Racing Hard at the LRB Bookshop

It was one of those little coincidences that make you believe the world can be a neater place than it really is. Yesterday I was in London and, as usual, visited the LRB Bookshop, where I saw there was going to be an event that evening. William Fotheringham would be in conversation with Richard Moore about his new book ‘Racing Hard’, which was the very book I had in my bag and was half way through. How could I not go?

For those who don’t know, William Fotheringham has been the cycling correspondent of the Guardian for the past 20 years and the book is a collection of his articles, with additional commentaries to put them into context. The shift of perspective of knowing what we know now and seeing how it was reported at the time is always interesting and for cycling probably more so than any other sport.

Initially I had been reluctant to buy the book as I knew I would have read most of the pieces when they were first published. Even if I could not longer remember the details, I argued, I knew the bones and the general take. But I should not have worried because as I began reading the book proved to me yet again that I can never underestimate my capacity to forget. I lost count of the times I was grateful to be reminded of things I thought had been quite well embedded. Aside from that, reading pieces side by side gave them a continuity that helped certain themes emerge more clearly. For example the development of the British Cycling programme, the application of science to performance, building professional and supportive structures and the development of talent, is the subject of a number of the best essays. They often seem to have been written with more enthusiasm and enjoyment, whilst some of the pieces on the Tour de France (where to be fair there is more of a pressure to get something out) were a little more guarded.

Nevertheless the big story of cycling as sport is always the Tour de France and it is a large part of the book and a large part of the evening was spent talking about it. Nothing wrong with that and I would have been disappointed if it was not the case. I never tire of listening to stories about the race, learning a little more about some of the characters, and hearing about the direct experience of being there. Aside from the theatre of a great sporting event one of the more interesting questions though was about something completely different: the shift of cycling from a working class to a middle class activity/sport.

Once you start thinking about this topic there are so many threads to unpick. At the activity level there is the development of cycle chic, to the number of people in the City using Boris bikes,  the expense and stylishness of equipment so that bikes become objects of desire, and the fact that, proportionately more middle class people take up exercise for health reasons. It would be interesting to back this up with knowledge of how the social make-up of grass-roots clubs has changed and how that relates to the use of bikes for transport. Perhaps i will have to see what I can find out. But there is other evidence of our changing attitudes, not the least being the fact that there was a literary event hosted by the LRB Bookshop.

At the sport level the background of new riders will be interesting to watch. It will be influenced, like other sports, by general social trends. The lessening in the amount of unstructured outdoors play and keeping kids in a physically undemanding school environment until they are older has to be compensated for by formal coaching and training. Organisations are moving towards being top down rather than relying on a talent bubbling up from local clubs. It is hard to find so many people physically hardened through manual labour as well as sport and the days of whistling down the pits to find the next Yorkshire fast bowler are long gone. Work and childhood have changed. Now it is middle class children who have  access to best facilities combined with an incentive as a career in sport is now seen as desirable across all classes. That is not saying sport has gone totally middle class just that the distribution has shifted.

Different sports have different profiles and traditionally cycling has been more working class than most but I think the success of British Cycling and Team Sky represents something outside of that, outside of class. It is the triumph of managerialism (or professionalism if you think that sounds better). It is about structure and goals, made possible by state funding and totally distinct from the pre-existing culture. Traditional assumptions have been questioned and many thrown out, coaches have been recruited from outside sports and athletes with the right physical and mental attributes, whether or not that had previously done much cycling, have been actively scouted. It is rather like a greenfield development compared to the brownfield site of traditional continental teams. 

All in all it was a stimulating evening and I was very glad I went to that bookshop on that day to find everything perfectly aligned.

The Mystery of Motion

One of the reasons for writing this blog was to try to make sense of the mysterious way running, a simple, repetitive activity, can be both immensely satisfying and mentally stimulating. Sometimes I still thinks it might be a dull grind (usually just before I leave the house on a mucky day) but experience has taught me otherwise. I know it is not true and running can make you feel more alive. But I don’t fully understand why and I don’t think I ever will. The best I can hope for is to be able accumulate fragments of evidence puzzle over the fact that even the simplest human movement can be a thing of wonder.  I was reminded of this in a startling way by an article in the Observer. It might not be about running but it is about the mystery of movement and the complexity of the interaction with the brain.  Anyway cycling is also a topic for this blog so it is right that I share it.

Apparently the video of the man with advanced Parkinson’s riding a bike has been around for 2 years (when a paper was published in the New England Journal of Medicine) but I knew nothing of it until now and so the surprise was complete. The only reaction is “Wow!”, “How can this be?”, “This isn’t right.” “It’ impossible!”. I was stupefied as I just could not compute what I was seeing and I still have no idea about how it is possible.

