End Of Year Report

New Year's eve 2013, and time for a quick reflection on the passing year (while pedalling out more miles on the turbo trainer).

I've cycled over 5,000 kilometres, climbed nearly 50km, learnt how to fix most things on my bike, ascended one of the hardest climbs of the Tour de France and finished in the top half of the Etape du Tour. Not bad.

I've set myself some pretty tough targets for 2014, and it feels like a metaphorical as well as literal mountain to climb. Confidence is low, but there's still time to build it up. Some early season targets will help in the build up to the Cingles and the Marmotte. The first is to complete two 160km (100 mile) rides in preparation for the Burgess Hill Springtime Classic at the end of March (where the target will be a gold medal time)

Stats for December:

Time on bike: 10hrs 47 mins (1hr 56mins on the road)
Distance cycled: 335km (42km on the road)
Total climbing: 1,000m

Meet The Mountains

The recent stormy weather (and other commitments) means that training has been restricted to sessions on the turbo trainer since Wales, just to keep the legs ticking over through Christmas.

Seems like a good time to add a bit more detail as to what faces me come July in the Alps.

First: Col du Glandon:

Next: Col du Telegraphe:

Third, the big one: Galibier:

And just when the legs can give no more: Alpe d'Huez:

Mentality

Took the bike to Wales at the weekend with the intention of doing a long ride on saturday, then tailoring another ride to how the legs felt on Sunday.

The route I'd chosen for Saturday is a great ride I've done before, which criss-crosses the spine of the Brecon Beacons 4 times and incorporates 7 decent climbs (including the Devil's Elbow)

After finding myself poorly fuelled for the last couple of long rides I've done, I made sure that I was properly fed and hydrated before setting off. Even still, the legs felt weak and progress felt slow up the first climb of the day. This started to make me think, and I realised that the problems weren't so much physical as mental - I've 'bonked' on the last couple of long rides I've done, and now I think I am being subconciously cautious about pushing myself too early in a ride as I don't believe that I have the power/stamina to complete a long, hilly ride.

Once I'd got my head straight, I started to feel much better and dispatched the second climb of the day up Cerrig Duon with relative ease. The descent of this is great fun, as the road surface is half-decent, and visibility was really good:

After losing all that altitude, I immediately turned north onto the A4067 and the climb back up to the pass over the Beacons. Again, felt good on this and the super-fast descent over the other side past the Cray reservoir. Took the junction and the immediate rise taking me towards Heol Senni and a date with the Devil's Elbow, when *PING*, and my legs were spinning freely.

A glance down showed my chain was trailing behind the bike, and I just managed to unclip before coming to a complete standstill (lucky I wasn't going up anything steeper). A quick check revealed that a pin had broken, separating the chain. Wisdom says that this is likely to be caused by a defective pin, but I like to think that I was just putting too much power through the pedals.

So that was it, 50km into a planned 110km ride. All that was left was to call up the team car (Dad) and wait in the sunshine for him to arrive. At least there are worse places to break down:

Having fixed my chain, I decided to go out and have a double crack at Llangynidr mountain on Sunday morning, as the base of it is only 5km away. This is a really good climb, and mirrors a lot of alpine climbs with an average gradient of around 7-8%, with a few ramps of 11-12%, albeit over a much shorter distance. On the first ascent, I turned off before the summit for the descent to Crickhowell, which is really fun. Nudged 70km/h despite not being entirely confident in the integrity of the road surface. Back to Llangynidr and begun the ascent again, this time pedalling all the way to the summit, which is a solid 400m climb.




Not sure how I got 61m below sea level in the Brecon Beacons, but hey....


Felt really good to get all this climbing done, and stopped quickly on the descent for a quick snap, before heading home.

Stats for November:

Time on bike: 19hrs 56mins (16hrs 21mins on the road)
Distance cycled: 501km (382km on the road)
Total climbing: 4,595m

Race Diary

Have cobbled together a rough calendar of events for next year to keep the training on track:

March: Burgess Hill Springtime Classic (120km)
April: Training weekend in South Wales
May: Etape Caledonia (130km)
         Trip to Provence (inc. attempt at les Cingles - 5,000m climbing)

May try to find a 160km+ sportive to do (no Tour of Wessex for me this year), but if I'm disciplined enough, there will be a few 160km rides in April/May/June as part of my general training.

