August superstats!

GT ODOMETER AT START OF AUGUST 2007: 10000
GT ODOMETER AT END OF AUGUST 2007: 10141

TOTAL GT MILES AUGUST 2007: 141

TREK ODOMETER AT START OF AUGUST 2007: 13057
TREK ODOMETER AT END OF AUGUST 2007: 13662

TOTAL TREK MILES AUGUST 2007: 605

TOTAL NON-TIME TRIAL MILES AUGUST 2007: 531

TOTAL SOLO TIME TRIAL MILES (TREK) AUGUST 2007: 215
(in 8 hours 52 minutes 56 seconds, averaging 24.205mph)

TOTAL MILES AUGUST 2007: 746
(24.06 miles per day)

TOTAL MILES CYCLED IN 2007: 5913.2
(24.43 miles per day)

TOTAL MILES CYCLED SINCE 25 MAY 2003: 23803
(15.26 miles per day)

* therefore, nearly a third of all miles completed this month were done at race pace.

...a3crg 50m TT

Bike: Trek
Distance: 50 miles
Time: 1 hour 59 minutes 53 seconds
Average speed: 25.024mph

37th out of 102.

25 mile time: 59:19 (25.288mph)

:D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Unbelievable! (I was aiming for a 2:05). Moreover, I won £15 for 'third best improvement' (10 minutes 1 second).



Can't believe I've gone under the hour and, erm, gone under the two hours in the space of one weekend. I've achieved much much more than I was aiming for this season, and am going to start easing down as the autumn approaches. I reckon a couple more time trials, the Willesden road race and some hillclimbs.



But first: some pasta, a wash (my legs are grubby with dead squirrel) and a much-needed nap.

North Hants RC Open 25

Bike: Trek
Distance: 25 miles
Time: 57 minutes 27 seconds
Average speed: 26.109mph

:D :D :D :D :D

An absolutely perfect day, from the beautifully quiet and mist-shrouded London roads first thing this morning, to the fact I not only beat the hour for the first time, but beat it and then some! I knew I was going well when, after 10 miles, my time was under 23 minutes (thus making that my third fastest 10 time...), at halfway I was on 28:30, after 15 miles I was under 35 minutes and then I stopped watching the clock and put the hammer down. 57:27!!!

I headed out so hard that my gums bled, then felt a bit dehydrated, but overall was riding with more focus than I've managed at this distance before, and was also riding with a lot of joy. Sun was out, no wind, perfect.

Afterwards, bumped into Justyn C. of the RAF CC, who had won Tuesday's event - he'd done another PB (a 55?) and was, sportingly, very impressed with my time too. Then in the HQ, Derek (of the Willesden) came over to shake my hand and he also got me a coffee. Good support :D

Anyway, I can't properly sum it up, so I'll suggest the happiness I'm currently feeling is comparable to happiness I imagine Sally is feeling here:

Bicester Millenium CC Open 10

Bike: Trek
Distance: 10 miles
Time: 24 minutes 52 seconds (I think?)
Average speed: 24.128mph

Ahh, Bicester. What a waste of time: turns out my bike was damaged in Sunday's crash (the rear dropout hanger is bent and needs replacing before Saturday), which left me with three gears to play with tonight. Add a big helping of headwind and a complete lack of motivation, and I did poorly. Glad I kept it under 25 minutes though. Thanks to Justyn Cannon (RAF CC) who fiddled with my bike beforehand (he did an excellent ride to win the 'hardcore trophy' - a short 22 I think). I pointed out I'd seen him racing before and that he'd done a good time last Saturday, he said 'Ah, yes, you're the guy who has cake and tea *before* racing'. It's good to be infamous for something, I suppose. It doesn't beat the conversation I had with the lady who was selling photographs at Saturday's race though:

Me: 'Hmm, hmm, I don't know if I should buy a photo.'
Her: 'Oh, come on, how many times do you get pictures of yourself in action?'
Me: 'Pretty much every weekend actually'
Her: 'And what about on the bike?'
Me: ":|"

Still, in this game, you take humour when you can grab it: as Justyn (who revealed that he gave up smoking and drinking to take up time trialling this year) pointed out: 'It means I no longer have a social life.' I had to nod sagely in agreement.

