Different Milkchurn

Apparently the consensus today was that I gave Spanish sprinters a bad name. Again.

Not sure why though. I took the final sprint by quite a distance.

Some mentioned the fact that I refused to take any turns at the front for (at least) the last 10 kilometres. In my mind that is race craft but I am open to the possibility that I have stretched it a bit too far. After all, I am a person of reason.

Others complained that The Pope had to do all the work from Cobham to Esher. But that was deliberate punishment. 

You might be wondering why a very nice person like me wants to punish The Pope so severely.

Well, because he did it again. For a second ride in a row we found ourselves going for the KOM of a climb. Today it was Stroud Lane. And, in the last metres of the climb. At the steepest part. He, again, started to talk to me. And, again, to tell me he was doing the climb in the big chainring.

“I hate you with a passion” was what I was able to shout with what felt like my last breath as he was passing me. To which he responded with a gesture my sensitivity doesn’t allow me to describe here. 

Look, it wasn’t about me. Although I’ll admit feeling relieved taking the final sprint after yesterday’s poor performance. It is about someone taking action to defend that poor bicycle. Poor thing. A whole week and the front gears are still not working. If Luca were still riding with us he would be disgusted.

But, even if we open ourselves to the remote possibility that I have given Spanish sprinters a bad name, there is nothing to worry about.

I heard reports that Antonio saved Spanish sprinters’ honour by taking revenge for what Michal did to me yesterday.

Next weekend he’ll ride with Amber, GC Denis, The Pope and Noel and will clean up all the mess I, very justifiably, have created.

Our honour (assuming I am still considered a Spanish sprinter) is in your legs Antonio. No pressure.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20908469295/ 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Medium Windsor (The Opportunist)

Medium Windsor is a flat course. One for the sprinters. Two sprints to contest.

The moment I saw, two days before the ride, The Opportunist had signed up for the ride I conceded both sprints.

There is a reason for his nickname, and he is also faster than me. 

That is why part of me found joy when I learnt he had a bad night and he couldn’t ride. The other part of me felt bad for him, and wished him a speedy recovery. I’m not a 100% terrible person.

It was four of us. Taking turns at the front. Riding easy all day.

We were riding through and off at Drift Rd. when I saw Bidders riding in the opposite direction.

Part of me found joy in seeing him. He would turn around and join us for the rest of the ride. It is always great to ride with Bidders. The other part of me knew he would turn around, catch us, and, still, beat me at the Drift Rd. sprint. That is the part of me that breathed a sigh of relief when we found the roadworks that forced us to neutralise the sprint.

Cinnamon bun and late at Windsor. A must as per my own tradition.

Bidders leaves the ride way before the final sprint. That brought back the idea of being the sprinter of the day. 

The strategy was clear for me. Sit on Michal’s wheel. Don’t move from there (which implies don’t move to the front). Wait until the last 50 metres and then launch your sprint. Take the win. Easy peasy.

The problem was that Michal was sitting on my wheel, instead of the other way around.

To make things worse I moved to the front and pushed the pace. A move that can’t not be explained under any rational circumstance.

I got right the part of waiting for the final 50 metres to launch my sprint.

There was a slight problem with the take the win bit. 

Michal started his sprint about the same time as I started mine. He got in parallel with me and, at the exact moment I thought I was going to accelerate and pass him, he accelerated and passed me. He took the sprint by three bike lengths (at the very least).

I won the best domestique of the day though.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20894153447/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Hillier Henley

The day was going brilliantly. HRV said I was well recovered from yesterday’s ride, I had a great coffee with my breakfast, the scale said I had lost weight. 

Every cyclist’s dream.

Then I had a 2-up ride with The Pope.

The one that yesterday ran 5km to warm up, followed by 5km in 18m14s, and, then, half a marathon in 1h37m. To cool down one can only guess.

In the first few kilometres I definitively could tell he was feeling all the running in his legs. With only three short hills in the menu today I started to sharpen my knife. I was going to eat The Pope alive.

Every cyclist’s dream. The day was going brilliantly.

A little detail was that I didn’t know any of the hills. Strava insists that I have ridden two of them before but, believe me, they felt completely new to me.

I had no problem following The Pope’s wheel in the first climb. 

Every cyclist’s dream. The day was going brilliantly.

Another little detail is the climbs were steep. Short hills but steep hills.

This is important because in the second (steep) hill I noticed The Pope was climbing in the big chainring.

Every cyclist’s nightmare. The day wasn’t going that brilliantly anymore.

To make things worse The Pope started to talk. 

