Thursday, 31 December 2015


Bak Pocket / NRR:
I'm not going to suggest it couldn't be a fashion, but I think it was more likely a misheard one. I think the look Youngie had heard about and was attempting to imitate was bee stung lips, instead he went with bee stung hips (actually his knee, but that's far less rhyming).

Drew Ginn and I stopped with him until the requests to suck the venom out started coming, then we switched to pulling turns to get back to the Bak Pocket boys. That leads to another slight miss-communication. Drew obviously didn't get the memo that time off the bike should translate to less ability to put everyone in the gutter to suffer.

Not only was he guttering the big lads of the Bak Pocket ride, but we turned at Mordi and combined forces with northy... and he gave all them a touch up too.

Strava link.

D: 65.2km
A: 200m


D: 13.9km
A: 56m

PMPW: 87kg

Wednesday, 30 December 2015


I intended to get a couple of sneaky laps of Albert Park lake in before work, but when I saw Dunny on a cross road, I swung a hard turn and ended up rolling to Slack rock instead.

D: 59.5km
A: 273m

PMPW: 87kg

Tuesday, 29 December 2015


Ricktastic Tuesday:
I've stared at the below photo for far longer than most heterosexual males would stare at a photo of lycra clad butts.

I've looked to see if there's a clue as to where I cam make aerodynamic gains for the very (very very) important rolling races that occur. You see, despite my arse being in front here, by the time we reach where the truck is shown to be, young Rick has not only drawn level, but edged ahead.

I joke about wind tunnel testing, but maybe it should be a real thing, after all I've taken time to learn the TT shrug, and I don my glasses to smooth out airflow over my very unaero eye sockets.

Am I too tucked? Sitting on the top tube is gauche, but maybe it needs to occur. Perhaps I need to finally overcome my fear of penile damage and master the superman.

Oh yeah, we totally rode up some hills this morning too.

Strava link.

D: 54.7km
A: 689m


D: 13.8km
A: 43m

PMPW: 87kg

Monday, 28 December 2015


St Kilda East - Kars - Baden Powel - Canadian bay - Two bays - St Kilda East:
The question of whether I'd hit any part of the Wednesday long loop hard this morning, was first answered when Adam hit it at the bottom of Canadian Bay rd. I couldn't resist, I couldn't let him get a lead, to get away... so I did what I always do, I marked the shit out out of it.

Before we reached the false flat, maybe about half way up the first ramp, I was once again faced with the question. Adam had blown, and I was clear off the front of everyone. At this juncture I decided to push on to the false flat where I re-assessed the question.

One one hand, it was a bonus day of kms after a period of being slightly behind the recovery curve. In other words, pain wasn't necessary. On the other hand, pew pew pew, attack attack, more!

I eased at the false flat, I could hear someone having a go. I looked over my shoulder and found Leigh giving a solo bridging a crack, so I decided to wait. I pulled through the false flat, then attacked him on the kicker to the top. At this point the question was not if I should hurt, I'd pretty much decided I was, but how best to go about it.

So I waited for Leigh, and asked if he was keen to set a time up Two bays. My intention was to give him the best sit, to keep him on my wheel for as long as possible and thus have a witness to my effort or lack there of.

450W was my mark, and I set about putting it out only to find Turner had descended hard to make the catch. No sooner had he announced his presence at the back, then Leigh announced his at the front, driving the pace up a bit. I took a short sit, then got back to the front to preserve his legs. It was at this point it stopped being about me, and became about Mr Aitken, because he soon sounded like an emphysematous steam train. I kept the pace, he held the wheel, and I gained a lot of respect for how deep he was willing to dig.

Strava tells me Leigh PB'd the climb, a text told me that he'd done so by 30 seconds. Nice!

As for me, I was within 3 seconds of my best, and did more of the work to achieve it. Maybe that means I could go even quicker sometime soon.

Strava link.

D: 103.6km
A: 584m

PMPW: 88kg

Sunday, 27 December 2015


St Kilda East - Broad Gully - Mine - Christian - Flat Rock - Carters - St Kilda East:
I was proud of the sock/jersey combination I had one today, so proud I really didn't want to put on a gillet, and I've put my arm warmers away for a few months. It's possible I should have eaten some of that price, as the temp dropped to 8°C at Nutfield, and I'm not sure if goose bumps provide any aero advantage.

