I’d crawled off the bike, back still in agonising spasm, head spinning from the rapid drop in blood sugar due to my lapse in concentration. Annoying. I’m supposed to know what I’m doing.

Up until now, the Strathpuffer had been going well (for me at least). I’d entered as a singlespeed rider, only because I was curious about being able to maintain the required pace without gears and up until the 16 hour mark, I’d been smashing it.

photo: Rachael Eaton

The only downer up until then was that Dave had earlier suffered a bad crash off the side of a bridge having been in the lead. His race over. Phil had a few problems with punctures, allowing me to overtake and lead for a while. My lap times were good. I was coping. Considering I was spinning like a loon due to my lack of proper big gears on the flat bits and standing up and grunting up most of the hills, I was enjoying this.

Then I was far from ‘coping’.

My back went. It was the same lower back pain that I had at UK24 a couple of years ago. One or two too many stood-up climbs perhaps, I grimaced my way back to the Team JMC pit, downed some protein, rubbed in some Ibuprofen gel and set off again.

After a few more laps of ‘slow n painful’ I crawled off my bike and onto a chair. Eventually I got changed into normal clothes, tried for ages to get semi-comfortable and went to sleep in the van, my race also over.

2 hours later I woke up, wriggled my toes, got dressed into dry cycling clothes and decided I was going to spend the remainder of the race salvaging some dignity. My back still very sore, I figured that I could perhaps secure the singlespeed category win if I could get a few more laps in.

I was right – I won the singlespeed cat by 3 laps but couldn’t help but be a little bit disappointed to have finished 5^th overall.

Would I do it again? Probably.

While all this was going on, Phil battled onwards and claimed the overall solo win and before he’d dropped out, Dave had recorded the fastest lap of the entire event, which wasn’t too shabby for a soloist ;0)

My second race was the grand Yorkshire League finale (I think) – the Todmorden Cyclocross event, where the vets’ race was a mere 40 minutes long. 40 minutes? I’ve had longer showers than that. I entered the vets race and to satisfy my tendencies for stupidity, I also entered the hour-long seniors (under 40s) race. At least I’d have 20 minutes or so between each race to compose myself, change into a clean jersey (how pro), etc.

Photo – Steve Makin

The course was hell. Shin-deep puddles of thick mud, the usual thigh-mashing steep climb up the slippery cobbles, more mud…some barriers to heroically leap across…some mud…

I finished the vets race in mid-table mediocrity then with only 10 minutes of the second race to go I pulled a muscle in my leg during a ‘flailing arms and legs’ dismount in the middle of (you guessed it) a bog. Off I limped to a dnf. Great fun.

There were some summer cyclocross races last year. I think they might be the way forward for me….I’d only enter one at a time in future though.

This weekend I’m finally going to make it to the start line of the Strathpuffer (I’m not going into why I didn’t make it last time again). Normally the weather forecast hovers somewhere between ‘ice’ and ‘snow’ or even both, so this is the only 24 hour race I’ll ever do where I find the current ‘wind, rain and mild temperatures’ forecast encouraging.

Despite having raced for 24 hours several times before, this time I feel like I’m stepping into the unknown. I’m tackling the race singlespeed this time. I’m also hideously under-prepared, but that’s a subject for a very boring blog post so I won’t bother.

To be fair the course suits singlespeeding quite well plus there are a few benefits in having no derailleurs or gear cables at the Strathpuffer. I’ve got a pair of On-One Scandals, one of them a brand new one that Brant personally delivered to my house last night (in return for the obligatory cuppa). Despite it having only one gear, it’s got a suspension fork and a tapered headtube. Yeah, I’m bouncing and stiff-front-ending my way into the 21^st century, readers.  I’ve also got a huge bag of brake pads, all ready for the conveyor belt of destruction.

I’ve been scratching my chin for weeks about appropriate gear ratios, I think I’ve settled on something just about sustainable for the full race on both bikes so here goes…..