Yes, in the middle of a hairpin bend, where I was standing on the bike, my legs screaming, me completely out of breath. The Pope explained he was climbing in the big chainring because he suspected if he moved into the small chainring he won’t be able to put it back in the big one. Somehow that explanation didn’t surprise me at all. 

Brilliant, I thought, attack him!!! I was in the small chain ring, all I had to do was to push the pedals a little bit, increase the cadence and very quickly I opened a gap.

A shame that very quickly I realised I had attacked too early. Soon after that fatal realisation I ran out of steam in my legs. 

Every cyclist’s nightmare. The day was starting to go badly.

A few seconds later The Pope passed me pedaling at 40rpm and taking the second hill KOM.

No time to cry. You have good legs. The last hill is coming. Sit on his wheel, recover, eat a gel, and under no circumstances take a turn in the front. Let him do all the work.

The final climb looked the steepest. The Pope started to talk. AGAIN!!!! I now think he does it on purpose. He asked if I knew the climb. I didn’t. 

We were riding in parallel. I saw him standing on the bike so I stood on mine. I was in the small chain ring. I was preparing my attack. Just waiting to see the top of the climb. Suddenly I looked at his crank and realised he was in the small chain ring. 

That’s the last thing I saw. In a few seconds The Pope opened a gap. By the time he got to the top, 500 metres later, the gap was 37 seconds.

Every cyclist’s nightmare. The day was getting very shitty very quickly.

Still no time to cry. You have good legs, I was still telling myself (those that say I am a bit too optimistic might have a point). Let’s get ready for the final sprint. It is the final sprint what really matters. Make sure you take it.

I’ll admit I worked a bit too much and too hard at the front to make sure I was going to take the final sprint.

In fact, being at the front as we were approaching the final sprint is not the best way of making sure you are going to take it.

With 200 metres to go I was starting to fade, looked back and The Pope was there. A bit too relaxed for my liking.

I waited a little bit and I looked back again and he was still there. Still looking relaxed to me.

Every cyclist’s nightmare. What a shit day. I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

The Pope didn’t start the sprint, we were so close to the line that I started my “sprint”. 

I didn’t need anyone to tell me it was a lame sprint. Less than anyone The Pope. Who said he allowed me to take it because I looked like I needed it (which is very true).

To hell with my HRV, the coffee I had with my breakfast, or how light the scale said I now was. Can we all agree and forget this day has existed?

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20817655011/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Alice Holt 124

Today was a great day for riding our bikes. Not cold, not hot. Sunny at times.

This is a brilliant route. Flat, but spicy. Some quiet roads with beautiful autumn trees and views.

The company was excellent. Riding steady all day.  Keeping the trio together. 

Didn’t feel that tired when I finished.

Then I went shopping in Kingston for a couple of hours and I am now completely destroyed.

I hope the shopping bit contributes to improving my VO2Max.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20804333891/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Ardingly reverse

 Well, this one went better than I was expecting.

GC Denis had suggested a perfectly fine route to Alice Holt and The Pope came with a counter proposal. A longer route with twice the climbing. Enough for me to worry.

I took it easy Friday and Saturday with just two easy hours on the turbo each day. 

But I worried even more when I saw the quality of the riders that had signed up for the ride.

I figured I had a chance at the final sprint so my plan was (I always have a plan, even when I say I don’t have a plan): No coffee in the morning, sit on the wheels all day, and aim for the final sprint. Simple. Easy to follow.

I was fast screwing up the plan. First climb, Banstead Rd., and I find myself at the front “talking” to JFW.

When I say “talking” I mean selecting carefully the moment and the sentences so you can deliver them in such a way that you make the rider riding next to you, JFW in this case, that you are riding effortlessly. I had screwed up my plan but at least I was winning the psychological war. 

A bit of a pointless victory to be honest as JFW quickly mentioned (after he recovered his breath) that he wasn’t riding the full route. I demoralised the wrong rider. Sorry JFW.

Those were not my only mistakes. In a short and steep climb I insisted on following The Pope and Alfredo. Not a clever move. I also found myself a few times at the front of the group. Many of them when we were getting head wind. A wind that was getting stronger and stronger. 

By the time we got to Ardingly I was tired, we were half way, and the second half had more climbing. Why do we listen to The Pope?

But I had a coffee and that changed my perspective. Suddenly life was wonderful, I was full of happiness.

To make things better at some point I recognised the road. It was the standard way back from Brighton.

For the first time in the day I knew where I was and what exactly was coming. 

The “how I feel” divided by “what is left” gave me an encouraging sign. I moved toward the front and started to contribute, consciously and voluntarily, to the pace. 

Even more, I started to consider the idea of attacking the group at Juniper. Me, the most cowardly rider, riding with such a strong group. Caffeine is a strong drug.

