Win Win Situations.

I needed to get my finger out and write this new post. I know that. The problem is as always, when you have the time to write, you have it because there's not alot going on, so there isn't so much to write about. When you're busy, and thinking 'this will make a great post' you're too busy to get round to it. Frustrating.

 

I want to start with something I am very proud of for 2015. Sponsorship isn't something that sits easily with the ethos of the Working Class Triathlete. It leans towards the embodiment of what (I believe) is wrong with the sport, helping to push fad products and gimmicks onto the mass of age groupers desperate to do (and spend) anything to help save them seconds as the race season looms.

 

With that in mind any sponsor that I considered would have to be pretty special in terms of what they can offer the sport, and as such it has never been something I have actively considered.

 

As anyone reading regularly will know, I came to triathlon through a love of open water swimming. When you get into a conversation about getting in Lakes / Rivers / Sea's then never far from the hit list of questions from the curious is 'dont you get ill?'. Of course that is a concern that you assess when you decide to attempt a swim, and you do everything you can - like not drinking the water & avoiding obvious pollution to negate any possible nasties, but you know there is always the unseen potential for pathogens to lurk in a natural body of water. At a new location with a 1 off swim it sometimes comes down to consoling yourself that a healthy persons immune system should be able to fight off the occassional exposure to a bug.

 

However, when you are training, week in / week out in a lake for the purpose of big competions then you have to take the cleanliness of the water seriously, and a blase attitude doesn't wash. Getting in your suit and diving in 2 or 3 times a week for a big session the last thing you want is to be worrying about getting the water in your system, on your skin, or in your eyes. You need to have absolute confidence in the water quality, and I am lucky to have a lake that takes Open Water Swimming seriously. In 5 years of regular training there I have never even got a sniffle from the place. This piece of mind is in no small measure down to the fact that our training lake is one of the few places around that take the time to have the water professionally tested on a monthly basis to ensure it passes stringent European standards for safe bathing water. Knowing it has that stamp of approval leaves me free to concentrate on the training, and not worry when its blowing a gale, the waters choppy and I've just swallowed a gallon or 2 that I will be laid up for a week after.

 

This testing is provided by a local company called Delta Simons. The MDs at the company are both fellow triathletes and are entering long distance events this year. The commercial director, Alex is a personal friend who completed the 24hr swim with me last year. They understand the sport.  As part of their complete Environmental Services package Delta Simons have a simple aim when it comes to helping out open water based events :

 

"Provide affordable recreational water testing to event organisers and venue operators,  providing single event and seasonal testing to EU and UK standards, ensuring that potential risks to swimmers and event participants are understood and managed."

Its obvious where this is going, but when the Working Class Triathlete team and Delta Simons got to talking it seemed a great opportunity for us both to work in partnership and a sponsorship deal has been forged off the back of that.

 

Delta Simons provide a unique service that is important to me, and my fellow athletes, ensuring we can race safely in some amazing locations. They are not selling a gimmick or a fad, they are taking care of peoples health, intrinsic to the long term well being of the sport. With their support I have got some great improvements to my range of kit which has freed up much needed funds to channel where I have always said it should be spent first - on events. Hopefully those extra events can all help to improve my form for the big A Races, and get the name of Delta Simons out to a wider applicable audience.

 

If theirs is a service that you think you might be able to benefit from then please take the time to look at their website and get in touch. http://www.deltasimons.com/  - to all my subscibers around the world, DS are UK based, but offer a global network solution.

 

Off the back of the on-site testing at our local lake and confirmation from Delta Simons that :

 

"The bathing water quality at the Site is Excellent as defined in the Bathing Water Quality Directive 2006/7/EC."

 

They now also sponsor a 5 race aquathon series there, which is great for some friendly transition practice racing through-out the season. Just Google 'Delta Simons Aquathon' for more info.

 

Talking of kit, having a nearly teenage daughter who has also got into Triathlon has been great, but also mighty expensive in terms of additional expense. Children have a habit of growing.... and I've learnt that the gear doesn't fit for long, and unlike my more functional approach a 12 year old girl definitely does care what it looks like. That pressure has made me very proficient at sourcing great deals off various websites such as eBay/Gumtree and pre-loved. After bagging a really nice road bike for her after christmas, picking it up for £180 with about 50 miles at most in the tyres and would have cost me £1000 in the shops, I have, this last few months been sourcing another new tri suit and wetsuit for this season.

 

The secret is to be patient, and set a limit. I also spend alot of time deliberately seaching for mis-spelt or badly advertised items. Like anything, when you are involved you know whats good, and get a feel for the better quality items. People selling these for a friend or a relative with a degree of ambivalence often overlook the more important nuances of advertising the item that an enthusiast would deem important, and this is where you can cash in.

 

By pouring over pages for items related to 'trithalon' (notice the deliverate mis spell) I managed to find a race suit that looked like a brand new top quality piece of kit. There was no mention of the brand, or really what the suit was for, other than 'selling for my daughter who left it under her bed when she moved out' the vendor seemed to not care, BUT on the 1 blurred photo of the piece the 2 things I could spot were the tags still intact on the suit, meaning it was new, and some lettering saying '226'. That told me enough to take a punt. £10.50 - including postage, and a 3 day wait later the suit arrived. As hoped, it was a brand new ORCA 226 Race suit, ladies small, the cheapest I can buy it online new in a shop being £96.00.

 

I applied the same principles to the wetsuits, and a few weeks later was likewise rewarded with another unopened Speedo Tri Elite ladies suit for £16.00 including postage, that  I couldn't get for less than £280 in the shops. A very happy daughter, and an even happier Martin. £1026.50 worth of essential gear for an enthusiastic youngster all for £206.50. A saving of £820. Boom!

 

Remember, be patient, dont over pay and look carefully over multiple sites at the worst advertised items. Some sites still let people list without images - they are always worth messaging for more info, because 99% of people cant be bothered.

 

                                       High end bargains for the seasons start.

 

And so, with all this talk of kit, it's onto what counts. Training.

 

As the weather has eased slightly, and the mornings have got lighter it has made this last month a lot easier to get out on the road. After a winter in the pool and the garage on the turbo the cold fresh mornings on the road alone, but for the bare hedgerows are refreshing. You can see a bit more spring everyday. Strangely now the clocks have gone back it makes it a bit more awkward for a few weeks, as I have to curtail the now routine 5:30am big bricks and bikes, while the sunrise catches up again. Still, by 6am its still light enough to see a good distance and training continues unabated.

