suplerlight bike - my dream bike - a Litespeed Ghisallo, and made the reluctant cross-over to 10 speed. My training had gone much better than the previous 2 years (mainly becuase I took Thur's off from work in March/Apr/May to do long hard rides), and with Tue night chaingang sessions I was peaking nicely.

For the previous 2 years I've always done the Vaujany ride, which preceeds the Marmotte by a week (its on the previous Sunday). In 2005 I did the 'master' (110k) route, and not knowing what it enatiled held back too much. In 2006 I did the full 174k route...er which was a mistake. I took to much out of me before the Marmotte itself. Whether this conributed to my getting ill on the Thur/Fri I'm not sure.

But for 2008 I reverted back to doing the easier 110k route. I was still sipping my coffee and downing my criossant when I could the bunch disappearing down the valley ! Hey wait for me ! A frantic 15 minute chase ensued just to get to the back of the tail end group ! It spurred my on to go stright to the front. I then managed to leapfrog several groups and was starting to feel good. I passed quite a few riders on the first climb (Grand Alpe Sur) and was still feeling good on the Ornon and fisnished strongly on the steep Vaujany clibm to claim gold for my 40-49 age group (but just finishing outside 5 hours). Bring on the Marmotte !

Another good day on the Sat for the Marmotte saw me lining up in the second (1000-2000) pen as I'd got my entry in early. I felt in better condition than at any time in the last 15 years since I stopped racing in 1991.

Onto the Glandon and setteling into a nice rythm I started to notice a strange clicking noise coming from the chain, like the gears were out of alignment. I had a few goes at altering the head tube gear adjuster, but still it didn't seem right. Then BANG ! My chain snapped and wrapped around the rear spockets. I nearly feteched several riders off getting from the RHS of the road over the grass verge on the left.

I;d packed a missing link for such an emergency, but with my adrenaline pumping I dropped the damn thing in the grass (which was made worse 'cos it had just been cut). I frantically scabbled around to find it in the grass..............for over half an hour ! All the while turning round at varuous points asking the thousands of riders streaming by if they had a spare missing link or chain extactor................

About 45 went by when who should appear ? But Mark Plowright (of Beeston RC) of course ! This man is famed for being a Good Samaritan. What a star ! He had a link extractor and we managed to get the chain back together ( I n=know you;re not meant to join a 10 sp chain like this but this is all we could ) and hoep it would last. I was now minus 3 links which made getting onto the larger sprockets in the big ring a strecth for the mech. But at least I was going again thanks to Mark.

I crested the Glandon at 10pm - nearly an hour behind schedule, but I thought I could still make it in under 10 hours. How wrong I was.................I was goinf great guns on the Telegraph, managing to pass lots of riders. Needed to stop to replenish water at the top.
I leant my bike in an area away from the other bikes so it would't get damaged. When I got back to someone had leant thier bike against mine. Unbeknown to me, when I got back on the bike the rear gear somehow ended up in the large sprocket and big ring - and becuase the chain was now too short I couldn't budge it. I couldn't even remove the rear wheel............it was completely jammed. Another half an hour ticked by trying to wrestle with the bike to no avail.

I reluctantly called it a day at the top of the Telegraph and waited (over two hours!) for the broom wagon to pick me up. Well at least the coffee was nice. And i got well aquainted with the Mrytell pie (just as i had done 10 years earlier when I did the 1998 Etape - which was based on a similar route to the Marmotte - execpt starting at Grenoble and finishing on Duex Alp).

And time to contemplate next years unfinished business...................and whether to go back to nine speed.....................

Blonde

We cycled the Marmotte route (only over two days - short second day) over a long weekend in June last year: Stunning!
I did the Giro di Lombardia sportive in October this year. RR below:

Ride of the Falling Leaves

Lining up in Como, in the pretty cobbled square on the shores of the lake on October 19th 2008, the party atmosphere had already begun with cheesy '80s music blaring from loudspeakers nearby, and such classics as ‘Girls just wanna have fun’; Cyndi Lauper, and ‘Relax’; Frankie goes to Hollywood. Many were shivering in the slightly cool morning air, but I knew from the forecast that it would be a warm day later on. I was therefore in short sleeves and shorts whilst most of the Italians were wrapped up in knee warmers, long sleeves and gilets or were busy rubbing warming embrocation into their legs, with wives, girlfriends or children at the barriers, ready to be handed winter jackets and spare clothing in the final moments before the event began! The mood of excitement and joviality became increasingly serious as the hour of 9:00 approached. Stephen Roche appeared at the start line about two bike lengths from where I was standing, to lead the ride out. The 100 or so women in the event had been placed nearer to the start line than most of the rest of 2000 strong field. Of course it made little difference to me, because as soon as the horn sounded and the tape dropped there was an almighty rush forward and I felt as though nearly everyone else was hurtling straight past, although a quick glance down at my computer confirmed that I was travelling at speeds of between 35 and 50 kph! In fact I covered 38km in the first hour!

My partner Mark caught up with me about 10km into the ride and we cycled together in the throng, along the road skirting the lake. The scenery was stunning, with panoramic views across the still waters of the lake and autumnal colours in the trees. As we began to climb the fabled Madonna del Ghisallo, the pace inevitably slowed, although there was still plenty of space on the road to pass other riders. I gradually wound my way up the 10km long climb, (height: 754 m, maximum gradient: 14%), trying to keep a good cadence, whilst attracting some appreciative shouts of “Forza!” and “Bella, bella!” from those I passed and from those who passed me. I was wearing my favourite new colour coordinated summer kit, so perhaps it was my jersey they were admiring! As I reached the summit, I heard the chapel bells peal in time-honoured tradition. The bells are rung both during the sportive event and also during the professional race the day before as the race streams past the chapel; a monument to fallen cyclists, an eternal flame burning for those who have died out on the road and with the famous statues of Gino Bartali and Fausto Coppi outside its gates.