And, again, I screwed up the plan.

Somehow I found myself on Amber’s wheel approaching the Juniper&Box roundabout and with a gap to the rest of the group.

I moved to the front and took it steady at the ramp that takes you to Box. I was waiting for the group to catch up with us. I knew I couldn’t afford a two up Juniper with Amber. Her power to age ratio would kill me. I wanted a standard “I sit at the back of the group all the climb, sprint for the last 50 metres and I get the KOM”.

By the time we turned right to enter Juniper the group was almost there but not quite there. That is not good. I didn’t know what to do. So I did something silly.

Pushed the pace a little but not quite like going all in for the breakaway. Not here nor there. 

It wasn’t long until I felt a rider was moving towards passing me. I looked back and it was GC Denis. I looked back again and I saw a gap to the rest of the group. THANK GOD. 

One of my beliefs in cycling is that if I am around GC Denis I am doing very well. He is very generous in his effort and we are used to working together. It was going to be hard for the group to catch us.

In fact, by the time we got to the final ramp, I looked back and couldn’t see the group. I took the KOM. Boom!!!

I also took the final sprint, at Horton roundabouts. The Pope did all the work at the front, GC Denis led me with his constant pace, Nigel was feeling the ride in his legs, and Alfredo didn’t know where the line was. By the time he passed me I had already taken the sprint. Boom, boom!!! (A John Lee Hooker - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_6SlT3Yy10).

Probably my most successful day in my cycling career.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20726322099/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Good friends

 Cycling good friends are there when you need them. 

Doing all the work at the front as we were approaching the final sprint. A selfless effort that condemns their chances of taking the sprint. A selfless effort they make because they know you are hurt and demoralised after yesterday’s ride - I’d place a link to yesterday’s ride here but Strava Product Managers are missing this engagement possibility not allowing links to Strava in comments.

Anyway, the point is I took the final sprint. By a big distance.

So much so, that it made me suspect the whole thing was a bit of a facade designed only to make me feel better.

It worked. I feel better. I am happy again.

It is so easy to make a cyclist happy.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20446318509

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Jorge

Unlike me he is an honest cyclist and a nice guy. He doesn’t sandbag, he is very easy to get friends with. 

If he is not a strong climber it is because his form is not there yet. If he is not the most endurance capable cyclist of the group it is because his form is not there yet. If you don’t see him at the front all the time it is only because his form is not there yet.

But he is working on it. And he is very open about how he is doing it. Cyclocross here, a gravel ride there, Saturday gang rides like today. With the required humbleness of the one that is not there yet, but knows he will get there eventually.

I like it. It makes me feel like a front row spectator of the magnificent spectacle of seeing someone getting better as a cyclist. A witness of the miracle that consistent and conscious training produces. That miracle that produces a strong cyclist that is impossible to remember how it wasn’t that strong in the past. 

I chose to call him Jorge just to make it harder for my native English speakers' friends to pronounce his name. 

The only thing I don’t like about him is that he is a stronger sprinter than me. Today I lost against him my third consecutive sprint in a row.

That overcasts all the good things I have said about him. Unlike him I’m not a nice guy.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20432613188/ 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Milk Churn

 It is such a shame that the days I have less time to ride a report seem to be the days GC Denis chose to do a heroic attack and take a magnificent win at the Juniper KOM.

It is not only that I am short of time though.

I’m not really motivated to tell everyone that I also didn’t take the KOM at Effingham because I couldn’t load the big chainring at the right moment, that I failed to take the Leith Hill KOM because The Pope decided the KOM line was about a kilometer after the line I had sprinted for, and I have zero motivation to tell you that the other annoying Spanish speaker rider in the group took the final sprint at the Horton roundabouts by a country mile. 

With that in mind, why on earth would I want to tell you that GC Denis took the KOM at Juniper riding solo from the very beginning of the climb?

Well, I’ll tell you all about it only so you understand why TY, who was about 7,000km away when this happened, is to blame for it.

GC Denis was at the front of the group when we took the turn towards Juniper. A gap opened behind him. Noel kept his pace, Nigel on his wheel, then The Pope and then myself having everything under control.

The gap grew. No one seemed to want to close it.

I wasn’t worried. I knew at any time I could jump, close the gap, and then out sprint GC Denis.

I sat and kept my poker face.

But the gap grew a little bit more and the group was not accelerating.

I played it cool. It was going to take a big effort to jump across but I knew I could do it. I just had to wait for the right moment.

I wouldn’t be able to tell when that happened but at a certain point the gap was so big we were not seeing GC Denis in front of us anymore. I realised the KOM was lost.

