Go 'Til You Stop

The human body is an amazing thing. The capacity of the mind and body to work together just long enough to get through any given task will never cease to amaze me. The mind tells the body what it needs to do and how long for, gives it the strength to keep going, it even accounts for sleep (or sometimes lack of), factors in the temporary break in physical activity but keeps the body aware it hasn't finished just yet. The consequences of these types of events are never pretty though - often pushing yourself up to or beyond your physical limits.

Such an incident happened at the weekend. I was working on the second round of the British Mountain Bike Series up in Dalby Forest, Yorkshire. It was also a World Cup test event which added a slight bit of extra pressure to get everything spot on. I'd ridden the course first thing Thursday morning to get my bearings in the forest. To say it's the most technical cross-country course of the series is an understatement! Challenging and fun though and I was looking forward to actually racing on Sunday. Another practice ride on Friday on Olive the dekerf had me confident that I could clear all of the sections without a second thought.

The mistake I made though was not actually riding the course on my Ducati race bike that only turned up on Saturday morning. This was a grave error on my part and half way around the first lap on Sunday morning I hit the ground hard on a rooty drop-off section. After a long sit down I limped around to finish the lap, various body parts throbbing, and retreated to the back of my tent in pain. The ever insightful Martyn Salt approached and deduced very quickly from my abrupt single syllable answers to his concerned questions that I was far from alright but all I wanted was to be left alone to sob in peace and privacy.

A while later I reappeared in the arena with very few signs of the race ending dismount - just a graze or two on my legs. The large bruise on my hip, the graze on my backside, my throbbing right thigh and a pain in my ribs were invisible to the world. A limp gave it away slightly, as did the winces of pain every time I laughed or coughed. Still, there was work to be done for the rest of the event and I planned to just keep moving. Once I stopped, that would be it. And the anticipation of the morning after pain was motivation enough to get as much done on the day of the crash as possible.

Copious amounts of red wine helped me sleep on Sunday night. And here's the twist; Monday morning, although being the morning after, wasn't the end of the task. The plan had always been to stay on Monday and finish up. So I woke up a little stiffer than usual with some soreness in my neck, but actually rather surprised at the lack pain and ease of movement. Perhaps the crash hadn't been as bad as first imagined? Monday came and went and all the extra movement and walking hadn't made much of an impact on my aching bones. The task had finished, I had made it through, and made it home.

Tuesday is where it went wrong. Very, very wrong. My mind had finally told my body it could stop, relax and do what it needed to do to get back to normal. The excruciating pain I felt trying to get out of bed set the tone for the day - with every laugh, cough, sneeze and deep breath causing a sharp, almost unbearable pain in my rib. Even taking it easy didn't help as any core movement - getting off the sofa, bending down, standing up - causes a similar pain. I'm thinking cracked rib or muscle damage. Either way, there's no point going to hospital and there's nothing I can do except take it easy for a while. (And try not to laugh, cough, sneeze, breath too deeply or move.)

What a Week or Two

This time last week I was still in Offenburg, Germany, having spent the day watching the second round of the Nissan UCI World Cup cross-country mountain bike racing. There's hope that the UK will have a round next year in Dalby Forest so a BC contingent and a few others, including me, tagged along to have a look and pick up some tips.

As it was a last minute thing, I ended up driving the 500 miles through France on Friday and driving back on Monday. An interesting experience but not one I would want to repeat any time soon. The weekend and the racing was inspiring though - seeing the worlds elite, especially Monsieur Absalon, really is something to behold. And I somehow managed to end up writing a report and taking some photos for XC Racer. Published at last! And there's some more photos up on my flickr account. I think this my favourite one of eventual winner Julien Absalon. (Check out the quad muscles!!)

The rest of the week flew by with me playing at different jobs and trying to get through my long 'To Do' List. I haven't got very far yet.

And today I actually managed to ride Olive the Dekerf (and she was absolutely incredible once again) - I popped down to Swinley Forest for the Gorrick 100(km) enduro. It was the Gorrick 50 for me, just completing 3 laps of the fantastically fun 10 mile course. And incredibly I managed to win, although it wasn't a race, just a challenge. So let's say I was the first female to complete the 3 lap challenge - and received a rather nice trophy and Gore Bikewear cycling jersey for my efforts. At some point I'll write a race report.