Riding is a learnt skill (obviously as nothing in our evolutionary history could have prepared us for a bike). It is therefore remarkable that this acquired ability can be embedded deeply enough to survive whilst the hard-wired capability of walking is attacked by the Parkinson’s disease. The suggestion that the pedals coming round act as a constant unconscious reminder of what to do is an ingenious idea but it is just a guess and anyway what happens if you freewheel? The other explanation that our base skills (like walking or running) have different neurological pathways to acquired skills and can be selectively targeted by the disease, seems to need a host of complicated proofs before it can become a solid hypothesis. We really have no idea about how and why.

I am both baffled and in awe. It has left me even more convinced of two things: the first is how unfathomable we all are as animals and the second is what a wonderful invention the bicycle is.

The Meaning of Sport

Source: BBC

Saturday was probably the most exciting day of sport I can remember. Although the night, with its three GB athletics gold medal was uplifting and extraordinary in its own right it was only the culmination of a day of highs (mostly highs) and lows.

In the velodrome there had been the sight of the GB women's pursuit team, perfectly drilled riding for one another for their sixth consecutive world record. Such a relentless power applied with an economy of effort where only the legs seemed to be moving, was a wonder to watch. Afterwards at the medal ceremony the stadium was filled with noise as the whole crowd, led by Paul McCartney sang Hey Jude. It could have been a little bit cheesy but it wasn't. It was joyous. Community, celebration, connection between crowd and performer - everything was there.

Also there was a moment that showed something of the person within an athlete. Jo Rowsell took off her helmet to reveal a mostly bald head with a couple of tufts of hair. From the age of 10 she has suffered from alopecia and has had to grow into womanhood without one of the great signifiers of beauty (and to see what an important signifier hair is you only have to look  at the lustrous lock in any shampoo advert). It must have been  difficult but according to this article  cycling has helped build her confidence.  Wonderful - but it still takes a deal of courage to show the whole world your bald head and I am sure every alopecia sufferer will walk a little bit taller after having seen it.

That would have been enough for a normal day but there was much more. On the water there were two greatly contrasting rowing moments. One was an expression of joy and disbelief on the face of Katherine Copeland after she and Sophie Hosking had won their race. Wide eyed and opened mouthed she looked as if she could not believe it but in her expression she showed all the tumultuous emotion of sporting triumph and the reason people put themselves through so much. The other moment was the obverse - the pain of defeat.  Mark Hunter and Zac Purchase battled with the Danish crew and lost by the slimmest of margins to win silver rather than gold. They were so exhausted afterwards that they had almost to be lifted out of the boat and to give an interview to TV they had to prop each other up. They were distraught and the only thing they could think of saying was to apologise to everybody for letting them down. They had let nobody down. They had been heroic but because they did not meet their own target they felt the burden of the whole team upon their shoulders. (read Zac Purchase's account here).The interview went no further there was nothing anybody could say as everybody was moved and Steve Redgrave gently helped them away to a place of privacy where they could recover. If you ever wanted to see how people can invest every fibre of their being in a quest and what that means at the end, you only have to watch that clip. 

And so onto the evening in the athletics stadium where there was nothing but joy. Obviously winning three gold medals in one night is something that the GB team never do. It is impossible but somehow it happened. Not only that it happened to the people you would want. Greg Rutherford, the slightly surprising winner of the long jump has had to endure many ups and downs, injuries and a failure at Beijing that made him feel like giving up, so to eventually come out on top is one of those stories you want to happen. Nothing more can be said about Jessica Ennis and the gracious, sunny way she has born the burden of being the face of the games and the top medal hope. As for Mo Farah - well I just shared the joy and excitement of the BBC commentators.

But later there was something just as significant. At the press conference some numpty journalist asked whether he would have preferred to represent Somali rather than GB Mo Farah replied  "Look mate, this is my country. This is where I grew up, this is where I started life. This is my country and when I put on my Great Britain vest I'm proud. I'm very proud...To win the Olympics in the place you grew up and went to school just means so much to me."