Ealing - Dunstable - Ealing

Bike: Trek
Distance: 85.00 miles
Time: 4 hour 50 minutes 01 seconds
Average speed: 17.5 mph
Maximum speed: 37.5 mph
Odometer (at end): 13481 miles

Route (zoom out a bit). See also: satellite map and elevation.

Once again I am a sore aching mess. But we'll come to that later: much of this ride was uplifting (and uphill) even though the weather was decidely autumnal.

I got up too late to join the Willesden club run to Henley, so figured I'd do a long, hard ride in the Chilterns. I am moving away from this part of the world fairly soon, and the countryside to the west of London holds many, many pleasant memories. I figured I'd head up to Berkhamsted, then do a loop incorporating Bison Hill and Ivinghoe Beacon and passing both sides of the Ashridge Estate. It is nine weeks since the Chiltern 100 (which included these very hills), it feels like an age ago. In any case, today's ride was more akin to the recce I did the day before the Chiltern 100 - a life-affirming solo effort, trying out my hill legs and marvelling at the scenery. Sadly, today lacked the blazing sunshine of that weekend - it was grey, windy and drizzly. But, in a way, this was a different kind of epic.

I figured some company might be nice, so texted Stuart and Richard: both were otherwise occupied (the former, apparently, at Church getting drunk). So I took the opportunity to go out and clear my head. This is a period of great transition and uncertainty and one way to deal with this is to obtain single-minded focus on the sharply rising piece of tarmac ahead of you.

Given my recent and upcoming schedule, I didn't push myself beyond the effort required to get up the many, many hills (the Chilterns really are wonderful cycling country: you're either crawling upwards, or descending at pace). I hadn't eaten enough and wasn't feeling great, but - importantly - I was happy. It's been a while since I went out on a ride just to eat up the miles (and, with it, my problems), and I was travelling slowly enough to contemplate my surroundings (which were, once I got out of London, very pleasant).

I reached Uxbridge without incident, but there I was hooted - it was Richard in his new car! On cue, I simultaneously punctured. Once that was sorted, I headed through Denham and up the Amersham Road. Soon the undulations and drizzle began. The latter was actually quite pleasant, and never too hard.

It was up and down all the way to Berkhamsted - and then more up. Cycled past the castle and through the Ashridge estate. All terribly nostalgic. I flew up Pedley Hill, knowing Bison Hill was on the way and that I hadn't really got my hill legs on yet. By this point, the fact I hadn't eaten properly was starting to cause me to feel a bit whoozy, but I knew I had enough left, just not enough to really go for it. Some lovely fast twisty downhill bits, and then - a glider overhead - the looming bulk of Bison Hill. I knew what to expect, and got up with few problems. It really is a brilliant hill to grind up, one which looks much harder than it actually is. Looped round, along the rather fantastic (and fast) Dunstable Downs road (lots of kites out today).

Next up was the Ivinghoe Beacon - here was the real moment of the trip. It's a good climb, long and steady, but as I rounded the 'kink with the view' (seen here in June), I got that great feeling when you notice absolute silence. Wonderful and much needed.

Still, I was feeling 'off', so decided rather than heading towards Tring and exploring a bit more, I'd head back to Berkhamsted and then home. Spotted a signpost for the Ashridge monument tearoom and decided I'd earned some coffee and cake and further contemplation.

All weekend I've been cycling with my grandma in mind (she loved her bike - apparently she used to cycle up and down Bishops Hill in Ipswich everyday when she was younger). Friday was three years since she died, and I still miss her, her influence and encouragement. Regardless of how I feel about myself, she'd have been very proud of what I've achieved, both at uni and on my bike (one of the last times I saw her, she was boasting to one of her friends that I had 'cycled for Cambridge'...regardless that I'd cycled pretty badly!) Yesterday, Derek (of the Willesden) gave me some newspaper cuttings which featured glowing reports of some of my races. My grandma would have been overjoyed with these: when she died, she left suitcases full of photographs and clippings involving all of her children and grandchildren. I guess I inherited that nostalgic, hoarding instinct. Maybe it's wrong to miss elderly people when they die, but I still wish I could go over to Felixstowe for a cup of tea and to yell what I'd been up to (she was pretty deaf - I blame my excessively loud voice on the time I stayed at her flat for a few months).