Parklife

3 laps of Richmond Park (with a hangover again) this morning.

Still felt short of power - cannot put my finger on what's going wrong. Will just keep plugging away for now.

Knock, Knock

I'd had this weekend penciled in as the start of serious Marmotte training for a while (this is not to say that the Hellfire sportive was some kind of 'leg loosener' however).

A gorgeous early winter day greeted me on Saturday, so off I went to Richmond Park with no goal in mind other than to practice cycling at a higher cadence. The cadence sensor on the bike wasn't quite set up right, so the reading was occasionally a little intermittent, but I returned an average of 83rpm, which is pretty much the centre of the zone I was aiming for. It felt slow speed-wise, but apparently that's normal and the pace will return once I get used to the new technique.

Today I headed out in the direction of the Surrey downs. This lasted only a couple of KM's though, before I had to turn back to the house to retrieve the water bottles I'd left behind! Liquid refreshment in place, off I went again. Felt good all the way down to the first climb, Ranmore, but as soon as the climb began the legs felt tired and devoid of any real power. I put the bike in a low gear and span away at a very slow speed, all the time wondering if I should call it quits there and then and head for home.

Once at the top, I pedalled along Ranmore common and ate the sandwich I'd brought with me, and began to feel a little better on the descent down Critten Lane. Consumed an energy gel before the 2nd climb, Crocknorth Rd, and began to work my way up the 15% slope. Again, there was nothing in the legs, and at times it felt like I was going backwards.

Once up on Ranmore Common again, my speed picked up as I pointed the bike towards Box Hill. Another energy gel before the start, then I was onto the climb. I'd resigned myself to the fact it was going to be slow, and indeed it was as many cyclists went past me on the ascent. After that, it was the 30km home, where my lack of energy became a full-on bonk. Getting the knock is a horrible experience, and my legs turned to jelly and my mind went blank - not good in London traffic. My last ounces of energy and autopilot got me home, upon which I consumed my weekly intake of calories in one sitting.

Chris Froome bonking on Alpe d'Huez in the 2013 TdF - unfortunately I had neither a team car or a Richie Porte to get me food in the Surrey Downs!

So what went wrong? Well I'm not sure. Maybe I was feeling tired from Saturday's ride. Maybe I still hadn't recovered from the Sportive last week. Maybe I hadn't fuelled properly over the weekend. Maybe I need to lay off the booze for a bit. My suspicion is it's a combination of all of the above.

Still, stats for the weekend below. Nice to feel like I'm getting some real miles under my belt.

Distance cycled: 146km
Time on bike: 5hrs 56mins
Average speed: 24.5km/h
Total climbing: 1,623m

Don't Sweat The Technique

Following my ruminations below on my current shortcomings, I have invested a considerable amount of time researching climbing technique and how to improve it. The following article seems to back up what I had identified as my problems with hill-climbing - it appears that I am a 'masher', when I need to be a 'spinner'

The article lays out everything really well (apart from indentifying the real reasons behind Lance's climbing ability!), and the problems associated with being a 'masher' do ring true with me (high heart rate, low cadence, lactic acid build-up)

So my course of action is clear - my next few training rides should be used to get used to pedalling at a higher cadence (both on hills and the flat). Once I'm comfortable with that, then I will have a better idea of how my HR will respond to the new technique when the road points at the sky.

Click here for Mark Consugar on climbing

Back To The Drawing Board

If the Hellfire sportive taught me one thing on Sunday (other than my fitness being woefully short of par), it's that my hill-climbing tecnique needs to improve markedly, particularly as the Marmotte and the Cingles have over 5,000m of climbing each. As mentioned in the last post, it was worrying to find that Jon's HR when climbing was high but comfortable when the road ramped up, whereas I was on the limit.