Stick that in your pipe all those miserable people who complained about the multiculturalism of the opening ceremony. This is who we now are: a nation of many peoples and it is great that through the Olympics we have come together to celebrate it

If only more people cycled

Recently there was a romantic piece in the Independent by Rob Penn on the joys of cycling. It concluded with a paragraph that sums up the reason why so many of us spend so much time on the roads cycling or running, on the hillsides walking or scrambling:

If you've ever experienced a moment of awe or freedom on a bicycle; if you've ever taken flight from sadness to the rhythm of two spinning wheels, or felt the resurgence of hope pedalling to the top of a hill with the dew of effort on your forehead; if you've ever wondered, swooping bird-like down a long hill on a bicycle, if the world was standing still; if you have ever, just once, sat on a bicycle with a singing heart and felt like an ordinary man touching the gods, then you share something fundamental with Bradley Wiggins, and you have reason to cheer him down the Champs-Elysées tomorrow.

It is a wonderful expression of how all of our individual efforts are connected.

But wait - scroll further down the comments column and there is antipathy and fear. It is amazing how many people have a visceral hatred of cycling because of boorish people who ignore the rules of the road and assume they can maintain a high speed in cities by relying on everyone else to get put of the way. I hate those people myself and can be as angry as anyone when jumping back to avoid a cyclist who will not stop for the lights. That is not cycling - it is selfish inconsiderate behaviour,  which happens in almost any form of human endeavour. But the images are so strong it is all some people think of when they think of cyclists.

The loathing must be countered because there is a growing momentum behind the idea that if more people use the bike for transport the health of the nation will be hugely improved. But for that to happen the infrastructure needs to be improved and that  means money and, for the first time in living memory, not putting the car first. In other words a radical step that requires at least the tacit support of a majority of people, so people who don't cycle themselves need to be persuaded that such measures are for the general good. Not easy, especially when you look at the reaction to some of the Olympic traffic lanes and proper, separated cycle lane would have the same effect. It can be done though as Holland and Denmark have proved but our culture is slightly different and we have a vociferous 'Top Gear' faction that makes such change difficult. 

Changing hearts and minds is always long and difficult but if it happens and more people cycle the idiots, the lycra louts,  seem less representative and the roads will also be safer. More people will feel the sense of exhilaration described by Rob Penn and fewer people will die prematurely through the diseases of sedentary living. 

It is an argument worth making.

Sport can mean something

Source: Associated Press

Even with the Olympics still to come and a number of other great sports stories that have already happened (who, for example, would ever have believed that a long-term journeyman tennis player, barely able to scratch a living, would, as a wildcard entry, win the Wimbledon doubles title?) I already know what sporting achievement will give me most delight in 2012. It happened yesterday when David Millar won Stage 12 of the Tour de France.

The stage itself was the least of it - a long breakaway, with a small group managing to stay away right to the end is worth cheering but is not in itself enough; such breaks are regularly attempted and each year one or two succeed. Even though David Millar initiated the move and demonstrated his skill at road racing, that is still makes it no more than a very good win,  not a great sporting moment. No those happen when some part of the story of the day transcend the mechanics of the event to make the victory mean more than a win. In this case, in Annonay Davézieux, it represented redemption.

Even though most people are now aware of the David Millar story it is worth repeating. He started in the sport when the organisation of British cycling was an amateurish shambles and so as a young man he did what all ambitious cyclists had to do: leave for Europe to find a team to learn what professional road racing really was. At that time being professional also meant taking drugs. Although he started off both innocent about their use and against them in principal, he was eventually worn down. He succumbed with an attitude (or internal justification) of “well it just has to be done” and “it is my duty to the team”. It gave him no satisfaction but he thought it was his job and so it was until he was caught, arrested and tried. Publicly humiliated, cast adrift by his team and the sport, he seemed at the time another sad story of someone with great talent destroyed by the dark side of his sport. For most athletes who have been convicted of drug use that is all there is - the end, a simple case of rise and fall. But that is not where it ended for him.

Firstly took full responsibility. He did not hide behind denials, he did not try to claim he knew nothing and it was an inadvertent mistake or other peoples fault. He did not say he was forced into it, he fully admitted what he had done. It was as if he wanted to find once more the integrity he had locked away, and be able to look people in the eye.

He was also aided by friends who would stand by him and nurse him back to mental health on the roads of Britain. Through that he was able to rediscover just how much he loved the sport and it is this love that is at the crux of his recovery. It gave him purpose and a cause: to prove top level cycling could be done clean. After serving his ban he not only pieced together his career he became an advocate. At the time there was a lot of scepticism and an awful lot of people were very absolute in their attitudes, believing that a doper is always a doper and so should always be a pariah. But he faced them head on and never shied away from the issues and in the end his love of the sport earned respect.

That in itself that is redemption enough but somehow a win in the Tour de France 9 years after his last stage win (when he was drugged)  ties everything together and presents it in one glorious moment. He was once lost but he found his way and his exultation in punching the air as he crossed the line spoke more than words.