 

Getting into a routine of training at 05:30am has its drawbacks. Not least, waking the family doesn't go down well. By 9pm you are ready for bed, to sleep. That also draws occassional (understandable) complaints. The upside, as I start to up the intensity as race season approaches, is that I am seeing gains, and you start to feel like it is all coming together, and might, just might, have been worth the bother.

 

After going pop on the big bike 6 or more weeks back, I had been keen to get a few more similar sessions in and sweep that mishap under the carpet, and start experimenting more with nutrition that works to avoid a repeat of the fail. After coming home from a busy week in Ireland with work I decided that a full half iron brick was in order. I nearly didn't do it out of trepidation, but by holding a heart rate on the bike, and going straight into a 13mile run I was chuffed to come home off the jog in 1hr 29min post 52 mile ride. Much better than I had expected.

 

That motiviated the next week of training, followed by another impromptu 70.3 with a friend a week last saturday. We over-egged the bike to compensate for not swimming, and even a strong headwind and steady uphill constant climb for the last 25 miles didnt stop us sticking home an 18mph average in the saddle, with the feeling through-out that there was plenty more in the tank.

 

Through out the ride I was taking in a homemade conconcotion of fuel and liquid. This really paid dividends when we pulled on our trainers and sprinted out the first 2 miles on a 6:05 min mile average. Backing off a bit and settling in I felt strong to the end, and comfortable that the nutrition plan is where it needs to be. This was really highlighted when Jon, my fellow bricker that morning, took to the ride with only 1/2 a bottle of blackcurrent squash for company. Jon is racing in Geneva for GB in June, and a very capable athlete who out-bikes me with ease. He has a strong base endurance more than ample for his Olympic distance Euro race, and I knew he would be a good guage of my form.

 

However, off the bike and into the run the lack of fuel took its toll on him. He resolutely refused to walk, but admitted freely that not topping up the tank on route rung him out, and the last 3 or 4 miles of the run he felt weak, dizzy and suffered a rapid decline in pace, and, more crutially, outlook. The small little voice creeping into the mind saying 'I can't keep this up, this is grim, I'm wet, I'm cold, I'm bored of this' is the last place you want to be if you have to find a final 5 mile hard push for the line when you can see the gap closing either in front or behind you. That small little voice of doubt and deflation is infinately harder to beat than tired legs...... Like all good athletes he came away pleased that he had taken some valuable lessons from the day, and the collective effort was still cracking. Even in suffering he found a way to take a win from the experience and ensure it improves him.

 

I am now really looking forward to the Half Iron proper at the end of May. Doing the distances regularly is preparing the legs, and building confidence that I can achieve it, and helps to cement how it will be paced and where my strengths and weaknesses lie. Again mental preperation and visualisation is the key. Im really quite excited about the race.

 

Training over the longer distances is hard, not because of the effort required, but the time it guzzles. Again, that's where the early mornings and a variety of training partners really helps. If you can find people in a similar position to yourself who have similar goals, but also commitments, and need to spend time with family at the weekend as well as riding and running the hills of the County then you can use each other to great effect to motivate and encourage. Its much easier to get up at 5am in the rain when you know there are others waiting for you down the road to join the set.

 

The hardest bit of training right now is remembering what the important races are. It's 3 weeks yesterday to my first race, No 1 of the 3 Midland Sprints. These were only entered to get race experience, and resisting the urge to add speed in for them and focusing on training through them, and that they are 'just for fun' has been hard. Setting myself up for a best possible performance in them though is incompatible with Middle and Iron distances. As the saying goes "No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other". Knowing I won't have that top end speed is hard, but hopefully showing discipline now will pay dividends down the line when it counts.

 

Finally for now, yesterday brought an unexpected treat. I had the privelage of attending a brutal little Cross Country event called the '6.66km Devil of a Cross Country' that had a select field of around 50 invitation only athletes from the wider local running and triathlon community attending. It stood to be good company and good sport, and the promise of a cup of soup and real sausage in a bun after meant it was an event not to be missed.

 

So after winding forward the clocks, hitting the pool at 8am for an hour, home for a quick change and back out the door I found myself at 10:15am shivering on the start line, in the wind and the rain of a muddy farmers field in the midst of the Lincolnshire Wolds. The whistle went and the battle commenced, the next 4 miles saw waist deep puddles, haybales, sheep, sharp thorny hedgerows, fields of thick mud and vertical hills that required an 'on all fours' approach to scramble up. A couple of wrong turns added a few extra 100m's to the effort, but by the end, with the unique warm glow you only get from exercising hard out of doors in the cold I found myself crossing the line first by just shy of a full 4 minutes on the 2nd placed man. I hadnt expected it, so it was a nice little bonus to start the season.

 

                           
                     Not very flattering, but win 1 of the season for Team Delta Simons.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Unexpected End.

 

We're into February already, and after a solid back end and good January I knew I was going to lose a few weeks at the start of this month on an 'acclimatisation' trip to India. Back now, but that's made February look pretty tatty in the stats and made me focus on making up some lost ground.

 

Walking around early in the morning and seeing the extreme poverty certainly made me grateful for the opportunities we have over here, but once you get past the dirt and the noise then the people are some of the friendliest and most resourceful I have ever met.

 

There is a term in India called 'Jugaad' which loosely translates as 'an innovative fix or a simple work-around, used for solutions that bend rules, or a resource that can be used as such, or a person who can solve a complicated issue'. Seeing how this was employed in all walks of life out of necessity, but also considered a Noble ideal to be strived towards - rather than simply throwing things away and replacing them with new items like we do over here has motivated me more than ever to try and translate this into Triathlon.

Aim for 2015, to squeeze every little bit of use out of all the kit and equipment I have, and employ a bit of initiative where possible to get round any issues I encounter.

 

There's a couple of things really worth focusing on I think from my time there that are of interest to the Triathlete.

 

The first is the traffic. How anybody trains for the bike section is beyond me. The roads are perpetually choked with all manner of vehicles, people and animals. This included one day where we encountered and nearly crashed into 2 elephants walking the wrong way down the motorway. Nobody batted an eyelid.

Dodge that.

 

As a Westerner the apparent dangers at every turn were neither here nor there to the locals, who navigated deftly between the tuck-tucks and cows, their bikes stacked to the rafters with whatever it was they were selling that day.

 

Everybody there has to have quick reactions & common sense in abundance to survive, and while a lot of what passes as acceptable is potentially down right dangerous I couldn't help but think a bit of middle ground would be great, if only we could adopt some of the personal responsibility in the UK that is expected there.