The internet is awash with hints and tips which promise to make you 'ascend like a pro', and whilst that might be a little outlandish for a MAMIL like me (don't think I'll ever ascend the Ventoux at 20km/h+!), there is some wisdom which I'm hoping will help.

This advice can be broken down into two areas:

1. Technique

Don't attack at the bottom of a climb - I need to curb my enthusiasm when the road starts to ramp up. Powering through short climbs is fine, but for long or steep climbs I need to be far more disciplined. I have a tendency to go hard into the start of a climb in too big a gear and keep going until I'm forced to change down. This makes my HR spring up to near maximum, and from there it never recovers to a manageable level until the climb is over. A much more efficient method would be to get into an easy rhythm early and maintain a steady effort.

Use a higher cadence - I rarely check my cadence when climbing, but when I do it's probably 70rpm at best. Current wisdom suggests that it should be closer to 90rpm to maximise efficiency. Getting used to a higher cadence can be done on the turbo-trainer, so this is definitely something to work on over the winter.

Nutrition - As mentioned before, my eating and drinking habits on the bike are sporadic at best, meaning that I find myself with a lack of energy or adequate hydration when I hit a climb. Improving discipline by eating/drinking every 20-30mins will improve this, as will doing a little homework on the course beforehand so I know where the major climbs are and thus can make sure I'm prepared.

2. Training

Doing long rides - This worked for the Etape - there really is little substitute to getting out on long rides incorporating some significant climbs.

Don't duck long rides in the winter due to bad weather

Utilise circuits of Richmond Park - 3 lap TT's of the park are a great test of fitness, but measuring my effort to complete 3 consecutive flying laps may not be the most productive use of the session. If time allows, 5 laps of over/under training would be far more useful in building fitness, where laps 1, 3 & 5 are flying laps on the limit, with a recovery lap in between.

Get a bike fit - Looking for free watts? Chances are you'll get some by finding your most efficient position on the bike

A Game Of Two Halves

Rode the Hellfire Sportive in Kent on Sunday in what proved to be tricky conditions. Although the sun shone on the day, it had been wet and windy in the days preceding, meaning that the roads were wet, muddy and full of sharp objects which seemed determined to find their way into everyone's inner tubes.

The route was supposedly 140km long, and opened with a nervy descent down a narrow, wet lane in a large group. Once off the descent the pace picked up nicely, and riding with Jon was good fun as we chatted and hurtled through the Kent countryside.

The climbs, though short, did show up Jon's superior climbing ability as we found that his HR was a comfortable 165bpm when ascending, whereas I was approaching my max HR. This difference became really apparent at the top of each climb, as I maintained my climbing pace as the road levelled out while I recovered, while Jon immediately clicked up a couple of gears and went away from me.

At about the halfway point, I really began to feel the effort of pulling along at such a speed. I was effectively in TT mode on the flats just to keep Jon's wheel. So I told Jon to go off at his own speed. So he did. Like he was chasing down a breakaway. Within a minute he was out of sight, and I went backwards.

The rate at which my speed dropped off was alarming, and I felt weak and the legs stiffened up (I really need to address my on-bike nutrition habits). The rest of the ride became a slog, as I battled my own body and an unrelenting headwind all the way home.

The feedstop at 90km and the Garmin clicking over the magic 100km did rejuvenate me somewhat, but I was still toiling. In my defence, I hadn't been feeling great that day with some kind of stomach complaint, and I later found that my rear brake had been rubbing on the rim, but the reality was that having done no long rides at race-pace since the Etape, I was woefully short of fitness.

I knew that the course finished with a 3km ascent up the same hill we'd gone down at the start, so I resolved to take it easy up what I thought was the penultimate climb with 10km to go and empty the tank on the final push. I was therefore bl**dy suprised to find the finish line at the top of that climb - the course was 9km shorter than I had been led to believe. This did mean that I had enough energy for an out-of-the-saddle sprint (of sorts) through the Kent showground to the finishing arch.