To me that is what sport is all about: not only the struggle to be your best and define yourself but also the chance to recover and try again if things go wrong or you take a wrong turn. There is always hope,  the hope, that this time things will work out. There maybe stark outlines in that there are clear winners and losers but the metaphors and lessons can be taken into our, messier, everyday lives. Examples of endurance and will show what we ourselves can achieve in our own, less exalted context. And redemption...We all need stories of redemption. We need to know that nothing is totally lost and that even if things look bleak there is always the chance we can find ourselves again.

Juneathon Day 13 - A heron and an airship

Juneathon Day 13 - A heron and an airship

Cycle - 16 miles, Time - 1hr 14min, Weather - some blue sky and clouds

My normal practise in Juneathon is to post a photo taken on the day but today is different. I needed a picture of a heron the latest one I have is this from a month ago. Nevermind, it will have to do.

On a single-track, country lane, around a bend I saw a heron standing in the middle of the road. As I approached he flew off a few yards further down the road and again stood in the middle. I slowed down and with as little movement as possible approached to see how close I could get. Close but not very close, then he flew away again and the game was repeated. After 3 or 4 goes he flew away over the fields but it left me with a smile.  Already this was a good ride and it showed the difference between what I do and training: I am happy with gentle diversions and am paying no heed to the clock.

After the heron there was another lull as I watched a proper airship moving slowly across the sky. I looked lovely, floating, almost still. Aeroplanes may rule the sky but they do not have the visual splendour of a blimp, gently moving at its own slow pace. They are also a reminder of a time, in the 1920s and 30s, when airships were seen as a vehicle for lang haul flights. The R101 was designed to link the distant parts of the Empire, such as India and Australia, and was huge. If you are ever travelling south of Bedford you will see the two Cardington airship hangers built to house the R101, loom up out of the flat landscape (a sense of their scale can by looking at the satellite view on Google Maps and compare the size of the village to the two hangers in the south west corner). For metal sheds they are awe inspiring.

There is a link between the two sightings: one of the reasons I find heron fascinating is that their gaunt shape makes it very easy to see how birds evolved out of dinosaurs, as for airships I think of them as mechanical dinosaurs of the sky.

Janathon 2012 Day 30: A bit chilly

Janathon 2012 Day 30: Cycle - 10 miles, Time 50min, Weather - cold

I didn’t really fancy this today. Not only was the temperature was little above freezing, I felt extremely lethargic. It would have been very easy to can everything and stay in the warm but if I had done so I would have felt defeated  - and that is not at all a good feeling.

But even after I started there were temptations to abandon. I had only gone a few yards before noticing my headset was loose and needed adjustment. Back in the garage it would have been very easy to say “well that’s it! the omens are in opposition.” But we are made of sterner stuff than that. All that was needed was a quick internal debate as to what would count as the minimum distance and an agreement to do just that, at no great pace. For some reason I decided on 7 miles but ended up with 10.

When I returned cheeks were red, ears were cold and my nose was runny - in other words the normal results of exercising on a winter day.

2011 Streak Day 278 (Saturday Oct 8th): A good morning

2011 Streak Day 278 (Saturday Oct 8^th):Cycle 12.97 miles. Time 57min Weather mostly overcast 

After showing some bagged up leaves I thought I ought to balance the picture by showing that it is not all neat and tidy round here.

Otherwise all that I want to say is that this comes very close to being a perfect Saturday morning. Out on the bike for a short ride, which included a hill long enough to give me the satisfaction of having worked a bit, then to a coffee shop for a flat white and to read the Guardian. The ride sharpens the mind and I read the paper with a relaxed concentration. It felt good.

This is the great advantage cycling has over running: you can dress normally and manage your pace so that you don't become a sweaty heap. This means that in the cafe you can feel perfectly at home. If I was running I would be in shorts and a T shirt soaked with sweat and if I stopped for any length of time I would soon get cold. It would not be pleasant.

The other thing that amused me today was riding up the hill. (That is not a sentence I have ever used before!) At the same time there was a post van delivering mail to the houses  so we played box and cox. I passed him when he was delivering , he passed me when driving. It was like being in an episode of Postman Pat.

P.S. It would have been much closer to being a perfect morning if the English rugby team had not been so inept and lost to a poor French team in the World Cup. Ho Hum!

