The Road to Ventoux: Part I

So, finally, the big day dawned. Except it hadn't. Not at 4.30. But that was when my alarm went off.

The alarm was superfluous anyway, as I'd already been awake for some time, checking my watch every ten minutes as I tried, in vain, to get some rest.

Bleary eyed and cotton headed, I slid into my cycling gear and walked down the corridor to breakfast at my allotted time of 4.45, knowing I had to eat as much as possible, but still finding it nigh on impossible. The best I could manage was three slices of raisin bread and a cup of coffee. Luckily I'd made up a litre bottle of SiS PSP22 to try and top up my carbs and fluids, and at least that was going down ok.

Amazingly, considering how many of us there were to herd, everyone was ready to go at 5.30, and we set off on the short ride from the hotel to the start line. It was good to actually be on the bike, although not so good to be taking on the HGV's on the Montelimar bypass in the dark.

We were already getting our first 'honks' of encouragement though, and as we rolled into our start pen, I told myself that I'd finally arrived: fit (ish), healthy and as well prepared as I was ever likely to be. Whatever happened, I'd given it my best shot.

By getting into Montelimar early, despite having pretty much the lowest possible numbers (mine was 9453 out of 9500), we'd at least managed to get to the front of our pen - giving ourselves an extra 5 mins or so on the broom-wagon, but meaning a wait of an hour and a half before we were likely to get away.

I got chatting to a couple of people waiting with us - an American guy who'd done the Etape before a few times, and a fellow Brit first-timer. Again, it made the time go a bit quicker, and took my mind

off the pain to come, and (almost) before we knew it, 7 o'clock had come round.

In the distance, we could hear the announcement of the start and a few cheers, but not much else. It was going to be at least 20 mins before we set off, and that was 20 mins nearer the broom wagon.

In fact, the start took a bit longer than I'd anticipated, and it wasn't until 25 past that there were some signs of movement. It was about this point that I noticed my front wheel was rubbing. I don't know why it decided to do this at the precise moment that I was about to start the biggest bike ride of my life...but it did. I quickly tried adjusting the quick release to see if that would do any good, but no joy...so eventually the only thing to do was slacken off the front brake. It was still usable, but only with significant pressure on the brake levers...but at this point I didn't have a whole load of choice.

Eventually, around 7.27, there was a chorus of clicks as the last 1500 of us stepped into our pedals, and we were off. We were a fair way back from the actual start line, and there was plenty of congestion, so as we picked our way through the traffic, moving forward gradually, it was almost 7.40 before we finally got across the line, and started the Etape proper.

Alarmingly, 7.40 was the first elimination time. I was going to have to start fast, to get a buffer on the broom wagon.

Lost in France - The Weekend

'Lost' pretty much describes how I felt in the couple of days before the big one, as the nerves started to kick in properly.

It all started quite badly on the Friday night, when I realised that my flight to Marseille was much earlier than I'd thought, and I'd have to leave for Gatwick at 5am. For some reason I'd been uncharacteristically behind with my preparations and packing, so when I left I had the overwhelming feeling that I'd forgotten something REALLY important.

At Gatwick, it looked like every second person in the queue had their bike with them and was heading for the Etape. The thing was, that they all looked like 'proper' cyclists, whereas I was peddling my usual indie-slacker schtick and felt somewhat out of place.

In the queue, I bumped into Yanto Barker, an ex-pro who's been riding again on the circuit this year, and has been helping out the Sky team. We had a good chat on the plane, and it was fascinating to hear his insights. Although I have absolutely no talent myself, I do really love the sporting side of cycling and it was great to hear about the pro-circuit from the 'horse's mouth'. Actually took my mind off the Etape too, which was a good thing at this point!

Of course I couldn't avoid it when we finally got to the hotel in Montelimar. The hotel was just a little bit outside the 'centre ville', somewhat bizarrely situated on an out of town trading estate. That and the necessarily 'budget' nature of the hotel all contributed to an overwhelming sensation of disorientation and anxiety which was difficult to shift over the next couple of days.

Part of this was that I hadn't actually properly met lots of the other members of the Sky team before and although they were all great - again, I felt a little bit of an impostor amongst lots of seriously good cyclists.

It was good to actually get on with stuff in the afternoon, and we headed down to the start village to register. It was all very well organised - booths for each batch of 500 numbers (of course our booth was right at the end of a very long line) and then round the corner to check transponders and pick up Etape 2009 goodies - a nice Trek rucksack, T-shirt and water bottle.

Since we'd arrived, we'd all been somewhat anxiously assessing the weather. It was basically pretty hot - 30+ degrees and only a light breeze - and it looked set to be similar for the Etape itself. I was pretty fatigued from just walking around the start village in those temperatures, so it didn't bode well!