Stats for the ride were:

Distance: 131km
Time: 5hrs 58mins
Average Speed: 22km/h (23km/h moving time)
Total Climbing: 1,500m

So way off the gold medal time, and silver was still a speck in the distance. Instead, a feeble surrender and a bronze medal (everyone wins a prize!). The only redeeming fact is that I managed to ward off the puncture fairy, which was quite a feat as there was more than one story in the finishing area of people with 4-5 punctures.

Still, lots and lots of work to do

Get Fit Or Die Tryin'

It's 8 months until the Marmotte, and it feels like I've done the square root of f*** all in preparation so far. Not necessarily a bad thing - you can't keep training year-round without a break, so the time off the bike following the Etape has been welcome. But now's the time to get serious.

I've done a fair amount of work on the turbo this week, and this Sunday is my first post-Etape sportive - the Wiggle Hellfire Corner down in Kent. A speed of 25km/h needs to be maintained around the 140km course to achieve the Gold Medal time, so I'll be aiming for that.

Beyond that, I've got a free couple of days the following weekend, when I hope to get down to Surrey for the first time since the summer, and I'll be following that up with a weekend pedalling around the Brecon Beacons on my lonesome. I'm expecting it to rain.

Inspiration to train hard was revived last weekend after going to the Manchester Velodrome to watch the track cycling World Cup. The speed hit by the sprinters is jaw-dropping (as is the angle of the banking), and watching Laura Trott's breakaway effort in the Omnium scratch race will live long in the memory as one of the most brilliantly gutsy things I've ever seen on a bike.

We Can Rebuild It, We Have The Technology

With rain and gale force winds arriving, the time has come to put the Scott away for the winter and re-instate the Cube as the bike of choice.

Unfortunately, that meant having to rebuild it first.

I'm proud to say that I did it all myself, including the cabling and installing a new bottom bracket and chain. Some fresh bar tape finished it off nicely, and it all runs smoothly.

Doubts

It seems like ages since I've been out on the road on the bike. Most weekends since the etape have been taken up with doing all the things I couldn't do earlier in the year due to training for Annecy.

The route for the Tour de France has been released, and the etape for this year is back in the Pyrenees, taking in the massive climbs of the Tourmalet and Hautacam. I can imagine that all those planning to do the race this year are getting quite excited now - it should be a great ride (as long as the weather behaves)

Speaking of the Tour de France, I spent the weekend in Paris and took a stroll along the greatest finishing straight in the world, the Champs Elysees. It's not hard to imagine around 200 cyclists hammering around it at the end of the Tour, but I didn't appreciate how much of a hill there is on it. Especially now that the circuit goes right up to the Arc de Triomphe. A nasty sting when your trying to maintain a speed of 50-60km/h at the end of 3 weeks riding.

And now I'm back in the UK, and it seems that my bike is permanently connected to the turbo trainer. It's a really good workout, and I get a lot from it, but it's no alternative to getting out on the road and putting the long rides in. And the more time I spend off the bike, the more enormous the task of preparing for, and riding, the Marmotte becomes.

This is really beginning to play on my mind, as as I mentioned at the very start of this blog, I'm prone to not even attempting things which I deem to be out of reach. I need to get into serious training, so that I feel like I'm moving towards my target, not letting it get away.

Then there are the scary aspects of the course, and these are really turning niggling doubts into full-blown paranoia the more I think about them.

Take the first climb of the race up to the Col du Glandon for example. It's 24km long. That's longer than Ventoux, and much longer than any climb I attempted on the etape. And that's just the first of 4 HC category climbs!

After that there's the descent back to the valley. I'm far from being a great descender, and this part of the course is actually neutralised as they've had many crashes and even fatalities in the past. Gulp.

Into the valley and there's a 15km, slightly uphill, drag to the foot of the Telegraphe. The key here is to get in a group and do as little work as possible, but what if I don't get into a group and have to pull along on my own? My legs could be shot before I get even halfway round.

The Telegraphe doesn't sound too scary, but it's another long climb which saps the energy just before you get to the big one - Galibier.