The cold air was good for one thing though, it made me realise how much better I felt than yesterday. In fact I felt a lot better than I had all week, my legs went around in circles. When I decided it was time for everyone to taste pain, everyone got a french loaf.

Strava link.

D: 108.2km
A: 1,770m

PMPW: 87kg

Saturday, 26 December 2015


I don't know what hit me today, but I felt like arse. It might have been the breakfast of berries, cream, waffles and reese's peanut butter cups that sent me into a voyage complete with dizzying sugar highs and death defying lows... if so, that'd be the lowest sugar low I've ever had.

Anyway, I stretched a bit, and napped a bit, and generally didn't do anything physical because it was raining, and because I felt about as good as sun warmed vomit smells.

PMPW: 89kg

Friday, 25 December 2015


I love a roll on christmas morning, almost as much as I love a roll stuffed with christmas day leftovers on boxing day.

Anyway, there's a lot of myths and stories about christmas time, and normally being an aethiest I don't buy into them... but today during a futile search for an open cafe, I witnessed an honest to god christmas miracle. Revolver was closed!

Strava link.

D: 47.6km
A: 165m

PMPW: 87kg

Thursday, 24 December 2015


Some days you're the hammer, and some days you're sitting in the bunch wondering why it's so hard, and who the hell is pulling turns at 54km/h. I wasn't the hammer.

Strava link.

D: 44.3km
A: 157m

PMPW: 87kg

Wednesday, 23 December 2015


I thought it best to take it easy today, the legs were flat and heavy yesterday and I had a general tiredness hanging over me from all the poor sleeps the hot weather last week brought.

Instead of hitting some more hills with Rick and Wilko, or Jase and Dusty, I cruised along the beach, spinning the legs through while the sun warmed my back. To use a favourite of Straussy, it was "not shit".

D: 33.7km
A: 123m

PMPW: 87kg

Tuesday, 22 December 2015


Ricktastic Tuesday:
How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather from some gigantic flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the London Dandenong cloud-bank. It shines on a good many folk ponies, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than you and I. How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of Nature Horvart!

Strava link.

D: 54.5km
A: 740m


D: 12.8km
A: 55m

PMPW: 87kg

Monday, 21 December 2015


Here's a few moments (sped up 1.25x) from De Luca's Christmas Cross from the other week. The SD card must have filled up, or the whole thing timed out, because I had nothing of the wall of dirt between Two and Canadian Bays.

D: 27.3km
A: 147m

PMPW: 88kg

Sunday, 20 December 2015


SKCC Crit Champs:
I did some things wrong, and I did some things right, but I'm pretty bloody happy where I ended up.

I wasn't super keen on racing today, I only put in an entry on Friday, but the forecast gave me pause. I woke up and after an espresso over ice I checked SKCC's facebook and twitter pages. I was hoping it would be called off, that someone would say "It's probably for the best we postpone it.", but no one did.

So I rolled down, and made a great choice, I stopped at 7/11 and bought a pair of pantyhose. No, wait! I also bought a 5kg bag of ice, used it to ensure my bottles were as cold as could be, and dumped more into said stockings to drape around my neck. 20 minutes in and I was still feeling cool despite the 37°C temp, I was so happy about that decision, that I might have been a touch complacent. Moves had been going, but everything was either being fried by the wind, chased down, or both. I figured we were set for a lovely 50 minuted trundle around, then a kick for the line.

Instead, a few guys went up the road, then a few more, then some more and Shit! the break was looking solid while the bunch was looking done. I had two boys in the move, but I really really wanted to have a shot at the win today. Probably not the best team mentality, and the rolling turns with a couple of others was definitely not the best team behaviour. Thankfully Jase Nevins came rocking past and I jumped on while he pulled us clear. Knowing I wasn't dragging the bunch closer to my team mates was helpful, but to be fair... I wasn't actually sure Jase and I were getting any closer. We sat up a little, giving up some hard fought for ground, to let a couple of other boys get on. The extra legs were welcome, but the break was almost out of sight on the main straight. I wasn't convinced it was coming back.

Instead of worrying about that, I just worked on my turns. I wanted to hold them at 450W, though they were often sitting at 500. The ice was well gone by now, and I was slowly making my way through the bottles of warming water. Thankfully a massive mental boost came, Raphael Freinstein had pulled the pin from the break. If that name doesn't ring a bell, he was the dude that absolutely pantsed my effort at the 2014 SKCC World Champs. I told the others that the break had just lost a big engine, and started holding slightly longer turns.