And on this note, everyone looked really gloomy at Ashridge - perhaps they should've been cycling. The cake wasn't as bad as all that, but didn't make much of an impact on my growing hunger. It was time to go home. The ride back (once I got to Berkhamsted, it was the same roads as I'd headed up on) was brisk: I pelted down the hills between Chesham and Amersham, and then attacked the Amersham Road back towards Denham. A few angry motorists from the Denham 'roundabout of death' onwards, but nothing out of the ordinary til I got to here (the intersection of the A4020 with Yeading Lane). I had to brake for a red light, and suddenly I was on my arse. The road was coated with some kind of soapy substance, which had presumably reacted with the rain. In any case, really, really dangerous for cyclists!

I gingerly cycled the last 5 miles back home, and inspected my wounds. No serious cuts or grazes, though I have a large welt on my hip, which bore the brunt of the impact (my bike, thankfully, emerged unscathed). Apart from that, though, quite pleased with the ride. It did what I wanted and needed it to, made a fitting farewell to the Chilterns and means I'll sleep well tonight. I just hope the soreness wears off soon. Like my other falls this year, it could've been worse.

Kingston Wheelers Open 10

Bike: Trek
Distance: 10 miles
Time: 22 minutes 49 seconds
Average speed: 26.296mph

Result: 32nd out of 85.

Back on the A31 again ... only 8 seconds slower than I was 2 weeks ago, and it was pretty wet and windy out today. Very pleased with this effort, as it proves that going under 23 minutes was no fluke. Still, it would have only taken 0.9 seconds extra effort per mile to have done a 22:40 and acquired a new PB. Hohum.

further madness

An impressive number of my clubmates are doing the legendary but insane PBP next week. Good luck!

West London Cycling Association Centenary 100 mile time trial

Bike: Trek
Distance: 100 miles
Time: 4 hours 20 minutes 29 seconds
Average speed: 23.034mph

Result: 13th out of 43

From an initial position of mild, albeit briefly interrupted, obsession, 2007 has involved a definite leap upwards in my love of cycling and the suffering it entails (both for me and the people who have to listen to me talk about it). For a start, I've never continued my racing season beyond, erm, early May before.

The year has included some serious challenges. In January, a century ride into a strong headwind (from Shotley to London) induced red, puffy eyes (amongst a litany of curses and other red, puffy bits). February’s Ely Hardriders was a super tough re-introduction to the world of timetrialling, and left me unable to walk properly or sit down for a few days afterwards. As the season began proper, numerous turbo training sessions up at Wembley caused me to build up dangerously large amounts of lactic acid and release dangerously large quantities of sweat. As spring arrived and turned into summer, I continued to accumulate training miles, time trials and the occasional epic cyclosportive. July's White Rose Classic stands out as particularly evil - over a hundred miles, incorporating some bugger-off climbs, stomach-turning descents, several hundred lycra-clad Yorkshiremen, and all on a blazing hot day in the Dales. Along with the physical difficulties, I've also had to deal with psychological problems caused by not being able to fathom 'bad' days in the saddle, and the occasional fall, induced by wet roads and snapping handlebars. Such, such are the joys of the incompetent amateur cyclist!

All of this, however, pales into comparison when placed next to what I did on Sunday morning. I have cycled 100+ miles on numerous occasions, often at a fair lick, but never have I knuckled down to a century of all-out time trial effort. Ten times the distance and ten times the drama of a puny 10, I shall now attempt to recollect my fractured thoughts from the weekend.

A bit of history: the West London Cycling Association is celebrating its centenary year, so it resurrected the WLCA 100 time trial as a one-off, together with an enormous prize pot (which I, impressively, managed to avoid scooping any of: my ‘career earnings’ to date are £10, whereas the amount I've spent on bike bits, travel etc. does not bear thinking about - I won't be giving up the, erm, day job anytime soon).