2011 Streak Day 277 (Friday Oct 7th): Noticing wind

2011 Streak Day 277 (Friday Oct 7^th): Cycle 16. 42 miles, Time 1hr 12min, Weather overcast with wind

My picture today should be of Homebase, as that was my destination, but tin retail sheds are rather boring and I just could not be bothered.  Strange then that I find plastic bags full of leaves more interesting. I have no real explanation except that for some reason they amused me and set me wondering how many plastic bags you would need to contain all the fallen leaves in Hemel. There is no answer apart from 'lots'. But it leads on to the more interesting question about how much effort is put into tidying up leaves - something else I don't know.

it was an enjoyable ride today that also illustrated the great truth about the cyclists attitude to wind (i.e. we only notice it when it is against us). When I started out I was really impressed with my form. "Wow!" I thought "I can't be such bad shape after all. This is nice and easy." As I bowled along I was impressed when I looked at the speedo to find I was going faster than expected. What a good day!

Well it was until I turned round to find the wind made the return journey far harder.

Conclusion: I am exactly as fit as I thought I was.

2011 Streak Day 273 (Mon Oct 3rd): Wasp sting

2011 Streak Day 273 (Mon Oct 3^rd): Cycle 23.79 miles, Time 1hr 42min, Weather still sitting out weather

This picture shows my failed attempt at wildlife photography. I wanted a picture of a wasp and in my experience as soon as you try to eat out in summer wasps will gather, attracted to anything sweet. I therefore put some jam on some paper on a table and waited. At last a wasp came and flew nearby but paid no attention to the bait, didn't register it at all. It flew off and after that there was nothing. My attempt at a wasp photo was a complete dud. 

Perhaps I used the wrong jam.

I wanted the picture to illustrate the way ran otherwise perfectly pleasant day was ruined. It  had been perfect cycling weather: calm and warm but not overly hot. I rode to Ashridge, where I had a cup of tea and watched all the other people enjoying the autumn weather and felt contented. On the way back though, when I was moving at a decent speed, I rode into a wasp. It hit my lip and I could feel its size and furriness before sharpness of the sting. Damn! I stopped and tried to bite down on it and suck the sting out but it was no good. The lip started to swell.

It may seem strange to say for someone of my advanced years but I can't ever remember being stung by a wasp (bees yes but wasps no). However my mother was allergic to them and now, after all these years, I have finally learnt that I am too.

I developed a lip of comic proportions and ruefully thought that there are dangers in cycling that are not mentioned in any of the manuals.

2011 Streak Day 259 (Monday Sept 19th): Getting ready for Potter

2011 Streak Day 259 (Monday Sept 19^th): Cycling - 23 miles, Time - 1hr 41min, Weather - blue skies

Turning over a new leaf means cycling to Watford. 

I wanted to buy something from the shops, so rather than taking the car I used my bike and felt good doing so.  For the first time for ages I felt air rushing past my cheeks, a sense of speed above ambling, and a feeling of connection with the outside world.

On my way I passed Leavesden Studios where they are building the Harry Potter Experience. There is still a lot of work to do and the landscape around the studio buildings looks rather bleak. In the meantime there is the attraction of a lonely digger toiling away.

I don't understanding the attraction of a studio experiences (the film is the thing, not the box it was made in). Trying to recreate some of the atmosphere of the film is a bit like those museums where they dress up in period costume and talk in cod olde English - it feels false. But there again I am a grumpy old man and not the target audience.

I can even imagine that my grumpiness will increase in March (when it opens) as I might need a new route. This road, which at the moment is pleasantly quite, will be full of wizards.

But I must not get worried by the anticipation of some future mild inconvenience (that would be truly pathetic). I must enjoy being in the open air and the sensation of movement.

All I have is this particular moment

2011 Streak Day 204/365 (July 23): Twiddle

2011 Streak Day 204/365 (July 23): Cycle - 19.38 miles, Time - 1hr 27min, Weather - blue skies with many clouds

This  has been a pretty miserable July, most days have had overcast skies and there has been plenty of rain. Overnight it rained again and when I woke up I wondered if I would have to review my plan of a cycle ride but the clouds scudded by and the blue patches grew larger until the day was bright. As you can see from the photo - perfect for a ride in the Hertfordshire countryside.

When I was out I was passed by a couple of people, dressed in their team jerseys, heads down, much leaner and fitter than me -  putting my rather laboured effort in its place. But I knew I could not raise my game. At the moment I am not very cycle fit. In fact I am not very fit at all as everything feels an effort.

If the project for this year has proved anything it is that just getting out each day and doing a little bit is no substitute for a proper training programme. If you want to get fit for a race or improve your times you need to stick to a schedule and incorporate hard, long easy and total rest.

However rest days are not an option in 2011, I can only have easy days. Recently some of those easy days have been so minimal they would count as rest, which I think indicates that I am at some sort of mid way hump. There is a long way to go but it is well past the bright beginning with the feeling of hope that comes with every new adventure. Now is the period of endurance and the sole objective of keeping going.

