Coach Carter

I’ve set myself some challenges in my time as a cyclist: competing in time trials, riding up mountains, travelling long distances, even 4 hour turbo sessions! But, I don’t think I have ever experienced anything like the 3 days cycling from Esher, West London to Paris.

I had prepared pretty well for the London to Paris bike ride, my goal for 2010. I had been putting in the miles consistently since before our PBscience training camp in Majorca, and kept that momentum going well through March, April and May. I set myself small stepping stones along the way including hitting the race stage distance of 100 miles, putting together back to back rides, and ensuring I practiced my fuelling strategy. My bike was ready too, having been in at the Tristore for a service; whilst my body has been serviced by Luke at Sportswise and good friend Tracy manipulating my somewhat dodgy back (long miles and long desk hours - a dangerous combo for my lower back and neck). Not to be in danger of not taking my own advice, a kit list was created, and by Wednesday lunchtime I was all packed and ready to register up in Esher. As Juliette and I collected our race numbers (and obligatory race t-shirt!) in the sun, I should have been tipped off by what was going to become THE biggest obstacle for me: the searing heat.

(you can click on the power file pictures to get a closer look at them)

Day 1: Esher to Dover

My Dad, ever the faithful taxi driver, dropped me off at Esher at 6:45 am. I had been awake since 5am, so plenty of time to get a good breakfast and coffee inside of me. Despite concerns of needing the toilet as soon as I started (!) I had already drunk 2 litres of electrolyte by the time I got on the bike for the 8am start. The forecast was for temperatures in the mid 20s – and they were right. I was grateful for the prompt roll off – it felt like a headstart on the heat. I was nervous but excited as Juliette and I lined up in Group 2 – around 80 of us were due to complete this journey together; another 300 riders were also strung out on the roads of Surrey, Sussex and Kent. I was confident in my fitness, and believed that keeping within a group so big would be well within my control. By the lunch stop at Lamberhurst after 56 miles, the excitement turned to anxiety – I was realising that a lot of the ride was to be well OUTSIDE of my control!!!

We had an hour for lunch, and that was quite tricky to deal with in itself – too long to keep nimble and loose, too short to recover: awkward length of time to eat well but digest the food. Originally, I thought it would be best to skip lunch and just rely on my normal carbohydrate drink, gel and bar diet to fuel myself. But the length of the stop made that tricky – and after 3 hours of sports supplements (knowing another 15 hours were to follow!) you crave ‘normal’ food, salty food (okay, I had a slice of cake!). The hour also gave my anxiety chance to rise – the morning had been tough – not the distance, but the way the group were riding. The ride captains are given pacing to keep to; and in a group of men (Juliette and I were the only two women in our group) the intensity of the ride was understandably ridden to their pattern: intensity goes up on the hills, easing off on the downhills – I would train in reverse of that: steady on the up, maintain the same effort on the down i.e. even effort, not even pace. Like I say, this is really understandable for men to ride this way – they have bigger power output ranges, even if their endurance is the same as mine. This means if they ride 100W above their lactate threshold over a small rise, its a smaller % of their total range, maybe to 80% of their maximum. Going 100W above LT for me means being at 100% of my maximum aerobic power for that period. Of course, we can sustain maximum for a few minutes – but try repeating that several times, and fatigue follows. Especially in a long ride, especially in a long ride in the growing heat. I was really reluctant to follow the ‘digs’ so I started to ride closer to the back of the group, leaving Juliette to battle it out at the front – she was doing a superb job, her superior power to weight ratio and training status winning out. She was showing the men a thing or two! I was ‘happy’ at the back of the group, using the tortoise and hare approach – letting the men surge up the hill, and me coming back into the group on some of the descents. However, in the twisty lanes of Kent, I lost touch of the group and ended up time trialling to get back on – the risk of my strategy. I knew I had to think again for Day 2 – and on the ferry to Calais, I gave thought as to how the next two days probably needed me to be ‘braver’.