With scant minutes left in the race 3 of us made contact with the break. I rolled a couple of turns, using it as a chance to suss out who had on black/orange numbers (eligible for the masters win), and who had a black/white one (just eligible for elite). "Gouldy from O2 might be an issue, but he seems tired", I thought. "That TKM dude (Nick)... can he sprint? have you seen him sprint at Noize? I think he can sprint... he's a threat.". I figured I was a fair shot at the masters title. Shannon Johnson was going to do bad things to the sprint, I was as confident of that as I was about myself.

Lui gave me a wheel to sit on, but he punctured with 2 laps to go. I marked a move or two, but after we lapped the main field the pace slowly dropped. No one wanted to flinch, no one wanted to drag anyone with them, I certainly didn't. Gouldy hit it out of corner 2/3, and I jammed myself on his wheel. He knew he was marked, and slowed, and slowed and slowed, and "Shit, this is too slow, I have to lay off his wheel, but he's slowing too much! Aaaaargh FUCK IT, IT'S TIME! I had a foot of space to his wheel and I ran at it and then stepped out into the head wind. We were still on the sweeper, there was a short straight, a 90° turn, and then a tailwind run to the line. I hoped I'd caught SJ off guard, but a tiny peek under the arm said he'd found me. I dove into the corner and had one thought. "Fight to the line!

SJ kicked past soon after the corner, he had the elite win, but I wanted the masters title. "Stay low, keep kicking, click another gear". I could feel someone... no it was... a presence, a mass, an abstract of a man, and they were coming up my left. I kept driving hard out of the saddle, I had no road elevation to use, but I was on the smooth tarmac on the far right. I threw hard for the line, and was mostly confident I'd held them off.

It was shortly after the elite podium that I found out/realised SJ is a masters rider too. He'd been wearing the black/white #1 dossard of last year's elite champ.

I'm pretty bloody happy, and only the pain of a post race slurpee included icecream headache could take the smile off my face... and that was only temporary... until the next one.

Strava link.
D: 56.7km
A: 98m

PMPW: 86kg

Saturday, 19 December 2015


Hell Ride:
It's not every day I see a move by a national champ and think "I might ride over there and keep them company". Today I did, Joe Cooper, resplendent in his Kiwi kit hit Olivers hill hard, I figured I'd abandon the safety of the bunch, and go keep him company. A few moments later, in a moment that topped the surrealness, we rode past Baden Cooke. Sure it's likely Joe's offy, and Baden has hung up his professional racing boots, but if the ride had stopped then and there, I would have held that moment dear for at least a few more months.

It didn't end there, a short while later I decided that no one else was going to be capable of chasing down Simon Clarke and Pat Lane, so I better give it a go. I didn't make it, Pat is fucking flying right now, and he hit it hard. It was the same attack as a few weeks back, but launched from the exit of Baden Powell, with the confidence of a man who was going to ride it all the way to the line.

I'm struggling to write why those two moments mean so much, so much so that I started this paragraph several times before these words were left on the screen. I suppose it's that I know there's a clear class difference between these guys and me, but right now, with a good chunk of fitness under my belt (them lacking some), and some efforts that suit me, I get to glimpse at their world and to feel part of it.

The time spent talking crap with mates over coffee, smoothies and the water jug I spilled all over my lap... well that's bloody ace too.

Strava link.

D: 100.0km
A: 374m

PMPW: 88kg

Friday, 18 December 2015


CX Shenanigans:
To quote Billy Birmingham... "Typical stinking fucking hot day here in Bombay." Shit house for sleeping, but pretty bloody nice to ride in!

I think the tweaks I've made to my setup/fit have helped too, as after a couple of warm up trails I started to see lines better, floating bunny hops over obstacles and landing (mostly) smoothly the little down ramps my brain was highlighting. Like the chicken and the egg, I can't quite figure out which came first, or which is more important, but it felt good.

Strava link.

D: 29.6km
A: 386m

During the day, I thought about the old saying "slow is smooth, and smooth is fast", and somewhere an addendum was added. "...but loose is fun!"

That permeated into my brain, and the gravel trail to the side of Canterbury road saw me drifting and grinning. Though maybe the grin was because of how absurd I felt with an avocado bulging out of my jersey pocket.

