Kellogg’s Tour of Ireland – Final Stage Kilkenny to Dublin

130miles, 10000ft of ascent! 9h14 ride time
Avg speed 14mph; Max speed 44mph
Avg heart rate 133bpm; Max heart rate 167bpm
Calories burned 6600

Monday and the final day started with a short walk back to the college in the morning sun. It was promising to be a lovely day. My legs were slightly sore this morning after yesterday’s epic and my aim was just to get through the day, no matter how long it took. The route would take us up and over the Wicklow Mountains south of Dublin with the hilliest profile so far.


The first hill came after just 4 miles and though we had been asked to stay as a group until we left town, there was little point trying to hang on to any big groups as the field would split the minute we started climbing. We started and I was definitely going through a rough patch for the first 20 miles or so as we climbed up onto the moorland. Luckily I was alongside my trusty riding companion Julia again, we’d spent most of the Tour riding together now so it seemed only fitting that we would do the final stage together.

It was a school day again and after the quietness of Sunday’s country lanes and deserted villages the cheers of the school children lined up along the playground fences was a welcome sound. Paul was slightly up ahead with Mark and Dave, two of the Irish guys we’d also spent much of the past few days with and we formed a small group of familiar faces to get to the first feed station at 50 miles. Each dragging climb was followed by a long, fast descent but it still took three and a half hours; this was shaping up to be the longest day of the whole event.

Stocked up again with energy drink, gels and bars we headed out to start the real climbing! Mark and Dave were local and knew the area well, we had four very big climbs ahead including Wicklow Gap and Hollywood. Slow and steady would be the order of the day in the baking sun. The first climb was 1100ft over a few miles with an equally long descent back down in to the valley followed by another similar climb. Our group was spread out, each taking the climb at their own pace, but we’d soon come together on the flat. Thankfully my legs had come back now and I was feeling pretty good.

It didn’t bother me that we still had a long way to go with lots of hills and it was going to take a few more hours, this is what I did each day now. It’s funny how your perception changes so quickly. Only three days ago I was daunted by the idea of riding 115 miles and being out on the bike for six or seven hours; now it was normal – get up, have breakfast, ride bike, eat dinner, go to bed. That was it, that was my life.

One by one we ticked off the big climbs, with the last one marked by a feed station at the top of Wicklow Gap. I put a windproof gillet on for the final descent as it was apparently a bit of a monster. On the way down we gathered more riders to form into a larger group along with the Dulwich Paragon guys to get us the last 40 miles to the finish. The scenery was stunning. We were riding around some lakes and the water glistened in the bright sunshine – what a perfect final day.

We were riding at a fairly steady pace, though this was all relative now. Previously my steady pace was about 12mph, it now seemed to be somewhere around 18mph. There was still lots of chatting and laughing and the two-up through and off had become second nature, considering I’d never done it before last week. Just as the Dulwich guys decided to up the pace slightly I turned around to see Paul, Dave and Mark had dropped off the back of the group of 10 or so. As I’d been riding at the front for a while I wasn’t sure what had happened and somebody mentioned there’d been a mechanical problem of some sort. I assumed this was them and that they would soon join back on.

After a few miles there was still no sign so I pulled over to wait for them, Julia kindly waited with me. It had been such an incredible challenge that I wanted to cross the line with IP, and if there had been a problem it was going to be easier to ride in with five of us rather than leaving just the three of them. If there’s one thing I have learnt during this trip, it’s the difference riding with a group can make to your overall speed. A while later the three of them came around the corner and we started off so they could join onto the back of us. Mark was really suffering and we were handing him all the energy gels and drink that we had left. He was shocked when Paul had waited for him, he was even more surprised that Julia and I had waited for them to help them home. I don’t leave anyone behind when I go mountain biking and I’m not going to do it on the road either.

We still had 20 to 25 miles to go. These are Irish miles remember and it had become clear over the days that distances could vary: 1km could be anything between 500m and 3km; 50miles would be somewhere between 45 and 60! So after 105miles, knowing the stage should be 125 miles, plus the fact we had a detour of 8km (but nobody knew whether this was 8km more or 8km less) we had anywhere between 15 and 30 miles left.

It was a pleasant evening and the four of us took our short turns on the front, all the time keeping an eye on Mark at the back. At 5pm I hoped there wasn’t much further to go, this was the longest day, but also a fantastic day. One last short climb (just what I didn’t need!) and the 20km sign. Finally! A little bit further on was the 10km sign – I told you we were using Irish miles. And then we saw the finish at the Westmanstown Leisure Complex. But today there wasn’t a sprint, it wasn’t every man for himself in a final bid for glory. Instead there was a real sense of achievement, the completion of a tough challenge that each of the five of us had played an essential part in. One last glance made sure Mark was with us. Dave and Julia had gone slightly ahead on the last climb, but as we turned into the car park they were standing by the timing mat, waiting for us so we could all cross the finish line together.