To really pile on the agony, the race was scheduled to begin bright and early in the morning. Far too bright and early for the train drivers, so I booked myself into the glamorous Alton Four Marks Travelodge, about eight miles from race HQ. Caught a train down to Alton late on Saturday evening, cycled out to Four Marks and then realised that I was both hungry and in the middle of nowhere. Clearly, going to bed, waking up and racing an epic distance on an empty stomach was not a recommended strategy, so I left my bike in my room and headed back up the hill into Four Marks where I’d spied a large roadside pub. Naturally this turned out to be the sort of dubious establishment where it didn’t take a considerable stretch of the imagination to envisage glassings, knife fights and worse. I imagined the red wallpaper was simply a convenient choice to mask the inevitable bloodstains. It then dawned on me that not only was I an out-of-towner but I was also wearing shorts - thereby revealing my badly shaved legs. Quickly fleeing into the restaurant section, I ordered a large steak (bleeding), consumed it at great pace, and departed. All in all, I think I spent less than half an hour in the place. What really riled me was I then spotted a really nice Indian restaurant on the other side of the road, which had previously eluded my gaze. Still, the experience presumably had some kind of toughening effect on my psyche. Sadly, I walked back to the hotel too quickly and got a stitch. Also, catching sight of myself in the mirror I noticed the flesh around my left eye had swollen alarmingly. An insect bite! (a similar affliction had caused me to gain ‘special consideration in my A-level exams, but no way was it going to stop me racing – I sat with some cold, damp tissue rammed in my eye socket for the remainder of the evening). In spite of these maladies, I continued to consume yet more food and unwisely watched ‘Austin Powers’ and ‘Jaws 3’ through my good eye (it’s non-stop decadence out on the road) and, of course, tried to snatch some sleep, feeling a tad nervous.

Woke up just after five, made my complimentary Nescafe, scoffed at its foul taste but enjoyed the caffeine kick. Realised I hadn’t packed any toothpaste, so resigned myself to a 100 miles of halitosis, but figured that wouldn’t be the most of my worries. Headed out into a bastard chilly morning and arrived at Bentley with about an hour to go before my start.

The HQ had a nice but nervous atmosphere – they’d put up some startsheets and results from bygone WLCA events, some of which had amazingly impressive times given the machines the riders would have been using. Suitably chastened, I skinsuited up, concealed various energy bars around my person, filled my bottles with sugary gloop, and headed out for the start.

I was off at 07:37, and wanted to be done before midday. In fact, after previous discussion with Tim, one of my cycling mentors, accomplished tester and frequent reader of this blog, we’d decided a 4:20 would be a respectable time to aim for. Pacing was crucial, and he recommended a 1:02, 1:04, 1:06, 1:08 strategy. With steely determination (and a bit of blind panic) these four numbers remained my mantra throughout the ordeal. (Tim did a 24 hour time trial last year – reading about it makes a 100 seem rather puny...)



The course basically involved going up and down a roughly 10 mile stretch of dual carriageway. Carefully watching my computer, I reached 25 miles at just a notch over 1:02. The fifty was reached at just over 2:06, which is quicker than my ‘official’ 50 PB of 2:09. So far, so well paced. Conditions were quite nice: sunny, a bit of wind: the toughest leg was the ‘return’ towards the Chawton roundabout – although broken up by a decent downhill in the middle, it was a bit of a slog and required a lot of concentration. After 50 miles, I was in unknown time trial territory, and starting to flag. I was having difficulty (being a cack-handed wretch) getting my food from underneath my lycra into my mouth and, to be honest, it wasn’t an appetising prospect by this point. I think I managed a Powerbar and a Nutrigrain, which was probably too little eating. I eked out my two water bottles perfectly, though I could have done with more fluid (at this distance, you are allowed ‘support’ – i.e. friends or family passing you fresh bottles. However, given that I, for some reason, don’t possess any friends or family willing to waste their Sunday mornings loitering round the edges of dual carriageways, I have learned the noble art of self-sufficiency. In retrospect, Gladys and Ron of the Willesden were marshalling one of the roundabouts, so I could have left a bottle with them, but it later transpired that the guy who finished just behind me had had a water bottle related mishap, so perhaps autarky is the way forward).



Distance has always been my ‘thing’ with cycling – I’m not a sporty, athletic type so I knew ‘speed’ was never going to be my forte. However, I am quite tenacious and if I say I’m going to cycle somewhere, I will cycle there regardless of distance. However, usually on my long rides, I can take the opportunity to amble along, think pleasant thoughts, eliminate stress, take in the scenery and marvel at the efficiency and general greatness of the bicycle. Not the case on this ride. For the entire distance, my mind barely wandered and the pain never abated. I concentrated absolutely on keeping my legs turning at just the level that hurt a certain amount, but not to the extent that I’d have to give up. I had to sit up a few times, but for much of the time I was uncomfortably crouched over the bars. I don’t quite know what happened in the 50-75 mile section – I didn’t stop concentrating, but the leg into the increasing headwind was really tough. I wasn’t cycling with as much rhythm as before and it became a struggle to maintain any kind of pace. I figured I’d overdone it on the ‘fast’ leg just before it, and just cooled off a bit. Thus, this third quarter was completed in 1:08. I’d have to do a 1:06 to finish at my desired target.