D: 13.7km
A: 60m

PMPW: 87kg

Thursday, 17 December 2015


I didn't think much on my commute home because it was so hot you could fry an egg in my underpants bibs. On the way to work, and at work, I did get a little bit o'thinkin time. I thought about ye olde Xmas Hell ride on Saturday and ze SKCC crit champs this Sunday.

It's going to be hot as hell on Saturday,  and I'm not jumping out of my skin for the SKCC champs, despite being in similar form to a couple of years ago when I last had a crack.

I think I'll roll the helly, eat way too many icypoles, and see how I feel.

D: 25.2km
A: 127m

PMPW: 88kg

Wednesday, 16 December 2015


Wooo baby that was fun, and if not for someone doing something along the boulevard that affects cyclists (and for the first time me), it could have been even more fun. That's about as much air time as I'm giving the person and the issue though, because the first rule of the internet is, don't feed the troll.

Being the xmas edition of the Belgie, we rolled out 10 minutes early, I had still managed to squeez in a coffee though, so was confident I was going to inflict some damage. When we rolled out, that confidence took a beating as roadies set hard tempo up the boulevard. "Screw it", I thought and hit the cobbled laneway hard, looking back at the end to the satisfying sight of a shattered bunch.

That action and counter action kind of describes the ride as a whole. There were mostly road bikes in the bunch, and they were making good use of the paved sections to try and soften up the knobby tyres. The cross riders were countering on the loose surfaces to try and take the edge off the roadies legs. It was hard, it was challenging, it was the sort of thing that though everyone is hitting with all they've got, they're doing it with a grin that threatens to split their face in two.

I suppose this is the bit where I admit I attacked one too many times, or to acknowledge the ferocity of a counter attack put on the the slick tyred crew. On the bike path run into the guide dogs I missed the wheel, and despite chasing at 47km/h, never caught back to it (until the stairs when we all had a laugh). Chapeau roadies, chapeau.

Strava link.

D: 57.0km
A: 570m


D: 12.5km
A: 55m

PMPW: 86kg

Tuesday, 15 December 2015


Ricktastic Tuesday:
Bing joined Ricky and I for the roll this morning, and it went pretty much how I would have predicted it. I got nervous and half wheeled/attacked everything, Mick responded to it all, and Rick stoically got the job done.

Hitting the ramp of Parker st, I decided to give it a nudge, I'd done up my shoes and figured it was a good chance to see what time I could set up the double digit gradients. The strava KOM was nice, but what I didn't expect was some power PBs. I held on to 1,000W for longer that I've done before (40sec), but at the time I distinctly remember consciously shutting it down, and my body declaring it was good for a few seconds more.

That wasn't the most important part of the ride though, that honour has always been, and will always be, where to go for coffee afterwards.

Strava link.

D: 47.6km
A: 637m


D: 12.7km
A: 46m

PMPW: 88kg

Monday, 14 December 2015


Those of you following along with my movember adventures last month would be aware that my facial hair is not best described as thick and bushy, so it was to some surprise that I found a single dark hair below my right nostril. It was slightly less surprising realising that it was just a splinter, left lodged there from sometime yesterday. Without concrete proof I don't want to point fingers at a certain Patterson river tree... but that jerk might have a date with some secateurs.

D: 27.9km
A: 136m

PMPW: 87kg

Sunday, 13 December 2015


If I had $5 for every time today that I thought "I have no idea where I am", I'd almost have enough to cover the cost of the cx tubes/CO2 canisters the bunch went through. The sheer number trails and paths heading down past Frankston from Patto river was surprising, almost as surprising as the branch I copped to the mouth early on. I ducked under the tree I thought the call of "heads" was about, only to suddenly feel my lips becoming more firmly acquainted with my teeth by what I can only assume was a branch flicking back after the rider in front.

Face claret aside, I had a bunch of fun on the sandy trails. Big drifts of powdery silica would often appear out of nowhere. You'd be mid pack, following wheels, having a chat, and suddenly back wheels were weaving more than an 17th century English serf, and that was just the flat or uphill sections. One chute of single track held more drift action than an Toyota AE86. Half way down, having just cleared the series of 3 drops, the rider in front decided to have a little nap. Braking wasn't an option, turning? I don't think i could do that... bunny hop? hahahaha.

Anyway, I've got many GB of GoPro footage to get through at some stage, and a front tyre to whack sealant into before the Xmas Belgie on Wednesday morning.

Strava link.