• I got hit by a car a week before the Strathpuffer.
• I missed the Strathpuffer.
• I started riding bikes properly again just in time to regain some fitness for the big races in the early summer.
• I organised Hit the North 2.5 almost single-handedly…and it turned out just fine.
• Dave, Phil and me went to France to ride the cobbles of the Paris-Roubaix sportive, which was utterly brilliant.
• I had a nightmare in the Whinlatter Challenge then rode back from Keswick.
• Rode a few road sportives, most of them in the rain and wind. One of them a week after a 24 hour race (that was as horrid as it sounds).
• Me and Dave rode the Way of the Roses ‘3 day coast to coast’ in 10 hours. A record.
• I had a nightmare at the Enduro 6 which persuaded me to finally swap to tubeless tyres.
• I did ok – better than 2010 -  at the 24 Hours Of Exposure.
• I drank a very large mug of the Rapha crazy-strong expresso on a night ride and I think got a touch of caffeine poisoning.
• Me and Dave won the Gisburn Dirty Dozen pairs cat. Again.
• I came 3^rd at Mountain Mayhem behind Dave and Ant. Again.
• Rode the Dalby MTB Marathon, wished I hadn’t.
• I celebrated my 40^th birthday with family, close friends, Scotland, beer and bikes.
• I dipped my toe in the water in a couple of local road crits. Crashed.
• Me and Dave took 16 hours to ride most of a 13 hour ride.
• Had some ace skills coaching from Ed Oxley.
• My brakes disintegrated 20 miles into the Kielder 100. Worth the trip though for the start-line banter.
• I didn’t crash at the 3 Peaks Cyclocross, but was slower than the year before when I did crash.
• I won the overall solo at Relentless24.
• I changed bike sponsor to On-One/Titus.
• I rode a lot more training, commuting and racing miles in 2011 than I did in 2010 and there’s still a week left to go (not that it matters much, but still.)

More ‘yay’ than ‘boo’ in that lot I think. I’m sure I represented myself and my sponsors pretty well, I might have pulled some quality grumpy faces but I mostly had a good laugh.

Aims for 2012? Much more of the same… a notch or two of progression (or at the very least my usual ‘small increments of improvement’) in the things I’m best at – 24 hour solos – plus more fell and trail running, more short-course XC MTB races, some of that summer cyclocross, a ‘wiser’ approach to road crits (will probably still crash though), a trip to the 24 hour solo world’s in Italy, a couple of (hopefully) record-breaking daft rides and the best Hit the North ever.

Finally, I’ve always wanted to do this….I’m sending some love to the following groups and individuals that have inspired, helped, advised, encouraged and have done me big favours over the past 12 months…Debbie, Michael, Budge, Phil, Jacqui, Wayne, Dave, Angela, Brant, Matt, Lee and Rachael, Will and Pete at Hotlines, Alan at Hope, Kylie and all at 2Pure, Ant and all at Mt Zoom, the staff at Oldham hospital for scraping me off the tarmac and putting me back together again, Andrew the spider, Carl and all at Squirt Lubes, Simon, Ed for the ‘chin up’ advice, Other Dave and Alan for the riding in mud and jumping on bikes advice, Jenny and James from British Cycling, Warren, Chipps, the Twitter crowd, Greg, everyone who helped at Hit the North 2.5, everyone that has ever raced at any Hit the North, Rich and Shona at Keep Pedalling, Shaun and Sarah at Cooksons, everyone with the get-up-and-go to organise races….and anyone else who I might have forgotten. :LOVE:

Aside from the loneliness of solo late night rides in the various hills that surround Manchester, the vomit-inducing interval sessions in the cellar astride the turbo trainer and the fast lunchtime laps of the Hit the North course on whatever bike I’ve rushed out of the door on that morning, one of the highlights of the training week is the Tuesday morning, super-early, few hours before work ride with Phil.

Pretty much in the same boat as me, Phil’s got kids, a busy job and some ambitious racing goals that he needs to put the effort in for. Our Tuesday rides have been one of the cornerstones of my training for a couple of years now – it’s a moderately long road ride where we meet on a street corner in a neighbouring county then ride for a bit, catch up on family news, have a laugh then increase the pace and pretty much race each other up one of the longest (and windiest, most exposed) climbs in the country.

Down the other side, a quick handshake and we go our separate ways to work or breakfast table.

Leaving the house to go cycling at 4:50am to meet a friend 18 miles away is a pretty silly thing to do but we’ve been doing this for so long now it seems normal. The threat of email and Twitter taunts if one of us cries off means that the motivation to get out of bed is always there and not once have we had a ‘crap ride’. Even when it’s dark and it’s snowing….just like at the Strathpuffer.