 

If only we could strip away some of the excess nanny state safety concerns and clip board rules exercised in every event we participate in. Want to weave in and out of the traffic like a lunatic to gain a few seconds? No problem mate, but there's no blame on us if you hurt yourself. I'd love an event like that.

 

The actual bikes all seemed standard issue, with an iron frame & big heavy steel stand on the back - that combined with the ability to weave and dodge like they do makes me think that if any of them has the opportunity or inclination to compete they would breeze it when suddenly presented with a Tri bike and pair of trainers. I'd certainly be all ears if I ever have the opportunity to have a bike handling skills course off an Indian.

 

I did see 1 man in Lycra on a road bike, at 5:30am on Sunday morning. It was already busy, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. He didn't stop, but I would have loved to have got the opportunity to have spoken with him.

 Aero ladies 'essentials' was one of the more unusual bike balancing acts to pass by. Might offer some protection in a crash though.

 

 

Safety rules are negligible across the continent, from the roads, to restaurants & building sites. It was common place to see bamboo scaffolding, and welding in shops without any goggles. It was also bizarrely common to see missing lamp posts with live wires sparking away in the pavement. 

 

Most people cannot afford, or choose not to use a crash helmet on their bikes. One of the few people we did see wearing one I managed to photograph below, and they held me transfixed, lost between amusement and bewilderment. His wife had a scarf round her head, the infant had bright yellow cheap plastic sunglasses on. Don't worry though, the main thing was he was OK..... in full leather jacket and helmet. That kind of selfish dedication would translate to absolute success in triathlon. The athlete has all the kit, and the family go without......

 

 

 

 

Don't walk........RUN.

 

Crossing the road was like playing an extreme version of chicken every time. The signs seem to make the expectations on the pedestrian clear. LEG IT.

 

If the infrastructure made the training a challenge, then the food more than made up for the risks on the road. I have researched and considered becoming a vegetarian athlete for a long time, and have read the published advise of several very successful Ironmen who swear by a vegan diet. As such I avoid a lot of meat, but we do indulge, however the food on offer in India has given me a new perspective and motivation in this respect.

 

The first 5 days we were staying less than 1km from the home of Ghandi. Out of enduring respect for him the whole region has outlawed meat and alcohol. The beer I didn't even notice was missing for the first 3 days, but what immediately stuck out was how innovative & amazingly tasty the food was. This isn't a food blog, but in terms of achieving protein requirements the most delicious street snack definitely worth mentioning was called Chana Chor Garam.

 

Served in a piece of folded up paper - what looks like oats is actually rolled and pressed chick peas. Tossed with freshly chopped onion, coriander leaves and tomato with a healthy splash of spice and a squeeze of lemon / lime and some fresh chilli, this stuff was bursting with vitamins, minerals & protein, incredibly filling - and tasty as hell. We have already re-created it once since I've been back, and it certainly worked admirably as a strenuous post training recovery fuel. (More about that below).

 

After getting back home the first thing I realised (or maybe was politely reminded of) was I had forgotten to add the next sections to 3 of the Workingclasstriathlete's Training Programs. They had all covered the missing week with dedication regardless, and my apologies again to each of you. This was all the more important to them as we now begin to move into the next phase of training, increasing some intensity, and levelling off the volume ready to ramp it up for their first races in 10 to 12 weeks time.

 

All have made brilliant gains, and after working hard through the difficult dark mornings and nights at their base phases they should all now begin to see even greater gains in their performance.

 

Onto my own training. Since getting back I have managed some runs in a new pair of barefoot trainers I have been breaking in. I will save the feedback on them for another post, but little and often seems the key to adaptation to that style of running while the muscles conform.

 

I had expected to lose a bit of form during my break. I didn't help myself by thinking I was clever. Trying to side step the inevitable Delhi Belly I thought coming my way I spent a week before eating even more than normal, putting on weight so that I could let nature takes its course and lose it again while over there.

 

Only problem with that plan was it didn't happen. Quite the opposite, I got bound up. By the end I was even drinking the local water to try and loosen things up. Didn't happen.

 

And so back to the grind stone nearly half a stone heavier. Not to worry, a couple of short runs, a couple of decent swims in the week, and a Pilates class got things moving again. The weights coming back off, and I was surprised to find that I hadn't really lost any form. I even managed a 5:40 400m (mid set) yesterday, which is the best of the year to date. All of this reminded me that despite taking regular rest weeks every 4th week of the training cycle it is still easy to over train and fatigue the muscles. A good long rest can often be beneficial.

 

With all that in mind I was keen to get out on the bike and put down some decent mileage this morning (I certainly haven't missed the sweaty turbo). Waking up and looking out the window, the weather was foggy, but lifting. I would have sacked it off for a Sunday lay in, but Sarah kindly gave me the nudge I needed. 

 

Fog - Nothing a few sets of decent lights and the fluorescent orange safety tights wouldn't fix. I got dressed like an excited child, took the wife a fresh coffee in bed, necked one myself, filled my bottle with squash and rushed out to prep the beast. After getting it set up to my satisfaction, sorting out my clobber, helmet, gloves and bag I set out on a hilly 70 miler.

 

From the off the legs felt good and strong. By 20 miles in I was hitting just over a 20mph average even with muddy roads and junctions to hamper progress, and began entertaining thoughts of putting down a 10k run when I got home. I certainly felt like I had plenty in the tank.

 

The fog lifted, and after passing rashes of delicate little snowdrops and the odd daffodil as I plowed along I was enjoying the contrast of the heat and the dust of the week before, and the conditions back home. The road was quite wet and slippy from muddy patches in places and the poor bike was earning its keep. I stopped for a quick comfort break and drink of juice.

 

Lovely morning. At this point.......

 

As I drank the juice and prepared to re-saddle I suddenly felt quite hungry. It's then that it occurred to me I had forgotten breakfast. A quick rummage in the bag and I then realised I had forgotten to pack any gels or food too. No matter, I was feeling good, and pressed on regardless.

 

Whenever I go on a longer ride I try to incorporate family safehouse's along the way, in case anything is needed, or goes wrong. To that end my parents home was a passing point at about 40 miles. The hunger got worse and I began to notice the demand on my muscles getting harder without the porridge that should have been in my belly, but was instead still sat in the cupboard at home. I finished my juice to sustain me - safe in the knowledge that I could stock up at Woodhall and there was more than a passing chance my Mum would shake up a sausage sandwhich.