With 20 miles to go, the ability to cycle properly returned. I honestly don’t know: some days you have good days, some days you have bad days on the bike, and even on the good days you’ll have bad moments. I was on the ‘quick’ leg, so motored back down to the Farnham roundabout, turned, into the wind, but the difficulties that had bugged me on the previous circuit no longer applied and I kept a decent pace. With 10 miles to go, I had 27 minutes. I visualised it as an isolated 10 mile TT, albeit one that had required an incredibly tough 90 miles warm up. Then three things happened: (1) I began to feel queasy. The high glucose content of my drink probably didn’t help, but I have never pushed myself to the point of vomiting before. Perhaps if I’d eaten more, I would have added a unique new design to my skinsuit. (2) A brief rain shower after 95 miles – I couldn’t see a bloody thing, but it reinvigorated me. I pushed up to the final roundabout, turned and (3) Cycled at leg-damagingly high speed towards the finish.



After finishing, I shifted down a few gears and spun – I could feel how worn out and generally ruined the individual components of my legs were. My left knee felt like it was going to pop. I tentatively made it back to the HQ, which was filling up with riders, support crew, helpers and others, who had just come along to celebrate the 100 years. Mick and Marion Fountain had put on a huge lunch for everyone, and this generated a fantastic atmosphere. My time initially went up as 4:28:29, but this was because somebody had mistaken the 0 for an 8. Rectified, I felt pretty happy. The fastest time was 3:43, which was incredible. For a first ‘100’, 4:20:29 isn’t bad, averaging just over 23mph. Moreover, my best 25 time at the start of the year was just a smidge under 1:05 – and I’d just ridden four of them without stopping!

Missed out on a prize by 3 places, finishing 13th, but didn’t really mind. Got a free T-shirt, some notelets and some energy drink (supplied in powder form – it tasted like the stuff they give you to clean out your bowels before a colonoscopy, luckily it has not yet had this effect), consumed three platefuls of food, three cups of coffee and a glass of red wine (which had quite a kick after the morning’s exertions). Finally left the HQ, caught a train from Bentley back to Waterloo, didn’t much fancy the ride back to Ealing, so pedalled cautiously to Paddington, caught a train and before long was collapsed in an armchair unable to move or talk coherently for several hours.

So, undoubtedly the toughest thing I’ve ever done on a bike. Many thanks to the small army of marshals, particularly Gladys and Ron who I think were shouting encouragement at me. To be honest, they could have been shouting anything: I’d like to say I didn’t hear because of my Nietzschean willpower, but in all honesty my head was fried from doing all manner of crazy mental arithmetic calculations and delighting in the fact they’d plonked this dual carriageway through the heart of Jane Austen country. Sense and sensibility this was not.

Westerley CC Circuit 10

Bike: Trek
Distance: 10.23 miles
Time: 24 minutes 45 seconds
Average speed: 24.8mph

Wanted to go quicker than 25 minutes for 11 laps of Hillingdon, and achieved it tonight, on the last Westerley 10 of 2007.

Not feeling 100% - dodgy stomach and very sore mouth, but I do seem to be cycling pretty well at the moment. I seem to be able to push myself harder, which I put down to the large amount of rest I'm giving myself - I'm not cycle commuting as much as earlier in the year (and cycle commuting has lost a lot of its appeal now that summer, smog and stupid (other) cyclists are here). My training now essentially consists of the occasional long steady ride mixed with all these events. I was told once the only way to get quicker at time trials is to ride more time trials, and this year is proving that!

Tonight the wind was helpful down the back straight, and a bit challenging on the hill up to the start/finish line - think my time was pretty good though I faded a bit in the third quarter, only to put on a charge in the last couple of laps.

Oliver from the Dynamo also came along for his second TT, and posted a 29, which was pretty respectable given he'd done a similar time on a road-based course last Friday.

I was off number 3, and was the first to finish, so took some crappy phone pictures here.

mystery wight boy

Some more pictures, courtesy of Lidia and John, of before and after the Chiltern 100, and various Isle of Wight images: here and here and here, for example.