I’ve edited out quite a lot, including a number really horrible bits that look verrrry slow on-screen, but I think this gives you the general idea. There’s a lot of leaves out there (because it’s November, duh!) and it’s pretty slippy-slidey in places but I reckon this is the best course yet.

Not entered yet? Get your name down! 

Everyone likes an honest, value for money, fun-but-challenging bike event. Well, most people I know do anyway. Hit the North, I reckon, is all of those things and more. So when I see that someone else is also sticking their neck out and organising something at a grass-roots level, I’m immediately interested.

As soon as I read what The Bowland Badass was all about, I sent off my entry. It’s basically a very long (160 miles!), hilly and consequently very tough road sportive in the north of England that costs next to nothing to enter but also promises a signed route (important for directionally-challenged fools like me) and some support in the form of feed stations. Also pretty important for a 160 mile route.

I’m loving this trend towards low-cost, high-value road events, almost pioneered last year by my mate Allen at Polocini. The whole sportive market was starting to get too congested with dozens of overly expensive, oversubscribed events with very little value for money and unimaginative routes – luckily events such as Allen’s and now ‘The Badass’ are shaking things up, injecting a healthy dose of punk rock into an otherwise endangered format.

And if you’re worried or dismiss sportives due to their supposed ‘non-competitive’ nature, they can be great fun if the route is brutal enough, because you don’t have to keep stopping to check a map and quite honestly you can get away with treating it as a race

Byeeee!

Those of you that have seen the news on the On-One website will know already that I’m not riding for Ragley anymore.

The last two-and-a-half years have been pretty special – the amount of success, especially in 24 hour races, that I’ve enjoyed has been way beyond what I expected and the level of support I’ve had from the guys at Hotlines (Ragley UK distributor) has been exceptional.

In short, it’s been ace.

Things were all set to change though when Brant left Ragley and headed back to On-One. After a slightly rushed meeting in the Lee Quarry car park (complete with stealthy prototype), the decision was made to join in the fun (with Dave and also some new team mates) and ride for On-One and the newly-acquired Titus brand in 2012.

As usual, there’s a simple plan. Amazing new bikes. Loads more races. Big races, little races, daft rides. Fun.

Hitting the lack of taste issue head on though are Clif with their new gels. I’ve been using Clif products for some time now and I’ve often praised their carb drinks and Shot Bloks for their ease of use, taste and effectiveness. These gels though take things to another level, taste-wise.

2pure sent me some samples so I’ve had the chance to try all the different flavours….

Let’s not beat around the bush here. The ‘Double Expresso’ gel is utterly GORGEOUS. It contains a couple of shots of caffeine (which is a lot) so don’t go caning them at bedtime but the taste…..wow. I actually kept a bit of this one in my mouth for a while as I rode back from an early morning ride the other day because it tasted so good.

They remind me of those M&S ‘this is no ordinary caffeine-laced energy gel….’ adverts. (yes, I know M&S have never sold energy gels but if they did….)

Then there’s the chocolate one! Yes! Chocolate! No choco-substitute plastic rubbish either. Organic chocolate that tastes as good as it sounds and delivers a good chunk of carbohydrate and electrolyte fuel at the same time.

The ‘Razz’ raspberry flavour ones taste like jam. I’m going to have raspberry Clif gels on toast in my next 24 hour race. Or perhaps on a crumpet….mmmmmmmmm.

Even the wrapper is clever

Treat yourself. Buy some. You’re more than worth it. Then when you’ve finished one, do what I do and pull apart the wrapper to finish it off.

Here we go again. Yep, ‘we’. I almost single-handedly organised last year’s HTN, which was satisfying but pretty knackering. The fact that Andrew has now returned and the old partnership is driving the HTN bubble car will mean that things will be a bit less frantic on the day and we should be able to develop the event a bit…

First of all we need contestants – the entry opened last week and at this rate we’ll be sold out pretty soon.

Enter!

Our honeymoon, planned for 5 months after the diving in the murky, freezing depths of the quarry near Lancaster, would include diving at the Great Barrier Reef. In contrast to the quarry near Lancaster, the Barrier Reef would be warm, inviting and wouldn’t need us to wear protective clothing that made us look like a bloody Michelin Man. We wanted to enjoy the experience without having to spend part of the holiday learning the ropes so we decided to get that out of the way before we went.

