HUGGBEES

Bryan lied to me. He told me that he hadn’t done any training, and that we should look at a 5 hour time to finish this. Since I had recently gotten myself involved with a bad bout of the flu, I was quite keen on the 5 hour thing. I even started to look at the whole ride as a nice training base ride. LOADS of people told me not to ride with the flu (which Anelie started to call a resistant strand of TB), but because it was a base ride, there was no reason not to ride it.

Last year when I rode the 94.7, I’d done the OFM Classic in Bloem two weeks before. I was probably in the best form of last year (skinny, strong, and quick), and because Bryan hadn’t trained we figured we’d do it at a leisurely pace. Which was the case really; he suffered a lot through that ride, and I thought on the whole that the course was flat. I’d pretty much sprint up the hills, and wait at the top of the hill. Oh how the mighty have fallen…

Somewhat unrelated, but it all started the day before race day. Anelie decided to organise a picnic with a few friends of hers from work, and her new boyfriend, Jeff. What she failed to tell Zweli and myself was that this picnic was essentially on the outskirts of Bloemfontein (Zweli said Krugersdorp, but I’m sticking with Bloem). It took us forever to get there, and when we got there Anelie made us walk around in circles (never ever believe her directions). The picnic was great, but everytime I coughed there was drama. You see Jeff (an excitable young man, who is a great guy) is a personal trainer. He took the side of all the other haters that didn’t want me to ride, spoke of hearts blowing up blah blah blah. Of course, everyone else at the picnic jumped on the bandwagon. This bad mojo weighed heavily on my spirit; and as it would turn out on my mind, lungs, and legs as we headed for race day.

Race day started well enough, or so I thought. Anelie was on time, I was ready-ish, and off we went to fetch Bryan. On the way, I tried to hunt down my timing chip. We went back to Zweli’s house, but it wasn’t there either. I’d left it in Anelie’s car (we were using her dad’s bakkie) the day before. So now I could ride, but wouldn’t get a time. Shit. We pick Bryan up, and on the way to the start, I ask Bryan about his race number and whether he has pins to secure both our numbers to our kit (I have to mention at this point that Bryan organised me a SWEET RMB Morgan Stanley cycling top *swoon*). Bryan had forgotten his number, so off back to his house we go; and he couldnt’ find it - he’d left it at his office. At this point it looked like Bryan couldn’t start, and I couldn’t prove that I’d ridden.

We got to the start, met Bryan’s friends and started to go up to find our starting pen. En route, I spotted some people sitting down the middle with lots of race info packs. I told Bryan to go see if he can’t get his number; and he did. Now the fucker could actually start, but I still couldn’t prove that I had ridden. So off they go and I follow them, still going up to our starting pen. I see a WinningTime van (WinningTime is the official time keeping company), and go over to it, trying to get a timing chip. The dude tells me that yes, I can get a new one, but no they don’t take credit cards. With my phone off, and Bryan too far ahead; I had to once again kill that glimmer of hope of getting a time, and just ride for shits and giggles.

In fact, now that I think about it, this story of bad mojo had started two days before I even left East London. The actual details of what happened remain classified, and outside the scope of this discussion. The outcome though was that I lost my wallet, someone picked it up, called the bank, the bank called me and I got someone to pick up wallet. Because I had my drivers license in the wallet, I decided to cancel all the cards that were in the wallet just in case (once bitten…). Of course, I was told that it’d take 5 working days on average to get them (and I’d of course be in Jhb). This left me with minimal access to funds, or cash. I mention this because if I hadn’t gone on clandestine missions; I’d have had cash to pay for a new timing chip, and would consequently have a time. Shit.

So we get into a pen, and start the ride. We were so far behind the rest of the group that we didn’t even know that it was our group starting. We were still chatting and walking casually when we noticed that everyone else was blasting off. Heart rate monitor gets started, and off we go. Then I notice that my speed sensor is not working, which means my distance won’t be recorded accurately etc. That’s #2 going wrong now, and I’m bleak but riding with a group you can’t really stop and fuck with stuff like that. So I rode on, thankful that at least my heart rate data was being recorded. I was already feeling that it’d be a tough ride, as I was struggling to breathe, and my legs were feeling heavy.

