As anticipated, today’s 135km Woodcote sportive was hard and fast. On a technical, hilly route with lots of gravel, many flatted – but my Conti GP4000s once again proved their worth.
By my reckoning my average speed was 18.6 mph, compared with 18.2 mph on the 100-mile Great Western sportive in June. It was a shorter distance, so this makes sense, considering both events were similarly hilly. However, being in a smaller group today meant doing more pulls on the front – so the speed increase is encouraging.
I left with the first group, eyeing up the field for handy riders. Not really seeing many, I hit the front, and before long was part of a fast-moving 5-man grupetto. Some grizzled veteran did most of the work for the first 90 minutes, powering calmly along in the big ring. Myself and another rider – whose name turned out to be Ben – got in there for a few turns, but the vet seemed indifferent to what anyone else was doing. This was confirmed when he rode away from the first feed stop without waiting for the rest of us.
Etiquette
A note on sportive etiquette.
If you form a group with other riders and ride together with that group for any length of time, you should consider the interests of the group as well your own. This applies to drafting and sharing the work, and is as much about fair play as about the obvious point that a group of riders working together will always go faster than if those same riders rode alone.
When working as a group, the goal is to instil a rhythm for sharing turns at the front of the group. I reckon with a group of 5 you should be aiming for max. 2-minute turns on the front. When you’re done, move out from the line, so that the next guy knows he’s up. If you just sit there grinding it out, you are indicating that you’re happy to keep on working – and no-one’s under an obligation to help out.
If you are a machine and have the strength to take the wind for miles – then great.
If you aren’t feeling that strong, and can only manage a 20-second turn – also fine. It will be clear to everyone else that you aren’t that strong, and you’ll probably be off the back soon anyway. Just don’t sit on the front and slow down the pace, because someone will have to take the initiative and overtake you. Overtaking requires a jump of pace and is a drain on resources.
I know sportives aren’t races, and perhaps I shouldn’t take them so seriously – but even so it should be obvious after you’ve done your first few events that there’s a better way to ride one.
Anyway thanks for reading – now back to the write-up.
Classy
The vet who blew us out at the feed got a flat shortly afterwards. This karmic reckoning would be repeated twice more, each time somebody quicker overtook our heroic group. Both the other two guys were really classy riders, impressively strong and quick, who finished a good 20 mins quicker than me – even after a flat tyre apiece.
For the second half of the event, our breakaway group was only three, and the pressure of having to power the trio forward every 5 minutes began to take its toll during the last 20km. Thankfully, we caught riders finishing the mid route. When Ben and I had dropped our third man on a climb (I didn’t say you couldn’t do that), we found one of Ben’s teammates, a Useful Big Guy (UBG) who towed us both in to the finish.
If you like climbing – and I do – then The Maratona of the Dolomites is a tailor-made sportive. The 138km full course offers barely any flat sections, so forget about who is or isn’t doing work at the front, forget about getting in a group; it’s about controlling your effort and staying hydrated in the heat. Neither of which I was very successful at on the day.
For mountain scenery, this is the most spectacular sportive I’ve ridden. At every hairpin you get a new panorama of lush valleys and jagged peaks. Especially early in the morning, when shafts of sunlight poke through the gaps in rock towers and light up patches of road – it’s outrageous.
It was nice to have a chance to appreciate the views; this, together with the fact that I wasn’t able to blow my energy reserves too soon, were the only up-sides to the serious congestion at the start of the ride. In all other respects the sheer number of riders starting together (8,640) was frustrating and dangerous. I spent 3 hours riding in a massive cavalcade of slower cyclists, pointlessly jostling for position, wary of errors on the descents.
Very busy roads - but stunning views.
Jonny, Millsy and I started together, but pretty soon it was just Jonny’s wheel I was trying to follow up the crowded slopes of the Passo Pordoi. That Ironman-wingnut Mills had done a triathlon on the Friday before; this was to be a long training ride for him.
The first 7 passes all felt easy, but somehow Theobald got the early jump on me. Suddenly he was nowhere to be seen amid the mass of jerseys. I caught him exiting the Belvedere feed stop at 83km. With the crowds and the views, the day had felt more like a charity ride than a sportive. But by now my legs were buzzing and my head was full of the Giau.
The event is really all about this one climb. As I remember it, I began the ascent in the lead, Jon on my wheel. We had a good tempo, and passed many. The sun was full-on now, and perhaps 30 degrees. I had a problem with my gears which meant the chain wasn’t sitting on my top 26 ring, and kept slipping down one, so I was fiddling with the barrel adjuster with sweating hands whilst climbing. There was complete silence from the mountainside. The gradient was unrelenting, and brutal.