Galibier sounds brutal. The second half of the climb averages at around 10%, and gets up to 14-15% in places. Tough on it's own, but with two mountains already behind me I may just pedal to a standstill (how do you say 'put me back on my bike' in French?)

The general consensus is that if you crest Galibier still on your bike, it's a massive milestone as you have a lovely long descent all the way to Bourg d'Osian to recuperate, and you're likely to have ample time to get up Alpe d'Huez, even if you take a break at each one of the fabled 21 hairpins.

But even then there's still so much that can go wrong. As I've said, I'm not the greatest descender, so when you add in fatigue and several dark road tunnels into the equation, coming down off the mountain is fraught with danger. By the time I get over Galibier (if I do) I'll have done as much climbing as in the 2013 etape, and I don't need reminding that I was pretty much on the limit there. So the descent is likely to be quite tense, expending even more precious energy.

Then there's just the Alpe to go. For the first two hairpins, the gradient averages 11% - nevermind resting at each corner, I may have to stop every 10 metres! After that it will be an utter, painful, delirious, never-ending slog. The internet is awash with stories of Marmotteers collapsing on the Alpe, only to wake up in hospital in Bourg and their finishers medal cruelly snatched away (I've even read of one poor guy collapsing in the town of Huez, having completed the climbing and had less than 1km to go). I have no doubt I'm gonna hate every moment of the Alpe, which is a shame as it's the climb I most want to do. I'll have to come back some time and do it on it's own.

So that's what I'm up against. I always felt I was strong enough to do the Etape, but even that pushed my body to the limit. This looks like a wholly different proposition. And I really am scared.

Saddle Sore

The dreary autumnal weather has finally arrived, so with the rain pelting the windows, I attached the bike to the turbo trainer to have a go at Sufferfest's new video - the aptly-named 'It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time'

The story to this training video is that you are attempting to win the most aggressive rider award at the Giro d'Italia on a stage containing 4 mountains and lasts 2 hours.

The riding is mostly tempo climbing and time-trialling, and whilst I prefer interval training on the turbo, this was quite welcome as I don't think I could manage 2 hours of attacks and accelerations. There was still plenty of changes of pace to keep me interested though.

At the end I was suitably drenched in sweat, and my sit-bones were completely numb. Two hours on the bike without being able to stand or really change my position was probably the hardest part of the programme.

It looks like the bad weather is here to stay, so I may have to pack away the Scott and rebuild the Cube as a winter bike (to mudguard or not?)

Cotswolds, Cake and Climbing

Took my bike on a weekend holiday with my mates to the Cotswolds, and despite the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, I managed to get out for a couple of rides on it.

On Saturday I led our slightly hungover peloton on a loop ride from Tetbury.

The main climb on the first half of the ride was a punchy 12% out of the village of Uley, which strung out the group a bit. The descent into Stroud was great fun with some fast, sweeping bends (and the occasional cattle grid). Half-time refuelling came courtesy of the Lockkeeper's Café in Stroud.

 

 

Was able to really attack out of the saddle on Butterrow Hill and maintain a good speed all the way up the climb. After that we rolled across the heathland at the top before hammering along the approach back to Tetbury.

 

 

 

Good ride and lots of fun.

 





Went out for a 23km TT today - good course with a couple of short climbs to get the heartrate going. Averaged 33.3km/h - not bad given the amount of wine, cocktails and rich food consumed the night before.

Put Me Back On My Bike

After 2 weeks in Africa (there are some great cycling roads in Uganda and Rwanda - must take the bike next time!), my attention has turned to starting to get myself back into shape.

I've put on 1.5kg since the Etape, and I also have the Great South Run to train for in October.

I've already entered a couple of sportives for either side of Christmas, and have registered my interest for the Etape Caledonia in May. The centrepiece of my training, however, will be an attempt to join the Club des Cingles in May.

Membership of the club is fairly straightforward. All you have to do is cycle up all three ascents of Mont Ventoux. In one day. There's a reason why cingles translates as 'screwballs'

The 5,000m of climbing mirrors the Marmotte very well, albeit over a shorter distance and a much more relaxed time schedule - lunch at Chalet Reynard anyone?