Without taking any merit to GC Denis’ effort (I wish I were brave enough to try something like that), at the moment, I blamed the team. Bunch of lazy riders. 

Later on I realised it is all TY’s fault.

He is the one that planted the sentence: “He was willing to lose the race in order to win the race”.

An advice that hasn’t worked for me in two consecutive rides, and I’m not here to take any responsibility so TY’s fault it is.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20142825846

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Blame Noel

It was all Noel’s fault.

GC Denis was setting a good pace up Woldingham. Good because I was sitting in third wheel and already counting on taking the KOM outsprinting him and Noel at the top.

But Noel decided to attack and I had to follow. To my surprise when I got to him I felt I still had more to give so I carried on.

At some point, when I was running out of steam, I looked back and the gap looked to me big enough to take the KOM. 

A shame I didn’t know where it was because I got the feeling GC Denis beat me to it on what had to be the top.

Then Toy’s Hill came. The Pope (absent at Woldingham) set a good pace. Good because I was sitting in fourth wheel and already counting on taking the KOM outsprinting The Pope, GC Denis, and Noel at the top.

But Noel decided to attack. The Pope followed him. I’m glad I didn’t have the legs otherwise I would have followed The Pope and that never ends well. All I could do was sit on GC Denis’ wheel. 

The Pope dropped Noel and disappeared at the front. GC Denis closed the gap to Noel and he moved behind me.

For whatever reason I felt the moral obligation to take a turn at the front, something very unusual. Very reluctantly I passed GC Denis and moved to the front for what must have been 30 seconds but felt like an eternity.

When my pace was starting to embarrass the trio GC Denis passed me again and took matters into his hands.

As you would expect as we were approaching the top I “sprinted” to take the KOM only to find out that there was (just another) ramp to go and GC Denis was sitting comfortably in my wheel.

Beaten again by GC Denis.

So, now Juniper was the last climb. GC Denis at the front for most of it. Noel on his wheel, I on Noel’s, Nigel on mine.

I wasn’t planning to sprint for the KOM, but at the final ramp I saw Noel changing to the small chainring. I got a bit over excited, sprinted, and took the climb.

For some reason no one believed me when I blamed Noel when we regrouped at the top.

But then the Horton roundabouts sprint came. I definitely wanted to take that one.

So I move to the back of the group. Behind Noel.

He was doing a fairly good job taking me through the roundabouts and staying at the back of the group until Nigel opened a gap at the front.

I stayed on Noel’s wheel.

Second at the sprint after Nigel.

It was all Noel’s fault.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/20046657266/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Madrid-Gijon-Madrid 2026 (1200km Audax)

This has been my 12th Super Brevet (13th if I count London Floris London)

I feel I can claim I know a few things about long distance cycling.

I knew it could be very hot in central Spain. 

It was.

I knew it would rain all the time the route went through Asturias.

It did.

I knew I was in great company and I was going to have a fantastic time.

I was and I had it.

I also knew I was going to ride easy the whole route.

I did.

What I didn’t know was how tiring it is to ride easy. I am completely wasted.

Keep learning young grasshopper

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/19867305688

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

To The Moon (La Luna), the long and unknown way

Are you familiar with the song Pedro Navaja from Ruben Blades? Probably not if you are not Spanish or Latin American. 

It is one of my favourite songs. The chorus goes “Life gives you surprises, surprises are given to you by life, oh God” (my translation).

I had that song in my mind during the ride today.

Xuancar suggested a route yesterday. Being the planner I am, I studied it. It had a couple of climbs I had ridden once or twice and a climb (4km @ 10.5%) that was completely new to me. I even knew where I was going to take my gels. 

The first thing he said this morning was we were not riding that route. 

The best thing you can say to a cyclist with slight OCD.

The song says “life gives you surprises” but in my life it is Xuancar who gives me surprises. 

Xuancar gave me a description of the new route but it was as useless to me as a route planned by JFW (Although, to be fair, the description seemed to work for Miguel). Without a route in my Garmin, not knowing where we were going, and, what is even worse, not knowing if I had enough gels in my pockets, I did the only reasonable thing. Moved to the back and sat on Xuancar and Miguel’s wheels.

At the beginning I recognised the roads, but at some point the roads looked new to me (Strava disagrees). I wasn’t lost. I knew, more or less, where we were and the direction we were taking. What I didn’t know was the profile of what was coming ahead or how far the coffee stop was.

The profile was a series of short, punchy ramps that, somehow, I found myself at the front for many of them. “Xuancar gives you surprises” I sang to myself in each of them. 