Compulsory hugs and handshakes took place just beyond the finishing arch. There was an overwhelming feeling of relief and satisfaction from everyone milling around packing their bikes away and it wasn’t long before more new found friends who had already finished came over to have a chat. Then it was time to collect our medals and watch the Presentations whilst having a roast dinner – not presentations for first place or fastest riders or any of that rubbish, just thank you’s to everyone involved and a few special momentos given to people for their help. I had a couple of pints of Guinness to celebrate, swapped email addresses with some people, thanked the organisers for putting on a first class event and headed off to my hotel in Dublin to meet up for drinks with an old friend – but that’s another story…

Back to Earth with a Bump

All good things must come to an end; it was inevitable that after my great week playing about on bikes, that it would end. In fact it came to an abrupt halt.

I read somewhere not so long ago that Noel Edmonds believes the universe is constantly trying to give us exactly what we want, but we either ignore the signs, don't listen or fight against it. I've always be someone who goes with the flow and happily cruises along through life taking whatever it throws at me and not really worrying too much about anything else. This may be one of the reasons why I enjoy life so much - I have no inclination to fight against the universe and it obviously appreciates this and leaves me alone. Most of the time...

Now and again however it gives me a little reminder that it's still there, watching, waiting for me to start a rebellion. There was a small skirmish on Sunday but my pathetic attempt at a power shift was rapidly overthrown. I should have known. All the signs were there, I just didn't see them.

It was the Forest of Dean Classic sportive and I'd decided to drive over to Monmouth at 6am as a last gasp attempt to get fit for the Tour of Ireland. (I know, I know, it's far too late to gain any fitness but at least I'd give my legs a spin and I had to feel like I was doing something.) Anyway, 6am, the sun was shining. Pah, what do the weathermen know - rain my foot! I picked up my kit bag and as I loaded into the car I felt a sharp pain shoot across my lower back. Ow! Sitting in the car was uncomfortable to say the least. But I persevered.

Somewhere near Oxford it started to rain. I turned on the windscreen wipers and they started smearing an inch wide strip right in my eye line. After a few miles I had to stop to clean the wiperblade and as I leant over to pull it up I felt another sharp pain in my back. This was going to make it a very long and painful day. I looked back up the road and thought about going home. But no, I persevered.

On the A40 approaching Birdlip there was a huge black cloud somewhere over Gloucester and three, large, consecutive lightning strikes! Now if that isn't a sign from a higher power to turn around now or face certain doom, then I don't know what is. But still, I persevered.

I finally arrived at Monmouth and set off on the 85 mile route. Just minutes into the first of the fourteen climbs my heart rate was unusually high and after riding out of the saddle for a few minutes around one of the hairpins my shoulders went dead; a sensation I usually only encounter at the end of a long ride on a steep climb. Being a finely tuned athlete (ahem!) I knew there was something very wrong, and persevered...

Just a couple of miles later my recurring knee problem started. For some reason I thought I'd be able to ride it off the way I had done on the last couple of rides. After 15 miles it wasn't easing. After 20 miles I was dropping into the lowest gear on any incline so I could spin up rather than having to put pressure on my knee. At 25 miles I was wondering which was the shortest way back to the car. At 30 miles I was standing in a torrential downpour, removing my number and getting directions home. I quit. I was beaten. But the worst was yet to come...

I started the drive home and soon got tired. I couldn't seem to keep my eyes open. I was feeling slightly unwell by this point and even though I clocked up 46 miles on the bike, hadn't felt like eating anything. Traffic was slow and it was taking longer than usual. I pulled over to take a snooze, jumped out of the car and promptly threw up. Another deluge started as I was standing by the car.

So there I was, standing on the side of the A40 in torrential rain, throwing up, with a bad back, a sore knee, a headache and the first signs of flu. The universe had reasserted its authority without any room for doubt about who's boss and it's not a theory I will be testing again in the near future. From now on just stay quiet, watch, listen, and the universe will take care of the rest. Trust me!

Oh b#ll#@$!

I'm locked out of my bathroom! I got home this evening to find that the door wouldn't open more than a couple of inches, something was jamming it. Bugger! I got a small mirror and manoeuvred it around the door to see what the problem was - it was the wooden bath panel. The panel had been removed some months ago to get to the pipework under the bath. It had been leaning up against the bath ever since. It wasn't leaning any more.

After much reaching, scrabbling, stretching and trying to make my arm bend halfway between the elbow and the wrist, I gave up; I was running out of unbruised sections of my forearm for the door to rebound against. Lucky for me I have another toilet downstairs.

So currently, I can't move the bath panel, I can't lift the bath panel. There's something wedged underneath it so it won't lie flat on the floor. The door hinges are in the bathroom and I can't get to the hinge on the door itself. The door is made of solid wood. I'm locked out of my bathroom.

On a brighter note, I'm at the end of another week of my challenge: 13 hours, 125 miles. Much better totals than last week and I'm half way through. Whoopee!

Day 15, Friday - raining when I got home so just another hour on the turbo trainer.

Day 16, Saturday - a big day. 5 hours on the road doing a recce for the new Mayhem Classic Sportive that Patrick Adams is running as part of Mountain Mayhem this year; 100km and about 1600m of ascent. Luckily we didn't have any of the rain, hail or snow that the rest of the country was having, just gale force winds.

Day 17, Sunday - a little day. Span the legs out on the turbo for an hour. It's been a couple of months since I did a 5 hour ride so I thought it best not to push things if I have to ride again tomorrow. I had a wash in the kitchen sink. Did I mention I can't get into the bathroom?