Back again to Paris by bike - Part 2: Paris Triathlon

Given that I have spent so much time in Paris over the course of my life these days my trips there tend to be for a specific reason. I travelled there earlier this year to go an interview the top brass at Amaury Sports Organisation/L'Equipe Media at their offices just in the suburbs at Boulogne Billancourt. This time I was back again to take part in the Garmin Triathlon de Paris. 

It is an event that I had been wanting to do for some time. Originally I had thought of taking part in a swimming event that took place the week before the triathlon, in the same area - Ourcq Canal. That was going to be just an open water swimming event. I have been doing a fair amount of open water swimming and I felt ready to do an event, but getting to Paris in time for this event was proving tricky logistically. So as a kind of "consolation" I decided to do the triathlon, given that that would involve open water swimming in the same canal, plus a bonus of a bike ride right into central Paris. 

Based to the north-east of the city, in the 19th arrondissement of Paris, the Ourcq Canal is part of the canal network in Paris that includes the Canal Saint Denis and the Canal Saint Martin. The latter connects to the Ourcq Canal via the Bassin de la Villette, a rectangular artificial lake which is the site for leisure activities on the water, including sailing, pedalos and there is a cordoned-off section to form a Lido during the summer months. The wider area, Parc de la Villette is home to a science and technology museum, concert venues, an open-air cinema, and on this weekend, the Garmin Paris Triathlon.  

The triathlon took place at a timely moment for me because I had a medical certificate, and obligatory document that most French sports events ask that you have in order to participate. In fact it was due to expire on 25th June - the day after triathlon. So that was lucky!

Arrival into Paris 

On my arrival into Paris Saint Lazare station, I had initially thought to do the 20-minute ride straight to the Parc de la Villette where I would sign-on for the event, pick up my race pack, and leave my bicycle there overnight. All participants had to leave their bikes at that the transition the day before, given the size of the field - there were around 2000 participants.

Cycle path on the left-bank of the River Seine

But I was not in the mood to get shot of my bike so soon after arriving into this city that looked even more beautiful on this hot sunny day. So I decided to do a mini tour first. It wouldn't do any harm, especially as I had only ridden 20 miles on my stint through Normandy. So a flat 10 or 15 miles were not going to totally tire me out. 

From the station I headed slightly north towards Rome metro station and then cycled along the grand boulevard to reach Charles de Gaulle Etoile. There were lots of cyclists and scooters out, with some on the cycle lanes while others were on the main carriageway. Traffic is quite dense and can be slow-going, even with segregated cycle lanes. So it tends to be every man and woman for themselves regardless of what mode of transport they are on. I guess, as a regular cycle commuter in London this was nothing new to me. 

You have to be careful on the cycle lanes because they aren't 100% segregated as they have openings, notably for delivery vehicles to pull in. The lanes also melt away at junctions and so it's a question of following bicycle markings on the road surface, though not all road users or even cyclists follow them.

My main issue with riding around Paris is the various cobbled sections. I am sure my road bike can handle those sections, but when I am bike packing I still worry that something might get rattled off or break. 

After a mini photo opportunity stops at the Arc de Triomphe, Trocadero (near the Eiffel Tower), and on the river near Alexandre III Bridge, I rode along the lovely cycle path along the river. This path doesn't just go through the famous areas, but also into the less glamourous parts of south-east Paris, after Austerlitz station and near Ivry Sur Seine. In fact I was able to get to my loggings at Maison Alfort via the cycle paths.

Late Registration at Parc de la Villette 

This was the time to drop off my bags and then continue my ride up to La Villette. When I told the receptionist that I would be cycling up to the Parc in the north-east of city, he looked at me like I was mad. He was saying I would need all evening to get up there! Really? I almost began to wonder if it was a strange thing to do.

Well, in fact the route was around 40 minutes along the cycle path on the grand boulevards via Pere Lachaise Cemetery and Belleville. I remember at the time when I lived in Paris I only ever travelled by public transport, and it's true that the idea of cycling from one end of the city to another seemed a long way. In fact, it is when you cycle that you realise just how compact Paris is.