 

I pulled up and clipped out the pedals, parked the bike round the back... Dam it.... the door was locked. A glance through the windows confirmed nobody was home. Not only that, I knew it meant they had all gone to Norfolk. Nobody was turning up any time soon.

 

With little choice I turned back to the saddle, my legs now aching, and a shower of rain to soak me.

 

I steeled myself and pushed on up the unrelenting but very steady climb back towards the Wolds. I was starving and my energy levels fading, and try as I might I couldn't shake that reality from my mind. Mental discipline is hard when it is obviously you are fading. I focused on the fact that I only had to get another 9 miles and my sisters home would nourish me.....

 

9 miles of tough grind later in an effort to maintain the pace I had established early in the ride, I pulled into the drive having given away a good few miles per hour, and now struggling to hold between 17 and 18 mph.

 

Again nobody was in. This time I was gutted. I had be visualising a big hot warm mug of sugary tea to revive me, getting warm while my Nieces and their brain damaged dog jumped around and entertained me with their antics. As a good cook too, I also had to let go of the hope of a butty of some kind to re invigorate me while I found the last 20 miles to home.

 

And so I set out again. At this point I began to notice a rapid decline. I was bleeding miles per hour with every passing click. I had no energy, and the wet of my clothes wasn't shifting. I simply couldn't pedal fast or hard enough to generate enough heat to warm myself. For the first time ever in my life I was pedalling as hard as I could and still shivering, cold to the core. I felt more like I was ice swimming that cycling.

 

Looking at the speedo I realised I was down to 15 mph. I wasn't enjoying this, and it was still getting worse. Head down. Push on. Where was the trusty aero banana when I needed one? If only I hadn't guzzled all my juice.... I was getting dizzy and noticing my reactions slowing.

 

And so, at mile 55 I bowed out. I stopped and I called Sarah. She hopped in the car to fetch me. I pedalled on, a miserable slow example of myself, an embaressment to the kind of kit I was wearing. A man in full lycra and aero helmet doing 12 miles per hour is not a cool sight. I was pleased when she pulled up and put me out of my misery.

 

I lobbed the bike in the boot, and she gave me a kiss and thanked me for being sensible. I was glad I had been. I have learnt a valuable lesson. More haste, less speed. As keen and excited as I was to get out I shouldn't have let that excitement stop me planning properly, and a massive part of that planning is fuelling correctly.

 

Energy levels have never bothered me before. I always feel tired after a race, but have never crashed and burned to the point of absolute fatigue like that before. With a Middle distance and a couple of Irons round the corner though, this has been a valuable lesson.

 

I now know how little of the required ground I could cover without properly fuelling before and during. I also know how quickly things can turn. Once you are spent you are spent unless you can keep replacing what you are burning, things can go from good to bad over very little ground. This has been a good lesson to learn. To go from thinking I had more in the tank and getting psyched up to do a long brick when I got back to failing completely inside 30 miles is something that nobody with half a brain would want to repeat.

 

Home, a long hot shower and some home-made soup later, coupled with a quick 30 minutes resting the eyes in the chair put me right. That, and an afternoon snack of the Chana Chor Garam I mentioned before and there is no harm done, except to my ego. Honestly that snack is the business. It put me right as rain in no time, properly filling, easy to digest, full of what was in need of replacement and not a string of meat in sight.

 

It would have been different if I was sat here now writing this having blown the entry fee to a big race because of my stupidity. That said, before I went pop things felt great and that has given me confidence for the season ahead.

 

Train smart friends.

 

 

 

 

P.S. A final little treat of a video for you, for anyone thinking of getting their toddler into riding bikes. 

 

 

 

 SAFETY FIRST.



Intelligent Racing

With the inevitable post Christmas and New Year lull it is always good to have a few events in the pipeline to focus the mind and keep the interest. To that end the Annual Ice Swimming Championships at Parliament Hill have been earmarked since the summer for this purpose.

 

Having been involved in Ice Swimming for a few years now I am aware of the training benefits, such as making the open water swims easier come summer, the mental discipline etc etc, but if I am honest it isn't about that. The truth is its fun. It's a really good atmosphere, full of decent people and some good sport thrown in. It makes the most of an otherwise miserable time of year that can hinder training, turns it on its head and makes the most of what we have.

 

A niche sport such as this is tight knit, and you quickly get to know, and get known among the regular competitors. From The Lake District to the South Coast there is a hard core of the same faces at the events, and some of these faces are regular winners. Off the back of a successful run to Windermere last winter, and a previous trip to Parliament Hill I was keen to pick up the mantle of our fallen comrade Paul Fowler and build a worthy contingent in his memory, to revisit The PHISH and put right what was lost there last year. I had a plan to take an army, an army of unknowns, and challenge the accepted order.

 

About the same time the invites went out we had a new man appearing at Louth Tri Club called Craig. A friendly bloke who took people on face value - I struck while the iron was hot, and he was still naïve to my workings. After googling his form and discovering he was an ex GB 1500m man I set about the charm offensive, and in the heat of the summer he cracked and agreed to enter the Cold Water Swimming Champs, oblivious to the pain he had just subscribed to.

 

With my race plan in mind, I now had the base around which to build the team. Deliberately earmarking myself as the weakest link I set about recruiting Jp Hemmings and Suzy Hegg too. Timing my run fresh off  the high of the 24hr Swim success where they had both been in relay teams - Jp had also just bagged his first Iron Man. Suzy was breaking records and hauling back gold's from across the country in masters for her county, with Jp also putting in similar swim performances on top of his triathlon successes. They agreed without quibble. Now it was just about being patient until the weather turned, and we could start training.

 

We had the relay team sorted. I was never winning gold solo, but now I had given myself a seriously good chance of sharing the spoils of a relay win.

 

On top of the relay team we had another relay team taking part headed up by The Ice Miler extraordinaire Alex 'The Walrus' Ferguson. Alex has started a winter season of serious Triathlon training for his first attempt at a half iron in May, and so I was keen to see how he got on now the weight had started dropping off and the focus had shifted from serious cold water swimming as his primary aim.

 

And so we all met at Parliament Hill Lido, bright eyed and cold, ready to race on a frosty Saturday morning in January. 8 largely unknowns and their entourage, in our collection of home spun gear, surrounded by a sea of Dry Robes (the Ice Swimmers clothing of choice) and eccentric swimwear. We slipped nicely under the radar of suspicion as we entered..... by simply not looking too flash.

