As Britain’s first ever international level stage race for women approaches, we caught up with professional cyclist Tanya Griffiths to see how she thought The Women’s Tour has affected British cycling, and who she’d put her money on to win the race…
Those that know me, will know that I have been unable to drive since about mid February 2013 when I had “The Incident” on my bike which, not only led to me not being able to drive, but also hilariously not-funny comments throughout the year from fellow cyclists and colleagues alike at the slightest whiff of it being even slightly cold.
To end all rumours now, I did not loose my licence through any kind of misdemeanour in my car!
So, this is how a bike ride ended up in me not being able to drive for 10 months…
It was February and most of you will remember that it was a really cold and really long winter. I took great pride in being an all-weather “proper” cyclist, venturing out in all weather, and have been on virtually every club run since I joined Ipswich BC, even when it snowed and there were just the three of us mad, but dedicated cyclists. So, it was February (again) and it was cold and it was time for the Saturday morning club ride. It looked like we would be lucky and it wouldn’t rain, but I packed my mac anyway, as you do in winter and wrapped up warm in my usual gear. There was a good group of us ready to head out to Hollow Tree’s and the promise of a log fire along with the obligatory coffee and cake.
Just before we left the meeting point, it started to cloud over and I took out my mac ready for a bit of a shower and we headed off. Less than a mile down the road and low-and-behold it starts to drizzle. And I realise that my mac is no longer waterproof.
It’s one of those light-weight cheap jackets that works well, and then, all-a-sudden and with no warning what-so-ever, it’s suddenly not waterproof anymore. Never mind, we’ve all ridden without waterproofs before!
I hadn’t, however, accounted for a sudden drop in temperature! When it stopped raining, the mercury dropped and now, not only was I wet, it was getting very very cold. When you cycle in the cold, it sometimes doesn’t matter how thick your gloves are, once you are cold, you cannot warm up. After only 10 miles 4 of us decided we were getting too cold and turned round to go back home. Can’t say I have ever been so pleased that we made that decision.
The way back was the worst experiences I’ve ever had.
I was getting colder and colder and finding that I couldn’t ride hard enough to warm up. In fact, I had no idea, but I was riding slower and slower. The other three had to keep slowing down and waiting for me, which can’t have been easy for them when they were cold too, but I could only think about getting back home. My hands, arms, legs and feet were so painful and it took all my concentration just to focus on getting back home. I can’t explain how this cold felt, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that cold is an understatement.
Eventually, we did get back and I remember getting back to my car. Then I remember getting off my bike and having a sudden urge to take off my wet kit, I may have made it back to the car, but it was still a 30min drive to get back home and I have no working heating in my car. I remember struggling out of my mac and that I couldn’t get my arm out of the sleeve. But that’s it, I don’t remember anything else until I came round and there was a paramedic talking to me and I was sat in the passenger seat of my car. I had managed to pass out with hypothermia!
So, that still doesn’t explain why I can’t drive. This happened between the paramedics leaving me in A&E and the 45mins I had to wait to see a doctor. As you can imagine, I had started to warm up by then and there was no conversation between the paramedics and the doctor. It was left to me to explain to the doctor what had happened. Naturally, he asked if I’d cycled very far (I assume he thought I’d over exerted myself – silly girl!). My reply of “no, only about 15miles” was met with a stern look as if I’d just tried to ride 50000 miles without a break. He then took my temperature and declared that I was not cold enough to be hypothermic. Well no, I’ve been warming up in tin foil for the past 45mins! So, naturally, I got diagnosed with possible epilepsy, which makes complete sense. Not! This means an automatic 6 month driving ban and 6 months of me trying to prove that I am not epileptic. Not an easy thing to prove!
So finally, got the all clear from the doctors, which took 6 months. The further 4 months after this was then spent waiting for the DVLA to process my application. And it would have been a lot longer than that had I not taken to phoning them up every day for 3 weeks for an update!
So, driving licence back and I can drive my car again.
So, naturally, I have my licence back, after 10 months, and 2 weeks later my car breaksdown. Thank you Mr. Sod and your stupid law! And for those of you that are about to tell me that you can’t keep a car sitting around, I have been paying insurance and road tax on it for 10 months so that my boyfriend could drive it at least twice a week to keep it going.
Thankfully, this could have been prevented. My advise is; don’t let the weather stop you from riding, but make sure you dress appropriately! It’s better to be warm than cold and don’t assume you will warm up when riding! I was wearing thermal gear, but my mistake was lack of waterproofs. Let this story be a lesson to you, Mr Shorts in January man!
So, if anyone has a working car they would like to give me, it would be greatly appreciated!
Ok, so it’s not really an Ode, but it sounded good!
So, I’ve announced that I will be joining Starley Primal Pro Cycling team for 2014. This is both very exciting and a bit sad, because it means that I won’t be racing for Ipswich Bicycle Club anymore.