Around 15km into the ride, on a beautiful flat/downhill area, I’m busy trying to catch a passing group so we’ll sit behind them; and I feel my bike’s not particularly stable. I move in an “S” to test handling, and I was sure I’d punctured. Moved to the side of the road, and I was right. Luckily, at the expo I’d bought a spare tube, so Bryan waited and helped while I changed tubes. We wasted some time there, and finally got going. Now we’re on the uphill section and I figure I might as well fix my speed sensor. I stopped again, and adjusted it, then caught up to Bryan and we rode. At this point, I was constantly bitching to Bryan about how much I was suffering and how badly my lungs were burning and I couldn’t breathe. I was seriously considering quitting, but was angry about the mishaps; and since I was already riding I might as well finish.

I started cramping around the 40km mark and it didn’t really stop until the end. My back was killing me, and most of all I struggled to breathe. The pace that Bryan rode up hills was too slow, and resulted in me riding at a cadence of between 40-50rpm. On my bike, without a compact crank, it feels like weight training. So I’d speed up the hills to keep a decent cadence, for it to hurt my cramping legs less. The downside of this of course was that my heart rate was elevated, I needed more air, and of course I couldn’t really breathe all that well. I was screwed, either way. I maintained this higher cadence thing because the inability to breathe properly seemed less painful than the onset of a full-on cramp. I continued this way until the finish.

Bryan did it in 3h49, which is much better than last year’s time, which was over 4h. I finished probably 30s or so ahead of him, but I couldn’t prove it I think that time is fantastic, considering the puncture, stopping either once or twice for water at the water points and how much I generally suffered. Essentially every hill we came to, I’d turn to Bryan and say “I don’t remember this hill being here”. It was a beautiful day to cycle (apart from the head wind at points), and a great ride. I’d like to say I’ll never ride with the flu again, but I probably will. At least now, I’ll know exactly what I’m letting myself in for.

I will, however, never forget my timing chip again. Or believe Bryan’s finish time estimates.

So where are you? What are you up to? what are you? I can’t believe that I had to join this stupid forum just to get in touch with you… I hate you for that.
I’m working in Tanzania as a Rock prostitute, I live in Canada in a small town called Chicoutimi (you can have as much fun as you like with that one). I have been dating someone for more than 6 months (actually into year number 3). My ego was crushed once by an idiot and I now hate tequila with a passion!! My thesis is for defense in September - you can call me Dokta. And of course I have missed you terribly!
Me in a very Large Nutshell!
Write back!!!
T.

Say it with me: Coolest person in the world.

Was seeded group K, but dropped down to group GG to ride with Nick. Was not feeling all that strong after certain extra-curricular activities, so this turned out to be a really good thing. We started riding fairly slowly coz Nick didn’t want to push too hard upfront (I tend to get caught up in the excitement of the start). Then, effectively without warning, on this large hill Nick passes me, stands up and pumps up the hill. I just tucked down and kept his wheel; it was a REALLY nice pull. We got to the top and I thought I should take my turn at the front. A few times he dropped back watching his heart rate not exceed 171, or getting it back down.

There was a big dude (not fat, just big) who was riding with us from the start. During Nick’s pull, we’d put some distance on him. On a flat/downhill section, he had gravity on his side and passed us. I quickly got us back on his wheel, and we were cruising along at a very decent speed. Another old man joined us in standard bank but was not riding predictably. I figured it was my turn to lead the group, so passed him and the big dude to the front. Nick got lost in traffic a couple of times, and I waited turning to ask if he was ok. Then we started a longish climb, and I was still pulling. Turned around a couple of times, but couldn’t see Nick. Not to repeat last year’s Argus, I decided that I’d leave him and he’d catch up or maybe had passed me. This was about 40km into the ride.
The big dude and I started talking, exchanging our thoughts on the different parts we were doing. On the first of the really long hills, he told me he didn’t like the hill; so I went up front and pulled him up it. Pulling a “train” of people while passing others is quite the exhilarating feeling. We rode together like this till the base of Chapman’s Peak. Throughout the ride I was admiring just how strongly he was riding; if he got tired, he recovered quickly and nailed the pace again. Like he could ride the whole thing and not get tired.