 

After a quick welcoming speech the races were underway. Parliament Hill is a grade 2 listed building built in the early 1930s, refurbished in places, a beautiful & unique pool a daunting 61m in length. With a dark steel lining throughout the underneath and sides that reflects the heat in the summer and the Cold in the winter the water temperature was confirmed as a respectable 4.4 degrees celsius. I overheard a lady say it was like swimming in a fridge. That seems a pretty good analogy. Last year I entertained that it was like swimming in space. Freezing, dark, and strangely sterile in the cold. Now I prefer the fridge thinking.

 

At 61m in length the standard race distances here are 122m, 244m and an invite only endurance race of 1000m before a relay of 4x61m. The shorter distances were mixed heats with male and female finals, the enduro and relays being heats only with the winning times extrapolated.

 

A whopping 61m of open air fun!

 

Lining up for the start.

 

 

We got lucky that none of us clashed in the heats, and I took to the poolside first for the 122m with Craig in the same lane, in the heat straight after me, him again followed by Jp. Competitors announced, we disrobed and jumped in for the off the wall start.

 

Suddenly in and cold, the realisation that you are here, in the pool ready to go dawns on you. The early mornings getting up to swim in a lake in preparation. The cold showers, this is what it was all for. That focuses the mind, the time put in, it would be remiss to squander the investment put in to get here.

With heart racing, a sudden blast of adrenalin, struggling to calm the breathing from the shock of the cold, the horn sounds. Head down, push off... resisting the urge to gasp for breath, and swim, swim hard. I had decided that as it had the feeling of a 25m pool I would swim it like it was one. And so I set off at my 50m sprint pace. The more distance I could get behind me before the cold set in the better. I would deteriorate regardless in this 4degrees, so it may as well be nearer the end than not. Arms turning over rapidly to generate heat and propulsion, the cold seems to make the water seem clearer but also thicker, like swimming in syrup, as you feel the chill seeping into your muscles while they fight to work as hard as they know they should be.

At 61m the pool should look long, but it doesn't, maybe its a trick of the eye with it being outdoors, but it seems only to be similar to our regular 25m at home. That said, once in and under the surface, it seems to take an age to swim the first 61m. Looking around I have established a comfortable second as we approach the wall. I fall into the trap of racing in heats that I have experienced before. With no chance of first, and holding on to 2nd I don't push myself as hard as I should, forgetting the bigger picture, that I am also racing people in other heats that I cannot see around me. The same is true in triathlon, and I need to remember that. When I find myself alone in the bike or the run, there may be some invisible individual on my shoulder, within a fraction of my time, just starting in a different wave. Like racing the ghost data in Mariokart. Always push hard just in case. Always.  Half way back at around the 90m mark the pace drops off as the chill takes its toll, making it hard to keep performing at 100% effort. The legs feel sluggish as they acclimatise to the first race of the day. I finish my heat 2nd.

 

Quickly pulling on my robe I avoid the sauna for a re warm to stand and cheer on the other racers. As Craig jump in this sets a pattern for the day. The pattern of him abusing me as he enters and again when he exits at the agony of the cold, and roping him in to the stupidity of the event. This anger makes it all worthwhile. I have successfully bullied a grown man into freezing his proverbials off. I can tell he is loving it really.

After his first race it is apparent he is is going to wipe the floor with the competition. Jp takes his turn, and fly's from the blocks. A man of near zero fat he had really felt the cold in training and I remain impressed and motivated at his resolve to see it through and race his events. Of everyone on the day he looked to suffer the most. Comparing the results afterwards he had beaten me by just under half a second in our times, and I knew I would live to regret easing off because I wasn't being pushed in my heat.

 

The finals were announced and sure enough I missed them by 1 place. No matter, we had 2 of the Shires finest in the men's final and Suzy in the ladies. Craig romped to an easy 1st, but Jp to his immense credit touched level with him for first place at the half way point. It was in the final stretch the cold got to him, and hampered him badly. It was a prime example of the punishing effects the conditions can have on our bodies. Suzy quietly determined, got stuck into her final and was rewarded with a solid second. A great initial result for the team.
 

Jp post 122m final

 

Next was the 244m. Jumping in this time the body was more accepting of its fate, knowing it was in there for at least as twice as long as the last time. Pacing myself from the off I again found myself in a comfortable second after holding level with the lead to the first turn. He was much larger than me, and as the cold took its toll his padding paid dividends. He pulled easily away. Turning for the 2nd time was hard, knowing it was only half way. Focusing on maintaining stroke and reminding myself that as an endurance athlete this was about mental strength, and the cold was only superficial I ground it out and held on to come home 2nd again.

 

Shivering for home.

 

 

The effort earnt me spot 7 of 8 in the final. This immediately brought delight from Alex as he had beaten me in the heats by around 2 seconds. He had placed 5th. A competitive man to the end, I could see the glint of delight in his eye at the prospect of a final with me, and mutual banter ensued. It was suddenly like standing in transition.

 

Getting back in for another 244m so soon after the heats was painful. I almost entertained dropping out of the race, but ashamed of myself at the thought I plunged back in on the whistle, my body flinching like a poke in the eye from the shock. With Craig in spot one, and Alex further up the rankings we had put up another tremendous effort, filling 1/3 of the final places with our team. That thought in mind made me resolve to give it my best shot.

 

This time I went out harder, pacing against lane 6 between Alex and myself. I could see The Walrus pulling steadily away from the off, his big paw like strokes frothing the water 2 lanes across, and so held onto the shoulder of the lane 6 man instead for 3 lengths, trading a nose in front throughout. On the 4th length the cold was biting badly, eating away at the strength in my arms. I could see them moving, but could no longer feel my hands or my feet. This is where regular exposure and training paid dividends. The experience was nothing new and could be dismissed from my mind. To fight for the mini victory I would have to kick like hell. So as he turned it up in the final 50m I started to do just that. With every movement I could feel energy from deep within being spent, the water sucking the heat from the muscles the harder they worked. Heat that couldn't be replaced. I was now getting cold to the core. Still he pulled away.

 

My mind turned to the relay in 20minutes time and for the first time in my life in the midst of the battle I considered the bigger picture. I could kill myself to claim this small victory, or I could remember the effort I put in to construct a killer relay team some months back. They were all here, and on form, I needed to play my part and have the reserves to do so. With that in mind, and 10metres from the end I let it go. I came in 6th, with Alex in 4th. We had both climbed a place up from our initial placing in the final, and I had taken 5 seconds off my heats time. Craig had taken another easy 1st. Again all in all a pleasing result.

