Being a cycling widow

When Iain first started training for the Etape back in 2007, he warned me that he wouldn’t be around much. He spent a lot of time on the bike trainer and out on the roads and I spent a lot of time doing stuff without him, cooking dinner to be ready when training was over for the night and encouraging him to try to get a few early nights and eat/drink a bit less. He seemed to appreciate both the support and the permission to get out there and do it without feeling like he was abandoning me.

The payoff for me is that he was so obviously enjoying himself, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the exercise and devising training plans, routes and timings and spending up big on bike kit. I tried to keep his feet on the ground a little with gentle advice about not overdoing it, keeping the credit card expenses down to a dull roar (what is it about men and Wiggle?) and motivating him when the ‘I need a rest day’ card was played too many days in row.

I’m a cyclist and cycling fan anyway, so there were lots of bonuses from Iain being in the Etape du Tour – not least a free team jersey – and going to France for the event was the main one. It was amazing to see that quantity of cyclists together as well as the thousands of people who’d turned out to support them. At the breakfast stop I took my cue from another cycling widow next to me who had a large flag, and held up my sarong printed with enormous sunflowers so that Iain would see where we were standing with his food in enough time to be able to pull over to us across the steady stream of riders. She’d done it all before and we were able to exchange stories and advice, which was good for morale. There was tons of local support on the route as well and it was inspiring to stand by the side of the road in a small village where the band had turned out to play the riders through. It seemed like it was very much a carnival atmosphere for them, to be repeated on a similar scale a week later when the Tour de France itself powered through. Also inspiring to watch the riders at all stages of the race where we spectated, especially on the finish line where many of them chose to sit back, put their hands in the air and spin over the line like their were Tour de France stage winners – not Iain! I had the video camera going from the minute he came into view as I knew he’d be head down, powering for the line, crushing everyone in his wake – and he was. Nothing to do with the fact he can’t ride no-handed, I’m sure. (I taught myself to do it a couple of years ago in Battersea Park, just in case I ever win a bike race.)

Anyway, all this inspiration rubbed off on me, and by Christmas 2007 I was enthused enough about getting a road bike to ask my boss to put a tax free bike scheme in place (www.cyclescheme.co.uk) and bought a Specialized Elite. It’s not quite a case of ‘If you can’t beat him, join him’ but I rode the Etape Caledonia with Iain (well, a couple of hours behind him) in 2008 which felt like a great achievement for me. I didn’t spend hours training but worked on the basis of a nice equation Iain picked up early in his training: you should be able to ride in one long outing at the weekend the same mileage as your total weekday commuting miles. It just meant not catching the bus on rainy days and keeping the miles in my legs building up. I wasn’t going for any sort of time, just a finish without walking up any hills, and I managed that proudly.

Another opportunity for me to explore cycling through Iain’s training was in Spring 2007, when I suggested tying in a possible advance training ride for Iain in ‘proper’ mountains with an activity weekend for me in the Pyrenees. This worked very well and we flew out to Barcelona with the bike box and were driven up into the high mountains for a few nights with Activities Abroad. Simon, the activity provider and Jo, his gourmet cook partner were very welcoming and Iain was able to get out and ride a couple of Cat 1s and an HC (the steepest mountain type in the TdF: Hors Categories, literally ‘too steep to categorise’) I, on the other hand, was driven to a ski station, given a mountain bike, and taught to ride it at speed for 17km downhill. I have never had so much fun on a bike in my life! We discovered several things – firstly that I was more fearless than Iain downhill and secondly that he needed to get his brakes upgraded as soon as he got home. In 2008 I admired Iain’s ‘beautiful madness’ riding the Marmotte in the Alps last summer but had no desire to join him uphill. He did say I would love the Col du Lautaret which is 36km of downhill but I decided I would need someone to drive me up there.