I’ve really enjoyed racing for my local club and have been proud to race in the kit, bringing a little bit of Ipswich all over the country and abroad, and I will definitely miss the “go Ipswich” from supporters all over the country who have recognised the name on my kit. But it’s time to move on up to the next level, women’s racing is rapidly improving and this move is going to help me improve with it, but whilst I’m off to new challenges, I feel it’s time to reflect on the good old cycling club.
My bicycle club has been one of the most important elements in my cycling successes so far and I’m sure the humble club has been for many other cyclists and, more importantly, the cycling club will be where the majority of the future peloton will be coming from.
Whatever your ambitions in cycling, if you have a road bike, join your local club!
The reason why I love my club so much, is that it’s full of absolute stars. From the very first time I turned up with my newly purchased road bike, extremely nervous, having no idea what to expect and ready to go straight back home again, there were always club members with friendly, smiling faces there to encourage, laugh and joke. And they didn’t ride too fast and they didn’t ride too far and they didn’t ignore me and they didn’t laugh at me because I didn’t fit in. Why was I so worried? Since then, I could be spotted at most of the club rides up until recently, when my training routine has changed, but I can still fit the odd one in here and there, it reminds me of why I love cycling so much.
I decided to join my local club because I enjoyed doing lots of miles on my bike. I stayed with my club because the club rides were so much fun and I looked forward to them all week.
If it wasn’t for these guys who, not only encouraged me to come along to the training sessions, in fact, bullied me a little into doing it, I would never have done my first race.
It can be intimidating for a female to enter the masculine world of cycling, but I have to say, it was a long while before I realised that only about 2% of riders on the club rides were women. Nowadays it’s more like 10 -20% (there’s still some way to go). I was rather oblivious of the male/ female divide until I started racing.
So, I started doing the club rides, but there is a massive step between doing these and doing my first race. Firstly, I had to build-up the courage to do the “fast club ride”, which I managed and, after a while, must have proved myself willing to push to the limits, because I was coerced into joining the newly formed chain-gang! I will admit now, that I would never have had the courage to do these, if my club mates hadn’t first encouraged me to turn up and then encouraged me to do it when I did turn up and felt like going back home again. All the riders assembled looked really fast (for the record, looks and bikes can sometimes be deceiving!) These didn’t go too well to begin with. I managed about two thirds of the route on the first go (40ish miles) and managed to crash into the back of the gang at a sudden stop and end up in the gravel strip on the second outing! I attribute this, my first cycling crash, to a certain Chris Parker. I still have the scar to prove it. Club mates aren’t all good, are they Chris? I kept going though, even when these rides were absolute torture. 60 rolling miles, hill after hill, and I only managed to finish a handful with the group. Since then, I have learnt about energy gels and sports drinks. Doh!
So, I started racing on the back of the training I did with my club and now I’m here! If my club wasn’t as friendly, encouraging and downright fun, I wouldn’t be here now and that is why it’s so important to have a good cycling club and why I hope to always have ties with the club. Yes, there are the odd grumpy angry or show-off cyclists who turn up every now and again, but it’s the eclectic mix that makes a club ride worth while.
Happy, friendly, encouraging, eclectic = successful club. Successful club+hard working and committed rider = successful cyclist.
Long live the cycling club!
Silly things seem to happen to me on Fridays. I’m adding a mini-blog to keep you updated. Just look back at my “Friday morning story” and I’ll add the latest Friday to this mini-blog.
Friday 6th February
Had one of those ride homes that you just hope to survive rather than get your training done. Ok this is more of a Thursday evening story, but I will make use of poetic licence. Although does that count when you’re not actually writing poetry, but just writing?
It was one of those days when the weather is rather pleasant on the ride in to work. The kind of day that you feel privileged to experience on the bike. But the weather turned just in time for the commute home. Cold, rain and blowing a hooley. Not the sort of weather that you look forward to commuting and then a tough session on the turbo to reward you when you get home. But hey, nobody said it was going to be easy!
Riding into driving rain with strong side gusts, thankfully my route is pretty traffic-free on country lanes, so it didn’t matter so much when I found myself two metres over the other side of the road. I found that ducking low was the best way to avoid most of the gusts and is good practice for aero position, although a bulbous backpack doesn’t contribute much to an aero tuck!
Unfortunately, ducking low doesn’t help completely and, despite my best efforts, one rather strong gust managed to catch me, just as I was riding passed a big puddle and yes, you guessed it, I ended up in said puddle. And it wasn’t just a puddle, you’ve all seen the wet weather we’ve had recently, if these puddles were there permanently, they would be named and put on maps. So, I picked myself up, out of Lake Sandy Lane and dripping, had no choice but to continue the ride home.
