Vaujany

The Race

Early in the evening before the race I’d driven around the departure area to become familiar with it, eventually locating the local parking area which would obviously be jam packed the following morning. For the moment it only had one occupant – a small car with a bike in it. Saying hello to the occupant it was clear that he was glad to find someone to talk to for a moment and he proceeded to explain to me the entire course route with its difficulties, dangers and the mistakes to avoid. The start was a 20km descent followed by a 15km steep climb up to the station of Alpe du Grand Serre. Basically the start would be really dangerous and there would be crashes to avoid and then it was important to avoid going too hard on the first climb – though practically everyone would! His advice was accurate – along with a stack of detail that he provided regarding dangerous corners on the descents. He was planning to set up a tent there overnight and to stash it away in the morning – camping wild being illegal in France. His logic was good because he would be on location for the start – but I preferred the comfort and security of the campsite and village.

Starting off in the race I remember saying to myself to take it easy because it was going to be a really hard day. Next thing my heart rate was almost maxing out in the battle to stay with the peloton. So much for good intentions. Everything said the evening before fell into place and every avoidable error was made almost joyfully.  After a while I found myself in a group dropped by the main leading peloton which disappeared  ahead with the security vehicles. The pace in this group was still good, but eventually the group fractured and we were forced to fight to re-form. It was a real battle to avoid getting dumped even more. People were jockeying for position left, right and centre and surprisingly we caught up with the front peloton again 15km later after averaging 60kph over a few kilometres. The sight of being in the main peloton again with the security escort 20km after the start was impressive and beautiful. While remarking on this and enjoying the view as well as taking a well-earned breather being sucked along in the peloton there was a cry of alarm ahead and the bikes separated like a wave exposing a victim still rolling on the ground and another bike at the side of the road with the bushes shaking where the rider had vanished into them. I’d anticipated this because the peloton had suddenly narrowed slightly to accommodate oncoming traffic on the wide main road – but it was a big peloton with too many people crossing over onto the oncoming traffic lane. Trouble and falls were inevitable.

My main concerns however were more personal – namely, that my legs might not have recovered from the major 230km workout and subsequent 5 days recovery prior to this race. Energy levels had been seriously low only a few days earlier. Plan B was to bail out after the first loop (there were two sections) and complete only the short course if there was a problem. Straight away I knew there was no problem – the legs were 100% and only fitness would limit performance. This was a serious result already!

The first climb of the day up the Alpe du Grand Serre was fast and after 10 km of climbing the average speed so far was an amazing 31kph (Endomondo audio feedback!) – which considering the severity of this climb was a crazy figure despite the gradual descent at the start of the race. Warnings had been given about not doing this, but they were not heeded by many. Part of the fun of racing is racing! If you get dumped at the start you can’t really race at all because you are on your own plodding the whole way. I’d decided to race through the first 110km loop and then kick back a bit on the additional loop which was added for the long course. I wanted to get my heart rate up and battle hard through the main section to get the maximum training effect from it. The climb was made noticeably easier because of losing 5kg in weight over the past few months. One of this day’s objectives was to lose another kilo. (It worked – weighed in at 69.0kg this morning) To be a properly good climber I’d need to lose another 9kg but this would also create a really “haggard” look so it might not be a great idea. The young neighbour in the campsite weighed only 60kg and was very good in comparison. He finished in 6:30hrs but this was slow for him because his legs were already very tired from having climbed a couple of big cols the day before the race. He was still about 90 minutes ahead of me!

Arriving back at Allemont at the end of this first loop the bifurcation between short and long course came up to greet us. The little voice inside the head was saying “Take the short one – your legs are already cooked completely”, but some higher conscience (or stupidity – take your pick) insisted on continuing on the long course – starting with a formidable climb directly to Alpe d’Huez ski station. Much of the time up until now my heart rate as indicated on the Garmin had been well in the red – so there was no way that this sort of effort level could be sustained and there was no mistaking the discomfort, leg and body pains that goes along with this. It was time to lift the foot off the gas pedal and find a sustainable rhythm that might let the pain in the legs recover a bit. Pain isn’t the most worrying thing. The real worry is that perhaps you will run out of strength completely or that the legs might cramp up and stop working involuntarily. The long back-road climb up to Alpe d’Huez was a continual slog but during this period it became clear that the legs could cope. I’d been focussing on using core muscles actively the whole day – but found that this was hard to do – indicating that overall energy levels were perhaps not at their very best. Each time the gradient seemed to be too steep I could either get up off the saddle to stretch the legs or stay seated but dig deep into the core muscles – both work. Temperatures were now climbing faster than we were but one advantage of approaching Alpe d’Huez was that the air was getting cooler at altitude. The Macot-La Plagne shirt I was wearing has a full length zip and that was excellent because it opened all the way down and having the shirt fully open makes a really big difference to cooling. I’d only buy a shirt now with a full length zip.

