With plenty of runners from Team Derby Runner heading to the event there was no shortage of car pooling options, but I opted for the 'It's only 20 miles away, I'll cycle there and back'. A quick bike and kit check the night before and I was all set to cycle from Belper to Burton on a combination of roads and canal tow paths. I had given my self 1 hour 45 minutes allowing for extra faffing, getting lost, getting changed at the venue and general pre race mooching about and catching up with other runners.
I set off around 0915 and the nightly frost was still everywhere, and the temperature was holding at a 1 degree centigrade. Even in full finger neoprene gloves my finger tips were pretty painful and cold but I just got on with it. It had been a few months since I had last been out on my bike so it felt great to be back in the saddle and racing along. The first 20 kilometres were all on the road, but when the route took me onto the tow path of the Trent Mersey canal, things got a little more dicey,
I was Expectations of a compacted trail or a tarmac path alongside the canal were soon dashed, it was just grass, frozen puddles and mud. Oh. Luckily I ride a cross country bike, so it's just as happy off road as on road, also it was beautiful. The low lying fog was still hovering, ducks and swans were gliding on the water, the grass and a frosty white bite all around. So I happily dropped a few gears and slogged through the frozen clumps of grass and shattered the layers of ice on the puddles. By now my hands had nicely warmed up, but my feet were getting colder due to the exposure and the moisture being kicked up from the grass.
The tow path was really slow and cumbersome, I was becoming aware that I was falling way behind on my estimated time of arrival, so I climbed up the embankment and joined the road. After a few stops to check GoogleMaps I was almost on site. Thanks to a few large signs and other later runners rushing to the start line it was easy to find the event village. The usual running club flags and tents had been pitched and I quickly found the Team Derby Runner tent and started my change from cycling kit to running. Then I heard race director shout:
"GO!"
I turned to see a few hundred runners set off. BOLLOCKS! Fuck it. I've made the effort to get here I'm running this course even if I have to start late and come last. I finally got my running shoes on, dumped my outer layers and threw on my team vest over my cycling jersey and headed for the start line.
The marshals at the starting area where highly amused and supportive of my late start and encouraged me to catch up with the tail runners. I ran on my own for at least 1.5 kilometres before sighting the tail runners, no sooner had I caught up with them I hit a queue for a tight corner with deep mud. The rest was welcomed and when the course widened out I could open up my legs again and start gaining some places. It was fun chasing down so many other runners, and overtaking was easy as the course was mainly on open grassland and a small woodland section.
After about 4 kilometres the course had a pretty big hill which destroyed my legs and forced me to walk most of it. This hill killed my pace and I was now really struggling to continue working my way through the other runners. About 5 minutes later there was a monster hill on the course. I tried to run up it but that was just daft. It was hard enough to try and walk up. It took my legs a while to recover at the top of the hill.
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The final 3 kilometres of the course were pretty flat and I managed to get back up to a reasonable pace, but the bike ride and hills had really taken it out of my legs. Once back at the bottle neck I got a rest as we queued for the style. Once over the style I knew it was about a mile to the finish and a pretty fast descent too. So I put the hammer down and went as fast as I could. It wasn't that fast. But it was fun. The marshals near the start / finish were complimentary of my efforts, and very funny too. The final romp downhill was a blast and my jelly legs had no choice but to bumble down the hill at full pace and hope that my legs have been paying attention to all the videos and writings of Killian Jornet. I made it safely to the finish and headed back to the team tent and was mercilessly ribbed, laughed at and generally insulted for being such a Muppet. It was what I deserved it is was all in great humour.
My pack-up consisted of three apples which where instantly inhaled and washed down with icy water from my water bottle. I usually have a hoody and big coat to put on after a race, but all I had was my damp sweaty wind breaker and beanie today. the dry socks were a great comfort as I slowly changed back in to cycling gear. Our team captain took pity on me and offered a ride back in the van, but if I wanted an easy day I would have car pooling in the first place, so I sadly declined the offer.
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I decided on national cycle paths and roads for the journey back, and although cycling alongside the busy and noisy A38 isn't as idyllic as frosty canals, it was going to be quicker and easier. It was all going pretty well on the ride how until I reached Derby city centre. As I rode down St' Peter's Street (Yes, I know I should have gotten off and pushed) The smell of McDonalds hit my nose. I hate McDonalds but I was just so hungry! I didn't stop and eat, but for the final 7 mile ride home all I could think about was dirty, greasy, lard filled, junk food. It was a nightmare. I was so distracted by hunger and food, a mountain biker overtook me on a uphill!