A bit like this ride.

But the ride also provided a hopeful analogy. Although I felt tired for most of it, something happened to change my mood. About two thirds along there was a long hill, which I was dreading. However I put the bike into a very low gear, twiddled and before I knew it I had found some sort of rhythm. After I reached the top I felt much better and the rest of the ride was so much easier.

So there you have it for this part of the 2011 Streak I have to put myself into a low gear and twiddle

2011 Streak 120/365: Some of these roads are now famous

2011 Streak 120/365: Cycle - 21.98, Time - 1hr 38min, Weather - the skies were once more blue.

In the last post I talked of mutual support and encouragement. Today's ride had a small example.

I passed a rider at the side of the road and asked if he was OK. He was, he was just adjusting his saddle, but from that we started a conversation (inevitably about our bikes and where we rode). As he had just finished his adjustments, we set off together and chatted for a while before our routes diverged. It was a pleasant but not only did it my ride a little lift it also gave me something to think about. 

He had had a Specialized BG fitting session and was full of enthusiasm. he explained the whole session took about 90 minute session but one of the big benefits was that they had discovered his shoes needed inserts to maintain a steady platform. This had helped cure some knee problems - and immediately bells started ringing in my head. Would it help me? I am always fiddling about with the positioning of my cleats and never quite sure if my set-up is right. Perhaps I need to find out. I suppose the, however, that the main thing putting me off is the price. I am not sure if £120 is a lot to pay for some tweaks or cheap for something that will be transformative. However if it can cure knee problems I should certainly sign up.

On the ride I travelled along some roads mentioned in the Guardian's feature 'Easy riders: 10 scenic cycle routes around England' . (Aldbury to Frithsden). They were right about the pubs. I would recommend both of them, especially the Alford Arms. However I was quite impressed that a feature about easy cycling called Toms Hill (the road out of Aldbury) a gentle climb - it is actually quite hard work.

But that is a minor quibble beside the fact that these roads are now famous.

2011 Streak 76/365: Cycling Proficiency

2011 Streak 76/365: Walk - 9.7 miles, Time 3hrs 10min, Weather - misty grey at first but gradually lifted

On my walk I passed this group of year 6 schoolchildren learning cycling proficiency. At first I was attracted by a line of kids dressed-up with helmets waiting by the side of the road - I thought it looked amusingly odd. I then saw that the instructor walking through the line to take when turning right at a junction, where to look and when to set off. After the demonstration they collected their bikes and one at a time attempted the manoeuvre.

There were three actually three instructors. The one you can see stayed with them when they got on their bikes and oversaw them setting off, another one is on the other side of the junction to double check that it is safe to make the turn, and further along is someone to tell them where to stop and make sure they do it in good order.

Teaching cycling on the roads is obviously labour intensive but I was very impressed by the attentive attitude of the kids, who obviously wanted to learn, and the way it was taught.

In my day cycling proficiency involved weaving in and out of cones on the playground and doing a few hand signals. I say in my day but I actually didn't do it (I think it was something that fell between the cracks when changing schools). But I like the way this is now taught during school hours as a proper lesson.

If we want to encourage people to cycle it is best to start young and the key skill is not bike handling but road sense. So I was most heartened

2011 Streak 75/365: Linemen

2011 Streak 75/365: Cycle 12 miles, Time 55min, Weather - as if smothered in grey mist

This is another in the 'men at work' series of photos. 

When I see people working on overhead cables I actually feel a slight pang of ancestral association. Both my father and grandfather were, at some point in their lives, telephone engineers and so would have spent time up telegraph poles. 

In those days they would have scaled them using the triangular footholds nailed each side of the pole. You rarely see those poles now, why would you when we have cherry pickers? Watching the men work I thought how much more difficult it was in the old days, how limited your movements would be when you were at the top; also how much safer it is working from a platform. Nevertheless if you were young and fit there must have been an exhilaration to climbing up poles as opposed to being lifted up.

After I took this picture I cycled on into the mist. I think the dial marked 'spring' has been turned back a few notches because it was cold as well as murky.

On the country roads I was passed by a few cars and one of the things I noticed was their courtesy. They slowed, waited for the appropriate place to mark and we exchanged nods and smiles. It was all quite civilised -not at all like the culture wars that seems to be breaking out between cars and cyclists. Perhaps that is more of a city thing. This war seems to have become especially vitriolic in some parts of America at the moment and resistance to plans to create more cycle lanes in New York has become newsworthy. 