Coming up to last Christmas, Iain’s enthusiasm for training was waning a bit but I heard about a new idea, a spinning studio opening in Putney (www.pedalstudio.co.uk). I decided to join and got stuck in when they opened in January. Under the tutelage of spinning instructors who are also cyclists themselves, I quickly started to feel more energised and positive on the bike, and have been getting quicker and quicker on my commute with weekly sessions (cheers Richard!). New records break every week and I am no longer scared of going uphill (well, not the ones on my commute anyway). I even matched Iain’s time up Kingston Hill the other morning (although he wasn’t there to race against. We need to measure it properly for it to count!). During the early part of this year, Iain hasn’t been as motivated as in previous years, mainly due to illness and injury. I can’t force him to go out and train, when I know he should be on the bike if he wants to reach the targets he was aiming for, and I’ve found that all I can do is be enthusiastic and set a good example in my own riding. We’ve been out for a few rides together, and he even dragged me up Box Hill one day. We’ve also bought a tandem which is immense fun and if I think he needs to train harder, I can just sit back a bit and make him do all the work. He’s had less time to ride it now his training is full on and in earnest for TRAT and the Marmotte but when it’s all over we shall be out and about on it – roll on July and August!

In June, I’ll be willing him on while ‘cut-out Iain’ moves swiftly up the UK map on the wall in our kitchen (he made it for me during his John o’ Groats to Land’s End ride last year so I could mark his progress). In July I’ll be joining him in Bourg d’Oisans to cheer him on in the Marmotte again, and I am planning to ride up Alpe d’Huez while I’m there. I will need to hire a bike but I can’t stay so close to that cycling mecca and not take the opportunity. Again, the only target I have is to reach the top without getting off and walking. The only way I won’t do it is if Iain makes me cycle up the Lauteret – I much prefer the payoff of the 35km downhill to having to come back down the 21 hairpins of the Alpe!

Three years ago it would never have crossed my mind to do anything other than watch the Tour on tv, marvelling as the riders power up Alpe d’Huez at insane speeds. Now I’m actually planning to do it myself and it would not have happened without being part of Iain’s cycling odyssey. It’s a privilege to support him, learn from him, and be inspired by him! Chapeau!

An example of a TRAT project

Bambanani Home Based Care

Bambanani Home Based Care is a voluntary organisation located in Dikathole Informal Settlement – one of the most deprived areas of greater Johannesburg. There has been an informal settlement on this site for over 100 years and little has changed in that time. The Informal Settlements are a step down from the Townships. In a township, houses are made of solid material; in Dikathole the housing is made of corrugated tin and cardboard. There are usually only one or two rooms inside. Dikathole is largely ignored by the government and outside agencies. Unemployment in the settlement is extremely high – around 80%. Sanitation needs are totally disregarded, with communal water taps, sewage running openly down the streets and very infrequent collections of rubbish leading to a rat problem. There is a large industrial site very close to the settlement, from which fumes waft continually all day.

Yet , three years ago in these bleak and difficult conditions, a group of tough-minded people, most of them women, got together to form a voluntary group to support people in their neighbourhood who are affected by HIV/AIDS. The team members are all volunteers, though some receive a small allowance of around £44 per month from the Department of Health. Access to these grants often depends on whether the caregivers have received training, and this is something that BST is able to provide for projects such as Bambanani.

A Home Based Care (HBC) group is a collective of people who have come together with the purpose and desire to help friends and neighbours who they see affected by HIV/AIDS. They help those who are suffering, and their families and dependants. Often members of the HBC groups are also HIV positive.

The HBC workers are all volunteers, some of whom receive a stipend of around £45 a month from the Department of Health. They manage a caseload of patients, varying from 5 to 20 people who they visit once a week in pairs. Home Based Care work is a full-time job. In Gauteng, the area where the Bishop Simeon Trust works, the HIV infection level is 26-30% and up to 30% of households are believed to have an orphan or vulnerable child living with them.

A large part of the HBC group’s work involves care of children – some of them orphans, some of them with dying parents, some who are sick themselves or looking after younger siblings. HBC groups often have a preschool, creche or after school club attached to them where the children can come to get two good meals a day. There are also emotional benefits of being able to interact with others of their own age in a structured environment, instead of the trauma of being left at home to watch a parent die gradually. Bambanani is planning to operate a creche soon in a new container bought with BST funding.

Training is one of the most useful things that the Trust can offer HBC groups, and this is always the next stage after the group has established themselves. The Trust matches HBC groups with local service providers to access training in:

-Business and management skills – so that the group can form a managament committee to take the project further
- Care Skills & HIV Knowledge – essential to take care of patients, and educate families
- Supporting each other – the stresses and strains of HBC work mean that the volunteers need to support and help each other, through „Care of the Caregivers’ workshops.
-Legal and political knowledge – this is essential if the volunteers are to understand the childrens’ rights and entitlements.

The Trust also provides practical support to the groups, helping to buy food for patients, meals and toys for children at the preschools and creches, medicines, cupboards, chairs, tables and other equipment; as well as structures for the group to operate from.

