The influence of Spanish lessons in cycling style

 Back on the bike after pretending (and failing) to be a runner for the last couple of weeks.

I shouldn’t have had that coffee in the morning. 

All I wanted for today was to sit at the back of the group and enjoy the ride. 

The morning coffee got me too excited and before I realised I was at the front, riding parallel to GC Denis. Sometimes I can’t believe how often I fail to follow a perfectly designed plan.

Somehow I still managed to get a decent first half of the ride. 

I was able to hold GC Denis’ wheel going up Effingham despite all the help I gave him in the form of very strong moral support and admiration for all the work he was doing at the front. 

I took the very important sprint at Holmbury St. Mary attacking from the front, deploying an explosion of power that no one was able to match and that allowed me to celebrate with arms in the air such a great win.

Finally I did a decent job leading the pack in the last climb before Seale. Richard L. took the Seale sprint proving that learning Spanish also gets you into Spanish riding style. 

I say finally because that was it. Got to Seale, got a coffee and scone and realised I was tired. Dead. Finito. Kaputt. 

I sat towards the back of the group the whole way back. I struggled quite a bit. On a few occasions I was tempted to drop and let the group go. The pace was nothing crazy, just too much for me. 

By the time we got to Cobham I told everyone I was not going to sprint. I was destroyed.

But I changed my mind. 

It is not that my word can’t be trusted when it comes to sprinting, it is just that the approach to Esher was slow enough for me to believe I could take the sprint. 

That’s not my fault. 

What else could I have done if I found myself at the back of the group with a clear view on who was ready to sprint.

…flesh is weak.

So, from that privileged position I made my calculations and decided Jack, Nigel and Richard L. were the ones to look out to. I also decided to wait as long as possible and attack from behind, passing everyone and taking the (second) win.

Richard L. screwed everything though.

Once again, he showed the influence of his Spanish lessons and he went a bit too early.

A bit too early for me.

That was the moment when I realised that going at the back of the group was not that great. It turns out you have to close a bigger gap. Not ideal. 

I didn’t win. That’s probably all you want to know about the sprint.

But I’ll tell you that Richard L. took it. 

I am very, very, very happy. I mean, very, very happy. That the second most Spanish rider of the group won the final sprint.

Now you know. If you want to be a sprinter, start taking Spanish lessons.

 The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/15579819367/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Punchbowl via Tilford

 Totally out of tune with myself.

I felt fresh after a rest day yesterday. I didn’t have any problem starting at the front, riding next to Bidders. It felt steady and easy. I was feeling optimistic.

My Garmin said we had four climbs today (yeah, I know, you look at the profile and you wonder how Garmin classifies climbs. Me too 🤷‍♀️).

The first one was Hogsback and it felt unusually “easy”. Soon I felt myself at the front with Bidders. I stood on the bike and pushed a bit. I see now I got a PB and I wasn’t really trying. Mostly because I don’t know where the segment starts. 

So I was feeling optimistic for the second climb. All the way to Punchbowl. As soon as I recognised from what side we were tackling the climb I did what I had to do. Got a gel, drank some water and soon moved to the front setting a pace aiming to take me as fast as possible to the top.

That lasted 5 minutes. At that point Bidders passed me. Behind him Rupert, GC Denis, Dan and Nigel. Not sure in what order. At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead.

A latte and a scone with cream and jam at the coffee stop did the usual trick. Caffeine kicked in and started to feel great. 

Didn’t have any problem hitting the front again. And, believe me, this is very unusual for me. I was back to enjoying the ride.

Third climb (according to Garmin) came. A short one, only 1km. Again, I moved to the front and set a pace that felt sustainable. 

And it was. Got to the top with Bidders on my wheel, hearing his gears changing, which is never good news, But it was a good effort, it felt good (looking at Strava now I matched my PB to the second), I was optimistic again.

The fourth climb was Coombe Lane. Rupert got a gap. That was perfect. Something to aim for. I immediately moved to the front and set a pace aiming to bring Rupert back slowly. 

That lasted 2 minutes. Bidders, again, passed me. Behind him GC Denis, Dan and Nigel. Again, not sure in what order. (let me copy and paste my words from above) “At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead”.

Creme Brulé, who had been doing 25 (!!!!) hill reps up and down Combe Lane rode with me and dropped me like a stone in the steep part. 

All alarms went off in my brain. Get to the back of the group and don’t get anywhere near the front. Get yourself ready for the final sprint at Esher.

From Combe Lane it is all flat or downhill until the Esher ramps. Good opportunity to recover.

The approach to the Esher sprint was perfect for my interests. Creme Brulé led the whole way and I was towards the back keeping an eye on everyone. 

After the third bump I thought this was my sprint to lose. I was in the best position and breathing was relaxed, legs were feeling fine.

I waited for my distance and launched the sprint from the back. 

Dodging it massively. 

I attacked standing on the bike. Somehow, suddenly, my bicycle was up in the air. I feared I was going to crash in front of everyone, embarrassment being my main worry. I sat back.

I stood up again. I guess I was trying to gain speed, but who knows what I was trying to do. I seem to remember that I also tried to get in better gear. 

To no avail. Rupert passed me like a missile and took the sprint by a country mile. 

I believe I was second, but let me copy and paste my words again. “At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead”.

A couple of hours later I am still dead. Still surprised. Totally out of tune with myself.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/14941711490/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Where was GC Denis?

I lost the final Esher sprint today.

I’m not used to taking responsibility for my own failures so I’ll blame it on Denis.

Today meant to be a sure win for me.

I “knew” the rider to beat was Tim. You can bet I was sitting on his wheel from Cobham with the intention of only passing him to take the final sprint.

Simple plans are the best ones.

As soon as we got to the second ramp, the one out of Cobham being the first one, the one after the traffic lights, the “big” one, Tim attacked. 

I, obviously, followed his wheel. 

That’s it. I won. I knew it. I knew everyone else knew it. Only Tim didn’t know.

You can imagine my surprise when he signed he was going to turn left and peel off. 

Isn’t quitting the final sprint against some kind of cycling rule?

So, I’m now at the front of the group, everyone else sitting on my wheel and I still have two ramps to the line.

To be honest, not a position I’m used to being in but, never shy to lead a sprint, I didn’t break to force everyone to pass me and stayed at the front.

That in itself should be enough to give me some kind of most honorable rider of the day award. I’d take it.

This is the moment I thought: Wait a second. Where is GC Denis?

We got to the top of the second to last ramp and I eased a bit expecting GC Denis to pass and offer me a much needed wheel.

Instead JFW passed me. 

Way too fast. 

I still managed to jump on his wheel. 

Disaster averted. I’m so going to win this sprint. 

Unfortunately JFW is not GC Denis. 

As soon as the final ramp started JFW blew away. He slowed down so quickly it was impossible not to pass him.

Worst lead out I ever seen!

Where is GC Denis?

So, I’m back to the front. Nigel on my wheel (JFW not a contender anymore).

I start the sprint and as soon as I sit down I see Nigel passing me.

He beat me by a country mile.

Denis cost me the first win of the year.

Where was Denis?

Oh, he wasn’t even riding with us. Apparently he was racing in Zwift.

Denis, please, come back. I miss you dearly (can’t speak for the others though)

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/10549972768 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González