Let me recommend this article by Tom Vanderbilt, which explains much about the American attitude to cycle through the device of following one person's long distance commute.

A Break Can Be Good

I have now not run for a month but the leg is now OK and next week I will start again. To be truthful I probably could have started a couple of weeks ago but didn't want to.

Now there is a terrible admission for a runner. Anybody who wants to live up to the name, and certainly anybody who writes a blog about running, should be chomping at the bit - mad with frustration. Yet I have been feeling remarkably content. It is a form of heresy.

The reasons are twofold. The first is that I am following a plan and so don't feel I am backsliding. As I want to training for a spring marathon I do not want the beginning compromised by worrying about a weakness. I therefore decided to wait until there was no discomfort (rather than just waiting until the pain was dull enough to bear). There is plenty of time and I am sure patience now will be rewarded later.

The second reason is that I have been enjoying cycling. It is a weird thing but the slightly different range of leg movement has left cycling unaffected: so I have been spending my time in the country roads, looking about and noticing how the autumn colours are getting ever more interesting.

Today's picture is nothing special - I could have stopped in any number of places and shown the mixture of reds, yellows, brown and greens. But it gives a good indication of how things look at the moment.

If you think the road looks small, rural and peaceful: you would be right. The strange thing is that it is only a short distance from the MI, full of thundering cars and lorries: the epitome of hustle. Also it is not that far from Watford and the edges of London, but that could all of that could be a million miles away. I like these contrasts. On a fairly easy ride you can slip between the agricultural, the wooded, the isolated village, the suburban, and the town centre.

Cycling has its distinct pleasures and I don't want to lose them when I start marathon training. So at least two sessions a week will be on the bike.  Sorted.

I actually think this break has been beneficial.

Cycle Facility

Juneathon day 29: cycle 21.7 miles 1hr 43min

I know there is a well establish website with photos of idiotic cycle facilities but nevertheless I feel I should join in with a picture from today’s ride.

This is your basic cycle lane: a little bit of red edged with some white lines, not much wider than a bike. However our wonderful traffic engineers have obviously given it extra thought. “What happens” they wonder “at those points where pedestrians want to cross the road?”

Obviously waiting for a gap with no cars or bikes would be very difficult so they need to be able to do it in two stages: first avoid all the bikes, pause and then wait for a gap in the cars. Genius! To allow this to happen they have altered the line of the curb, bent the cycle lane and built a little traffic island. The result is that it is impossible to cycle round this barrier at normal speed so there is no point in using the cycle path and the pedestrians don’t have to worry about looking out for cyclists before reaching the island.

The sad thing about bad cycle facilities is that some of them are so bad they are laugh out loud funny, yet they have cost. Resources are put into their creation and the authorities can turn round and say we spent so much on promoting cycling but it hasn’t worked so we might just as well forget about it. The cyclists look on bemused and wonder what sort of training and qualifications traffic engineers have to have and whether it contains a module on making things useful. (Just look at a few of the pictures here, here, and here).

Enough whinging. The cycle facility made no difference to my ride, I was soon out onto quiet country lanes, cycling through woods or past farms. It is odd, I live in an overcrowded part of the world, and towns and major roads are proof of this, but when I am out on these little byways I feel I could be in a world of my own. Anyway, after a fairly relaxed ride, I came home, listened to some Jan Gabarek, ate a sandwich, drank a mug of tea and thought pleasant thoughts

Juneathon statistics 29/29
Run 20/29
distance 155.39km
time 14hr 45min
Cycle 6/29
distance 103.5 miles
time 7hr 59min
Gym 3/29
time 2hr 05min

Hidden Strangeness

Juneathon day 24: cycle 20.4 miles time 1hr 38 min

Although it has been a warm sunny day, it has not been too hot because of a cooling breeze. For this reason the song going through my mind was Bill Callahan’s Rococo Zephyr. If you follow the link to a performance on YouTube you will realise that this is not really exercise music - no driving beats. However being slow and gentle it is perfect hot weather music and it suited my mood as all I wanted was a relaxed cycle ride.

My route took me along a number of small roads and as far as possible through woods. Today’s photo is of a very shady road in Bricket Wood. I have mentioned Bricket Wood in a previous post when I made a passing reference to it being the home of British naturism. I have since found out that it was also home to a coven of witches.

I am constantly amazed by the area that surrounds me. At first glance it seems unremarkable - just the dull Home Counties but behind the respectable facade there are all sorts of strangenesses.

On a completely unrelated note (well actually it is related to cycling) There was an excellent edition of ‘Off the Page’ on Le Tour de France (available on the iPlayer until 1st July). If you are at all interested in the romance of the event it is well worth a listen.