How the Trust helped Bambanani
One of the biggest challenges facing newly formed Home Based Care groups is the lack of a building from which to do their work. Most newly formed groups meet in one of their members houses, but the group will usually grow too large for this to be sustainable. There might be a number of vulnerable children to look after, or the storage of food and medicines may become a problem. Also, if the Home Based Care project is housed in a tumble-down shack they may be invisible in their communities, and difficult for people to access.

The Bishop Simeon Trust gives many projects a much-needed base for their work by buying containers. A container is basically a shipping container that used to sit on top of a lorry transporting goods, but has outlived its usefulness. Companies transform these metal boxes into offices, telephone booths, hair salons, class rooms and the like. The advantage of these strutcures is that they are very strong, but easily adapted. Also minimal work is needed to prepare the site where the container will go. Each container costs around £3,000 to convert.

Throughout 2007 : BST assisted the HBC group expand their operation so that the project could support local income generation projects. For example the Trust supported the project by assisting them in acquiring sewing machines and fabric for the Bambanani group to make clothes to sell. Moreover BST began assisting Bambanani is establishing a day care facility for orphans and vulnerable children. Through the HB carers many children are discovered to be entirely alone and in need of basic care and love. The Bambanani group accordingly wanted to establish a second space to care for these children. Today over 15 children under the age of 5 are fed , clothed , bathed , taught and loved in the “makeshift orphanage” . A second container has been erected to actually house these children at night and school them during the day. 2008: In response to a chronic rise in food prices and the rising number of people in need of support – The Bambanani HBC group soup run is developed. Every Wednesday the HBC‟s go out to visit their patients with much needed food. Many if not all of those receiving support from the Bambanani group are too ill to work, and thus getting food is always difficult. This small yet nutritious meal of 500ml soup and half a loaf of bread is often all they get!

The work of the Bambanani group still continues- and the Trust hopes to be able to develop the capacity of the project to be able to support and care for more people affected by the devastating pandemic!

Etape Caledonia 2007

Before I was to ride the Etape du Tour, I had two other cyclosportives to go. The first of these in late June was the inaugural Etape Caledonia.

Here’s what I wrote not long after getting back from it (please note the distinct absence of an angry minority of locals ruining the event in this account):

When I originally entered this event I had in my mind the idea of riding under the hot June sun, and having to worry about sunburn and dehydration. Considering the ride was in Scotland, this was perhaps a silly assumption.

The weather forecast was very bleak, with heavy rain predicted for the entire weekend. While packing the day before travelling, I thought that there was something deeply wrong about packing waterproofs, overshoes and long sleeved cycle jerseys and trousers on midsummer day.

I travelled up in the rain, meeting my sister and her new bike at Stirling station and travelling from there by taxi to her home (wheelchair accessible taxis are a great thing, you can get two bikes inside them relatively easily).

We travelled up to Pitlochry on the Saturday to register and get our timing transponders and did so through depressingly heavy rain which boded ill for the next day. After registering we headed back, shelving our plans for a quick ride. On returning to Stirling we did do a quick 10k or so.

Worth mentioning that my sister was riding a brand new bike, the frame on her previous one inexplicably breaking. Riding a new bike is always an uncertain thing and it takes some time to get the fit right and be comfortable with the handling in turns and the braking qualities. Gear changes are rarely perfect on a newly bought bike either, bike shops generally offer you a free first service for a few weeks after purchase to help iron out this settling in problems.

I don’t think she enjoyed her first ride much, I just went along to spin my legs and make sure I was ok for the next day.

Setting off early the next day (6.30), the weather was ok, then poor, then ok again in different locations as we drove towards Pitlochry. On arriving there the weather was still a bit overcast but was dry enough. This was a morale boost as it was nice not to start in the pouring rain – making a snap decision not to wear wet weather gear I set off for the start as I had an earlier start time than my sister (they set us off in groups of 100). I was late and missed the start time for the 200 numbered riders and instead set off with a mixed bag of latecomers, just before the 400 numbered riders set off.

Although the roads were all closed to traffic, riders stuck to the left hand side at first. Not really filling the road until later on. The road climbed a bit here and there after the start, getting moderately steep in places with a few quick descents – a sharp turn on one of these caused a few crashes, I noticed a rider pulling twigs off himself and getting back up (and overtaking me a bit later but I passed him some time after that).