Climbing from Alpe d’Huez to the Col de Sarenne at 2000m altitude was rough. The road was terrible – a real mess and dangerous. The final stretch up to the col was steep and straight and this is where people started to openly crack for the first time today. While I was slowly recovering from earlier exertions through keeping a moderate pace others were now cracking completely and stopping. Nobody was actually walking yet though. Descending from this col was a real nightmare. Not only were there deep trenches crossing the road for water run off but there was fresh gravel everywhere. This was a road made for mountain bikes not road bikes with skinny tyres at 120psi. You could tell if riders knew what they were doing because if they did then they didn’t slow down for the obstacles but kept speed to ensure getting through. Momentum really helps – despite being scary. Arriving eventually at properly smooth tarmac it was a great relief to very tired arms, neck, upper back and blistered hands, but it was still very steep with sharp hairpin bends so there was hard breaking all the way down to the dam, eventually rejoining the main road there. A couple of guys passed me but I let them go to permit more recovery from the last climb and the legs didn’t want to cooperate too much anyway. After a lot of descending we returned to the valley floor and once again ended up on the amazingly long straights directly into the wind. The guys who passed during the descent – or rather during small climbs between parts of the descent – were now specks in the distance so it was now just me against the wind and the prospect of a long hard and tiring slog – but then someone appeared at my side. Slipstreaming for a while brought great relief and gave the legs and body some time to adapt to working again at a faster pace. When my human wind-shield pulled out to let me take over I was both physically and mentally recovered and ready for it. Perhaps I’d pulled in front for about 5 minutes when we reached a major roundabout with several exits but no signs for the race. I continued around but the guy in my slipstream went straight on – and while I was faffing around trying to figure things out the next guy appeared and also went straight on. Breaking all the rules of the highway code I then rode around the roundabout the wrong way up against oncoming traffic to get back on track – already 500m behind the other two who had joined up together. This was a critical moment because there was still a long way to go against the wind so I dug deep with the core muscles and went after them – aided by a shallow incline slowing them down a bit. Heart rate was quickly back up to 167bpm and within a couple of minutes they were caught so I could rest behind them for a while and recover. Energy spent catching them would easily be compensated for on the long flats ahead. We averaged around 35kph along the flats this time – a bit slower than the previous time through this section (shared by the two different loops) but not bad because the wind was higher and we were much more tired and less numerous. Along the way a few other riders were collected, arriving at Allemont again in a small peloton ready to attack the final climb together. It was a bit like playing cat and mouse with people for most of the second stage of the course. Everyone by this stage of the game finds themselves close to other people of a very similar performance level – so you keep on passing and then being passed by the same people. I was well organised with drinking and eating, only having to fill one bottle at each second drinks station and drop a couple of isotonic tablets into the water, taking seconds altogether at each stop (The isotonic “Isostar” tablets were wrapped in tin foil in my pocket – to protect them from sweat but to make access very quick). Some people would pass me climbing and grind on ahead then seem to stop for ages at the refreshments so I’d pass them again – and this would happen over and over. The guy who dumped me at the roundabout earlier was a clear case of this. When we got to the final climb up to Vaugany he just left me behind – but later on he stopped for drinks and this time when I passed him he never caught me again because I was able to dig in and accelerate a bit towards the end – plus there was enough water in my bottle to see me through the final kilometre. I’d consumed small gels from tubes during the race and put the empty tubes in the pocket holding a spare air tube and high pressure CO2 kit. The tubes had continued to leak with sugary gel and everything was glued together by the end of the race – but at least I hadn’t littered the road with rubbish!

The final climb was fearsome – averaging 10% over 5km and as hot as a furnace. People were dropping like flies on this climb. The further up the mountain you got the more people there were walking or just hanging over stationary bike frames at the side of the road. I’d been worried earlier on that this might be my fate too but on the contrary there was plenty in reserve and once again I could dig deep into the core muscles or get up off the saddle to stretch and breathe. There was never any danger of stopping. Right at the bottom of the climb an older rider (at least mid 60s) came along side and talked out loud about how tough this was going to be. He had a pot belly and was small, thickset and with a little moustache. Not only was it surprising to see him at all, but then he just cheerfully said “bon courage” and vanished up the hill in front of me! Disturbing! I can understand a slender 30 year old doing that but this was a real surprise. I later heard that Jenny Longo at age 52 came second in the French national road championship again – she will be in the Olympics again for sure. Cycling turns the rules upside down. Towards the top I started reeling in some of the guys who had passed me earlier on so that was a good sign. On the other hand there were some guys really flying up the hill. Where they came from I’ve no idea but they must have been saving their energy for the end. I was happy to have raced properly hard early on and then stretch myself beyond perceived limits regardless of getting a less than optimum result as a consequence. It was certainly better overall training this way. Getting off the bike at the end didn’t feel as horrible as it used to even on the short races – the legs were fine and there was no breathlessness. There were perhaps about 20 minutes of feeling generally hammered but nothing specific. I used this time to get food and sit down on a bench to eat it. The food was inedible rubbish and the bench had no back to it so it was unpleasant. In compensation though everyone at the table was very friendly and communicative and it was only then that the real international level of participation came clear. Sitting opposite was a New Zealander, next to me were Germans and then English and French.