Juneathon statistics 24/24
Run 16/24
distance 114.93km
time 10hr 43min
Cycle 5/24
distance 81.8 miles
time 6hr 16min
Gym 3/24
time 2hr 05min

Sports Bike/City Bike

At the moment I feel very sluggish. For every step forward there are two back; for every fresh start a new stop.

Having my jaw excavated did not really affect my exercise programme, as it was only one day off and my target is five sessions a week. However this week has been far worse, far, far worse: only one measly session. Pathetic!

The cause was my own carelessness. I was bending over in an awkward position, trying to undo a nut, when I twisted to stop something falling. There was a twinge and my back went. Although the pull itself was not serious the result was an inevitable seizing-up of all back and shoulder muscles to compensate and protect. I could walk stiffly but running was impossible and I did not fancy the crouched riding position on my bike. All that was left was a bit of gentle moving about. Sometimes it is hard not to feel that I am falling to pieces.

I know one of the preoccupations of runners (every runner?) is injury but it can become tiresome to dwell too much on the problems. I hate the thought of becoming someone who is constantly checking their state of health, as it is only a short step from that to becoming the sort of person who answers the question 'How do you feel?' in detail rather than with a simple 'Good!' Being one of the worried-well would be more than my self image could take.

So I tell myself, yet again, that sometimes you just have to ride with things and accept that "is is is and ain't is ain't". What ain't at the moment is me as a finely tuned athlete; what is, is the need to build back slowly and rediscover the fun. That is all.

This video is from an
Australian blog which promotes Dutch style city bikes as a way of encouraging urban cycling> It tells me something about my current situation. I should not worry about trying to be sporty (or pretend I am faster than I am). I should just get out there and tootle around. As the video says riding a sit up and beg is still riding a bike.

Shiny, Shiny Things

My bike is nothing exotic as it is neither super fast, feather light nor made from carbon or titanium. The paint scheme is pleasantly retro and the material is old-school steel and as such I think it rather nice. It is designed for hacking about and it suits me fine. There are details that make it interesting, for example you can see that the designer came from mountain biking and the wishbone seat stays make it look like an overgrown mountain bike frame from about 1990. But that is not important - all that matters is that it rides quite well.

The only reason I mention this is that last week it sparked an interesting conversation. I was cycling through the industrial area, near the end of a ride when the driver of an Audi slowed down and indicated that he wanted to ask me something.

“I see you are riding a Plane X bike” he said “How do you find it? Only I am going up to their place at Doncaster today and was thinking of getting one of their bikes”

So I told him about the bike and what I knew of the company and then we started talking more generally. He had recently come back into cycling and wanted the excitement of some new equipment. His existing bike was custom made steel but he thought it a little large and it was old and he was tired of it. Sometimes I think when we go back to a passion after a break we need the stimulus of the new, the sense of a fresh start.

“You know that ever since I decided to get a new bike I am always looking at what people ride and noticing.” I could relate to that because the same thing happens to me: if I am buying a new toy one of the pleasures is the anticipation stage when you look and compare and gather enough information to allow your heart to make the decision.

We then moved moved from equipment to more general things like motivation and objectives. As he had just started back he was full of the enthusiasm that comes with rediscovery but what was keeping him focussed was a challenge. He wanted to cycle, with a friend, from their home near Newcastle to Edinburgh and back in a day; approximately 230 miles, with hills. A serious enterprise that made me realise how limited my own ambitions, or capabilities, are -if I did the trip one way, in a day, I would be extremely happy. But we all have to have our own horizons.

We then parted ways, him to Doncaster me to home but it had been a cheery conversation, all the more enjoyable because it had been unexpected and random. It left thinking that the big difference between running and cycling is the enjoyment of cycleporn, ie an obsessive interest in well designed objects, a hierarchy of desirability and a susceptibility to brand image. There is both good and bad to it. The bad is consumer ism, whilst the good is an aesthetic sensibility: the appreciation of the beauty of something that works both well and elegantly. No matter how hard running magazines and manufacturers try to push the latest developments it is not the same. The kit is still no more than: shoes, shorts, socks and a top. A bike can look stylish all by itself but a runner….Well actually I prefer not to look at my reflection if I happen to be passing a shop window.

No one has ever stopped me and said “I see you run in Asics, how do you find them?” and no one ever will. The manufactures might claim the all sorts of technological advances for their trainers but the main criterion is whether they fit. In other words it is all about the human body and how it moves, not how well the equipment works. In that there is a sort of purity and that is why I run.

But I like shiny things as well - so I also cycle.