PHASE 1: The run
It started with my second ever Sydney Striders 10km race. Those things are so mazing, I can't believe I hven't been to every one this year. Just the most well-organised, busy but low-key, friendly, professional and bloody enjoyable races I have ever done.
Yesterday's run was at North Head next to Manly, starting at 7am and it was an absolutely perfect morning weatherwise, a bit crisp but warm enough to hang out in t-shirt and shorts before the start and feel comfy. Clear skies and no wind. Loads of folks around and I got to have a chat with heaps of people I know. The race itself was almost dead flat and a beautiful course through the bush. I didn't push as hard as I could have because I was conscious that the day before my legs had felt like blocks of marble, and jogging home from work after one beer I thought I would have a meltdown - when I was basically shuffling for 3km.
Nonetheless I still pushed for under 4 min kms and did want to smash my last 10km PB of 38:59. As always I had a good little pack around me which spurred me on to go harder and I did my darndest to stay ahead of my little group until the end. Came over the line at 38:10 which was an awesome improvement and I was stoked with the time. Although I know I could have easily run 1 second faster per km and got in for a 37.xx if I had pushed it. Ah well, the goal is there and it's good to know I have room for improvement. Looking forward to the next one now...
Unfortunately I had to rush off a few minutes after finishing, I would love to hang around next time and hang out with people. But I had a big day ahead, joged back to the car and drove home to get changed and grab my bike before meeting Marty and Brad at Crows Next for:
PHASE 2: The ride
Marty and Brad had formulated a plan over beers a few months ago to do a bike ride from Crows Nest to Blackheath in the Blue Mountains, then a few bers at the pub and get a lift home from Marty's wife Janelle. They invited me along so at 9am (an hour after finishing my run) we saddled up and started pedalling.
A brilliant 80km or so of riding to start. Pacific Highway, Epping Road, the beautiful flat, wide freeway shoulder along the M2 and then the incredible length of dedicated cycle path running along the length of the M7 motorway. That was an undiscovered part of Sydney and one I will definitely go back and check out again, it was almost completely unused and so fun!
We decided first rest stop would be at Glenbrook, the first village at the foot on the Blue Mountains. The first major climb(and what turned out to be the hardest on the ride) was coming into Glenbrook. What a killer. Especially as the sun came out from behind the clouds and started beating down full force just as we hit the bottom of the hill.
Marty took off like a scalded cat, I ground up swearing under my breath and dropping further and further back behind him and behind me laboured poor Brad with a big old mountain bike weighing twice as much as the other two bikes put together and with fat knobbly tyres with half the pressure of ours! Oh and did I mention he had given blood the day before... and been out for beers that night?
We gladly crested into town and cruised into the local park to fill out water bottles and eat our sandwiches. I was just thinking I wished I had time to drop in and see Sal and Tom when lo and behold they walked into the park with their little kids at just that moment and went straight past us! Such an awesome coincidence and so good to see them again!
PHASE 3 - The mountains
I know I know, thére's nothing here resembling real mountains, and the Blues are certainly no Alps or Pyranees, but they were mountainous enough for me! And this was where the real riding started, 80km and about 2.5 hours in and we had no idea how long we had to go or what the road conditions would be like. All I knew was that the atitude of Glenbrook is 163m and Blackheath is 1025m which meant a lot of climbing.
And so it went. For the next three hours we spent the whole time hugging the tiny (and sometimes non-existent) shoulder of the highway, dodging overhanging trees, potholes, speeding trucks and broken glass. Actually we didn't get one single puncture between the three of us which has to be some sort of minor miracle!
It was an undulating series of hills, but always steadily climbing and towns went by one after the other with still no sign of Blackheath (or even a kilometre marker). On we pushed and eventually came to the second worst hill of the day, the climb into Wentworth Falls.
By this point I was in a strange place where I was having a lové/hate relationship with the ride. Every time we hit a hill I was suffering badly and in the worst frame of mind, just wanting the whole thing over with and to stop right there. As soon as I hit the crest and some level ground my legs felt good, my body strong and I started spinning like crazy and feeling amazing, thinking "This is easy as anything, I could keep riding all day!" These mood swings became comical after a while as I became aware of them and expected them. Each hills was a little battle and each crest a minor triumph.
Seeing that "Welcome to Blackheath" sign was the happiest point of my day! As we rolled up to the sunny beer garden of the pub we were ecstatic. I could have kept going...
The stats? 127.5km for me (the other boys rode another 7 or 8km from their homes) in almost exactly 5 hours, with an average speed of just over 25km/hr.
PHASE 4 - Recovery
After the drive home, a big pasta dinner and a bottle of excellent Hunter Valley Chardonnay and a good sleep I felt sensational this morning! I was up at 4.30am and wired on 6 hours sleep, ready to go again and bouncing off the walls. I've been kicking around the house since then, but definitely keen for my 2 hour easy run later today. If only I had time for a swim too, I should have gone out early, ah well. Too much kitten playing time.
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