Finished!!

Finally! After all these months and months and months of waiting for work to finally finish, it has! And I'm so happy and relieved and excited and cheerful and stress free and I'm really looking forward to my Summer now.

It's been an odd few days though, both before and after the leaving do (obviously, things never go smoothly around here). It started with a shopping trip on Thursday morning with Jodie to get new outfits for the leaving do Friday night. We both hate shopping, I really hate shopping in London, and to top it off it was raining. We were both doing surprisingly well until what will now and forever more be known at 'the Diesel incident'. I was trying on a pair of jeans in Diesel that turned out to be far too tight. Peeling the ridiculous tight pair of trousers back down my legs to my ankles I stumbled... out of the cubicle into the shop, banging my thigh on the handle. The young, male shop assistant looked stunned to say the least - and Jodie burst out laughing. I left in haste. I didn't really want a pair of jeans anyway.

Friday was the last day. I have to wonder how many P45s have been handed out amongst cheers, hugs, rounds of applause and popping champagne corks? Ours were. It was brilliant. Champagne. Lunch. Champagne. Lunch, again(?!) Champagne reception. Pub. Champagne. Champagne. More Champagne. (And I really have to say thanks to the guys at Green Media for a considerable amount of the champagne - there are some true gents out there ;-) I also have to say a really massive thank you to Nick Blackham, one of my managers, for being an absolutely top bloke over the last couple of months, and for some of the champagne on Friday. I couldn't have done it without him.

Not surprisingly, Saturday started with a hangover, and in fact ended with a hangover. (Note to self: don't drink that much champagne again in one day, it's just not worth it.)

Sunday should have been race day but I had a rather niggly shopping injury (see above) which meant my thigh went 'twang' on the first hill of the first practice lap at the first round of the Midlands XC series. So I spent the day soaking up the sun, with the odd bit of roving marshalling and course work.

Tomorrow I start my new life as an unemployed person, or should that be full time event organiser/consultant? Or maybe full time cyclists? Maybe I should call it a sabbatical? I'll have to have a think over the next couple of weeks whilst I'm finishing doing up my first house. It all feels really weird. I've been waiting for this for ages but now I can't get my head around it. Not that I'm going to have too much time to think about with the sheer amount of work I have to do over the next few weeks. I'm sure the time will fly by though. But, that time starts first thing tomorrow morning. Can't wait!!

11 Bloody Days

11 eventful days. One evening I'm in London trying not to get drunk at what was the official closing down of ITV transmission at the London Studios. It was also the day I got served my redundancy which means I'll officially finish on the 17th of April. Thank God! Finally! I could feel the weight physically lifting from my shoulders and the stress draining from my body. It was fantastic.

Early the following morning I was on a train to Carlisle for a few days pottering about on soon-to-be mountain bike courses in the north. Kielder 100 is coming along nicely. The new Wild Boar 24 course has huge potential and then it was over to Whinlatter to help out at the Whinlatter MTB Challenge. This is where things took an unexpected turn for the worse. I had an accident involving a large, 25kg+ speaker crashing down onto the back of my head. Thinking there must be a bump forming I removed my hat and put my hand to the back of my head. It came back red. That's when the others noticed the blood running down the back of my neck. I've never had a serious head injury before and I have to say there's nothing more unnerving than seeing blood dripping from your own head - it's just not natural and all your instincts seem to be telling you to panic because there's something very wrong. Still, the week of rest probably did me some good.

Then it was off to Sherwood for the first round of the British Mountain Bike Race Series working with Martyn Salt for the first time. (He plays squash ya know.) I raced in the Masters category. I was rubbish. Maybe riding my bike over the winter would have helped. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Full race report coming soon on the race page.

So, 11 days, hundreds of miles, 4 forests, 3 hotels, 2 mtb events and one very large scar on the back of my head. At least life isn't dull. And the Summer is shaping up rather nicely now I finally have my redundancy.

Bontrager Twentyfour12

So I popped down to Newnham Park near Plymouth this weekend for the third Bontrager Twentyfour 12. I've had a good run of success with this event; 1st place 24 hour solo woman in 2006; 1st place mixed team in 2007. For 2008 I would be going solo again but only 12 hours this time. ("Only" 12 hours...)