At the start of Chapman’s, 24km or so to the end, I started cramping in both legs; the quads. The day before, Nick and I had gone for an hour’s ride and I somehow hurt my left hamstring. So I was quite surprised to have my quads complaining; best explanation I could come up with was that to avoid hurting hamstring I was making quads work more. I don’t know these things, so it’s just a guess. I tried to stop pedaling in the hope that the cramping will go away, but it seemed to become tighter so I kept riding slower, same thing. Rode faster and it was still hurting but not as much. At this point, my fellow rider had dropped me, so I pedaled to get back on his wheel. He pulled me up the whole of Chapman’s Peak at a pace I definitely wouldn’t have managed on my own. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

On top of Chapman’s I thought I’d freewheel down and rest. There was no other option really, either that or get off and get a massage. With his bigger stature and the fact that I’m about as aerodynamic as a square car, he dropped me conclusively down the hill. I did briefly try to catch up, but my legs seized again. Welcome to Suikerbossie; my FUCK! On Granny, the legs just hurt too much, so I went one gear up and lowered cadence. It hurt but at least I could climb that fucker. This year Suikerbossie was definitely much harder for me than Chapman’s. There were silly fuckers on the side of the road laughing at us suffering; I might have sworn at them. To add insult to injury, two SKINNY fuckers who started in group JJ (two groups back; around 6 to 10 minutes after us I think) passed me as if I was standing still. I swore at them too.

Downhill again, and my belief in god was stronger than it’d ever been this year; and I was truly thankful! I passed those that I could (my legs seemed to smell the close-by finish, and hurt less). With about 3km to the finish, I came across a fucker wearing group GG. I made it my personal mission to beat him. I sat on his wheel for the next kilometer, was passed by a tandem, I sat on their wheel. With 500m to go, I put the last of the effort I didn’t know I had into a sprint and got the the line first.

Final time: 3h31.04, coming 4th/633 in group GG. I was, and am, very grateful that I rode in group GG. Apart from the fact that it allowed me to enjoy some Peroni on Friday and Saturday, the guys in group K would have killed me coz I was not at my best. The big dude I rode with beat me by 40 seconds in the end, which I’m quite impressed with (and this was his 10th Argus).

Last year after doing the Argus, I said it was “easy”. To put it into perspective, I took almost 1.5 hours more to do it last year. So, of course it seemed quite easy. It is anything but easy, particularly when you put on the pace and then having to climb two huge hills in the latter part of the race. It is hard.

Mike, my local cycling hero, did it in 3h15. Being beaten by him by 15 minutes and he started in group C makes me feel pretty good. He’d beaten me by 6 minutes in the 94km Dispatch race. I need to start asking him to train with me, seeing as I’m not THAT useless anymore; it’d be fun to see what we do differently - apart from him being fitter.

Next race is the Makana One Brick 80.4km in Grahamstown which also has a motherfucker of a mountain to climb on the way home. It is in May sometime. Thereafter is the Knysna Rotary 100km, which was my first sub-4h last year on my mountain bike. For the first time, I’ve entered myself as a licensed rider for it; see how I do with the ‘good’ people. I’d like to do 3h00 for it, but that depends on how much I train. I have 16 weeks or so till then; which seems like enough time. I hope I use it well.

Yesterday I did the Dispatch 94km race. (aside: my dogs have just figured out how to open the door. I closed them outside, and they are now inside.) Anyway, Saturday I went for registration and happened to stand behind one of the guys who laughed at me. He was bragging to his mate about how easy the “new route” would be; hard going up and FAST coming back. Sunday morning, I made sure I was close to him before the start. He was literally infront of me. I overtook him in the first 200m and never saw him again. I wish I’d kept his race number to point out how much of a little bitch I made out of him. That’ll teach him to laugh at me! Fucker.