The coffee stop was farther than I thought it was going to be (“Xuancar gives you surprises”). Which means that by the time we got to La Luna (The Moon) I was already tired, hungry, and craving for caffeine. 

When we finished it was around noon and we had to be back home at 13:30. 

Xuancar set his tempo and I was thinking to myself “SALSA” (Pedro Navaja’s tempo) and the chorus came again, “Xuancar gives you surprises”.

I was home at 13:25.

Before saying our goodbyes to Xuancar we agreed we were riding tomorrow. “An easy ride” I begged. “Cicloturismo” (touring) answered Xuancar. 

Then, when Miguel and I were riding the last kilometres he warned me. Whenever he says “Cicloturismo” we end up riding at 30km/h average speed. 

“Xuancar gives you surprises, oh God”.

And I don’t know how many gels to take with me.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/19652962245/ 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Tanhouse

Everything was pointing to a great day and I wanted it to stay that way.

The weather was perfect, I was fresh, and I had a coffee in the morning that made me feel strong and optimistic.

So much so that, somehow, I found myself at the front of the ride pretty much from the beginning.

Unusual to say the least.

Also unusual to see I had opened a fairly big gap on the steep section of Newlands. 

Not being used to being in that position I eased off my pace fearing I was going too hard and inevitably I was going to blow up before the top of the climb.

It always feels great when you ease off. You feel strong and clever.

Until Rupert passes you full speed…

And before you can react Nigel passes you also at full speed.

Third at the top of Newlands. Not that strong, definitively not that clever.

 

To make things worse Rupert said this “sprint” reminded him of our sprint at the top of Soller. A sprint in front of a bunch of cyclists that were spectating. A sprint I was almost celebrating when Rupert passed me about 5 metres before the line. A sprint I tried to forget for years and I had hoped he had forgotten years ago…

That’s when I realised the day wasn’t going that great and a strong course correction was needed.

At Tanhouse I had a late (second coffee of the day) and, of course, a scone with cream and jam.

Overdosed in caffeine I fancied my chances for the grand finale.

I did fairly well on the section to the bottom of Juniper. Following wheels, only pushing the pace when it suited me. 

I was a bit silly at Juniper. Moving to the front at the beginning of the climb wasn’t my best move, but someone has to play the JFW’s role now that he is not a cyclist anymore (he is a runner!!!). Luckily for me no one wanted to challenge the KOM. First win of the day.

But it was the Horton sprint that I was thinking about. A sprint defeat requires a bigger sprint win.

From the top of Juniper no one saw me at the front. As soon as we got to the roundabouts I made sure I was well positioned. Everyone in front of me.

Well, everyone but George (someone please remind him of the great philosopher famous words’ “The position of annoying Spanish speaker sprinter has already been taken”).

And then Nigel moved to the back of the group.

Being third wheel in a group of five, having Rupert in front of me, and approaching the last roundabout is not ideal, but it isn’t that bad either.

Rupert taking the sprint and me being fifth (FIFTH!!!! ffs) brought me memories of what I wrote on the report of that sprint at the top of Soller. 

“What a great spectacle we gave [...]. I was so happy for him! [Rupert] After all the effort he had put leading me[...], divine justice was made and he took the sprint [...] with me shouting words of encouragement. I almost cried of joy. I was so happy for him that run out of words in English and had to switch to Spanish to shout more expressions of happiness”. 

This Horton sprint is another sprint I’ll try to forget for years.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/19554263157/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

AST - Tolivia Fest the hilly way

I suspected something was going on when I saw Xuancar with flip flops in his pocket.

Before I knew it I was in the middle of a 12 riders group riding at a decent pace up Gargantada and up San Tirso.

A quick refreshing stop before tackling la Colladona. A 5km@7% climb that we rode easy at the beginning but accelerating as we were going up to finish at a pace that almost killed me. 

After the Colladona descent the surprise came. We took a short deviation and found ourselves in Tolivia. A tiny village in the middle of nowhere that, very conveniently, was celebrating a craft beer festival.

It was hot, we were thirsty, the atmosphere was amazing (watch the attached video and pictures), the beer was cheap, and it tasted great. Yes, I also had a beer (and if you know me that is some exception).

The flip flops were a fantastic call (I wasn’t wearing them). That probably contributed to the group feeling comfortable and being by the fifth or sixth one by the time Rober and I had to leave.

I am back home and I’m pretty sure the rest of the group is still there. How they are going to ride the 50k, including climbing up Gargantá, to get them home is a mystery to me.

I was told the party will last until 3am. They might decide to ride back tomorrow.

Next Kingston Wheelers training camp in Asturias will be around 10th of July. They have to experience the Toliva Fest…

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/19269860169/ 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González