Namibian Viking

It is not normal for me to feel scared, but even writing about this makes my heart race!

This evening I had dinner with Martin S. at Strada on New Burlington Street (they have a new great menu by the way!) and at about 22.30 we were heading home. I had cycled in this morning (a story in itself with two (!) puntures within 10 minutes of cycling…), so I went back to Cantos to change and get on my bike. The rain was coming down hard and it was one of these debates in my head if I should go back home by tube or stick with the plan and cycle.

I felt good when I sat up on the bike. Every now and again you feel that you are alive and with the rain hitting my face I had one of these truly enjoyable moments. It was all to change very soon.

As I rode by Big Ben and the Parliament I started to feel the wind pick up. It was one of these odd moments when you almost feel as if you are out of breath, just because the wind is blowing into your mouth so hard. The rain came down harder and I had to keep my eyes almost shut to not get whipped by the rain.

Then it all happened, outside Tate the wind took my bike and moved it sideways two metres! Nothing I could do and I just struggled to stay on the bike. My heart raced and I was very lucky there was no car passing me at that time! I clipped out both feet and from that point onwards cycled bent over the handlebars to make as a small target for the wind as possible. My heart was still racing and I was questioning what I was doing…

A moment earlier I had smiled at my own madness, cycling through the rain. I was soaked, I could feel the water gathering up inside of my shoes but I felt alive, and it felt good. All these positive feelings were gone as the wind moved my bike. I was even considering getting off the bike and walk.

I think the cycle god is trying to tell me something, look at this:

- Friday morning – Very, very closed to being hit by a car.

- Friday evening – Got a £30 ticket for jumping a (very large) red light.

- Saturday afternoon – Got lost on my way back from Dorking.

- Tuesday morning – Two punctures within the first 10minutes of cycling.

- Tuesday evening – Nearly being blown into oncoming traffic on the Strand.

What do you say? Is there a lesson to be learnt?

I think there is, and I am definitly running in tomorrow morning!

This morning I had plans to ride to Ben and go running with him. I got on my bike at 12:45 and started the long ride to Dorking (34km, my iPhone told me). After yesterday’s £30 fine for jumping a red light I tried to hold back. Many stops later checking for signal and confirming the route I pulled in to their new house. What a great spot, at the end of the garden was woodland and they were sourrounded by hills. We did a 11km route along a green valley, over fields and through some light forest. Absolutely stunning landscape and we passed many groups of people walking, no other runners though, what kind of lazy people live in Dorking

So far everything had gone to plan. We were back at Ben’s house and it was 17.00. After playing a short (far too short) while with Bean (Nicky and Ben’s son) I was back on the bike. My decision to try out the “train low – race high” energy strategy now started to impact me. In theory if you train on low energy levels you teach your body to cope with what it has got.

So far that day I had eaten two sandwiches and had 3 energy gels and I had done about 3h30min solid training. The route back started with the massive zig zack route up Box hill and I was cursing my decision not to eat more! Once on the top it was downhill most of the way into Morden.

This is where it all went wrong. I was 20min away from home, however after the one-way system and some roadwork I was caught in a web of residential streets. No matter where I turned I couldn’t get to a main road! To tired to stop and get my iPhone out and get a new route back to the house I ended up in Putney!

Good thing – I knew where I were and how to get home
Bad thing – I was in Putney and was depleted of all energy

I got back home at 19:30 and the six hour training session was finally over. Paul had arranged a party though, so 45minutes later I was out the door. Needless to say I was not going to go for a heavy night out. At 23 I said my goodbyes and I hit the pillow fast asleep!