 

Relays. 15 minutes later, no time to rewarm properly, I found myself standing at the shallow end waiting to begin. I was shivering. Distracting ourselves as best we could, I spent the time waiting for the start by visualising the race. The stroke, the form, feeling the water in my catch as I moved through the water, kicking for all I was worth. Finishing. This was the last race, it was time to leave everything in the pool.

 

The horn sounded - the still of the water erupting as Craig plowed down the lane towards me. It was all about timing now. Getting in at just the right moment to be ready, but not to be floating there cold. I jumped in when he had 20m to go. Immersed, composed. His hand hit the wall and I was off. A big push and a kick and into the stroke. Turning the arms rapidly, and settling into each catch with all the force I could muster. I could see there was nobody around me. No easing off this time, pull harder. Kick harder, breath harder. There was no turn. Just one straight swim, wringing myself out in the process. My sole thought was to increase the gap I had been handed, and give Jp and Suzy something to build on. This one felt good, and I barely noticed the cold. Hitting the line with my hand and Jp was off at full bore as I climbed out to cheer him, and then Suzy for home. By now we were a good 40m ahead of the nearest competition, Suzy stretching the lead throughout. 

 

We went to warm up as the next heats were held. Then we dressed as it was announced that the relays were close. A few teams in the next heat had put in some fast times, they wouldn't announce it until after the Endurance. We dressed and cheered Alex as he entered the blue ribband event. Only accessible by prior approval and sign off due to the extreme nature of the endeavour.

 

The Walrus. Purple hatted, and a nose in front.

 

Watching the endurance event it is easy to forget how it must feel for them. With all swimming it often looks so graceful and calm from the surface, but when you are there, underneath, in the mix, only then does it seem so desperate and frantic. Heaven above. Hell below. This is magnified exponentially in the cold. Not only are you racing, you are fighting the elements and the drive to give up at every breath. It is a true test of mental over physical resolve. I know it was beyond me at this event having competed in the previous 3 races. Watching Alex take this on after the 244m heat then straight back in for the final and then the relay I was impressed at the way he tackled it. A strong even pace though out. He finished in the top 10 of 50+. Great result, even if his mouth was so numb he was unable to speak afterwards.

 

The racing done, it was time for the presentations. After a day of every weather, swimming in rain, wind, sleet and snow, the sun had come out for the endurance event, and began to dip behind the buildings as the rewards were claimed.

 

It was brilliant to see Craig as an unknown come in and clean up. He took the mens 122m and 244m Gold. You could see this threw the established old guard, unsure of where he had come from, or if he would return. You almost felt sorry for the hotly tipped favourite who now had a beautiful if un expected collection of Silvers!

 

Suzy collected her Silver for the Ladies 122m and then we were onto the relays.

 

Needless to say - The Lincolnshire Elite had won. Not only that, but by a massive 12 seconds over our nearest rivals. Of 31 relay teams entered our other team had also come 6th. Another fantastic result. Collecting the win is a reminder of how good it feels to get the results, and it gives me a renewed motivation to push harder in the training for the season ahead.

 

 

 



Nice touch on the gold winning caps.

 

 

Home, and I sit writing this off the back of a frosty morning run with the dog. On reflection over breakfast and coffee I know that the ice swimming community is a small, but special one. I have learnt something from everyone that I shared the day with, be it to always expect the unexpected (Craigs effect on the meeting) to the personal determination and resolve of people like Jp who genuinely suffered the effects of the cold, but still embraced the day and performed incredibly regardless. Alex who doesn't understand the concept of physical limits and would push on to death if required. I need to also mention James who injured his ankle badly in the week, but still swam regardless in the 122, and also for the good of the relay team. And Lesley, who doubted her own ability, but still rose to the challenge of the relay and has come away wishing she had competed in more and is now making noises about an ice mile. Then there is the family & friends who come to support, re warm us, cheer us and get behind the competitors all the way. It is special they can be bothered to back us (and feed us) :-).

 

Finally I have learnt that as I get older it pays dividends to plan ahead, and understand where your strengths lie. In this case it was the people I know and surround myself with. They motivate and encourage me, and by gentle persuasion they agreed to help me to my best chance of gold. And they delivered. All in all a great day out where the warmth of the people and the atmosphere shares an inverse relationship to the temperature of the pool.

 

Fun over, its time to look forward to a 2015 of Sprints, Olympic, Middle Distance and Full Irons, and (hopefully) similar results!

 



Learning Curves.

I wish I’d had the sense to take more photos yesterday. It would have made today’s blog all the more interesting, but I didn’t, I didn’t think until it was too late, so I’m sorry.

 

 

This being the first year I have really bashed the Turbo Trainer - following a prang last year that saw me bust a rib and my shoulder (that’s never been the same since) after hitting the deck on an icy road at 20mph, I have been keen to get out and see how much of an investment (or disaster) the garage based training has been. Its been 10 weeks since I last stretched it out on the road, my longest abstinence for a long time.....

 

 

A decent 65 mile ride with a friend was the plan. We are pretty similar pace over distance on the bike, so assuming all things were even with him it would be a good assessment for me as to my current form.  Despite the wind we met up bright and early and headed out into the hills of the Wolds. The first 7 or 8 miles were tough. The bike felt twitchy and different to what I had become accustomed to, and I certainly didn’t enjoy the climbs. I quickly convinced myself that the turbo was a disaster and my form had gone. I also noticed early on that my heart was working a lot harder on the road than the equivalent effort on the turbo, not that it minded. It wasn’t pounding like a jack hammer in my chest so as to be unmanageable, but it was definitely a good 10bpm higher throughout the ride than I would have expected. I've decided I think the lack of sweat pouring profusely from you when you are physically moving due to evaporation, makes a big difference physiologically, and maybe just even that alone stops you working as hard when static?

 

 

By 8 miles I had settled in. We had a few good steady climbs under our belt and got our heads down. Olly, being much taller than me was suffering in the persistent and powerful headwind,  jutting up out of his bike like a windsurfers sail. I decided to go easy on myself and given the quite rough conditions that we were forcing ourselves headlong in to, to not be too quick to judge the turbo as detrimental, and just enjoy it for what it was.