At Parc de la Villette there was a vibrant atmosphere in anticipation of the event, with various trade stalls up, a bit of music and a commentator contributing to an animated vibe. In a way I was glad to get there when I did - about an hour before they were closing the event village - as I didn't have to queue up. The transition area looked impressive with thousands of bikes. I almost wished I'd brought a balloon or something as an aide-memoire for where my bike was. Would I know where to find my bike when I exited the water?

Sign-on at Paris Triathlon Event village

Getting back to my apartment by public transport was straightforward and I had worked out how to get to the triathlon in time for the 7.15am start the following morning.

Early start for race day

The following morning I took a 5.30am metro to Porte de Pantin. Unsurprisingly the train was full of people all dressed in sports gear, showing off their race numbers. Seeing people with the same wave number as myself made me feel reassured that I wasn't late. 

It's not that easy remembering where your bike is among all this!

Setting up my gear in the transition area was easy enough as all the essential items had been left there overnight. I didn't feel too nervous about the event as I considered myself to be just a Jonny come lately who fancied having a go. I knew that I could do all the individual disciplines. I just had to be mindful of not making a silly mistake like not adjusting my goggles properly, or not eating/drinking enough while on the bike.

There was a palpable sense of excitement and nervous anticipation among the participants, especially as I stood in the rather long queue to the portaloo. The walk to the start was a good 800m along the grass and the canal towpath. Many people were wearing old trainers (which could be left at the startline and collected by clothing charities). As I had to travel light, I wore a few pairs of thick old socks.

After a short delay due to the organisers having to remove some parked cars from the bike course the event began, with competitors and spectators alike cheering and applausing each triathlon wave that began before us, and also the single duathlon wave as the participants ran along the opposite side of the canal from us.

Eventually, my wave (wave 3) began and we eased forward through our holding pen to reach the entry point in the Canal Ourcq. Knowing that swimming is my weak point, and not wanting to be caught up in a bunfight in the water I put myself at the back of the pack. I was fine with that. What I wasn't fine with, was the sight of folks at the front of our pen leaping into the water. I was shocked to think that I would have to do that to. Is this a French thing, for participants to leap into the water? Is coldwater shock just a myth that they dismiss? I wasn't looking forward to having to leap into the canal. 

The Swim

Thankfully, as I reached the pontoon I realised that there were in fact two queues - one for those who would leap into the water, while the longer queue was for the majority of us, myself included, who would gently lower ourselves into the water.

My race had finally begun. In the rather warm water, I did a few breast strokes before beginning front crawl, and I was quickly into my rhythm. This was the first time this year that I was doing an openwater swim in a competitive environment. I then had to remind myself of the need to not just be sighting ahead, but also looking out for other swimmers. Even though I was at the back of the pack, there were a few people who swam past me. I am assuming they were late-comers. Furthermore, I began to catch a few swimmers - something that I don't normally do when swimming - those sessions at my local pool in Crystal Palace had obviously paid off. 

The water was surprisingly clear, and I was a bit surprised at how many ferns and plants were in the water. I was also surprised to see how many people were lined along the side of the canal cheering us on. I didn't know who any of the people were, and they hadn't come to see me, but I still felt very spurred on by their support. After what seemed like a short time, I suddenly reached the finish gantry of the swim, where there were steps to take us back onto the towpath, as well as marshals to give us a helping hand.

Rubbish transition 

My transition (the unofficial 4th discipline) was a mess. Firstly, I struggled to get my wetsuit off. In order to cut down on luggage space I took my smallest wetsuit of the three I own - the swimrun wetsuit. I also chose this one because it zips up at the front, meaning I could put it on myself without assistance, and it would be easier for me when doing the last-minute dash to the loo. 

I hadn't thought about how tricky it would be to remove while running from the canal back to my bike. As I clumsily struggled to extricate myself from this stubborn neoprene while running, a fellow competitor stopped to help me. It was really nice of her, and the offer was much appreciated, but I declined all the same - not just because I didn't want to mess up her race, but also because there'd be a risk of disqualification for giving outside help to a competitor. The transition area seemed to be awash with French Triathlon Federation referees, all ready to pounce and be a jobsworth! So I continued my mini contortion dance. 

Once out of my wetsuit I then had to find my bike. I was sure I had come to the right place, but I couldn't find my bike. I almost thought someone had taken my beloved Boardman in the rush. Then I realised I had got my orientation wrong and the bike was at the other end of the bike park - more time wasted. 