The good thing about it raining, is that I was wet anyway, and the good thing about falling in a puddle, is that whatever turbo session my coach has thrown at me, it won’t be as bad as this!
Unfortunately, I was wrong on that last one. Having got home, stripped out of my wet gear and put on fresh kit (yep, two lots of washing), I had to make use of the bucket that usually resides under the leaking window.
Another ride done, another training session complete, another day closer to peak fitness and succeeding in races!
Friday 6th December
Having spent the week off the bike due to a heavy cold, I was really excited (ok, maybe just enthusiastic) to be back on the bike this morning and looking forward to a weekend of endurance rides. I wrapped up warm as the temperature has dropped considerably since last week and headed out on my commute to work. after about 5mins of “easy”spinning, I wasn’t finding it very easy.
10 mins in I realised that this wasn’t something I was just going to ride out and was regretting the extra layers. As the miles slowly passed, my garmin was shouting out lap times at me just to make sure I knew I was 2mins slower per “lap”than usual and I was beginning to think my summer jersey and shorts would have been a good idea, when I turned a bend in the road and found myself facing into a head wind. For all my suffering, I had actually been riding with the assistance of a tail wind.
That is the point at which I lost my love of cycling. A weekend of long miles was now my idea of hell and I was cursing at it like a Victor Meldrew in his prime.
I rolled in to the work bike sheds in an unglamorous fashion earning a “cheer up, it’s Friday” from a fellow commuter. Who then, rather helpfully pointed out that I’d caught the brake cable within the attachment of the rear mud guard, effectively pulling the brakes on.
52mins 33secs to do 12 miles suddenly didn’t seem quite so bad. Roll on the weekend (with mud guard fitted properly).
Friday 29th November
There are two people stood next to my bike at the train station. One is me and the other is a man. We are both wearing work clothes, although I have got wellies on. Along comes a platform official. “you need to be at the front end of the platform with your bike, sir” he says. “it’s not my bike”replies the man. The official then looks around and walks about 10metres to a group of men, in suits and asks them if it’s their bike. The official looks puzzled by their answer, but spots another group of men standing some way away from my bike and asks them if they know who owns the bike. Thoroughly amused, I get my bike, which I’m standing right next to, and proceed to the front end of the platform. As I walk past the official, he frowns and says “is that your bike”. Indicating the bike that I am currently wheeling along the platform and have been stood next to all this time. It must be the wellies, they do tend to confuse things, although I would have thought the helmet swinging from my arm would have been a giveaway.
Went for my first ever fitness test with my coach on Monday.
The idea is to test all kinds of indicators which can inform my training. Although power can be more accurate, I’m currently training on heart rate because I don’t have a power-meter.
So, the fitness test included body fat percentage (using calipers). This isn’t the most glamorous of tests you can do. Really, it isn’t. It basically involves a metal clamp pinching skin (and fat) on different parts of your body, The thicknesses of the clamped bits are then jotted down. To ensure that you are thoroughly put at ease, this is then repeated. three times. To help reduce inaccuracies. Once a median if found, some magic formula is applied and hey presto! you have your body fat perentage. ish (the science is still not very accurate). No, I’m not going to tell you what mine came out as! To start with, I don’t know. I’ve asked not to know. All I need to know is that next time I have the test, it’s lower!
I then did a 6 second sprint power thing, which involved spinning up as quick as you can before a computer drops a weight, causing resistance and you have to keep spinning for 6 secs as fast as you can. This gives you your 6 second power output thingy. I have no idea what a good power output is, and I can’t remember what mine was, but my coach has it all written down and the point is that I improve on it. And that’s what I have a coach for. Anyway, before this test, you have to be weighed to calculate your power-to-weight ratio.
So, after the sprint power test, it was time to calculate my heart rate zones and VO2 max. My bike was attached to a computrainer, I was sat on the bike and a mask with tubes was attached to my face. Brilliant. And no, I don’t have any photos! So, the mask can calculate how much oxygen I’m taking in as I pedal. The computer keeps adding resistance, so it becomes harder and harder to spin, but you’ve got to keep going. As I’m peddling, Mark “the vampire” Walker, is pricking my finger and taking blood samples to test for lactate. This hurts for the first few times, but you know you’re really pushing it when the pain of pushing the pedals becomes more intense than the finger prick and you can’t feel it anymore!
So, there I am, pushing the pedals, looking a wolly with a mask over my face, concentrating on keeping my cadence up whilst getting my finger jabbed and I’m just getting to the point where it starts to hurt and I know I’ve got to keep going through the pain barrier and out the other side when… sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. Yep, the tyre punctures. There’s no good time to puncture, but nearing the end of a VO2 max test really really isn’t a good time!
Thankfully, the figures required to inform my training (heart rate zones) are all in. Just no VO2 max or maximal power output.
All good fun. I’ll learn the science of it over the next few months, just because I’m interested.