Did someone say pain is temporary?

A few blogs ago I took you on an 80 mile ride. Today we're going for a fast 20 mile run.. a high intensity session.
Yesterday I wittered on about sports drinks and nutrition and generally made it all sound a bit surreal. The point is , I still have to get on the bike and pedal. Furthermore, despite feeling reasonably pleased with my progress to date, I still have to keep pushing, keep on progressing. I don't think I'm anywhere near strong enough for L'Etape yet.

So, the mainstay of my riding in the next 6 weeks are going to be what I would describe as high intensity sessions. Fairly short distances at near maximum sustained effort. The body needs to adapt to the stress of a raised heart rate, raised lactate levels and pain. It hurts, it's not enjoyable, and I don't really look forward to the ride. But my reasoning is that climbing 5 dirty great big French mountains in 35 degrees of heat over 125 miles is not going to be easy or enjoyable and is going to hurt too!

Let's get ready to ride. 22 miles at 80% maximum effort. It is not going to be nice.
First off, I have to plan ahead.
What is Mrs C and the children doing today? The weather? What time shall I go out?
I need to be careful what I eat and drink for about 2 hours beforehand or I'll more than likely be seeing it again, or at the very least I'll get tummy cramps and/or the squits. I make certain that I'm well hydrated.
The iPod needs to be loaded with something suitable. Today, I went for Weezer, Strokes, ELO, Arctic Monkeys, Led Zep, Beatles, SRV, Robert Cray and Rancid. Obviously it's set to 'shuffle'.
Then get the gear together... water bottle, phone, key, saddle bag, bike computer, headphones. I check the bike over, and pump up the tyres to pressure. 120 psi.
Clothing... depends on the temperature. It's still warm and humid with some nasty black clouds to the north, but the rain should hold off until tomorrow. I put on a thin short sleeve base-layer, bib shorts and my short sleeved zipper top. Thin socks and the shoes.

I'm ready.

At this point I should do a gentle warm up and then some stretching before I give it the berries , but I just can't be bothered. Sorry.

Computer on. Leave the gate and head to Hulverstone. I'm cold, especially my arms. If I was warm at this point it would mean that I was over-dressed.
It always feels as if the brakes are binding when you set off. Depressing. Past The Sun Inn and smell the greasy cooking odour and try not to imagine supping a cool pint of Badger. The first short drag out of the village is steep, but I burn it hard out of the seat, then I settle down to get a nice steady cadence at about 22 mph. I immediately clock the headwind, so I tuck in to try and make myself small. We fly past Mottistone Manor on a nice S-bend then keep the pressure on before taking a left up Strawberry Lane. A very nasty climb is ahead of us. The road is narrow singletrack with high hedges and a blind corner. It is frequented by local people who think they know the road so they drive too fast or visitors/non-locals who don't know the road so they drive too fast. I haven't got time to worry about cars as the road drops down after the bend, over a load of sandy mud which is spewing out of a badger set. The front wheel skips nervously at 35 mph.
The road ramps up quickly. I'm on the big ring and out of the seat really pumping hard maintaining the momentum. I'm hurting big time, drop a gear, and keep pushing. Half way up. Pain is just pain. I change to the small ring as I hit the really steep bit and just tough it out. A bit further, almost there... and a landrover comes around the corner. Wobble past him, top it out gasping, and hang a right to descend into Brighstone. What goes up must come down, and I pedal hard to reach 40 mph. The road is a bit hairy, but I am consciously practicing my descending technique, so I negotiate the corners a little too fast for comfort. Exciting. I haven't got time to feel breathless and I'm scooting through a deserted Upper Lane at 28 mph. Out the far end and join the main road towards Shorwell near The Countryman.
I push on, hard, hurting. The hedgerows speed by until we take a right at The Crown and start climbing out of the village. I can't afford to slow down, so I'm bobbing up and down keeping the big ring going. Past Bucks Farm at the crest of the hill and really stretch out the legs towards the T-junction. A right takes me towards Chale, and immediately the head wind doubles in strength. A few big drops of heavy rain fall on my bare arms.

I'm hitting a bad patch now, and I start to think about quitting.. or at least slowing down. Perhaps I should be taking it easy today? After all, I had a beer last night and was very late to bed. And I've trained hard this week. And I did the big 100 last Sunday. And no one will blame me or mind if I slacken off and take it easy until I'm home. No one will even know.

Pain is temporary. Quitting is forever. So I push a little harder.

Chale Green comes and goes and the road gradually rises as we head towards The Wight Mouse. The wind is really bugging me now, and I'm feeling bad. Just bad. I know the climb up Blackgang is approaching, and I wish it wasn't. But, anything worth achieving in this life is inevitably going to require commitment and a whole lot of hard yacca... so I tell myself how grrrrrrreat I feel.

Turn left, and start to climb the big hill. I keep up to 15 mph, around the first corner, then push to the Blackgang roundabout. Push pushing on, and grind around the knee-down corner. Almost there, past Viewpoint car park with the tourists and bikers enjoying the view, a cup of tea or an ice cream. I top her off, then really kick down the run into Niton, hitting 38 mph. Into the village, around the one-way system, right at the Spar, past the White Lion. Kick again.

HALF WAY. It's amazing what a boost you get when you know you're on the way home. Obviously I've got to start climbing back up the hill that I've just sped down, but it's head over the bars, bum planted on the saddle, and just keep the cadence going. No time to relax. My quads are burning as Viewpoint arrives again, then we start a really long descent. I'm returning on The Military Road this time, and now I've got some wind assistance. Oh bliss. It feels as if it's downhill as far as Whale Chine, and we're really motoring at about 28 mph. Lots of car traffic.

I tuck down again onto the bars and give it the treatment as I approach Atherfield. There's a long gentle climb towards the Dinosaur Museum and I can see another cyclist in the distance ahead. This spurs me on ... I'm going to catch him if I can. The road plateaus out and soon I can see all the way to Brighstone a mile and a half ahead. I'm gaining on my friend, and I just grit the teeth and give it a maximum effort for 5 minutes, not looking ahead, until my lungs are bursting and the spittle is flying. Past the Brighstone garage and its old National sign, the road is horribly bumpy. Matey is just ahead, so one final effort and I'm on his wheel. I turn the Pod off, cream past him, nod hello, and ask him if he wants to ride my wheel? Yes, of course he does, so I push on really hard past The Pearl Centre knowing he's getting a nice tow and I'm doing all the work. No matter. This is about pushing myself to the max..

The final couple of miles hurt badly, but a cup of tea is 5 minutes away. Just keep pushing, ignore the unpleasant sensation called agony and turn right at Brook Green into the village. It's uphill for the final half mile, but I just give it a full-on effort until my rubber band nearly snaps. I wobble into my drive, and climb off the bike. I slump over the crossbar gently heaving, sucking in great lung fulls of air. The sense of relief at finishing is wonderful.

22 miles in one hour 5 minutes is an average speed of 19.7 mph. Disappointed not to crack the 20 mark, but that was a good hard ride.

Pint of milk, a banana and a pot of tea.