After another pretty much sleepless night, Sunday went past in a bit of a blur. There was a lot of faffing in the morning - which is understandable given that there were 25 of us, and a big group from British Cycling to herd too. We eventually headed down to the bike store in Montelimar, to pick up and assemble our bikes. Much to my amazement, my bike went together in very straightforward fashion and seemed to be working perfectly.

We then cycled back to the hotel before going out for a quick spin along the first 20km or so of the Etape route. Unfortunately, I hadn't had a chance to tape up my knees or give them their usual slathering with anti-inflammatory gel. After about 10kms, they started to ache fairly steadily, and given that I wasn't going to win any medals for Sunday heroics, I decided to turn back before getting to the first climb - the Cote de Citelle. It was disappointing, and disheartening, but definitely the right decision. I'd only ever really intended to do 45 mins or so on the Sunday anyway, and I ended up doing more than that and there wasn't really anything to be gained by pushing myself any harder.

That gave me time in the afternoon to get all my stuff together for the Monday - lay out all my kit, put my number on the bike, and make sure everything was ready for the off. Once I'd done that, I felt a bit more 'relaxed', although by this point it was all relative.

My sister and folks popped up to Montelimar in the evening just to say hello and to work out where they might be able to catch up with me during the Etape. We thought that Mormoiron would be their best bet, as my friend Manny had friends there, and it would be not too far from where they were staying, but before the likely chaos of Bedoin.

At dinner, I tried unsuccessfully to force myself to eat loads, but it just wasn't working. I'd actually had a pretty positive mental attitude in the week leading up to the Etape, so I wonder if the feelings of anxiety I had were really just my body acknowledging that I was about to submit it to some extreme and unnecessary suffering, and gently trying to persuade me that this might not be such a great idea.

Only one way to find out...

Finished

I probably should have said before I left that as I am staying in France for the real Ventoux stage on Saturday, it might be a little while before I could update the blog.

Anyway, I finished it, but 6hrs 30 for the first 92 miles and 3hrs 15 for the last 14 miles prob tells you everything you need to know about Ventoux.

Will update properly when I am back on Sunday and not struggling with a French keyboard.

It WASN'T a good idea....

'Road to Ventoux' actually gave me mountain nightmares! Didn't help that Thursday's my Childline morning, so alarm goes off at 5.15. On top of that, because I had so much to sort out/buy before I head off, I missed my usual Thursday afternoon nap (no, I'm not heinously lazy, it's just to make up for the early start), so absolutely shattered now.

Just did my final short 'threshold' session on the turbo trainer - my last actual training session before the Etape - which was a bit strange. Knee problems and generally being slightly 'over' the whole training thing mean I'm pretty sure I won't be seeing the Tacx for a while now!

Wore the new jersey, just so I could get a bit of 'wear' in it before popping it in the wash. From the snowstorm of emails going around the Sky team today, it seems it's not just me who's noticed the 'snug' fit of the jerseys. However, although it seemed a bit weird when I put it on, because all my other jerseys are a bit looser, I was comparing it with the fit of the TdF riders' tops today, and they all seem quite tight too. Also, I noticed when I took it off after my turbo session - Jersey = very wet and smelly but; Me = quite dry and not quite so smelly....which I think is probably the idea.

Feeling a bit less stressed out than I was this morning - back to the slightly calmer..done the training/que sera sera mode of yesterday, but I'm sure the nerves will ramp up a bit when I get over there.

The taper seems to have been going well for me though. I've been keeping a crafty eye on my weight etc., and despite the fact that I've been absolutely stuffing myself with carbs, my weight's gone down, my muscle mass has gone up and my body fat's gone down - all reasonably significantly.

It makes me think that perhaps I haven't been eating enough as I've been going along. I will do a final weigh in either tomorrow or Saturday morning anyway, just to get a better idea of how things have gone this week - could be interesting.

Not sure if that was a good idea...

As part of the final preparations, I just watched The Road to Ventoux, a DVD of a recce of the route of the Etape. That thing should come with an 18 certificate!

To be honest, most of it looked doable, and really beautiful - so I'm looking forward to enjoying that...however, the climb of Ventoux looked super-grim....especially the forest section. I knew it was gonna be the hardest thing I've ever done - by some distance - but seeing it 'in the flesh' again wasn't pretty.

Maybe it's a good thing if it reminds me to make sure that I've got plenty left in reserve, and to ensure that I eat and drink enough to get through it. In the end, what I've always said is that when I get to the bottom of Ventoux, I'll only be 21km from the finish - if I get that far I know I'll be able to find a way to get through it, however hard it gets.

The calm before the storm?

I've noticed on other blogs that some of my fellow first time Etapists are experiencing 'taper madness'. I'm guessing that's a form of acute anxiety brought on by the need to reduce training for optimum performance, while simultaneously feeling that you should be doing more training.