 

 

Then at mile 12 Oliver unexpectedly declared himself out. At first I thought it was simply an excuse, and he didn’t fancy battling another 20 miles of this before the route changed direction and we got some assistance from the gusts rather than this battering, but on inspection it was apparent his back tyre had popped. Not just the inner tube – the tyre was worn through. There was a quick admission that he had been using the tyre on the turbo, and it had taken its toll. I posted a few weeks back about a friends tyre spraying rubber in the shed, and I’ve experienced it myself at home. Now, having seen the damage it does first hand when the tyre is subjected to the tarmac, I have all the evidence required never to use my road tyres on the machine.

 

So there we were stood in the middle of nowhere, except for the badly injured owl that was laid on the road half squashed just behind us, scratching our heads..... and I waited, expecting the back up kit to come out so we could enjoy some impromptu roadside bike maintenance. But there was no spare tyre to be conjured. (I didn’t have one either - but my actual tyre is near enough brand new). There were 2 inner tubes, several inflator canisters and a host of tools and first aid kit on my back - If only he had come off in the wind and knocked some sense into his head we'd have been sorted). I did notice Olly had thoughtfully forgotten to remove his mini pump from its home at the base of his seat post however. Useful. 

 

Next up the admission that he hadn’t brought his phone either. As it's Christmas I thought it best to be friendly, and decided to let him borrow mine. That was a faff, it meant taking my gloves off, my fingers going numb to the wind chill and clatting about disconnecting my headphones. It was worth the fuss though when he then had to admit he didn’t know his Girlfriends phone number (who he has lived with for a couple of years I might add), so he called his dad to ask him what her number was. He didn’t know either. It was starting to look like he was stuck.  

 

 

While this was going on a couple of other friends biked past & stopped, one pouring with an impossible amount with sweat given the conditions. When they stopped and I noticed that, it made me realise how cold I had become. This wind was stripping me to the bone of any heat. I hadn’t really layered up as much as I could have, working on the premise that it would encourage me to pedal harder to generate warmth. With the other 2 now present I seized the opportunity to declare my cycle partner a write off, and they joined in with some casual abuse.

 

 

And so we wished him luck walking home alone.  It seemed only fair given his gratuitous personal negligence - it would give him time, walking 12 miles in cleats, in the cold and the wind, to contemplate his failings. I bid him farewell, the other 2 cleared off as well, and once back in the saddle I found myself alone on the Bluestone Heath Ridge, in the pummelling wind.

 

 

A few times it blew so hard that I nearly ended up in the ditch. The rear wheel disc (mentioned in the previous post) acting as a sail, and forcing the back end all over the road. I was enjoying the challenge.

View from the Ridge.

 

 

This continued unrelenting until mile 34. At that point the course changed, and it gave me some assistance. In terms of the turbo, I had had plenty of time to assess my form during those miles. It was hard to tell if it has helped my power or pace, but certainly my endurance was strong. Given the effort of cycling into 25+mph winds it dawned on me I still had plenty in the tank for the mostly steadily uphill 31mile climb to home. A big plus for the indoor work done. Again I got my head down and enjoyed it for what it was.

 

 

There were a few back wind /down hills going home, steep and ferocious affairs. Thundering down them, barely in control, belly on the seat, backside mm’s from the rear wheel, chin on the aero bars. Blind from the wind. Adrenalin surging. An overdue reminder that that’s why we cycle.

 

 

Home in just over 3hrs. Averaging 18.5mph. I wouldn’t leave the road out so long again, but the turbo has been confirmed in my mind as a valuable means to an end. As a mate said after, it keeps the legs spinning, and lets you do some all out sprints without a fear of coming off.

 

 

Trainers on, and straight back out onto the road for a run. A quick 5 mile brick to gauge current form in this department. The legs were tired and angry at this unexpected effort, but gave me a 6:45 min  mile average regardless. No complaints there.

 

 

Yesterday was also the last day of the 30 Day Cold Water Challenge.

 

 

The 30 days are done, and it went quite quickly. My body has got used to the cold, and I think there has been some benefit in helping me with Ice swimming. Certainly my head has desensitised to the initial ‘ice-cream headache’ type effect I was suffering.

 

 

The highlight is definitely that I used to think a warm shower after training was refreshing, I now know it isn’t. I will continue to take a cold shower after a decent session. It genuinely cools you, brings down the heart rate, and leaves you feeling alive and fresh, not tired and sleepy. In terms of training, especially in the morning before work, that is a real gain. 

 

The only reason I'll really be glad its over are because of the couple of things I hadn't really counted on missing. The first is I always tend to sit in the shower. Cross legged on the floor letting the water beat down on me. I love it. Its also a great place to sit and brush your teeth. When the water is ice cold there is no point trying to relax like that, and its good to be able to do it again, although I have already had complaints that I drain the tank of all water, and how much the family preferred me 'on cold' as it kept an element of brevity to my washing affairs.

 

Secondly I missed showering with Sarah. Not like hot and steamy showers, but just day to day. We are a house zero privacy, or so it seems. Often when we get up we will both get in the shower together, a quick mutual back wash - and just to save time and water. Its not unusual to be followed into the bathroom by 1 child sat on the loo and then 1 child stood brushing their teeth, all while we stand and shower together. A quirk of our family life that was missing for a month while I had to hang back and let the rest of the family  get sorted before I did my cold thing. Getting back to the everyday routine that I never even knew I would miss will be fun.

 

The low point in this endeavour came a week last Sunday from an unexpected corner. While we were changing for Ice Swimming in the hut a fellow swimmer asked me how it was going. At that point my mate Alex piped up ‘Are you still doing that??’ I confirmed I was, and asked if he had tried it, to which he replied:

 

"I thought about it, but we are stood here nearly naked about to get into a lake that’s 5 degrees, I considered that, then thought ‘of course he can do that, it’s no challenge’ so I didn’t bother trying it. We all know you can take a cold shower".

 

It was a throw away comment from Alex, but his assessment that it was in essence a pretty low bar I had set myself with this one hit home, and it made the final week hard to push through and be bothered to continue with it. Finish what you start though, even if all you take from something is that you saw it through, is a worthwhile maxim. And so that’s what I did. I stopped questioning it again, got on with it, and now it’s finished.  No regrets.

 

 

It’s that attitude I hope will carry me through the bike leg of the 140.6 in the summer. No questioning it. Just get in the saddle and pedal.

 

 

And so on to the Christmas Holidays, juggling gluttonous excesses and family gatherings that can quickly rob you of structured training. No doubt there will be lapses, but the 2 main pre Christmas evening events have passed without drunkenness, and that is the biggest thief of my time. A hang over seems to last 3 days and ruin training. They have been avoided with a strict personal 3 drink limit, and that is a huge gain.