The Road Most Travelled

Back down to Surrey this morning with Emily to spin the legs and get some climbing in. Did a route which included the climbs up Ranmore, Staples Lane, White Downs and Box.

Heroically managed to stay sur le plaque (on the big ring, for those that don't speak velominati) all the way up Ranmore, nearly brought back my café-stop cake in setting a time of 3:45 up White Downs, and managed a respectable 7:15 up Box Hill.

Top of Ranmore. Still on the big ring. Evidence. Sort of...

100km ridden. Cycling will be tailing off for a time whilst on holiday for the next 2 weeks though.

Pain Revisited

Found this video documenting the ascent of Semnoz during the Etape by someone who climbed at the same speed as me:



My thighs hurt just by watching this. My times for all the climbs on the Etape are included on the certificate below. Interesting that I climbed quicker than 811 riders that eventually finished ahead of me - need to brush up on the descending skills!

The Hour

Preparation wasn't ideal (dehydration from a weekend's camping and drinking) and the conditions weren't perfect with a headwind all the way up to Richmond Gate, but I whizzed off to Richmond Park yesterday evening to try and beat the 60 minute mark for the 3 lap time trial.

The first lap went well with a 19:41, but I encountered a fair bit of traffic on the second lap and recorded a 20:15, leaving me needing a sub-20:04 to beat the magic mark.

Felt dizzy going up the final climb at Kingston Gate, and gunned it as best I could to the finish but the best I could do was a 20:09 for a total time of 1 hr 5 secs.

Real feeling that I was losing time on the short, punchy climbs as riders that I had cruised by on the 'flat' would in turn effortlessly pass me again as soon as the road ramped up. Need to look at increasing my power for attacking climbing.

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing 25 Watts

Having only had a minimal amount of rides on my new bike, I took the opportunity to play around with the set up today.

After dropping the stem to a more 'racy' position, I calculated my correct seat-post height, then made a few further minor adjustments to ensure it was comfortable. The upshot of this is that I found out that my saddle was 2cm too low.

A bit of research online suggests that this could have been costing me about 25 watts of power. You have no idea what I would've given for an extra 25 watts on Semnoz...

Getting Back On The Horse

So the challenge is complete - what now?

Even whilst plotting our assault on the Etape, Jon and I had discussed making it a 2-year plan and also targetting 'la Marmotte' in 2014 - widely regarded as the toughest sportif in Europe:

Yes, that's 174.5km and nearly 5,000m of climbing. Best get training.

So after 2 weeks of recovering from the Etape, the perfect summer's weather persuaded me to go and complete a few laps of Richmond Park. No lap times, or heartrate monitors - just enjoying the ride (this didn't stop me gunning a few of the climbs!)

Then on Sunday, our Etape triumvirate of Jon, Emily and myself took a spin down to Surrey to stretch our legs properly and help Emily prepare for the Ride100 sportive in a couple of weeks. Hills climbed were Leith, Hound House Road, White Downs and a race up Box (Jon dropped me again). A lot of fun, and 135km ridden.

Watched the Tour complete the Etape stage on Saturday too. Was nice to see the pros struggle on Semnoz too, albeit at a far quicker pace. Amazing that Quintana completed the course 35 mins quicker than the winner of the Etape, and was 11 mins over doing the stage in half the time it took me.

And then Chris Froome went on to win the Tour. Chapeau

Etape du Tour 2013: Annecy - Annecy Semnoz

Here we go...

 

A 5:30am alarm call on Friday morning signalled the start of the slog down to Annecy, with the car fully packed, we headed down to Folkestone to hitch a ride on the Eurotunnel.

 



After several long hours on the peage we caught the first glimpse of the Alps as we came out of the Tunnel de Saint Germain de Joux. They looked massive and steep, but I just wanted to get on the bike and get on with it.

Once we got to Annecy, we checked into our overnight hotel and went into town to meet Jon and get some food. It was lovely to sit in the evening warmth and get through my first of many bowls of pasta.