I quite like Newnham Park and raced there for the first time last year at the NPS. I'd never been before but had heard a lot about it as the World Cups were held there in the 90's. The course was absolutely blinding and the weather was excellent. All in all it was a really good weekend and seeing as I finished racing at midnight it gave me chance to catch up with a few people over a mandatory glass of vino (or two).

My full race report is on the Races page here. (You see, I've purposefully not told you where I finished so you have to go and look!)

Wild Boar 24

Finally managed to put a race report up for The North Face Wild Boar 24 that I rode last weekend. You can read all about it on the Races page. It wasn't my best attempt at a 24 hour solo - I've never, ever ridden with such heavy legs! The Tour of Ireland obviously took a lot more out of me than I realised. Also proven by the fact I've been off work sick for the last week. Time for a little rest and recovery before the summer kicks off properly...

I did pick this up while I was there though. Some Scottish guy had made them specially for the event and bought a few down in different styles and rotor sizes. This is a 203mm one with silver colour detail rather than black. The centre piece is stone. Nice huh!

End of an Era

Another weekend passed working at a Pro-Velo Support mountain bike event - Enduro 6. I've been working with Pat for 9 years now, well, 9 years this Mayhem anyway. It was a chance meeting at Sandwell one June when I turned up for a drink with Chipps at the hotel, the rest as they say is history.

Back then I worked with Ivo, Chipps, Paul McConnon and Ken Ward. A couple of years later a tall, broody Scotsman joined - Chris Duncan. We shared some interesting times as well: the corn field fire, the crazy knife wielding schizo and the SWAT helicopter are just a few of the things we dealt with at mountain bike races!

By the time the event moved to Eastnor only Chipps and Chris were left and we picked up a few more people - Quad Ben and Ickle Paul Davis. This was the infamous Pro-Velo Trail Crew and we were working at more events throughout the year.

There's an odd relationship formed in this kind of family. We only saw each other for one week and two weekends a year and not at all over winter, but the time spent together is intense, especially for the 36 hours over a 24 hour race! After a few years, we'd still only met 6 times, but every time we got together we all instantly clicked and it was as if we'd never been away; Even more unbelievable if you know what a motley crew we are.

Sadly, this weekend was Chris Duncan's last as a member of the Trail Crew. He's still going to be at the events but doing his normal job for Endura who are event sponsors this year, so it won't be quite the same.

I can safely say we're all going to miss working with him. He's got a wit as dry as the sahara and can take the mickey with the best of them - crucial attributes when it's 6am, you're covered in mud, soaked to the bone, it's been raining for 4 hours with no sign of it letting up and you know there's no chance of getting out of this damn field for another 12 hours!

So apart from the odd appearance from Chipps at Mountain Mayhem, there's just me left from the old Sandwell crew. I wonder how much longer I'll be around?

Race Day

Been an interesting but busy few days - last couple of days at work were actually quite a good laugh. Mainly due to my/our own stupidity. It's not often I say that, it's not often I talk about work either, but every now and again it is good fun. Still, yesterday was a long day and I was looking forward to getting out on my bike today. Though in saying that, I almost didn't get out of bed this morning. I'm glad I did though.

You can read all about my racing antics on my new Race page. It's going to get pretty busy over the coming weeks!

Dusk 'til freezing Dawn

Another excellent course to play on at Thetford with mile upon mile of swooping, twisting singletrack making up the epic 12 mile lap. This was going to be fun. I love riding at Thetford! Ickle Paul started off as usual, I'm surprised nobody slipped and twisted an ankle on the testosterone covered start line seeing as he'd grabbed centre stage along with Ben Dale and Paul Gibbons. Boys will be boys eh?

It was quite a spectacle as the hundreds of lights streamed past underneath the start banner, only to reappear a couple of minutes later a little more spread out and even more impressive.

Fifty minutes later and I was taking my final swig of Sloe Gin Liquer from my Surly hipflask, ready for the handover. I.P didn't look very happy when he came in, oh dear. Still, my first lap was SO much fun. Singlespeeds rule at Thetford and my Surly 1x1 was handling like a dream in the tight trees. During one particularly tight tree lined section Jo Burt and another couple of singlespeeders came up behind me and were whooping, hollering and generally making high pitched squeally sounds. The whole thing reminded me of that scene in Star Wars (oh come on, you know the one with the hover bikes through the giant trees) and I flew through the section at light speed. How much fun!