D: 59.3km
A: 547m

PMPW: 86kg

Saturday, 12 December 2015


Hell Ride:
Fair play summer, you lulled me into a false sense of warmth, then hit me with sub 10°C temperatures when I'd put away my gloves for the year. Not once before leaving home did I consider arm warmers might be desirable, let alone necessary. Fair play, you got me!

Some time on the way down to Frankston, I rolled up next to Mitch Docker, nodded, smiled and asked what he was up to. I meant in general terms, but his answer was specific to today. He was getting some speed work before the super crit (it's tomorrow). I laughed and rolled a few turns, not because I too wanted some 'speed work', but more that it was better than ending up blown into the gutter and left to grovel.

I had some fun on the hills, but the highlight for me was being back home with a couple of coffees in my belly by 10am. Riding with pros, attacking mates, and general high speed tom foolery is great, but getting to put your feet up and watch endless fishing shows with 100km already in the bank is, to quote an ad, priceless.

Strava link.

D: 100.8km
A: 408m

PMPW: 86kg

Friday, 11 December 2015


CX Shenanigans:

Strava link.

D: 32.7km
A: 374m


D: 13.2km
A: 62m

PMPW: 87kg

Thursday, 10 December 2015


I saw a photon checking in at Tullamarine, the clerk asked if he had any luggage, to which he replied “No, I’m travelling light.

D: 27.2km
A: 140m

PMPW: 87kg

Wednesday, 9 December 2015


Yarra Trails Belgie:
What started as a small group of 4 for a regular Belgie, ended up just being Bing and I ducking into every bit of Yarra trails single track we could spy.

The little shit is fast. At one point I found myself reciting an old mantra, hoping it'd help me ease back up to his wheel.

"Slow is smooth, smooth is fast."

It lasted about three repetitions before my lizard brain took over and demanded I start mashing on the pedals constantly. Obviously that resulted in classic roadie on dirt lines, and a pedal catching an obscured log, sending my opposing foot's toes into the end of my shoe and my gentlemanly region perilously close to my stem.

I obviously need more dirt time... anyone for CX Friday?

Strava link.

D: 57.4km
A: 514m


D: 13.1km
A: 74m

PMPW: 86kg

Tuesday, 8 December 2015


Ricktastic Tuesday:
A message from Rick arrived at 5:18am. "I'm kind of ignoring the radar. It's warm". It's what took me thoughts about going back to bed, and rolling out the door for a good session and a solid chat.

Friendships are formed on shared experiences, and while today wasn't an epic battle together against the elements, lightning flashing bright enough to illuminate the inside of nostrils certainly took it to a step above a regular two up halfwheelathon.

Strava link.

D: 53.2km
A: 632m

I had more flats on my way home from work tonight, than I've had in the past six months combined. So what started as plenty of time, and a tailwind, turned into me being far far later than normal, battling a headwind.

It was a ride I'd rather soon forget, but at the end I asked myself if I still liked bikes. I do... but I might take out the CX bike instead of the roadie tomorrow... just to be sure.

D: 13.2km
A: 65m

PMPW: 86kg

Monday, 7 December 2015


What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?

D: 26.8km
A: 133m

PMPW: 88kg

Sunday, 6 December 2015


I probably could have snuck a ride in somewhere today, maybe just a much needed session working on my FTP, but I'm mindful of my recovery right now.

For a start I'm feeling tired, and secondly my weight is slowly creeping back up, which could be signs I need a few days or maybe a week of easing back.

I did get out the old massage stick and start the slow process of loosening off the piano wires that are my calves right now.

PMPW: 87kg

Saturday, 5 December 2015


Hell Ride:
There were a few moments that weren't awesome, like the dog that ran across the road mid bunch as we descended at 75km/h off Olivers Hill, or the car that thought my arse needed to be polished with his wing mirror. As shit as they were, they were outshone by the rad moments.

Like, sitting pretty on James Cummings wheel as he whacked Hopes Rise, I turned to check the damage as we crested the top and saw that 3 of us had gone well clear. I suggested we carry on, but Jimmy didn't want a bar of it. The attack had been all he had, and he was actually worried I'd tear him apart on the next hills. A bit later I had a chat to Jez Hunt. Bensley, and more importantly to Jez, Ray Forbes had gone off the front. He asked if I'd chase it down.

Two moments, two good hard efforts, but more than that, two moments where guys I respect gave some to my legs/fitness/me. One who'll race his first elite road nationals this year (and I imagine finish with the much diminished bunch), the other who won both the UK and Aus races (the Aus title went to Jamie Drew, the first Aussie finisher).