Getting the horrible stuff out of the way, nailing it so that a better life can be enjoyed later.

Around 14 hours into last weekend’s Relentless 24 in Fort William, I started to recall memories of those dives in the quarry. I was leading the race, I was feeling strong and I was quietly and cautiously confident that I’d be able to stay consistent through to the end of the race to pull off the win. At the same time I was freezing cold, sick and tired of the constant rain and I was trying to decide if this was indeed the most miserable conditions at a 24 hour race I’ve ever had the misfortune to race in.*

When the weather worsened and The Persistent Bloody Rain was joined by its good friend The Howling Sodding Wind my mind was made up. This was miserable beyond anything I’d done before.

Despite all that, the things that maintained my focus on the job in hand (apart from caffeine-laced Shot Bloks) were the excellent and fast trails that made up the course and the fact that there was a trip to the World 24 Hour Solo Championship in Finale, Italy for the overall solo winner of this race. A 24 hour race. On the Mediterranean coast of Italy. Warmth. Dust. Lovely glass of rosso, Signore? Oh, don’t mind if I do. After this lovely, warm, dusty 24 hour race though, eh compagno? Don’t bother with mud tyres. Don’t forget the factor 30.

I was heading for the win and in fairness, I had been since lap 2. I was keeping it together and my lap times, for me anyway, were nice and consistent. I’d have to stop occasionally to re-apply chain lube and replace brake pads but I was staying in front of Huw Thomas, a guy very much in form at the moment and a rider that I knew I would have to gap early on. Every so often my lead would be cut by a couple of minutes as I swapped brake pads but I seemed to be coping ok with that and responding by putting in a quicker lap next time round. It wouldn’t take too much for me to lose the lead, a major mechanical would see to that, so I had to keep extending it.

Meanwhile, Dave hadn’t been feeling 100% and eventually he dropped out when he started to feel worse, deciding he’d achieve more by helping me keep my bikes working and joined Angela in the pit. From that point on I’d have a clean bike each lap with a freshly-lubed chain, with brakes that worked and a fresh bottle. Occasionally Angela would present me with a flask of hot ravioli or a small cup of hot coffee – I was constantly cold so the occasional few mouthfuls of warm food and drink was working pretty well to keep my spirits up.

The darkness laps seemed to last an eternity – it’s a long time between sunset and sunrise in the Scottish Highlands in October but once the dawn did arrive, I knew there would only be 5 hours to go. I needed to make sure I was way out in front by then.

A torn rear tyre on the spare bike was a setback, the tube (yep, still running tubes on the spare bike) popped through the sidewall and exploded like a bomb. I rode half a lap on the rim, worried that I was going to destroy a 70 quid rim in the process but also mindful that if I ran the 4 miles or so back to the pit, I’d probably lose the lead.

Back to the pit. Back on the main bike (tubeless!). Smash it again.

Dawn arrived and I found myself, as planned, way out in front. I remained consistent, motivated by the daylight and the constant encouragement from Angela and Dave. The rain continued. I was wetter than an otter’s pocket. But I didn’t care anymore. Still thinking of the glittering prize, I was having this.

Last lap. I thanked all the marshals. An hour of being very careful indeed. Angela took my jacket just before I rode across the finish line. I dismounted, held the bike above my head (I’ve always wanted to do that) and embraced my two completely knackered friends that had stayed up all night to make sure I was able to win the race by two clear laps.

attractive, huh?

After a quick shower and the presentation (The overall solo winner’s ‘Opportunity to race at the Worlds in Italy’ confirmed by the man with the microphone. Yay!),I phoned Deb and I played Internet catch-up with friends and family, most of whom had been flooding the Twitter and Facebook feeds with congratulations.

A quick kip in the hotel, then we were out in the bustling metropolis of Fort William for a large meal of pies, curly fries, haggis, hot dogs, pizza and lashings of real ale to properly seal the win.

*despite the miserable weather, Relentless 24 really is a gem of a race – brilliantly organised with an irresistible sense of humour and inclusion, using trails that don’t fall apart at the first sign of water, all the facilities that you could possibly want in one of the most stunning locations in the country. Do it.