Not today buddy! I might not be a skinny lycra clad whippet, on a full road bike, but surly my dropped handle bars and rigid setup is faster on the roads than your full suspension rig and fat tyres! I pushed hard but he just kept pulling away. I was burning everything I had to keep up with this out-of-place, two wheeled, cushioned, trick bike. Ironically I gained on the fat tired tribesman on the downhill, so I planned my attack for last downhill between here and home. So I raced hard up the final hill and was about 10 metres behind, and as I crested the hill, I got out of my saddle and cranked hard to build up momentum. I dropped back in to the saddle just before I over took. A cheery and wheeze-free "afternoon" from me as I cruised past, I gave it a few metres before resuming my Darth Vader breathing and swearing at my crying thighs. I had roughly 3 kilometres to maintain this narrow lead before I could relax and stop at my house. This really hurt I was so tired, and shouldn't make these races up in my head. The mountain biker was probably just having a nice ride out, and here I am thinking we are competing for the maillot jaune! I survived the 3km and pulled off the main road and watched my knobbly tired nemesis cruise on with his journey.
What a day, some great riding and running, but now was time for shower and FOOD!
Thanks to
Derwent runners and SL Images for the images and The Derby Runner League for such a great event.
I set off around 0915 and the nightly frost was still everywhere, and the temperature was holding at a 1 degree centigrade. Even in full finger neoprene gloves my finger tips were pretty painful and cold but I just got on with it. It had been a few months since I had last been out on my bike so it felt great to be back in the saddle and racing along. The first 20 kilometres were all on the road, but when the route took me onto the tow path of the Trent Mersey canal, things got a little more dicey,
I was Expectations of a compacted trail or a tarmac path alongside the canal were soon dashed, it was just grass, frozen puddles and mud. Oh. Luckily I ride a cross country bike, so it's just as happy off road as on road, also it was beautiful. The low lying fog was still hovering, ducks and swans were gliding on the water, the grass and a frosty white bite all around. So I happily dropped a few gears and slogged through the frozen clumps of grass and shattered the layers of ice on the puddles. By now my hands had nicely warmed up, but my feet were getting colder due to the exposure and the moisture being kicked up from the grass.
 |
| It's lonely at the back |
"GO!"
I turned to see a few hundred runners set off. BOLLOCKS! Fuck it. I've made the effort to get here I'm running this course even if I have to start late and come last. I finally got my running shoes on, dumped my outer layers and threw on my team vest over my cycling jersey and headed for the start line.
The marshals at the starting area where highly amused and supportive of my late start and encouraged me to catch up with the tail runners. I ran on my own for at least 1.5 kilometres before sighting the tail runners, no sooner had I caught up with them I hit a queue for a tight corner with deep mud. The rest was welcomed and when the course widened out I could open up my legs again and start gaining some places. It was fun chasing down so many other runners, and overtaking was easy as the course was mainly on open grassland and a small woodland section.
After about 4 kilometres the course had a pretty big hill which destroyed my legs and forced me to walk most of it. This hill killed my pace and I was now really struggling to continue working my way through the other runners. About 5 minutes later there was a monster hill on the course. I tried to run up it but that was just daft. It was hard enough to try and walk up. It took my legs a while to recover at the top of the hill.
-
-
 |
| Yup running in cycle gear isn't great! |
My pack-up consisted of three apples which where instantly inhaled and washed down with icy water from my water bottle. I usually have a hoody and big coat to put on after a race, but all I had was my damp sweaty wind breaker and beanie today. the dry socks were a great comfort as I slowly changed back in to cycling gear. Our team captain took pity on me and offered a ride back in the van, but if I wanted an easy day I would have car pooling in the first place, so I sadly declined the offer.
-
-
I decided on national cycle paths and roads for the journey back, and although cycling alongside the busy and noisy A38 isn't as idyllic as frosty canals, it was going to be quicker and easier. It was all going pretty well on the ride how until I reached Derby city centre. As I rode down St' Peter's Street (Yes, I know I should have gotten off and pushed) The smell of McDonalds hit my nose. I hate McDonalds but I was just so hungry! I didn't stop and eat, but for the final 7 mile ride home all I could think about was dirty, greasy, lard filled, junk food. It was a nightmare. I was so distracted by hunger and food, a mountain biker overtook me on a uphill!
Not today buddy! I might not be a skinny lycra clad whippet, on a full road bike, but surly my dropped handle bars and rigid setup is faster on the roads than your full suspension rig and fat tyres! I pushed hard but he just kept pulling away. I was burning everything I had to keep up with this out-of-place, two wheeled, cushioned, trick bike. Ironically I gained on the fat tired tribesman on the downhill, so I planned my attack for last downhill between here and home. So I raced hard up the final hill and was about 10 metres behind, and as I crested the hill, I got out of my saddle and cranked hard to build up momentum. I dropped back in to the saddle just before I over took. A cheery and wheeze-free "afternoon" from me as I cruised past, I gave it a few metres before resuming my Darth Vader breathing and swearing at my crying thighs. I had roughly 3 kilometres to maintain this narrow lead before I could relax and stop at my house. This really hurt I was so tired, and shouldn't make these races up in my head. The mountain biker was probably just having a nice ride out, and here I am thinking we are competing for the maillot jaune! I survived the 3km and pulled off the main road and watched my knobbly tired nemesis cruise on with his journey.
What a day, some great riding and running, but now was time for shower and FOOD!
Thanks to
Derwent runners and SL Images for the images and The Derby Runner League for such a great event.
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