Strava link.

D: 100.3km
A: 376m

PMPW: 87kg

Friday, 4 December 2015


Some of my mates argue that there's no hipsters south side, but that's not true! Just today I saw one burn his tongue. He drank his coffee before it was cool.

D: 27.9km
A: 147m

PMPW: 87kg

Thursday, 3 December 2015


6am NRR:
Stood up twice in one week by Youngie, but unlike Tuesday there was no spin in my legs. There was no spin, and there was no oomph. Maybe I should have stayed in bed, but what's done is done, I'll just put an extra coffee in my face and get some extra shut eye tonight.

Strava link.

D: 44.0km
A: 143m


D: 25.2km
A: 103m

PMPW: 87kg

Wednesday, 2 December 2015



D: 25.2km
A: 113m

St Kilda East - HCC Crits - St Kilda East:
I felt tired today, at work I just wanted to curl up and have a nap, but I figured I'd shelled out my entry fee already, so should get the training done. Standing around pre-race I joked that being tired meant I was either flying, or in trouble... honestly, I thought I was in trouble, there was not Brendan Canty, but it was a small bunch and that generally means agressive racing.

So I started off with no expectations, floated around the front, then the back, then back around the front. A break stayed up the road for a while so I eventually decided to help chase it, but it came back after I'd only done one. I'm not trying to claim I dragged them back either, just sharing the relief that I didn't have to put in multiple times.

Anyway, after a while I realised I wasn't hurting. Sure I was still giving up a wheel length every time through the corner. Sure that frustrated me because I felt like I was pushing in at the same speed, and on the same lines as anyone else... but I had that wheel length covered. I assumed it was because everyone else was holding back.

It wasn't until some late attacks came, and I quickly covered off gaps or jumped onto wheels that I finally twigged that maybe I was in half decent shape, but by this stage AJ was up the road with Business Wilkie, at best I was racing Troy Clarke and Pat Drapac for 3rd. Then Wilkie came back, and AJ wasn't too far away. A guy jumped up the right of the hill, and I was straight on him... but everyone was on me. We got the 3 lap sign and a couple more went, I waited, I didn't want to go alone, but we were running out of time, so on 2 laps I went, and drew out Tom Christie. I asked him to come through, then launched off him down the bottom straight. I caught a couple who were trying to bridge, and went straight through. Up the climb, just AJ and Warrack ahead of me and I was catching. Down the hill and I could see them thinking about tactics, I glanced under my arm, and didn't see the bunch, but couldn't risk slowing, I went past them, hoping they were too tired to get on.

Into the last corner, I am the first rider on the final lap, and I'll be honest I had thoughts of the win. I took the corner conservatively, if anyone was on my wheel they'll have to slow to my pace, and I'm confident that I can push hard up the hill. AJ slips around me before the bend in the hill. 2nd, I can still race for 2nd, Warrack surely didn't make it on... but he had, and was steadily passing me. I was ugly on the pedals, but it was to no avail as he had my measure to the line. I glanced back again, why would I look, just go, just keep going... but I needed to know if I could stop pedaling and try and give my spasming diaphragm some space.

3rd, on the podium, in the money, a first for me at HCC, and the first one in some years. To think that last race I DNF'd.

Strava link.

D: 47.9km
A: 503m

PMPW: 87kg

Tuesday, 1 December 2015


I had two bikes prepared last night, my roadie for if it was clear, and cross rig in the case it was raining. I checked the radar, I rechecked the radar... I got the cross bike out, then at the last moment swapped shoes and bike, and headed for Northy on the off chance Youngie came and we'd have coffee.

There was no Youngie, in fact there weren't many people at all, and for some reason, in my head this meant I should do cadence drills. Yeah I'm not really sure either, but the rules are old ones. Little ring, no 11 or 12 tooth cog. I made Mordi and decided to keep it going, but at Brighton beach when it hit mid 56km/h, I shifted up.

After the joy of rolling a few turns at 130rpm, I decided I'd have a crack at the sprint from 1km out. I figure such a move is my best chance of winning SKCC's crit, so why not practice. I telegraphed the whole thing with more fanfare than Alex G. Bell's original missive, and dragged Lach and Sam along. Right, so something to work on. Hit harder, or when no one is looking.

Strava link.

D: 55.0km
A: 162m


D: 12.2km
A: 70m

PMPW: 87kg