Southampton - Lymington

Bike: Trek
Distance: 19.60 miles
Time: 1 hour 06 minutes 17 seconds
Average speed: 17.6 mph
Maximum speed: 27.5 mph
Odometer (at end): 13154 miles

It started to get hot early, and at 9 in the morning I set off with Lidia's fiance John to get to the ferry at Lymington (Lidia following on train, with sandwiches etc. for a day on the Isle of Wight). The average speed of this journey doesn't really do it justice, simply because the first few miles out of Southampton were pretty slow. Once we got into the New Forest (my first time in this part of the world) we sped up, motoring past some other early morning cyclists. Brilliant stretches of road, occasionally punctuated with ponies, donkeys and cattle wandering freely about. Bizarre, but endearing. Got to Lymington well ahead of schedule and proceeded to drink much coffee and get all the bike talk out of our systems before Lidia arrived...



Did a bit of cycling to get to the beach once we'd taken the ferry across the Solent - I must return to the Isle of Wight with my bike one day, as the hills are stunning, cliff-edge affairs.

Bentley - Southampton

Bike: Trek
Distance: 42.08 miles
Time: 2 hour 30 minutes 42 seconds
Average speed: 16.7 mph
Maximum speed: 32.5 mph
Odometer (at end): 13135 miles

A bit of an epic this one, the pace was slowed owing to the fact the race had been hard, I was carrying a heavy bag and the road was pretty undulating.

Still, beautiful scenery and warm sunshine, so mustn't grumble.

Didn't get lost, and arrived at my old uni friend Lidia's house just after 7. Promptly ate enough chinese takeaway to make up the enormous calorie deficit I had managed to accumulate.

Charlotteville CC Open 10

Bike: Trek

Distance: 10. miles

Time: 22 minutes 41 seconds

Average speed: 26.451mph

A new PB out of the blue! An 'interesting' up-and-down course, luckily most of the down was during the last 3 miles...

What caused this dramatic improvement? My 'more aerodynamic' haircut? New shoes (SIDI Genius with carbon soles)? New pedals (Look Keo, carbon fibre)? A week of rest following the Dynamo? The Charlotteville chicken rolls? The first sunny (albeit windy) day in ages? The residual joy from Prince's show? A freshly tuned-up bike? Stress from the enormous queue for tickets at Waterloo (there was a rugby match on at Twickenham)?

I will never know - it didn't feel like a quick ride on the way out, with a lot of drag and headwind. By the turn I was hoping to keep it under 24 minutes, but then realised most of the way back would be downhill and wind-assisted. The last 3 miles, after a short, sharp hill, flew past at about 30-31mph. Good fun! Looked down at my computer which suggested I'd gone under 23 and was overjoyed.

Celebrated by eating 3 of the legendary Charlotteville CC cakes, played with a very friendly rescue dog in the car park, and headed off for Southampton.

Wilson vs. Prince: a right old racket

Tonight I am off to see Prince, thus fulfilling a long term ambition to see a small man fellate a microphone stand.

I am going with my erstwhile musical partner in crime, Iain.

Unfortunately, Iain can get a little bit carried away in the heat of the moment. So I expect tonight to be disrupted as follows:

Prince: *sings, flails*

Iain: 'Oi, Prince, you're missing the point. While you're singing about an all-night bondage session involving a pair of twins, a phallic guitar and black M&Ms (they melt in your mouth, not in your hand), thousands of innocent people have had to buy the Daily Mail to hear your sub-par new album.'

In any case, he seems pretty excited (Iain, not Prince). I received a text first thing this morning declaring this 'P-day', and then an email on the subject of what songs we want to hear:

'i don't believe i'm familiar with 'do me, baby'. i get the impression you are a fan of his dirty songs, while i prefer his more poetic love songs, like pussy control.'

draconian months

Fellow Dynamista Adrian Fitch has a comprehensive stats section on his cycling blog. Given that I used to keep records with similar, erm, enthuasiasm, Adrian's array of charts and graphs invoked a sharp twang of nostalgia. I therefore whipped out my old spreadsheet, and have spent a bit of time working out my monthly averages. See them here. It transpires that I've now cycled an average of 460 miles per month for 50 months.

star's Treks

A rather nice little tech feature on the cyclingnews.com website about Lance Armstrong's various Tour winning bikes. I couldn't afford this particular bike back in 2003 (and probably couldn't now), but I could get the Trek 1500 with the same paint scheme...

...and here's the video of why 2003 was such an inspirational cycling summer. Lance has two incident, but is really flying.