As with every race, I have something to complain about. With this race, it’s that I went spinning on Thursday (2 back to back spinning classes where I “clocked” the spinning bike). Friday a spinning session to “cool down”. Sunday morning before the race, my legs were still hurting. Upfront I remember telling myself “I just don’t have the legs to do this today”.

But with that came a proof. If you ride close to the leaders, and push even beyond your limits, you will end up with a good time. I suffered for the first 12km of the ride, just trying to keep a wheel infront of me so lessen my burden. All the reassurance I could muster came from me telling myself “They have to get tired at some point! At that point, I can rest too.” They did get tired, and I got some rest. But as usual, you have the fuckers who are stronger than the rest of the group and just wanna punish those ‘hanger-on-ers” like me.

After about 15km, our group split up with about 10 riders pulling at a great pace away from us. Because the pace off the start was heavy, it seemed noone was particularly keen to hold them back or chase them. So we just stuck as a group of between 10 to 15, picking up the odd backmarkers from the licensed group that had gone 5 minutes ahead of us. Throughout the ride, we picked up 6 of those initial riders.

With about 20km to go, some dude decided to break away from our bunch and ride the ride of his life. He took off with such pace noone even dared trying to catch him. I was still hurting and exhausted, so I just made sure I kept a wheel infront of me and that I wasn’t dropped (particularly by being too far back: when you’re too far back, the front dudes change the pace and you have to put WAY TOO MUCH effort to catch up by the time it gets to you).

So I tried to stay about halfway in the pack throughout the ride, and watching out for this young kid who although he rode really well, just sucked at control. He seemed to want to have a conversation with whoever he was riding next to, and not worry about the bike. So he ended up bumping against people. On noticing this, and with my ipod headphones in, he tried to talk to me when I pulled up next to him. I ignored him, pretending my ipod was playing although it wasn’t.

5km to the end of the race, everyone’s jockeying for position. I didn’t think I had the legs to sprint away from the pack, so I just held my position to try and not get dropped. 1km to go, a group of 5 pulled away from the rest of the pack at pace. I managed to keep the wheel of (and I’m ashamed to admit) a girl. With about 300m to go, I decided it was time to brave it. Surprisingly I had the legs, and I put QUITE the distance between me and the pack.

Overall, out of the 94km group, I finished 65th - 30mins from the leaders (ouch). Of the unlicensed group though (non-pro, I guess), I finished 6th overall in a time of 2h49. It is worth noting that my laughing nemesis was not riding in our [front-runner] group.

He’ll greet me the next time I see him on the road…

They were right to, of course, but still.

I went cycling this morning in the wee hours of the morning, when it was ridiculously cold. I decided to wear my favourite cycling top. It is one I bought when I was in Jhb for the 94.7, and is a 94.7 cycling top. Red, well designed, beautiful. A ladies top. It took me a while to work this out, but even after I’d worked it out it didn’t really matter - I had bought it, and what am I to do with it; wear it around the house? So to prevent too many people from laughing at me I wear it when I train early in the morning before people go to work or school etc (school kids are particularly nasty, the fuckers!).

Add to this the fact that I’m not the world’s most graceful person on a bicycle. The dude who won the polka dot jersey in the Tour de France from Barloworld is probably about 10 times more graceful than I am. It is not a good combination, with that particular cycling top. Most people wouldn’t know the difference between a male and female top but the cyclists do. And they laugh.

Before this, the last time I wore it was during the day (before I’d worked out that it was a ladies top), and some guy passed me while I was riding easy. He then turned and laughed; openly. Not knowing that he was laughing at my top, I assumed he thought he was laughing at me for being so slow. I chased him, and waited till a hill to Schwinnnnnnn (private joke) past him at pace; then I turned and gave him a stare-down. He now smiles and greets me when we meet on the road.