The initial pace was pretty fast, everyone getting a bit keen, I and a few others broke away from our group to catch the tail end of another one, getting a rest in their slipstream before powering on. A surprisingly long descent followed leading to the fast flat section on the north side of Loch Rannoch. In retrospect I could probably have gone faster here but I was trying to not blow up by doing too much too early.

Some of the locals were out here and there clapping as we went past which was encouraging; there was one touchingly large hand drawn sign saying “Go, Mummy go!” at the end of one drive. Passing the head of the loch, the road climbed and dipped a bit and I overtook riders here and there, reeling them in one by one. Occasionally a group of fast riders would blow past and I would latch onto them for as long as I could. With a bit more training and weight loss I could probably keep up, as it was I had already kept up with an initially quite fast group, broken away to a faster one and then ridden clear of those when it broke up, so I’m happy with how I was riding overall.

The rode was flat again for a section on the southern side of the loch before it diverted south-eastwards and started the climb up Schiehallon, the featured climb of the day. I didn’t find it all that bad, probably because my training has been focussed on the climbs – I managed to stay with a fast group that had caught me at the bottom of the climb and overtook a few that I didn’t see again after that.

The feed station was just past the top of the climb but I didn’t need to stop – was feeling fairly fresh as I had been eating flapjack on the go and had drunk very little water. It wasn’t that hot obviously and had rained here and there which helps to an extent but I drank a surprisingly small amount of water considering my pace.

After the feed station the descent really began and this is where the closed roads came into their own – knowing that cars weren’t about to come round the corner, I was able to brake a lot less than I otherwise would and to take the racing line. According to my bike computer I broke 100kph which was definitely an error (I have a wireless one and other ones sometimes interfere with it, as does vehicle detection kit in the road).

The descent was such great fun, it’s difficult to describe the difference between riding it on car free roads and normal riding – you focus on the riders ahead and the bends of the road that you can see, trying to catch the riders in front and anticipating the bends as they came up. Brake fade wasn’t an issue as I wasn’t using them much, or at least it felt like that.

Sadly the descent had to end and the course turned off on a loop towards Loch Tay before turning back onto a fast flat road, and I encountered flooded roads here and there – you just had to wheel through and hope there weren’t any potholes. The road surface throughout the course was generally good (and was excellent in places) so it didn’t feel to much of a step into the unknown.

On rejoining the faster road I was overtaken by another rider who then appeared to blow a little so I overtook him again – I was shortly after passed by a fast group that I latched onto the back of and hang on to them for some miles. With less than five miles to go, the route turned off the main road onto a sharp left turn which was quite steep for a short stretch with a bit more climbing after that – the group broke after that, the faster riders getting away from me although I kept clear of a few of them.

The last few miles were about keeping up the power on the last climb and reeling in stragglers. I fixated on any rider I saw in the distance and gradually made up the ground between us. Passing the eighty mile marker (one mile to go!) I decided to push for the line, passing another rider in sight quite quickly. The last mile was a bit longer than a mile (about 1.3 miles according to my computer) and I started to flag – seeing I was clear of other riders, I eased up a little for the last bit towards Pitlochry. However, coming round the corner I could see another rider in sight.

Having a final rabbit to chase motivated me for a push to the line – the cheers and clapping of spectators really encouraged me to sprint for the finish, with about 20 metres to go I sped past and over the final timing point, having to brake hard for the sharp right into the finishing enclosure – it gets a bit hazy for the next minute or so, you sort of stumble off your bike and hands pull at you and people help you take off your timing chip and give you water and your medal.

Two medics were working on the slumped form of a woman in the fast group that took me at the foot of the big climb, hope she was ok.

After that I met up with my brother in law and my sister’s youngest son Isaac. I felt reasonably fresh which was encouraging although I made the mistake of hanging around the finish for my sister to come in – I should have gone back to the car and got changed as I got quite cold waiting, which was just stupid.

My sister came in well inside the six hour mark she was aiming for, actually finishing just over the five and a half hour mark, a fairly impressive achievement on a new bike from the back of the field (they messed up her number so rather than starting in the 800s she was in the 1200s). It was a great time for a first sportive, faster than my showing in Peterborough earlier this year, more than two hours before the last finisher and more than 4 kph faster than the required average time for the Etape proper. I hope she feels justly proud.

Being further up the field at the start is an advantage – you’re riding with fast people from the off and even faster riders pass you now and again and you can latch onto these for a time.