Day 1 stats

Day 2: Calais to Amiens

I slept fairly well over night, and the anxiety of the day before had subsided a little overnight – Juliette was doing a good job in keeping my confidence up. That is the weird thing about self-talk: whilst I had fears, I knew I would complete the ride – in some ways I didn’t believe my own doubting voices, it just felt like the day ahead was going to be incredibly hard and unpleasant. But, I decided that most of my Day 1 problems had been through a lack of courage – if I resolved to stick with the group even when my powers were looking out of my reach, at least I wouldn’t get dropped which had required me to TT my way back into the group – I believed tracking the wheels would be more efficient, even if I was burning more ‘matches’. I explained to Dave, our ride captain, how on Day 1 I was limiting myself, riding within my comfort zone. In a way, I knew too much – I knew what was happening when I was riding at 400W; I knew the amount of muscle bound carbohydrate I was burning up, the rate of it happening, and how improbable it was that I could sustain that effort. I didn’t have the physiology of the male riders, nor the glycogen store size. I reckoned that I would just up the fuelling going into my body to compensate.

I was enjoying the ride Friday morning. The countryside in France was magnificent. Yes, Britain was beautiful too, but the terrible road surfaces meant you were hesitant to look anywhere beyond 2 m in front of you for fear of hitting the potholes! Two hours into the ride, and I was having fun. The surges were no less challenging, but my resolve to stick with them was paying off – I was spending more time in the shelter of the bunch. On the longer climbs, I sat back and climbed steadily, knowing I would reel the front runners in – I loved it, and I remembered how much I love climbing – at that point I was even considering an Alpine or Pyrenean challenge for my next outing. My new ride strategy was making me hungry, so I was glad to be greeted by lunchtime supplies: the half-expected French baguette, rounded off with Apple tart and Ambrosia rice pudding

I was a little ‘blocked’ after the lunchtime feast, so it took a while to get back into the ride. The heat was also building, and by 2pm in the afternoon, temperatures were soaring. I pressed my SRM computer button to see 31 degrees...the English girl was roasting. Thankfully, Juliette had reminded me of my own advice, and a lunchtime running wrists under cold water helped immensely – as did immersing my head and neck too (did nothing for my helmet hair though!). Mid afternoon though, and the heat was now coming back off the tarmac at me – I was suffering. As well as my core temperature rising, I could sense my glycogen stores were getting very low: one side effect of heat is increased glycolysis for energy – the body strips the glycogen away faster in the heat as it searches for any water it can to offset heat production. My power was dropping in my efforts to keep with the group. My only saving grace was the lead car slowing to keep the group contained on the smaller French roads – it gave me enough time well below my sustaining power to preserve myself to the end of the stage – but I knew I was in trouble, and things were not looking good for Day 3

Day 2 Stats

Day 3: Amien to Calais

I normally like Ibis hotels – and, the breakfast WAS up to normal standards. But, the night receptionist burning his Croque Monsieur at 1am and setting off the fire alarm was NOT part of our preparation plan for Day 3! It meant a sleepless night for me – I have always had that tendency: if I wake up, I stay awake as my brain activity starts. I tossed and turned, and with each movement I could feel my quadriceps cramping up. The day 2 riding, going into the red zone frequently, meant my muscle fibres were short on glycogen and had been hunting around different fibres to support the power output needs. My vastus medialis (often called the sprinters muscle) was almost ‘raw’. As I got up out of bed, I knew I was in trouble. And, unlike Days 1 and 2, today was to see a long morning of 80 miles before breaking for lunch (as the organisers have to get all riders in one group for the final 25 mile precession into Paris). My anxiety was now actually fear and dread. I knew no matter how well I ate at breakfast, I was in deficit – I had done all I could to maximise glycogen replenishment overnight, but the levels to which I had gone would require 48h for full recovery.

The legs improved a little with the 2 hours or so between breakfast and getting astride the bike. The first hour was also pretty steady so I started to think I might be okay. But once again, the temperature was rising. I had heard the forecast was for even hotter conditions as we approached Paris. Indeed, by late morning I was cooking. One of the challenges of the event was keeping with the group while they contested the 'GC' sections each day - on Day 3, this was a 12km section on mainly uphill terrain. I hung in the second bunch, but my efforts were taken me over the edge. I have NEVER worked so hard on the bike - I was being taken to a level of pain I had not experienced before, even in my racing and training days. Mainly because of the heat and accumulated fatigue - but mentally, because it was out of my control - I had to hang on to wheels, the pace was not being set by me - and it destroyed me. We stopped for a quick break after the GC section, some 10km stood between me and lunch (effectively, the end of the challenge because of the roll in to Paris en mass). On paper, it was just a steady climb, but I was in trouble. I rested in the shade of the lead car: as I crouched down, even after 5 minutes my heart rate was sitting at 135bpm – the skin on my arms had goose bumps and no sign of sweat. I had the first signs of heat stroke. Looking back, I realised how close I was to collapse – many athletes have suffered this fate going through that level of exertion in the heat. The most dangerous thing you can do is stop, as at least when you are moving you have a skeletal pump pushing the blood back to the heart. The high heart rate whilst resting shows how much stress I was under; and the dry skin told me I was thoroughly dehydrated. The English rose wasn’t just wilting, she was toasted and uprooted. Juliette saw me and knew I was in trouble – I asked her to pour a bottle of water over my neck, and I contemplated the next 10km. It was about survival, I had to climb at my own pace and just make it to the lunch venue. Twenty-one minutes later, I had made it: as i rolled into the lunch hall it reminded me of the time I descended Sierra Nevada having got altitude sickness at the summit. I wanted to kiss the floor, back on terra firma. But, I didn't have the energy - I simply parked my bike up, edged my way into the lunch queue to collect my baguette and rice pudding. I sat there with my food unable to gather the energy to eat it at first. I knew I had made it, but I didn't have the slightest feeling of relief or satisfaction - I had no emotion, a very odd feeling indeed.

