my  block

where uzairs roam

Last weekend was busy. The UBS date for the Chase Corporate Challenge was Thursday the 6th, and then the Dunwich Dynamo was scheduled for the night falling between Saturday and Sunday, the 8th and 9th. I finished the CCC, though not in the time I had hoped for, but I turned around after reaching the halfway point of the DD and took the train back to London. Why? Read on.

As I reported previously, I did a trial run in the gym to see what sort of pace I should be targetting for the CCC. I had never run over a mile before, but I did 3 8-minute miles fairly comfortably that day, so I was reasonably confident I would finish under 30 minutes. Unfortunately, I hadn’t accounted for the variables. First, the place was packed. No, you don’t understand: packed. As in, over 12,000 runners. As in, I didn’t even get to the start line until 6 minutes after the race started, and apparently there were people who started 20 minutes after me! That really didn’t help me with my pace, because I decided (in typically haughty style) that everyone else was a slug and that I must break away from the pack. So I started hopping around, trying to find gaps and get ahead. Unsurprisingly, I wasted a lot of energy there.

Actually, I think the real damage was done before the race: I had to run half a mile from the tube stop to the park because I was running late. Running late because I was lugging my bike from home to Liverpool Street (and by lugging, I mean carrying, because the damn thing had two flats). Lugging my bike because I had to get it ready for the DD, and getting an appointment at a garage was a real PITA since it’s nice weather and everyone’s getting their bikes tuned.

Anyway, I ended up running 31:40 over the 3.5 mile course. Way outside the 28:00 I wanted to do, but actually inside the 32:00 I had initially estimated it would take me. Enough to make me happy for my first organised run. And hey, I got 2 t-shirts out of the deal :)

But oh, those variables! I probably should have stretched or done a proper cooldown after the run (instead of getting in line, chugging a Coke and then sitting down in the cool evening breeze to chat with SAA over the phone). I didn’t feel it at all that night or the day after, but I woke up on Saturday — DD-day — feeling distinctly sore.

Anyway, I sucked it up and went down to Waterloo to pick up my bike from the garage and cycle home. I stopped at an Evan’s on the way back to pick up some additional gear: a helmet (essential), Perl Izumi biking undershorts with a chamois, 6 energy bars, extra tyre tubes, and gloves made of breathable material. As I was leaving, the salesperson asked me what was wrong with my foot. I looked down, to find the back of socks blood-red from the ankle down. Apparently, the soreness I’d felt in my feet was because the shoes I’d worn for the CCC had torn a patch of skin off my foot. Oh, bovver.

Right, helmet, shorts, energy bars — check. I cycled home, ate and napped for a while — AH, I managed to get a couple of hours of decent sleep. I woke up at 7-ish, showered and packed my backpack and rode out to the Pub in the Park, where the ride was to start. The park was packed; there must have been about 700 riders.

We started at 8:45PM, and were out of the city by about a quarter after. We all started as a pack initially, but broke up, as sensible people found their pace in the back, racers sprinted to the front, and ambitious first-timers (yours truly included) settled in the middle.

The ride was fairly comfortable, with a few ups and downs, but generally quite flat. I was happy to leave the busier roads behind as it got darker, though as the sun set, it became obvious the scenery wouldn’t help keep me awake: literally the only thing you could see were the 15-20 feet in front of you, the horizon and, perhaps some outlined trees. Talk about monotonous. It was interesting to listen to people talking during the ride, and it underscored the point that you really had to settle in for the long haul if you were going to finish it.

It wasn’t until about 12PM that it occurred to me that I would gladly have traded the delightfully charming, undulating English countryside for flatter terrain. My legs were still feeling strong, but I remember feeling slightly agitated that we seemed to be perpetually going uphill, with the downhill slopes that a ride to the coast promises nowhere in sight. (Run-on sentence. That’s kind of what it felt like riding uphill. Muhaha, revenge of the literature student!)

By 1AM, the thunderstorm that GM had chuckled about on Thursday and CC had confirmed before we started the ride had arrived, bringing with it a trickle of rain that turned into a steady shower. I had skimped on a proper cycling top and instead gone with a t-shirt over a sweatshirt, with a backup sweatshirt in my backpack. Everything quickly got soaked, but I rode on.

About 15 miles from the halfway point (where the map promised hot food), I took a left where I should’ve taken a right and got lost. I had been riding alone for about 10 minutes at that point, but in the half hour it took me to realise I was off on my own and recover, a whole lot of people passed me. I was squinting at my map when two unicyclists appeared behind me.

Yes, unicyclists…about 50 miles into the ride. To fully appreciate how ridiculous and awesome this feat is, you have to understand that unicyclists
a) have to consciously keep their balance
b) can’t move their bodies much to keep from getting sore
c) have to cycle downhill as well as uphill

Anyway, we rode together for a while, which made for interesting conversation. They were law students, and had just graduated. One wore dreadlocks and listened to Jack Johnson on the way :)

Unfortunately, that really slowed me down: we took a break every so often (ie, at every hill), and though I was glad to take them, I didn’t need to. Also, I had to pedal slower to stay with them. Eventually, I was feeling cold enough and tired enough that I decided I had to leave them, so I cycled on ahead. Again, I was alone, but the map was fairly clear by this point, so I soldiered on.

And this was where I made my big mistake. A rush of blood hit me as I approached the halfway point, and I decided, teeth chattering, to make a dash for it and keep going. I think my logic at that point was that the hot food would probably not be vegetarian anyway, so the stop would do more discourage than reinvigorate me.

At about 3AM, 5 miles past the halfway point, I realised I was flagging and that stopping to at least dry my top would have been wise. So I cycled back, answering “yep” to every “y’all right?” I got on the way. As I approached the village hall where meals were being served, my handle bars suddenly came loose; apparently I had been straining too hard with them on the uphill climbs. Luckily, I made it to the village hall, where a friendly cyclist whipped out his number-5 tool and tightened it up.

Once inside, I tasted the fine cuisine available to us (bananas and cold vegetable pasta) and tried to get my tops dried off. They had a little electric heater thankfully, so I arranged my sweatshirts one after the other for about an hour till they were reasonably dry. By this time, it was getting light outside, but the rain hadn’t let up.

Ultimately, the decision to turn back wasn’t difficult since:

• I was tired
• I was sleepy
• I was freezing — still shivering even with everything back on
• I would have gotten to Dunwich fairly late

So, around 5:30AM, I SMS’d Paul and officially packed it in. I slept on a chair for a couple of hours and then we rode back to Sudbury. There were a fair number of people who were turning back, including one of the ’sweepers’ (ie, people who ride behind everyone to help with cycle problems etc.) who told me a couple of riders had been hit by a drunk driver outside Epping, resulting in a death. Scary stuff — I ran into a bunch of weirdos, some of whom actually stopped and chatted with me!

I’m disappointed I didn’t finish the ride, but I’m quite satisfied with the week overall. After all, before last week, I had never run more than 2 miles, or ridden more than 20 miles on a bike. Now, I’ve run 3.5 miles and ridden 70 miles. Good enough for me.

For now :)

(Sadly, I didn’t gain even an inch on my vertical. I’m starting to think maybe it has more to do with stretching than pure exercise.)