 

 

Making ends meet.

It's been a week. A quick week. The last ramped up week of long endurance base sessions before a deserved rest. It's also the last week of the 30 day cold shower challenge. That ends Sunday.

 

Rather than repeat myself, or admit to a few smaller sessions I have slacked off on due to the dark mornings (warm bed) and the dark nights (coal fire) putting a dampener on things I have also delayed blogging on the premise it is better to be quiet than repeat myself or be negative and not motivate people.

 

It's an expensive time of year too though, and it occurred to me today that that is worth blogging about. Any way you can save some money is worth consideration in my mind.

 

It's not just busy and expensive because its Christmas, it's also the time of year when all the big events for next year are open and you start carefully watching the entry lists to see how quickly they are filling up. Before you know it you have little choice but to fork out for entries or risk being a spectator, and the bank balance can soon take a serious wallop. Today alone I got 'invites' to 4 events in 2015, and spent the afternoon thinking "I'll pay for that one then, this one there... oh, but I need this replacing, and if I hold off and enter that in Feb there's no council tax to go out and we can also book a hotel..." You know how it goes I'm sure....

 

Everyone has an annual budget. That budget might be £5000, it might be £500. Whatever it is, that doesn't just have to cover entry fees, it covers travel, accommodation, and more importantly kit that might need replacing or improving. This is a tough ball to juggle - once you get more serious about your sport you need the right kit to be competitive, but you don't want to spend a penny more than you have to. After all its got to be better to spend the money on entry fees and competing than it has on having a load of equipment and no money left to race, right? And that's where I did something last year that saved me around £500 and bought me a good few minutes on the bike.

 

I'm pretty outspoken about how much of a waste of money most kit is. Overhyped, over branded and mostly not worth anything more than a bit of hard graft can't improve on anyway. Something we can't escape though is physics, and the all important chunk of that we call aerodynamics. The stats are out there clear as day on the benefits of good aerodynamics, and a great place to start is a decent set of wheels.

 

The problem with wheels is they are expensive, and so I had avoided entertaining them up until the point where I just wasn't getting the improvements in my times that I used to, despite training harder and harder. Then I hit on an idea. Having looked at the various designs, and deciding that the weight of my wheels wasn't an issue, the next thing to consider was a disc wheel to really help cut through the air. 

 

I quickly concluded buying a budget end heavy lump of a disc had to be false economy. What I gained in aerodynamics I would lose in weight, and a decent carbon one was going to cost me dearly. For a solid back wheel I decided that with a bit of thought and patience I could make a lightweight 'in fill' for a fraction of the cost of going out and buying one. So that's what I did. And that's what I want to share.

 

I was lucky enough to be able to get sheet plastic through work for free. I knew what specification I wanted. Either ABS or GPPS (the type of plastic sheet I was looking to work with - both much lighter than PVC) and rigid but flexible. Anything used in a process called 'vac forming' would be ideal. I got a few sheets sent to me of varying thicknesses and settled on the thinnest suitable one I dare use, 200 microns thick. That's 0.2 of a mm. This I got free, but if you want to buy some it will cost you about £15 a sheet. At most these wheels are going to cost you £30. Just do a Google search on PS or ABS Sheet suppliers. Be sure that the width of the sheet you order is greater than the diameter of your wheel. 

 

I have put some images I took below with simple to follow instructions.

                                                                The unrolled Sheet PS.

 

Remove the back wheel and measure the radius from the skewer entry point to the edge of the dish where the spoke disappears into the outer edge of the wheel. Add 2 cm onto the radius depth.

 

Next secure the plastic sheet to a board with nails in each corner.  Knock a nail into the centre point of the sheet and tie some string to the nail.

 

Measure the string out to the radius +2cm distance you just took from the back wheel. Tie a nail into the string at that point.

 

Keeping the nail straight and upright, carefully and systematically work round scoring the sheet, keeping the string pulled taught. Measure intermittently with a tape measure to ensure you are scoring out the required radius evenly.

Once you are happy you have got the right size marked out, cut the disc out. I tried a few methods, a stanley blade was sharp, but left jagged edges. In the end I settled for my wifes dress making scissors. Sharp and smooth, and adds an unexpected element of danger when she finds out!!

 

Once you have cut out the disc, cut out the centre hole and then a straight line from the outer edge down to the centre.

 

Carefully slide the cassette on the wheel between the slit and ease it down and jiggle the centre hole around the inside of the cassette.

 

By adding the extra 2cm at the start you can now finely trim the sheet down to the perfect size so the rim of the disc sits on the dish about 3to 4mm just outside its inner edge. You need to leave a good bit of dish visible between the disc and the tyre for securing the disc to the wheel.

Once the disc is sized up and you are happy take it off and use it as template for the other side. You now have both sides ready to fix up.

I tried various methods, including bits of tubing and cable ties, but found that the best way to secure the disc was using nothing but a good quality duct tape. The glue in the duct tape bonds with the plastic and fixes very securely. Run it the length of the spokes and press it firmly and snugly around the spokes as I have started doing in the image above. Finally cut a flap in line with the inflator valve.

 

Once you repeat with the other side take your time. Slide you hand up and curve the sheet gently to get access. There should be enough flexibility in it to let you bend it to gain access.

 

Once it's stuck down both sides it should look something like this.

 

 

Now secure the sheet onto the dish by using good quality flexible electric tape. This will shape smoothly around the wheel, if you take your time you can pull it evenly round without pucker or ridges. Run another strip straight down the centre seam. Press it all down firmly.

Once everything is secure clean it up using white spirit or similar, and wipe over with a cloth.

The finished article below.

Before (complete with Aero Pineapple)

After.

 

After creating this disc I took it out on a well used 10 mile TT route. I instantly took 40 seconds off my PB for that route. An unbelievable time saving at an incredibly low cost. The additional weight to the wheel is a mere 98 grams. It really is a thin and durable disc. Buying a wheel like this would have cost me knocking on £600. That's the entry fee on another 3 x 140.6's. Result.

 

I have since used this wheel extensively and am happy to confirm it holds up in all weathers and has not once come loose.

It has been used in anger without issue - pushing me to a 24.3mph bike average in the Club Sprint Relays and my part in our team Silver medals, and also at Olympic distance bagging me an age category win and 5th overall. These results wouldn't have been possible without it.

 

Bored in the holidays? - Get out in the garage and spend some time now to save money and minutes in racing next season.



 

If you want any more info on the wheel please get in touch and I'll be happy to help.