This morning I decided to tackle all the hills that bother me, which meant my ride took longer than I expected. This coincided with people going to work, school, and cyclists on their bikes heading home. One particular group (3 guys) were climbing a hill I’d just climbed as I went down again. I think they saw my flap (the ladies tops have a flap on the lower back portion) and giggled. One guy in particular I recognised from the Herald VW race I did this last Sunday. He rode in my group, but I’m not sure if I beat him or not (Rode my best time 3h23.20 for 105km, but there’s a lengthy explanation that I actually sucked and was just pulled by the group I rode in before they unceremoniously dropped me).

Sunday the 17th Feb is the Daily Dispatch cycle tour. I hope the dude I recognised is riding in that. I will hunt him down and will kill myself trying to just beat HIM. That’ll teach him that it’s not the ladies top that maketh a cyclist, but the thunder thighs. Fucker.

So last night I was half burgled. Only half burgled because apparently someone got into the house, but the alarm went off and nothing was taken. I was at a friend’s wedding reception a 100km away when I got the call from the alarm company. The house is registered with my alarm company as my place of business, so the police responds together with the armed response. Neat little trick to have learned. I got my mom to come and meet them at the house while I did some low flying to get here in what can only be called record time.

It is all my fault though. Firstly, I hate burglar bars. Everyone bitched and moaned when I didn’t have them fitted and I just ignored them, insisting that’s why I have an alarm. Secondly, I like airing the house out. So whenever I’m in the house, like now, both the front and back doors are open, and every window in the house. I live with 2 dogs, so it is quite important to have the house not smelling altogether like dog. Or *ahem* alcohol.

So I left the house at 8am, firstly to go to a funeral before meeting up with my mate for his wedding thing at 9am. This time, the groom was late, a whole 2.5 hours late. We then needed to still go to his bride’s family’s home for them to ‘release her’ then drive another 100km to Mphekweni Sun, where the wedding and reception would be held. The wedding was supposed to start at 11h30 at Mphekweni, but by 14h00 we were still on our way there (after the ‘release’ delay). I was driving the groom, and was the lead car. At 14h00, the hotel called to say staff were being released, so we should get there in a hurry if we wanted them to keep them for an extra shift. All I can say is how much fun it is driving that fast, and having everyone trying and having to keep up. Very cool.

At around 22h00, I got the dreaded call from my alarm company. I asked a friend who was with me to answer the call (I don’t answer Private Number calls or numbers I don’t have stored on my phone). Thus began the low flying coming home. The police, armed response and my mom had checked that nothing was missing though and locked up (and closed the windows I’d left open!). I still wanted to get here and have a look myself, as I felt a little violated.

My decoration dogs are alright too, mind you. When I spoke to alarm company, apparently zone 3 (the kitchen PIR) had gone off [first]. My neighbour from across the road (who never greets me except when we’re drunk at this bar I used to go to; another story) tells me he saw ‘people’ walking through the house from his place. I should be ashamed to admit that my first note to self was “my front wall needs to be higher.” I have some doubts about his, and his daughter’s, account though. I think they may have seen the lights coming on on sensing movement, but not necessarily someone walking through the house - unless the alarm company has the zone story wrong.

When the police arrived, they found one of the windows flung WIDE open but strangely this was the window further from the door. I would imagine someone breaking in trying to at least get the door open; unless of course they figured they’re avoiding the door contacts - not thinking I’ve been burgled a few times and have a PIR covering just about every part of the house. Then alarm went off, and the ‘guy’ ran. I got an earful from the alarm company that if I had given them a gate remote, they’d have caught the guy - but because my wall is so high, they have to sit outside working out how to climb it first. (This morning I gave them a remote for this place. Incidentally, they had the same problem at my old place and I had given them a remote for that after much bitching from them. I just don’t seem to learn!)