I can completely understand that feeling because it's exactly how I was last week - good to know it's got a name! - but I seem to have tipped the other way in the last few days - towards an acceptance that I've done as much training as I could have done, I'm not going to get any fitter now and whatever will be will be.

A big help in that has been my measured fitness improvements from last week's Sportstest assessment. I'm never going to be very fit, but at least I know that I've done my best to get myself in the best condition I was ever likely to manage, and that's all that can reasonably be expected.

So, I've just been ticking off my taper programme - some threshold intervals on the turbo yesterday, and 90 minutes or so of 'endurance' riding today. Day off tomorrow for some yoga, then some more threshold intervals on Thursday - pack the bike up and off on Saturday.

What's proving slightly tricky is adjusting to my new 'endurance' and 'threshold' zones. As they've gone up by ten bpm, I'm having to work significantly harder to keep in those zones, but

the plus side is that I won't be using too much of my valuable glycogen stores until I get up to that higher zone.

As far as pacing is concerned, I think I'm just going to go with how I feel on the day, and use my heart rate monitor as a backup reference point. Essentially what I want to do is stay below the upper level of my 'endurance' zone as much as possible, and stay out of the 'red zone' completely. I don't think I'll worry too much about staying in my threshold zone on the climbs, because that feels a bit tough at the moment.

Encouragingly, although I wasn't pushing things hard at all today, my average speed was up above 18mph, which backs up how I've been feeling the last couple of weeks and makes me feel slightly more confident about broom-wagon issues.

I kinda needed that extra reassurance, because it does now look like the broom wagon will be starting right behind me. There was a bit of an issue with our race numbers in that it was suggested fairly early on that we might get pretty good start positions, but lots of us have actually ended up with fairly ropey ones - 9453 in my case. As I've said before, that's fine and somebody has to have those numbers, but it would have been nice to have those extra few minutes breathing space. Hopefully though, it shouldn't come down to that.

The good news is that we finally got our race jerseys today. I did attempt to take some photos with mine on, but the combination of self-timer anxiety and mine general discomfort with photos of myself led to several sub-'Kays Catalogue' poses, which are best kept out of the public domain.

Hopefully you can see that the jersey's kinda purty though. The profile of the stage running round the bottom of the jersey looks really good, and makes it appropriately unique to the day.

Interestingly, when it's on, it's those 3 Adidas stripes which give it the real 'British Cycling' vibe and make even me feel almost like a 'pro'.

It's a pretty 'snug' fit, but I guess that's best for moisture transfer etc. It'll definitely be an incentive for me not to put on any of the weight I've lost over the last few months, because even the smallest bulge is painfully obvious!

The only issue which a few people have mentioned is that it's only got a small zip. At the moment it looks like it's gonna be 33 degrees or so on the day, and a full length zip might have given more cooling options. I've actually been trying out a new Craft sleeveless base layer which is specifically designed to keep you cool in particularly hot conditions. So far it seems to work ok, so I'm gonna give it a go on the Etape.

One really good thing about the jersey is that it's got really deep pockets. This is important, because I've got loads of stuff to carry on the ride. If the weather stays like it is, I prob won't bother with arm warmers/gilet/rain jacket etc., but there's still loads of food/electrolytes etc. that I definitely WILL need to take.

As part of my carrying strategy, I tried out my tri-bag this afternoon. Essentially it's a little bag which sits on the top tube of the bike, up near the headset. I squeezed 6 or 7 gels into it, and can prob get a few extra bits and bobs in the side pockets. They're easy to get hold of from out of the bag, and that's a lot of stuff that won't be swinging about in my pockets, which should make me feel less like a pack horse.

I'll be very obvious on the day, because apart from the jersey, people will be able to recognise me by the enormous swathes of tape on my knees. I tried taping both knees today, because my right leg was starting to feel a bit 'flappy' in comparison to the previously problematic left one. Despite looking ridiculous, I think it genuinely helped me, so again I think I'm gonna go with that strategy on Monday.

As you can tell, I've spent this last week or so deciding on final details for the day, and I feel as ready as I'm ever going to be. It's obviously going to be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm determined to really enjoy it.

Here are my weights and measures for this week. They're not really going to make a whole bunch of difference now, but as they're my last lot before the Etape, I thought they were worth putting in. Also, you'll note the discrepancy with the kinda 'guessed' measures of the Tanita scales on things like body fat, compared with the measured figures of my Sportstest assessment.