My final time was 4:18:24 which I was very pleased with, putting me in the top quarter of finishers and just over half an hour behind the leader (and more than three hours before the final finisher).

The next day, I walked my sister’s dog, a border collie called Molly, who taught me the collie version of Fetch, which is known as “It’s My Stick Now. If You Wanted It Why Did You Throw It Away?”

Training: “In my gunfighter period, I was a terrible liar.”

I’ve been looking back at previous entries in my Livejournal for the things I wrote while training for the Etape in 2007 – one thing is clear, just how little I knew and what a terrible liar I was. More to myself than anyone else.

There’s a great entry from March of that year where I blithely talk of a “Leisurely ride from Macclesfield to Buxton…possibly taking in the Cat & Fiddle”. I didn’t go via the Cat and Fiddle in the end but instead via little back roads of hideous steepness. The only excuse for my very hubristic insouciance was my total ignorance. Oddly enough, there wasn’t a follow-up entry about this ride for some time – because it was horrible (Bryony has reminded me that I allegedly said “Don’t ever let me ride that way again”). There was lots of wailing, gnashing of teeth, crying for mummy (and a bit of walking up hills). This doesn’t seem to get a mention on my LJ though. It’s very hilly in Derbyshire, lots of steep hills and lots of weather. I did get out a fair bit but it was all very hard riding and I was wondering at that point whether I was attempting too much too soon.

Not long after that I was in Scotland for my sister Mairi’s wedding – a few days after her wedding I was out with her and her new husband riding in the hills near her home near Stirling. This was a lot more enjoyable. Although it was early April it was a lovely sunny day and a cracking ride overall – it was the first time I was starting to get any idea of the training starting to pay off. The route took us from Cambusbarron via back roads to Shielbrae then the Carron Valley Reservoir. From there we ended on the B822 which was a fantastic road, recently surfaced it climbed at a steady rate before dropping down the side of the hill at the sort of gradient I can allow myself to go relatively fast on. After that there was a bit of slog along the A803 to Kilsyth where we turned left and started climbing the steepest hill of the day (up what Google maps tells me is know as ‘Tak-ma-doon Road’ which was instead ‘Climb-up-slowly street’ in my case). After that we want back via the reservoir and Shielbrae.

Things started to get better after that – I rode my first Cyclosportive later the same month, a mostly flat 100+ miles in a circuit around Peterborough. I did ok but it was mostly a lonely ride for me as I couldn’t get to the start until very late due to trains from London (I had to cycle something like 16-20 miles just to get there due to some engineering works part way on the route, one of the problems with being a non-driving cyclist.

I remember it most as a long attempt to catch someone up, anyone – as I was almost the last to leave the start. On checking the results later I remember that I wasn’t last, which was good enough for me.

My training continued as normal then a few weeks later I was in Plymouth to stay with my friends Rupert and Jane – each night we got hammered on beer and red wine and each morning I somehow got out of bed at an early hour to ride out over Dartmoor. The weather was horrible everyday and on one level it would have been nice to say that I got out despite the weather because I was focussed, dedicated or some such other lies. In reality I think I was still drunk each morning and therefore too stupid to stay in bed. And the weather was really, really bad – it was the weekend of the Ten Tors, a challenge for teenagers – the rain was so bad that wet teenagers (that phrase might generate a bit of search traffic) were being driven off the moors in army trucks, in some cases being airlifted. I just kept riding.

Drunk or not, the three days that I got out over Dartmoor every day proved really useful later on as it was never, ever that bad outside again. When I rode up Alpe d’Huez solo in the rain last year I thought “It’s still not as bad as Dartmoor. I’ll keep going”.

(The title quote is from the film ‘Little Big Man’ in case it’s bugging you)

Time is valuable

Here’s a different approach to raising awareness. This guy who is planning to ride the 140 miles of the Coast to Coast (C2C) next month, is (unlike me) not asking you for money – he’s asking for your time.

http://grovesmedia.wordpress.com/2009/05/05/a-little-time-goes-a-long-way/

Worth a read.

TRAT Fundraising, by the Campaign Manager

(From Bryony)

I’m Bryony, Iain’s partner, and I’ve been charged with raising the bulk of the funds for his ride. We need to raise a minimum of £2000 and I’ve been working on the campaign for a couple of months now.