The Bike

Finally, I got out on my bike and felt much more in my element. As this was thexsprint triathlon, billed as suitable for all levels of athlete, including newbies, there were lots of different types of bicycles on the road. 

Naturally there were lots of experienced bike riders on expensive road bikes with aero bars, and wearing cleats. But there were also folks on hybrid bikes mountain bikes, even shopping bikes. One woman had a rear-view mirror attached to her handlebars!

Zooming through central Paris

As someone who is used to cycling around the streets of Paris I was familiar with the roads on the course. The big difference was that we were on closed roads and could ride as fast as we wanted (or as fast as our legs would allow) through some of the most famous parts of Paris, with no regard to traffic signs, delivery vans, or pedestrians crossing the roads. It was like doing high(ish)-speed tourism. 

The route went along the Canal Saint Martin, out to République, Bastille, then along the main road that hugs the River Seine all the way to Place de la Concorde. That was the turnaround point, where we turned back and returned via the cycle path along the River. It was a fast mainly flat course where you could do the whole thing on the big ring. My biggest issue was the cobbles. There was a long stretch between Tuileries and Concorde, where I ended up slowing right down and all the people I had previously overtaken could now get their own back on me. A similar thing happened right at the end of the bike course, on the approach through the Parc de la Villette. The cobbles in this area were much bigger than in central Paris. They were more like the big round Roubaix pavé. Knowing that I would need my bike to get back to my lodgings, and also back to London, I preferred to go easy and lose places on the bike leg. 

The Run

By this time the crowds were quite thick, both at the finish of the bike leg, and the start of the run leg. Even though it was a sprint race on largely gentle terrain, the organisers decided to put a sting in the tail by having the run route go over a long flight of steps onto a bridge to cross the canal.

Tough work on the bridge after climbing up 200 steps!

Then it was case of going along the dead straight towpath into the suburb of Pantin, then over a ramp to return along the other side of the Canal Ourcq. Running has tended to be my strongest discipline in the past, but not today. Injury had meant that I had missed out on running training, so was not on form. 

So this was just going to be a 6km survival run, going past the less visited parts of Paris - train tracks from the Gare de l'Est with disused locomotives, old containers, disused factories. Then later there were working class blocks of flats. There wasn't really anything to keep me going. I just had to steal myself and believe I would get through it in the mounting heat. 

I didn't feel that strong, especially as many runners overtook me. There were still folks going slower than me, with some even reduced to walking. 

Fortunately another runner was going at the same pace as myself, and we ran side by side for a few miles. There was no communication between us. We were aware of one another, but were focused on our respective races - living our own tribulations. I didn't feel bothered to have the lady running close by - it was good to have someone to keep me going. 

Then in the last couple of kilometres she put in a spurt, and I just couldn't keep up with her as she disappeared into the distance. It was hard to know where the finish gantry was as it was around a bend. Eventually, I passed the familiar spot where it had all begun a couple of hours earlier. I therefore knew I had 600m to go. 

The crowds began to thicken again, further confirming that the challenge was coming to an end. At that point I put in a final effort of what I could muster, as well as putting on my most presentable face for the finish line photograph. Immediately after crossing the finish line I felt like I was going to throw up. Thankfully I managed to hold things together, which was the better thing to do, given that there was a camera interviewing an athlete right next to me. 

Glad to have made it to the finish line!

Medal Saturday!

After a minute I had a big smile at the thought that I had completed a triathlon in my favourite foreign city. At the post-race feed station I saw the lady who I'd run with earlier, and we congratulated each other. She said she too had been suffering on the run, but found a second wind after the turnaround point. 

Who knows, maybe I will see her in another race in Paris in the future. After the customary medal and T-shirt I was able to have a sit-down in the park and enjoy my achievement in the sunshine.

Related posts 

Wanna do the Paris Triathlon? What you need to know

Aquathlon (Aquabike) at Hever Castle

Swim Serpentine and London Classics Medal - done

Cycle route: Eastern suburbs of Paris by bike

Paris-Roubaix Femmes: Pre-thoughts and after-thoughts from the riders

It was great to see this big moment in history over the weekend, when women raced the Paris-Roubaix for the first time ever. I remember asking Christian Prudhomme, of Amaury Sport Organisation (ASO) in 2018, when he thought there would be a Paris-Roubaix for women. He said, at the time that they were focused on a junior race for the male riders, and that they would put on a women's race but there were time constraints and it would be something to look for in the future. Naturally, campaigners for women's cycling were not impressed with this reply.