Weight: 10 stone 9lbs - Total weight loss 19lbs

Body Fat: 16.9%

Visceral Fat Rating: 5 (never did get down to 4)

Basal Metabolic Rate: 6820 kJ / 1630 kcal

Muscle Mass: 8 st 6lbs

Water: 57.5%

The only issue of concern here is that my Muscle Mass has been going down over the last few weeks, and it was also something that Garry Palmer noticed last week - that my lean body mass had gone down slightly. Not entirely sure why this is - hopefully it's just a reduction in upper body mass as I haven't really been doing any upper body work at the gym over the last few months - but whatever it is, there's not a lot I can do about it right now. Just something to monitor if I decide to take on any endurance activities for next year.

Before and After

Early this morning, I cycled down to Hampton to get my physiological retests from Dr Garry Palmer.

I first went to see him in March, and you can read the details of the methodology and see the amusing photos here.

Obviously, the idea was to see if all the work I've put in has actually had a measurable effect on my fitness. I was actually pretty nervous about what the results would be, because it's all very well if you haven't done the work and you don't improve much - because then you get what you 'deserve'. However, I've put in hours and hours on the bike - some of it fun, but lots of it hard and painful - and to have not seen any improvements would have been very disheartening.

The one area where I knew I'd done well was in my weight loss, and that's what Garry went through first.

In March, I was 74.8kg with a measured body fat of 14.1%.

While this was 'ideal' for the normal population, Garry had said that in order to be able to take on the Etape in relative comfort, I needed to be working towards the levels expected of a 'trained athlete'.

Therefore, he'd set me the target of reducing my weight to 71.7kg and a target body fat of 10% - ideally I would get down towards 8%.

Today, Garry weighed me at 68.4kg, with a body fat of 8.6% - both comfortably below my targets.

Perhaps the most dramatic stat is that in March I had a fat mass of 10.6kg, today my fat mass is down to just 5.9kg, which sounds - and feels - really good.

From the 'sub-maximal efficiency' tests (explained more fully in the original post), my efficiency has actually remained pretty much constant - although it was at a fairly healthy level anyway.

What has improved, is that at my first test, I went 'anaerobic' during this test, so that I would have been using more carbohydrate than fat as energy - something that I'll want to be avoiding on the Etape, because carbohydrate stores are more limited. Today, I went nowhere near being anaerobic, which means I can work harder/cycle faster before eating into my carbohydrate stores.

From the 'maximal exercise tests' - in March, my maximum power was 277 watts. Garry had said I should be looking at something nearer 300. Today, my maximum power was 307 - a 10% increase and again above my target.

My maximum heart rate in March was 183. Today, that had increased to 187.

A crucial measure for me, for the Etape - and for cycling in general - is the Maximum Power/Weight Ratio, as this is what actually gets you up hills.

In March, my power/weight ratio was 3.71 watts/kg, with a target of 4-4.5 watts/kg. Today, my increase in maximum power, coupled with significant loss of weight meant my power/weight ratio is up to 4.49 watts/kg - right at the top of my target range.

Again, crucial for cycling is the VO2 max measurement. It's kinda difficult to explain (ie. I don't really understand it), but apparently it's defined as 'the highest rate of oxygen consumption attainable during maximal or exhaustive exercise'. 'It is generally considered the best indicator of cardiorespiratory endurance and aerobic fitness'.

In March this was already at quite a high level 50.3. However, today that's improved to 63.6 - a 20% plus improvement, which again feels great. In my age range, anything greater than 50ish is regarded as 'excellent', and in fact only around 3% of the population are in this range. On one of the charts I looked at, a VO2 max of above 65 is regarded as 'Olympic'! I'm very much NOT 'Olympic', but it's kinda encouraging that at least on one measure I appear reasonably fit.

Obviously, I'm pleased with that, although if it doesn't translate to speed on the road, then it's not much use to me. I think it may be best to regard my VO2 max as my 'potential' fitness, that I might be able to tap into with more training.

On a practical level, I wanted to know from Garry how I need to pace myself for the Etape. I've been using my heart rate to judge how hard I should be going - generally trying to keep myself in the 'Endurance' Zone, with occasional forays into the 'Threshold' Zone when sprinting to catch a group or climbing.

The sum total of my training improvements is that my anaerobic threshold has risen, so that my heart rate zones have moved.

My endurance zone (which was 142-152 bpm) has now increased to 151-161. My threshold zone (which was 162-172) has now changed to 171-181. That leaves 182-187 as my Speed and Power Zone.

As suggested above, that indicates that I should be riding the majority of the Etape at heart rates up to 171, but during the climbs, it'll be acceptable to be working up to heart rates of 181.

Where possible of course, I should be trying to keep to the lower ends of these zones, rather than the upper extremities.

So overall - the results were about as positive as I could reasonably have hoped. It was almost worth the money just to have the psychological encouragement, and Garry was very reassuring about my chances for the Etape, which is exactly what I need right now.