On Saturday, we went to the race village to sign on, and then to find somewhere to watch the British Lions in the 3rd test against Australia. The Captain's Pub appeared to be the only place in town showing the game, and it seemed like all the British etappers were in there to watch. Never has a game of rugby been watched by so many men with not a single beer between them.

A massive win for the Lions put us all on a high, but quickly it was back to business. After setting up camp at the far end of Lake Annecy, we went for a ride along the lakeside to spin the legs. Even in the early evening, it was obvious that the heat could be a real factor come the main event. Very inspiring to get back to the camp to find that Chris Froome had monstered the first day in the Pyrenees on the TdF.

Post ride it was more pasta, a final check of the kit, and then an early night.

I woke up at 5am after a decent nights sleep, wolfed down 2 pots of porridge, a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich and an energy bar, changed into my kit, swung my leg over my new bike and set off on the 15km jaunt to the start line.

 

  







For the first time in etape history, the start was staggered, probably with the horribly narrowing road after only 8km on the first climb in mind, so I had to watch an hour-long procession of riders heading out before I got my turn. Once through the start gate, the pace picked up quickly and it was an incredible feeling to be hurtling though the outskirts of Annecy in a big pack on closed roads, zipping around both sides of roundabouts, dodging road furniture and hitting speeds of 45km/h on the flat.

It was all over too soon however, as after only 7.5km we turned right at the village of St Jorioz and onto the first climb of the day up to the Cote du Puget. The climb is classified as Cat 2, and I quickly got into a good rhythm, with my speed only being stalled by the number of riders on the narrow road. The view as we climbed was fantastic, both looking at the valley below, and of the lines of riders grinding up the switchbacks like lines of ants.

After a short descent, the road ramped up again to the Col de Leschaux. Again the pace was good as the riders on the road began to thin out and I soon reached the top of the climb, after which the road rolled along through the meadows in the hanging valley above Lake Annecy.

It was great to pass through the little villages dotted along the route, and find the locals had set themselves up at the edge of the road to cheer the riders on with shouts of Bravo! and Allez! along with a few ringing cowbells. My Wales jersey even elicited a few shouts of "C'mon Wales!" from the assembled ex-pats and holiday-makers.

I still felt strong as I started the climb up the Cote d'Allion-le-Vieux and immediately on to the Col des Pres, although the rising temperature was slowly beginning to sap the strength as quickly as the gradient under my wheels. I still found the energy to get out of the saddle and drive the pedals coming out of the hairpins though.

The rate at which the road ramped up on the Col des Pres really began to bite, and it was here I saw the first walkers of the day. They were in for a long afternoon.

I ground out the last part of the climb, with the thought of a rejuvenating descent and a drink stop at the bottom spurring me on. The descent was quite technical, and I was a bit tentative at first, before getting into my stride and letting the wheels spin out. Even then, I was being overtaken by riders that seemed to be going twice as fast. It was incredible to watch the speed they held through corners, and by the time I made it around, they were gone.

At the bottom I pulled into the drinks station to refuel my bidons. I was very aware that I hadn't eaten much, but the high heartrate from climbing and the soaring heat meant that putting solid food in was proving difficult. I resolved to be more disciplined on this for the rest of the ride.

Soon after the drinks stop, the climb of Mont Revard began. The profile of 16km at a gradient of 5.4% suggests that this would be a long, but relatively comfortable climb. The reality of it though was that there were several ramps on the road which got close to 10%. As I slowly turned the pedals in bottom gear, the heat really started to affect me, along with a pain in both knees and a dull ache at the base of my spine. As I climbed higher, thoughts of stopping began to creep into my head. I hadn't been worried about the broom wagon, and hadn't really considered that I wouldn't finish, so this was a short sharp wake-up call about how hard the etape is.

It was on Mont Revard that Jon finally caught up and passed me, having started in a later pen. Despite him disappearing into the distance, I wasn't demoralised, and it was nice to have a short chat with him before he went off chasing down more rabbits. Left on my own, I found a good rhythm and worked my way up to the mist-covered summit, stopping quickly at the feed stop near the summit to refill my bidons again and stretch my back.