A few metres into the descent, I pulled into the feed stop area and surveyed the vast array of fresh and dried fruits, freshly baked homemade pizza slices, cakes, pre-packed jam tarts and gels as well as various soft drinks. I grabbed a bottle of mineral water for my bidon and downed a plastic beaker of Coke. I was asked if I’d like to add some salts to my bottle, but wasn’t that keen to try a worryingly bright pink coloured drink at this stage, so, as things were going pretty well already, I stuck to water. I’d already used some Nuun electrolyte tablets that morning in any case. The Silver Cross gels at the feed station were much less sweet than any I’d tried before and actually quite pleasant, so I made a mental note to check whether they are available in the UK (they aren’t!). I stuffed a few dried apricots and bits of papaya down, as well a couple of fresh orange segments and two half bananas, then crammed a jam tart into my pocket (for later) and rode on.

The road was fairly flat after the descent of the Ghisallo. The other two climbs were shorter than the first, but hotter, as we were nearing the middle part of the day by that time. The last climb (Civiglio) was not far from the finish and because we were bowling along in big rings and top gears between climbs, I knew that anything which required effort and changing down to get over was really going to hurt me next day, but the adrenaline carried us through. On the final descent, there was a great commotion behind us, and several team cars from the previous day’s race came screeching round the hairpins. Terrified, we slowed to let them pass. One was a Francais des Jeux car, another, the Mavic wheels neutral service vehicle, and following them, two official Giro di Lombardia cars; all the drivers enjoying a replay of yesterday’s race action!

In one small village we were greeted by children and youngsters shrieking, cheering and waving anything that came to hand (flags, sweaters, teddy bears) as we shot through! As we approached Como town centre, we raced though red lights, used both side of the dual carriageway and really enjoyed that big ring feeling on totally traffic free roads and with armed police watching our progress! Galloping along in a small group we reached the final few metres. The ‘80s music was playing again as we came into the straight, flanked on each side with barriers and with spectators cheering and waving. We were looking at each other, laughing about the immensely silly, yet exhilarating experience of it all, as the final timer bleeped and we crossed the finish line under the banner, where the Lampre team’s Damiano Cunego had lifted his arms in triumph the previous day - We’d done it!

At the finish area, the large screen, still in place after the race the previous day, showed riders crossing the line, along with their finishing times. There was a commentary going on as well, although what anyone found to say, after what, judging by the official finishing times, must have been around 50 minutes of riders crossing the line before us, I’ll never know! As our hotel was literally two minutes ride away, I thought it would be wiser to endure the salty, damp kit and eat at the pasta party first, rather than going to the hotel to shower then trying to fight our way back into it once a queue had built up. We went straight to a choice of gnocchi or lasagne, apple tart, chocolate tart or fruit. After we’d showered and changed at our hotel, we did head back out to the finish area to watch others coming in and to browse the Mavic wheels and Cervelo stalls and it seemed we’d been right to get in there and scoff our pasta immediately after the ride, as by that time the queue was trailing back out of the finishers area.

Overall I’d say the event was very well organised, with a truly lovely route and spectacular scenery as well as a good party atmosphere from participants and spectators alike. If you're thinking of having a go yourself, it's an event which is easy to get to. We flew Manchester-Milan, took the train from the airport to Como, then a five minute taxi ride with our bikes to the Hotel Plinius in Como central. The Giro di Lomabardia wasn't as frantic as the Nove Colli, in Pantani's homeland of the Emilia Romagna region, which I took part in earlier in the year. Perhaps this was because the field size was only about 2000, as opposed to nearly 10,000 on the Nove Colli event. This meant that there was little slow down on the climbs, with no bottle necks to cause hold ups and that led to a much higher average speed. I finished the 100km route in 3:58:10, including one feed stop, was 13th in my category (there were 32 in my category on the medio route and two women’s categories). I also finished 22nd out of 70 women on the medio route and was the first British woman to cross the finish line! I’d never before cycled that fast for such as sustained time period and I must admit that I really enjoyed it, although I did pay the price for it, being as stiff as a board the next day!

johnbirkby46213

And for AudaxUK members, you can read another fabby tale of derring do by Blonde in the latest magazine....and very good it is too. My all that white italian kit.. 8) .I couldn't get over the baby pink for fellas tho'... what are these italian fellas thinking about!?!

is this a move into journalism I see before me Leo? :shock:

JB

Blonde

Aw, cheers John. :oops:

Yes there was a lot of pink kit or white kit, complete with matching over-socks... just great as long as it doesn't rain and there's no wet tar or fresh cow sh1te on the roads!

kosta

This year i done the etape, Pau-Hautacam, in a decent 7hrs 11 min . many others done it too . But there weren't many who cycled from Britain, Warwickshire , to Pau and back unsupported and raced the etape on the same bike

It took me 15 days - 6 days each way , the day of the race and two days off either side of the etape . On my own and absolutely unsupported .

i am curious to know if anybody done something similar for the etape and also if next year there are others willing to try it .

capilinconnemara

Kosta
That is some spin :shock: .Knw 1 of the lads on TOI 08 had cycled across england and did the 4 days and cycled back and we thought he was MAD Have you a diary/blog anywhere(or is the book in production)

berliner

I've done loads of sportives but this summer I took the bike, tent, full kit etc into the mountains. Did some big big climbs but finally got a chance to stop and look. The climbing is lot harder with the kit but I would highly recommend not training one year for a sportive and just just do the climbs unsupported au naturel. Manifique[ /size]