It was now getting a bit colder but I knew I was still going to sweat a lot in the trees so donned my trusty Endura arm and knee warmers to keep the chill off. They performed brilliantly but sadly it was too late for my knee which I've been having trouble with since soloing at Sleepless in the Saddle. Swiss Schali crept up behind me about half way round - his lights had failed so he was sitting behind me as we ducked and dived through the singletrack. On the fire road I'd spin like mad to keep up with him and then he'd let me go first again. "Hope I didn't hold you up too much?" I asked at the end of the lap. "No no" he replied, "I've been doing 52's so it was nice to have a steady late 50's to recover a bit." Hellfire! I was giving it everything I had to get those late 50's! Back in the handover, I.P didn't look very happy.

My third lap and I decided to give it everything I had again as I was pretty sure it was going to be my last. Traffic was a bit worse on this lap and the pain in my knee was increasing. It was my slowest lap but I was still under the hour. At the handover, I.P didn't look very happy. I told him the good/bad news that I didn't want to carry on and risk further damamge. I.P looked happy and went out for another lap. Turns out he hadn't been feeling very well either and things hadn't fallen into place. So, at 2.30am, after a total of 7 laps, lying in 4th place, we happily retired to the warmth of the Climb On Bikes camp - to drink, eat, sleep and hide under our duvets for the rest of the race. And from the pale, freezing faces we kept seeing diving in and out throughout the night, we'd made a good decision.

Hours later, the freezing fog lifted and it turned into a pleasant morning. A 1st, 3rd and 5th for our boys and girls in various categories and some rather lovely trophies to reward the massive effort everyone had put in to an extremely tough endurance race. Well done everybody! Full team write-up here.

Glad that's all over!

Final round of the BMBS at Coed-y-Brenin and the race season is (almost) over, hurray! And what an eventful weekend it was. Four unknown sport riders turned up on the start line and soon disappeared up the hill. Knowing my training hadn't been ideal and my series standing unchangeable I just wanted to finish. Minutes later I came across Fran, a fellow Climb On bikes rider, in need of an inner tube adaptor. I stopped to see if I could help but to no avail and was now dead last.

I caught up and passed the next two sport riders only to come across a guy who had rammed his face into the stoney singletrack! Again, I stopped to help. His position of 'face planted firmly into rocks spilling blood, bike on top of him, still clipped in' didn't look very comfortably and his weak flailing and groaning told me I could helpfully remove his bike from his feet without causing further injury. After establishing he couldn't remember his name, Ruth and Rachel caught me up and I told them to ride on to the next marshall. The junior Team Chance rider who'd also stopped then said she'd punctured so I may as well continue with my race. I did so. Only to find Ruth a little further down the singeltrack with a puncture. This scenario became very common as I completed the lap.

The next singletrack and more unhelpful bodies had decided to throw themselves in my path. One more good samaritan session helping to straighten handlebars and a brake lever and I set off once more! Any chance of podium had now gone so I decided just to enjoy myself and was whooping and jumping down the rocks once more, casually rolling down the 4x track with a view to putting all my effort into the second lap, just for fun really.

With all the breaks I'd had on the first lap, the second lap flew by and was most enjoyable, finishing 5th only a minute or so back from 4th. Being my worst position of the year, this round was dropped from the overall series and I happily collected my Series 2nd trophy. Woohoo! Not bad for a year where every spare minute has been spent with a paint brush in my hand, rather than riding a bike.

The Long Way Home...

Well, my epic two week trip around Scotland, and believe me, it has been around Scotland more than once, has finally come to an end. The Raasay Rumble on the Isle of Raasay, just off Skye was a bit of a wash out. The rain started on Friday evening, and I can't remember it stopping! It went from drizzle to torrential to biblical and back again continuously throughout the weekend - throw in a howling gale, some nippy temperatures and you've got yourself one fairly miserable setting. Shame, because there's some amazing trails on that island. There'll be a full story once I get home.

Right, best hit the road, I'm in unknown territory in my road atlas (i.e. a brand new unused page), and it's a hell of a long way home...