So I didn’t get too much sleep; not out of fearing for my life or anything, coz I think they’re just opportunistic these burglars. I therefore don’t think they’d try get into the house while I’m here. An interesting thing was said by my neighbour though, to my mom, that the dogs did not bark at all until the alarm went off. (All he said to me was “It’s your own fault for leaving the windows open!” I begrudgingly thanked him and walked away).

I’m doing some building work at the back of the house. The builders arrive at 7am every morning. I have given them a remote for the gate, and key for the front door. This is so that I don’t have to wake up that early to let them in, or keep them waiting outside when I forget. The fact that the dogs didn’t bark certainly indicates that it may be one of them who tried to get in, or at least someone they told about my decoration dogs and how to deal with them so they won’t bark. Just a guess. Also they’d know that I never close the windows (they usually close them for me when they leave at the end of the day when I’m not here).

I had been considering putting an electric fence all the way around the property, but it seems too much like living in a cage. This is the same reason I dislike burglar bars. Those seem to be my only two options though, taking into account that my dogs don’t “work” as a deterrent. Looking at the possible dynamics of last night’s attack, it seems that burglar bars would have worked (and mean that I can still leave my windows open). So tomorrow I stop being headstrong and get burglar bars. If they strike again, then I’ll get an electric fence put up (another reason I hate it is that it makes it seem like you have something of great value to protect).

Crime and crime stats don’t actually get to mean very much until something is done to you. Even then, you try to balance your “quality” of life versus the need to feel more secure (and your odd habits like being too lazy to close the fucking windows). The alarm company I got I chose because they’re a shoot first ask questions later type crowd. Now that they have a remote to get onto the property, I’m quite keen to come home after my alarm has gone off and find a burglar dead on my front yard. That should send quite the signal.

My next house, I reckon, will be in a small security complex with 24 hour security. I know bad things still happen in those, but the illusion that a gated and completely walled complex will be more secure, sits better with me than the current ‘wildcard’ system.

“Unbelievably good things can happen; it’s such a surprise.”

– Under The Tuscan Sun

1. My sister passed her degree (BComm).

2. She’s been accepted for Hons in Economics.

3. She’s passed her learners license.

4. I have either extended or been extended olive branches by people I had written off.

5. I actually feel like working again.

6. I’m happy.

Casual ride this morning, usual route. Struggled, a lot. Some wind, but not enough to make me struggle quite that much. Clearly alcohol poisoning has an adverse effect on training. Did 13.4km at avg 20.8km/h.

In other news, my friend Dewald is putting me on the PowerPlate tomorrow. The point of today’s ride was to remind my body that it sometimes has other work to do apart from process alcohol. If today’s ride is anything to go by, I’m going to struggle on the PowerPlate. But it’ll be fun anyway; and today’s ride is sure to have a positive impact on tomorrow’s performance.

First things first. I beat Bryan. Only by like 20 seconds or something, but I still beat him. My year cycling wise makes sense lol. Really awesome ride though, and it was nice to ride in a race but not chasing down everyone who passed. Finished in 4h06 or something, which is slow, but it was great fun. Stats aren’t particularly interesting, avg heart rate 139 max 171. The heart rate zones are broken up as follows:

• Recreational (<60%) : 0h54 (22%)
• Aerobic Endurance (60-70%): 2h36 (64%)
• Aerobic Stamina (70-80%): 0h31 (13%)
• Lactate Threshold (80-90%): 0h04 (2%)
• Maximum (90-100%): 0h00 (0%)

Much thanks to “the spectator”, Anelie. She even took pics and put them up on Facebook and everything. If she keeps this up, we may invite her to more races, call her groupie, and build a [slow] team

Stunning race, very fast. Stats:

• Average heartrate: 155, Max: 189
• Distance: 110.7km, Time: 3h32.00
• Average speed: 31.3km/h (New high), Max: 78.6km/h (New high)
• Average cadence: 90, Max: 131
• Min temp: 18, Average: 24, Max: 31
• Ascent: 625m, KCal: 2222

Problem areas: hydration and eating.