I’ve set up a Just Giving page so I can collect sponsorship for the CLIC24 race in May. I’ve also managed somehow to put a button over there on the left <—-

I need a minimum amount in order to race so feel free to throw cash at me.

It’s been a few years since I did CLIC – it was my first 24 hour solo and I remember arriving in a storm the night before the race and staying up all night, holding my tent down. I did it completely solo as well, like a blithering idiot. Great race though – the course is a humdinger. I managed 13 laps before collapsing in a heap, then driving home from Somerset (praise the lord for Red Bull).

The Iditarod Trail Invitational race started yesterday. I’ve been following John “Shaggy” Ross’ preparation for this on his blog for a while now, so it’s going to be interesting to see how he gets on (hopefully his -40-rated sleeping bag will work as it should!).

Even though I don’t know him – GO SHAGGY!

well, not quite. But it is getting noticibly warmer and lighter during my early morning rides these days. It’s still dark at 5am 😉 but it’s daylight when I get home, which is rather nice. Once again I was “buffeted” by the infernal wind this morning.

I rediscovered the joy of stretching last night. I spent an hour or so bending and flexing and feel loads better for it. I’ve been totally crap at stretching for far too long now (in that I haven’t been bothering) and I think it’s started to show…hopefully displaying my special moves in front of the telly every Monday night will sort out my tight bits 😉

I had my route all planned out yesterday – Oldham, Holmfirth, Holme Moss, Winnat’s, down to Buxton….some navigational issues (including forgetting to bring a complete map) around Holmfirth had me riding a little too far over to the east. By the time I realised I’d gone wrong I was quite close to Sheffield. No problem, it’s all good training miles. I headed west and realised immediately that the northwesterly breeze had become a blasting, howling wind. I grovelled along the Woodhead Pass, had to pedal down hills as well as up to maintain any kind of forward movement. I carried on to Glossop, finally reaching some shelter from the wind and headed south towards Buxton. If I was going to ride a century today it was going to be tight – I estimated that I’d have a shortfall of 10 miles or so by the time I reached Debbie’s mum’s house so I added an extra bit and descended into the Goyt Valley. The climb out played havoc with my hamstrings so I’m going to have to stretch more –  I was still looking at a shortfall of a few miles.

I got to Prestbury at 92 miles. Sod it, I thought. That’ll do.

“That’ll do” because of the following:

• My tea was ready. Roast beef and yorkshire pud.
• The headwind was totally pissing me off and it was getting stronger.
• I was out of food and water.
• I had to properly stretch this hamstring sometime soon. I mean, properly stretch it, as in “sat on a carpeted floor with a cuppa whilst stretching”.
• It’s a training ride – 8 miles won’t make any bleeding difference. I’m not going to fanny around riding around the village 4 times.
• It’s as near as dammit to a century.
• Did I mention my tea was ready?

I’m claiming that as a century. No arguments.

92 miles, 6.5 hours, 14.2 mph average grovelling speed,  2820 metres climb.