35 minutes into the climb, the invisible elastic tying me to Jonny’s back wheel stretched one last time, and snapped. He had one bike length, then two, then he was beyond the next hairpin, then out of sight. The ascent and the heat was pushing me into a physical and mental state I’d not experienced since riding the Galibier last summer: pins and needles in the face, and a sick feeling in my stomach rising into my throat.
Summiting the climb, I should have stocked up on more food, but instead I reeled past nauseating piles of jam tarts and banana halves, grabbing bizarre things I never normally consume on a ride – like plastic cups of coke. I had one gel and two enervit squares to last me, and somehow I thought it would be enough.
Possibly descending from the Passo Giau to Pocol.
I descended hard, hit the foot of the Passo Falzarego, then bonked. My morale sank too – riders were passing me, Theobald was way up ahead, and I was annoyed with myself for not eating properly. The Falzarego should have been my climb: 10km long, it’s gentler than the Giau, a more gradual ascent that I would normally have powered up. I pulled over into the shade, pissed, consumed everything I had on me, and started climbing again.
The Passo Falzarego has an evil sister: the Valparola. Just after the drinks stop at what you think is the top of the climb, the gradient kicks up for just over a kilometre. Millsy told me later this little feature nearly finished him off; to be honest I can’t really remember how it was for me. I do remember gunning final the descent, though, and passing the finishing banner 18 mins after JT. Final time: 6hrs 39.
Grimacing in the final km's
I’m planning to ride the Maratona again. It’s a great event, flawlessly organised and well supported by the locals. It’s also excellent value for money. Entry is 50-odd euros, but you’re showered with freebies before, during and after the ride.
Finally, if you’re looking for a place to stay, check out these apartments. Drop Norbert Nagler a line and tell him I sent you…
Unfortunately, this is not the triumphal write-up I was mentally preparing the week before the event: my first DNF in a sportive, thanks to a broken spoke on my Campag Neutron Ultra rear wheel at exactly 4 hours into the race. (more…)
My strong performance in last Saturday’s Tour of the Peak District confirmed two important outcomes from my training so far this year:
To ride strongly in a sportive, do a ‘warm-up’ sportive of the same distance 2 weeks before.
Lower back pain can be successfully eradicated through core training over a period of months.
It’s good to crack these things.
On the day my time was 6hrs 08, position 13th out of 148. The final 20 miles were hard, but on the whole I felt easy, strong on the hills, and quicker on the flat. This will be an event to do again in future years, since it’s close to home in Stoke and features the long draggy ascent to the top of Snake Pass from Glossop, which particularly suits me. (more…)
4190m height gain (La Marmotte is 4500-5000m, depending on where you get your figures)
Hardly any flat sections
Temperatures in the mid-upper 20s C
In the first 22km you climb from 1436m to 2239m (top of the Passo Pordoi).
The Passo Pordoi has an average gradient that matches the Col du Glandon (6.9%) – in fact, the start of the Maratona will be like climbing the Glandon, except with a short 4km descent after 10km.
The Pordoi is followed by 3 shorter climbs (and descents) of around 5-6km: the Passo Sella, the Passo Gardena, and the Passo Campolongo – of which the Sella is the steepest.
The big one is the Passo Giau, situated at 97km. It’s 10km long, ave. gradient 9.3% – comparable to L’Alpe d’Huez, but slightly shorter and slightly less steep on average, very similar to Ditchling Beacon, but 5 times as long.
After the Giau, you descend all the way down to Pocol at 1535m, before ascending to the Passo Valparola, an 11.5km ascent at 5.8% ave. gradient (Box Hill’s steepest sections are 6%, but that is only 2.8km)
Following a massive 15km descent, the final 5kms of the ride are gentle uphill.
Evidently, this a climber’s sportive, quite different from most UK sportive routes, which favour the stronger, Classics-style rider. Now that I’ve got a couple of 100 mile sportives under my belt I’m going to have to get back to serious hill reps.