I’ve been approaching companies about possible corporate donations, and offering something rather unusual in exchange: a show by Medieval Fight Club, Iain’s history show which he puts on with Andy, a fellow medieval languages and history enthusiast, which is aimed at getting people interested in the subject in a fun way and giving people a chance to try swordfighting. So far a couple of companies have expressed interest, but there are no confirmed bookings to date. If you’d like Medieval Fight Club to come to your company summer party, or to adapt an event for your customers or clients, get in touch!

Several companies have already been very generous with donations of goods and services, and we’re going to hold an auction on 1st August to get the best prices for the items we’ve been given. So far, these include restaurant vouchers from Nandos, a microscooter from Putney Cycles, books from Murdoch Books and a taxi ride from GreenTomatoCars. We’ve found a brilliant auctioneer and an appeal has just gone out for more donations. They don’t just have to be from companies – if you have something lovely or useful which you’ve been meaning to take to a charity shop, why not donate it to us instead? I’ve selling my rollerblades (size 5) complete with wrist-protecting gloves,  so please have a think if there is anything you can spare us which can be sold for this excellent cause. Keep an eye on the Auction page which will be kept up-to-date with the items donated so far, and the reserve prices.

If you are inspired to join in with helping us fundraise, please read the ‘About’ page for full details of how you can spread the word via email, blogging, Facebook, Twitter, groups or clubs you attend, workplaces and so on. All suggestions for getting the word out there, especially creative ones, are welcome.

So far we’re about a quarter of the way to the target, and the anonymous donation of £200 is both gobsmacking, extremely generous and very, very welcome. Our thanks go out to you, as well as to all the others who have donated so far and who plan to help in whatever way you can!

Iain adds: I would like to thank everyone that has donated so far too – well over a quarter of the way to our total already – I can’t thank you enough.

Fitting Session: Part Two

Well I had my fitting session from Simon at Putney Cycles on Wednesday. It was a very interesting experience (and quite lengthy at nearly two hours) and I think will prove to have been very helpful, both in the short and long term.

The session is a system developed by Specialized as part of their ‘Body Geometry’ approach to their bikes and accessories and the session is complementary to that.

Quite a bit of the session involves assessing the rider before they are even on their bike, checking a wide range of flexibilities, stance, leg lengths relative to each other. It includes assessment of your feet, ankles, knees, hips, spine, neck etc, any issues with which might translate into discomfort and/or loss of performance when riding – it’s the discomfort side that I’m most keen to address of course.

Following that (and I haven’t captured anywhere near all of it) you get assessed on a bike, riding your own bike on a turbo trainer setup. Before you do that, the assessor measures and records all of the various distances/angles on the bike prior to any changes are made in the setup (you get given copies of all this information at the end of the session).

Assessment of me showed up a number of things which Simon then worked to address – by increments he raised the angle of my handlebars, lowered the seat and then changed the saddle angle (with me riding between each change). One thing I do is point my knees out a fair bit and the change in setup seemed to curb that a fair bit – it feels like there is a lot less pressure on my hands although after a discussion we agreed that it might be an idea to remove the gel from my bar tape as the combination of padded tape and padded gloves may be contributing to the ‘buzzy-hands’ numbness I mentioned in the earlier post (Shedon Brown’s site suggests this also a possible approach).

I’m also trying some inserts in my shoes to improve my foot position – I think in the long run the solution might be to change pedals to something like Look Keo ones (this will allow me to vary the position and lateral angle of my foot in a way you can’t do with SPDs) and get stiffer shoes but I’m not sure I can afford them right now – I also don’t know how long it might take me to get used to them and if that’s a good idea at this late stage.

It did feel odd riding home, as although the changes were all made incrementally, it resulted in what feels like a very different setup. I do tend to push the bigger gears and have always found it ‘easier’ to do so by having my saddle set quite high – this does result in a lower cadence, which is something I have been trying to increase (the cadence I mean).

I wasn’t sure if I was initially ‘slower’ with the new setup, it was too hard to tell. I’m going to have to go out and so some solo laps of the park to get comfier with the changes – on balance so far it feel like I’m a little less powerful on the flat but climbing a little easier.

I would recommend the session if like me, you’re trying to address an issue that your own changes of setup don’t seem to fix. I think a good person in a bike shop would be able to do a fair amount if this for you anyway (over time) but this was a comprehensive and concentrated session that looked at every aspect of me on my bike.

Thanks again to Simon and Putney Cycles.