Over the top, I found the descent was less technical, and thus far faster, than the Col de Pres. It was exhilarating to hammer down the long straights and link together the sweeping curves. Seeing a few accidents being attended to by ambulances did temper the bravery in some of the corners, but I still descended faster than I'd ever done before.

Once back down on the plains I kept up a good pace, passing through some lovely scenery including the suspension bridge over the very deep Gorges du Cheran (which looked like it had been freshly tarmaced that morning). Found a few wheels to follow, but the short climbs to the final feed stop at Gruffy meant groups never lasted long.

Stopped at the feed station to eat, fill the bottles and stretch before the assault on the final climb. There was a local there who was spraying willing cyclists with water to cool them down. I didn't partake, but with hindsight I wish I had. Neither did I partake in tasting the local cheese and wine on offer. I'm pretty sure this was a good idea though...

As I rode out of Gruffy towards the lower slopes of the Semnoz, I began to feel cramps in both my legs. Fortunately I had a lower gear to change to, and spinning out the legs managed to reduce the lactic acid in my muscles.

Before you get to the Semnoz climb proper, there's a nasty ascent of 3km at a gradient of 8%. By the village of Quintal, my thighs were screaming from the exertions of the day as I turned onto the Semnoz climb proper.

Suddenly it was like pedaling through sand. I pressed the gear lever more in hope than expectation, and found there were no more gears, so there was nothing left but to take a deep breath, remind myself it was the last climb, and get on with it.

I winched my way up the climb, but the pain in my calves, knees, thighs and back were getting worse and worse, and the merciless sun continued to beat down on my head. I knew there was a final water stop with 8km to go, so I was aiming for that. However, the placebo effect of approaching the stop, plus a slight easing of the gradient managed to convince my increasingly delirious brain that I was OK to carry on without stopping, so that's what I did.

8km to go. I've never known kilometres tick by so slowly. I cursed at my Garmin. I swore that the organisers had forgotten some km markers. I knew it would take an hour to reach the top, and I just hoped that my strength would hold up.

At 5km to go, my body gave up and the pain from cramp stopped me from turning the pedals. I managed to unclip and stood over my top-tube at the side of the road, draining an entire bottle of electrolyte drink and watching my heartrate blissfully dip back under maximum. By now, there were so many people walking their bikes up the road, but I refused to join them. I wanted to cycle all the way to the finish.

So I took another deep breath, stretched the legs as best I could, clipped back in and moved off. The next 2km were utter hell. By now, in addition to the walkers, there were bodies strewn along the roadside all the way up the climb, all seeking shade and rest. I even saw one cyclist being put in the recovery position in the middle of the road, at the exact point where he'd collapsed off his bike. The heat was unbearable.

After another quick stretch at the 3km to go marker, I knew I was going to make it, although the summit appeared as the trees thinned and seemed so far away still. The km markers seemed to come quicker now, and before I knew it the 1km board appeared, then the 500m to go. A last evil ramp and suddenly I was on the summit and there was the finishing arch.

Success.

I stumbled across the finish area for the grassy bank behind, found a space and lay down. I was broken.

The finish Line



30 minutes of recovery in the Alpine sun felt great, then with the pressure off, the descent back down to Annecy was fantastic, and on arrival I received what I'd craved since I decided to enter the etape - a finishers medal.

I met up with Jon and Emily soon after. Jon had finished in a frankly outstanding time of 6:08, and Emily had decided to give the etape a go, as she was already entered, to see how she would get on. The broom wagon caught up with her just before Mont Revard, but she managed the first 4 categorised climbs and loved every minute of it. Chapeau to them both.

As for me, my stats were:

Time: 6hrs 53min 3sec

Position: 4,947 (from 11,475 starters)

Average speed: 18.6km/h

Total Climbing: 3,511m

All that was left was to roll back to the camp at the other end of the lake, and enjoy a well earned beer.



The next day we packed up, and headed to Reims for a night in a chateau for some post race relaxation.

As I sat on their terrace with a glass of white wine, it sunk in that I had done it.

Vive le Tour