Seriously, I’ve got to do something about my power output. On 3 occasions during the Downland Cycles Spring Sportive on Sunday I was dropped by stronger riders on flat sections of the ride. (more…)
Just at home enjoying a couple of days’ Easter R&R following 2 days in the saddle on Friday and Saturday. I received an email from Sport Communication – those friendly but tech-challenged purveyors of tough French cyclosportives – and have been browsing their newest event:
The Tour du Mont Blanc Cyclo - one epic I won't be riding.
a new challenge for cyclists in search of high passes. To complete this trial, you will have to ride 330 km, cross 7 passes with summits from 1 400 to 2 469 meters and 8 000 unlevel meters. Le Tour Du Mont Blanc® Cyclo, in one stage, allow cyclists to ride the Mythical Géant des Alpes and the most reputed European summits, by crossing 3 different countries (France, Suisse, Italie), and 3 major regions of the Mont Blanc mountains (Savoie, Valais, Val d’Aoste).
SC have listed the following as requirements for entry:
To be awe (sic) the difficulty of the race.
To be a confirmed cyclist with a fine experience of long distances.
To know how manage the difficulties induced by this kind of race such as climatic conditions, altitude as well as the physical or mental problems emanating from prolonged and intense efforts in altitude.
La Marmotte, by comparison with this epic enduro, is 174km, with 5000m of climbing. That, emphatically, was enough. I am in awe of the difficulty of this kind of race; I do know the mental and physical problems of riding them; and for those reasons, I’m out.
There is a limit to sportives, beyond which (for me) their appeal diminishes. I want a challenge, I want some fast, competitive riding, and I want a scenic route. What I’m not so interested in is getting up at 3am to carbo-load, riding for more than 8 hours, vomiting, painful cramps, and the possibility of riding off the edge of a mountain in the dark. Call me a lightweight – but La Marmotte was my personal limit. I’ve no wish to ride it again, and I’ve no wish to out-do that achievement in the future.
Just checking out the route for the Tour of the Peak District in 4 weeks’ time. Stoke-on-Trent is my home town, but I’ve never ridden a road bike out towards the Peaks. I’ve ridden off-road around Edale, Bakewell and Glossop, but when I go home I tend to ride south towards Eccleshall and Telford, partly because of the distances involved, and partly because I just don’t have the right maps. So now’s my chance to do some riding out that way. I think it’s going to be tough – with one long section of A-road in particular that I’m not looking forward to.
As a taster, and on a budget of 50p, the organisers have cobbled together this ludicrous promo video, which surely has no bearing at all on the event itself:
The first sportive of 2010 is in the bag. Eagerly anticipated by 6 of us – me, Jonny, Millsy, Simmo, Duncan and Paul – as a key test of early-season form, the Puncheur lived up to its reputation from last year: a fast, mostly flat route around the South Downs with excellent food and organisation.
It was freezing cold on the start line at 7.45am on Sunday, and it didn’t get much warmer, despite some bright sunshine as the day wore on. It was a ragged start; I got a lot of cold air into my lungs straight away, my heart rate pounding up in the 170s – it felt like my body was under a lot of stress. This feeling of stress never quite left me the whole 70 miles of the course. We were all taking short pulls at the front to begin with but everything felt a bit giddy. Then we hit ice, several big patches. Duncan went down, later joined by Jonny.
The first half of the ride, I just felt strain, so I tucked in behind Jonny and a strong-looking rider in a Cannondale top. After the feed-stop, I felt stronger, and made up for my poor contributions to the pace early on by taking a long stint into the wind. I could feel it coming back, the feeling of lightness, of floating on the effort.
At about the 3-hour mark I started to tie up. We’d hit a modest hill at around 2hrs 30, which had separated myself, Theobald and Cannondale from the others. I knew if I lost those two, I was most likely on my own to the finish, so I did everything I could to cling on, but closing the gaps became too much. Swearing at the wind, I roped myself in to the bottom of Ditchling Beacon, then climbed it without further incident. Final time: 4hrs 06 – 7 mins faster than last year, this time without going wrong.
I’ve done more riding (in pure hours on the bike) than I had this time last year, but notably less high-quality training such as intervals. This is potentially the reason for my lack of any kind of explosive pace. I remember feeling really full of beans last year; this time around, I felt easy on the hills, with reasonable stamina, but not that much power. My leg injury could have played a part. I’m half a stone lighter than last year (10st 10 vs 11st 6) – so that’s maybe a factor. I guess since my goal this season is the Maratona in July, building a base with plenty of hills, without hitting the intervals too early, will hopefully pay off in the end.
A short footnote for Millsy – he had a shocker. Training to within an inch of his life, he had to do a long run and a ride the day before, then flatted at the start of the sportive. His grim-faced expression in the photos tell the full story.
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