Three Peaks Cyclocross Report

Ted, you weren't far behind me, I think I gave most (well there weren't many) of the riders coming up P-Y-G a shout as I came down. If so I was the idiot that thought white shorts were a plan...

Not sure my report will match that but here goes!

I've done the peaks 3 times before and finished twice. In between I packed up cycling and most sport for a few years and moved to London and only really began training 18 months ago. This year I've ridden lots, but much of it is my commute (out to Hatfield) and from there to my g/f's in Stevenage, rideen a few tt's and the occassional track league, I've also done lots of running. You may notice that omitted from that list are the terms "regular off road riding" and "lots of long rides". I'll be honest, if I go back next year both of those might just figure!

My plan had been to drive up saturday but last week I changed my mind, drive up Sunday morning from Stevenage, leaving at 4 in the morning is clearly a much better plan. I figure that this will be better for eating on the way and probably more sleep than I'd get in a tent or the bunkhouse! Saturday involves coming in to London and picking up the hire car and some stuff from home (nothing important, just helmet etc), getting a hire car and buying some gels and energy bars. Sensibly I buy energy bars that are reduced rather than the ones I usually eat... Thankfully Jess my (not so) long suffering girlfriend had convinced me that my initial plan of coming in to London early enough to do the Park Run is frankly ridiculous. She was right and I should listen to her more often. Get in to london, realise my house keys are in Stevenage, thankfully my flatmate is home. Then because I enjoyed the stress of that particular panic so much I leave Jess' keys in London as we head back to Stevenage. To break the boredom of this drive, I start at least 2 domestics, one on nothing more trivial than the radio channel we were listening to. At this point I concede that I am nervous! Get back to stevenage and thankfully lack of keys is for a second time not a problem. Fit the landcruisers, throw a tantrum as it proves very slightly difficult to change the front one and declare I'm not riding. Am told by Jess that "yes you fucking well are" and decide that as a DNS appears to mean that I'll also be single she maybe has a point and put all my toys back in the pram! Sort food and kit out, in bed by 10. Sorted.

Sunday 3.30 and the alarm goes off. I turn it off rather than snooze but thankfully only sleep for another 25 minutes. Load car and set off. I don't like driving but there is an undeniable buzz from almost deserted motorways. Despite being ahead of schedule, I stress all the way there that I will miss sign on and fail to eat anything other than a couple of nutrigrain bars. The cornflakes and milk (inspired by Me O'bree) remain untouched as I decide that I am clearly rtunning way to late for a 10 minute stop... Annoy Jess by becoming increasingly hyper as I get closer, but the star she is she just puts up with me.

Arrive at 8, sign on and all is well with the world. Then it starts to rain. Just once can I do this race in good weather please! Line up at the back in the 5-5 1/2hour grid having been amused by the fat blokes shouldering there way in to the front of the grid... Road section is ace, very relaxed at the back, move up a bit and can see the 600 rider bunch string out, catch the back of this bunch as soon as we turn off road and hit the bottle neck. There are probably 50 or so riders behind me, so I feel quite good knowing that. The ascent of Ingleborough is ace, I pick off some more places and feel pretty good. It is also incredibly tough. At one point I knock a woman over, she appears to take it well but subsequently recatches me and I get a wheel in the face so maybe she didn't! The top of Ingleborogh is horrible, cold, in the cloud and windy. Just like every other year. Like most of the riders around me, I figure that nominal vision on a mountain top makes running the start of the descent a better bet but a bit further down I start to ride as it's clearing aless technical. This part of the course is quite grassy, well apart from the bit where I topple over onto rocks. My hip doesn't like this. It's around this time that I decide that my brakes are shit. Totally and utterly shit as the new pads I'd fitted appear to have the consistancy of cheese. I suspect that this will become more of a problem later on! Undeniable highlight of the descent was coming out of the cloud and seeing the view - beautiful, particularly after an hour in the cloud.

On to the road, and I feel excellent passing around a dozen riders, stop at the feed for some water and decide to have an energy bar, discover that they are disgusting to the point of inedible. I suspect that this too will become a problem later on. I remember precious little of the ascent to Whernside, it wasn't overly grim except for hitting the back of my calf with my pedal, the throbbing does not stop for the rest of the race and clipping in and out ultimately becames a huge problem. I've realised by now that the more ambitious times I'd dreamed of are truly unascertainable and that getting round and enjoying it are the main thing. And then someone mentions the time cut. No one seems to know when it is except someone that helpfully states that as long as we are decent descenders we'll be well inside it. From memory I assume it will be 3 1/2 hours. I'm not a decent descender

The descent of Whernside is horrendous, I am passed by numerous riders. I also stop briefly to help the fallen rider mentioned in Big Ted's report. She has done her ankle in but is surprisingly upbeat. A few of us wait until some walkers arrive and take over prior to mountain rescue arriving, she refuses offers of food or water and tells us she has marmite sandwiches and will be fine. Despite hating Marmite I consider suggesting a swap for inedible energy bars but decide I should carry on. I run much of the descent, I tried riding but gripping my brakes has actually made my fingers bleed... Once it levels out then I ride and am going well, hit the road section alone and realise the time cut is close. Head down all the way to P-Y-G, I'm hurting but catch 2 riders and we get a good group going. Make the cut off, then discover the cut off was 4 hours and I should have asked the 2 riders I caught as they knew this and the 20 minutes I've just buried myself was actually pretty pointless... I'm aware that physically I feel totally fucked. Take on my last 2 gels and start to spin my 29*26 bottom gear up the lower levels. Pretty soon that is too much and I'm reduced to walking. Well walking a few paces and stopping. I'm not even on the steep bit yet and preying for those 2 gels to kick in which they do and I'm back riding. But now having real problems clipping in. This is hell. About 2/3rds up I meet jess coming down as she has spent the morning walking. Stop for a few minutes, dump my gillet and arm warmers with her, take on some water and I'm off again and felling much better, also helped by shouts of encouragement from many of the backmarkers I've been around all day who are now coming down. make the top and start the descent, can't clip in and brakes are gone and my hands are cramping as well as bleeding from attempting to get them working! So once again I walk/run much of it. Make it to the bottom in one piece, totally fucked and head down for those last few miles. So fucked I pretty muchfail to spot Jess encouraghing me at the roadside and finish wih 5hours 51 minutes on the clock.

Journey home continued the theme of things going wrong, lost in leeds, stopping in Otley for food and discovering no pubs server food on an evening (wtf?), having to give up driving home and sleep in the car...

It was hellish, and the time much slower than I planned but I know I lost something crazy like 25 minutes on P-Y-G alone. I plan on being back next year. The running really helped on the ascents (not that I ran) and I've got 3 1/2 marathons booked in for the next few months alone so that has to help. As would decent brake blocks. Anyone fancy a roadtrip to help at the Bradford National Trophy for a guaranteed start?