Manchester 100

Sunday 6th September was the date of the Manchester 100, which I rode with “Team 100k”, a team comprising the amazing nameless and linkless but most definitely resistible one, the incredible swollen one, me, Lost Sheep and Rafe. Rafe had traveled all the way from a place in the south of England. I forget where, he did say. Somewhere beginning with an S I believe.

I fastened a mini canon ixus to my handlebars to take photos using a Gorilla Pod. I wanted to use it for holding my iPhone, but I couldn’t get the iPhone securely fastened to the holder. The photos are as a result, a bit crap.

It was the first manchester to blackpool length ride since the manchester to blackpool ride in July and while I didn’t fear it, I wondered how I’d find it as I remember being close to tears on a number of occasions on my first 60miler. I was also concerned about the weather conditions as heavy rain was forecast for the day. I’m very new to riding a roadbike with potential for slipping about on the roads.

The day began very early for me. As in I’m not used to being awake at that time, it wasn’t actually that early. I had prepared all of my clothing and equipment the night before, to the point of my lovely lovely red Felt bike already being in the car. I set off at 6.55am thinking ha! I’m going to be sitting around in Wythenshawe park for ages at this rate.

I was wrong. The exit off the M56 was blocked with a massive tailback as bike filled cars made their way into the park, where one car at a time and paying a pound to park caused a bottleneck. I didn’t enjoy this bit, I was twitchy and worried the team were waiting for me.

They weren’t. They were also held up in the traffic.

We already had some wounded team members, XXX has a hip injury and Anna has a painful pelvis from an old injury. Joby added to the list having developed an allergy to the fancy meal he cooked on Saturday evening. Scallops! He looked like the stay puffed monster from ghost busters, but only in the face.

Eventually we met up and set off. I can’t really remember much about the initial stages apart from the others speeding off. They do like to race each other, so despite all being either sick or injured they still sped ahead. Joby in particular was very sprinty, I don’t think he likes getting overtaken. I live with it. Plenty of athletes with their chiseled calf muscles, bound in lycra, skinny and fast on their several thousand pounds worth of bike. All dashing past. And then the pensioners, mountain bikers, small children on tricycles, monkeys on unicycles and a skateboarder, they too drifted past. I jest of course, as if a skateboarder could overtake me on my uberbike.

I don’t remember much about the ride up until the first rest stop. I have to say that the whole of the ride was much nicer than the road to Blackpool. It seemed to take in more country roads. Lots of thatched cottages and farmland. I am partial to a bit of Cheshire as it is where I am from. Here is the lovely village of Great Budworth.

The first stop was at The Windmill near Tabley, or near the Cheshire Show offices at least. Here I ate a banana and used the conveniences. Nice que for the ladies of course. Joby got some drops for his myxomatosis eyes.

Off we went again, and I think at this point I got separated and didn’t stop at the second stop, while others did. After the first stop I started to pick up pace a little and felt better and more confident about riding the bike. This is the first big ride I’ve been on a proper bike. And it was great to try it out on the flat. All I have is hills around here, no long open flat roads for me. On the nice open flat roads I was able to get steady speeds of 17MPH. You’d think all the hills would make me a better hill climber, but that’s another area to improve. They weren’t so bad though. Easier I felt than Blackpool, but it’s hard to remember properly because I have a different and better bike that isn’t way too big for me.

At the point where the route split for either 100 miles or kilometers I felt as though I could manage the one hundred mile no problem at all. Thankfully I didn’t give it a go.

Second stop for water, fruit loaf and peanut butter and rest. Joby was already there and the others arrived a few minutes after. I don’t know how or when I passed them. At this point I put my gel cover on the saddle as I was suffering on the old sit bones.

During the next section I rode with nameless mystery man for a while, who was really fighting with his hip and fair play to him for carrying on. At one point after a particularly vicious hill he stopped and was doubled over in agony. I told myself not to be such a wuss with my very minor complaints. Despite the pain he rode on. He wasn’t even on painkillers either.

I believe it was on this section of the ride that there was a particularly nasty hill that became very steep at the top and went into a right hand turn. This was the only tricky bit for me, because of the need to deal with traffic and get across the road quickly when starting from an incline.

There was another chance to catch up with the team at the Kings Loch pub in Middlewich. Gary and I arrived there together. The others were all already there gorging themselves on horrible pub peanuts. A nice pub though, and next to a canal. Pleasant to watch the longboats sail by for a few moments before heading off again.

It wasn’t until the last 10 miles that I started to feel a bit rough. I was fine, but my feet had started to go numb as had my buttocks. I’ve not been riding for long enough to develop a toughened leather-like undercarriage. And this was all ok until I hit the bottom of the hill in Styal. I began to shake and feel dizzy. I should have stopped and eaten something about 8 miles back, but didn’t. At this point Anna flew past and so did some bloke with Chris. Chris was doing the 100 miler, a nice guy I follow on twitter via some bloke (I’ve removed his name posthumously as I was accused of having as affair with him, in a ludicrous and insane way).

I sat down, stood up, stretched, drank some sugary ribena and set off after a good ten minutes. The last few hills at Styal were a challenge but after that it was a breeze. The team were waiting for me about five minutes from the finish line, so we were able to finish together and with a new team member, Chris the 100 miler.

Completing was less of a big deal than Manchester to Blackpool. It’s odd as that was only three months ago and the same distance, but I guess I’m not proving anything this time. But the thing is I am. That ride was really quite hellish, but this time I feel as though I could do it again tomorrow. In fact I would if I could. I actually loved it. It was painful at the end, but only briefly. It shows how far you can improve in just three months.

It took me about eight hours to get to Blackpool and this ride too about 4 hours and 40 or 50 minutes. I can’t say accurately as I left it running at the end. My average speed was 12.4 miles per hour and according to the computer I reached a speed of 71. 71 whats I don’t know as it certainly wasn’t 71 mph. A few times I saw 25 to 27 mph on the downhill sections.

It really was an enjoyable day and great to ride with fellow bikers. They are all characters, each one amusing, entertaining and ultimately really pleasant people. Also patient and encouraging. Thanks for the ride guys . You free next weekend?

The last point I wanted to make was about the sad passing last week of a person who initially inspired me to start getting off my arse and doing some exercise. I never met Jeffrey, but I followed his blog when I learned about his fight with cancer. Throughout his illness, Jeffrey determined to exercise each day. He always wore a pressed shirt and refused to dress in traditional hospital garb. Every day he walked or jogged two miles, despite what I’m sure was a extreme pain and fatigue (I don’t know because he never mentioned it). From his writing you definitely get a sense of Jeffrey’s positive outlook on and passionate approach to life. His blog is at Radio Walker .