Just 45 minutes later, I wheeled back into the sizzling heat - a little more gathered now. Only 2 hours to go, knowing all we had to do was tap out 15 miles per hour in a group of 350 riders. However, it then ended up with Juliette and I leading that group! What an honour - that perked me up. Joined by my ex-Science in Sport team mate Tanja Slater, the 3 of us led the peloton. At one point Tanja said to me "Look back H" - i was scared to, knowing I might bring down the whole group with my mental capacity being somewhat lower than normal with a fried brain! But when I did, i was astounded - what a site, the colours of 350 cyclists in the sunshine. That, and hitting the cobbles on the Champs Elysee will stay with me forever.

Day 3 stats

Naturally, since I have returned home, many people have asked how I got on - "Did you enjoy it?", "Will you do it again?". No, I didn't "enjoy" it - sure, I had some great moments and I met some lovely people who helped me get through the event BUT, I don't think the 3 days was pleasurable. Would I do it again? Too early to say, but right now the down moments feel to have outweighed the good moments - and anyway, I think I would need a new challenge: now I have completed it, the next step would be to complete it faster, or ride with Group 1....that doesn't necessarily appeal to me. However, I have learnt "jamais dire jamais"! The appeal of these events is the completion rather than competition. However, when we consider the Latin base of the word, competere means to strive together. I felt that, a group of people sharing a common aim of getting from one European capital to another.

Reading this might appear very negative on the whole, but it was far from that. I would not change a single moment of it - I learnt so much about myself mentally, physically and emotionally. I had some amazing realisations as I cycled through the most beautiful scenery in France. Going through periods of suffering is important for our growth as people - the size of the satisfaction is always in proportion to the size of the challenge: so you can imagine the sense of achievement I feel now, looking back. I feel that also helps me in my role as a coach. I think any athlete can understand that training and racing is not always about enjoyment. You don't have to love every pedal stroke you make for it to be worth it overall. Its the bigger picture, what it brings to you that keeps us going out there, that keeps us looking to the next goal.

As I travelled back on the Eurostar on Monday afternoon, I felt incredibly fortunate to have had this experience. I also felt excited to be going home and getting back to work with my athletes. I received many texts of support from them over the weekend; and also lots of nice news about weekend performances and personal bests. This month is all about 'rider reviews', where we take a look back over the first half of the year and plan ahead for an even better second half of the season. Mobie and I will be on the road conducting lab tests too. I enjoy July because it means a lot of 1-2-1 time with the people I work with - that and Tour watching means a happy coach. Oh yes, and the odd ride - but nothing like 330 miles in 3 days: that might be my monthly total from now on!

I'd like to finish with a few thank yous. Firstly to Jane Blanco and all her team crew at Hot Chillee productions for laying on the event - its truly amazing to be on closed roads, have all your kit shiped from bike parks to hotels seamlessly. A brilliant organisational / logstical effort. The motorbike outriders on both sides of the channel did an amazing job, and kept my humour at some low ebb times - especially when they clocked my rider number! To the ride captains on Group 2 duty, Will and Dave (they gave me some much need pacing!); and to my fellow riders in group 2 (thank you to Ian, Marcel and Charles in particular).

The biggest thank you goes to my athlete and friend Juliette. I know you felt guilt for putting me through all this pain "Robot", but I can't thank you enough for your support and company. Can I at least have one year off this?