So it was great news to hear, last year, that a woman's race would be taking place. Finally it came to pass, over the weekend, and it didn't disappoint. Although the route was less than half the distance of the men's race, being 116.4km and without the infamous Forest of Arenberg cobbles, the race was anything but easy. With the women hitting the cobbles after just 30km and going into Mons-en-Pévèle as well as Carrefour de L'Arbre, the racers will have their work cut out for them. Many women were quite clear that they would be in for a tough ride - and it certainly was.

Photo: Trek-Segafredo

There was no bunch finish for first place, as Lizzie Deignan (Trek-Segafredo) won from an 85km breakaway, with Marianne Vos (Jumbo-Visma) who made a spirited attempt to chase down the British rider, entering the famous Roubaix Velodrome more than a minute behind to finish in second place. Deignan's team-mate Elisa Longo-Borghini not far behind in third place. There was a bunch sprint of around 10 riders for the minor placings and thereafter women finished in ones and twos.  

Of 129 starters, just 61 finished, with riders either missing the time cut or dropping out following a crash, notably Annemiek Van Vleuten (Team Movistar) who crashed and broke her pelvis.

Interestingly, the race was topped and tailed by British riders, with the first placed rider being Lizzie Deignan, and the last classified finisher, in 61st place being Abby-Mae Parkinson (Lotto Soudal Ladies). 

I interviewed a number of different women before the race. It is interesting to hear a few of their reactions after their first experience of the Hell of the North:

Alice Barnes, Canyon-SRAM Racing [26th]

Before: 

"I would say it’s [Paris-Roubaix is] one of the races on the calendar that suits me the most, with it being flat, but with the cobbled aspect which will make it a tough race. So I am glad that in my lifetime I will be able to race it. Hopefully I will have some good luck and good legs and get a good result. I heard a lot of people say that there’s nothing like Roubaix cobbles. I would say in Holland or Belgium I have ridden cobbles a bit like it but I think it’s the back to back cobbles and the relentlessness that makes it a much different race from any race on the calendar. Hopefully with it being the women’s first edition we can put on a good race, and it’ll be exciting and I’ll be there in the thick of the action with the rest of my team.

"I am really excited. I do like the cobbles – I don’t know if I will be saying that at the end of Saturday, but it’s just an exciting race and I’ve watched it for years and years when there’s been the men’s racing. I’ve been inspired from that, but hopefully having a women’s edition will inspire more women to want to race the event as well."

Photo: Tino Pohlmann

After:

"To be honest, overall I am disappointed. I just didn't have the legs. I tried to block this out and just kept pushing which seemed the common advice anyway. I found myself in a group that was working fairly well together, and when I got to the velodrome, I just had to ride for the best place I could.

"I wish I could have soaked in the atmosphere at the finish, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed with how my day went. As a team, we had bad luck with losing Kasia [Niewiadoma] early and the puncture of Elise [Chabbey]  as she was really well positioned when she got this and felt she had good legs."

Asked if she would like to return to next year's edition, to be held in April, Barnes was quick to reply. "Yes, 100%. I know this can be a good race for me. I can see myself and Paris-Roubaix having a love-hate relationship for the rest of my career."

Chantal van den Broek-Blaak, SD Worx [10th]

Before:

"The cobbles are bad. They are flat, but there are holes everywhere and you need to have speed to ride over it, and that’s the problem because if you are tired you won’t have the speed anymore. And also the rests [on the tarmacked roads] in between cobbled section are so short – sometimes only 2km or 3km before going into the next section, so that makes it hard. 

"I didn’t really dream about this race when I was younger, as you don’t really know what kind of rider you are. But in the last years I have seen that I am a pure classic, one day racer. I am normally good in the Spring. I have won Flanders and Strade Bianche and those kind of races. So then you know you are able to do it; so of course when I saw this race on the calendar I was directly super-happy. That was my first reaction. My second reaction was I probably can do it, but I didn’t really know, so that made me nervous. I think I prepared well, and in the end we will see how it goes. Maybe I’m not made for it, I don’t know!" 

Photo: Tornanti

After:

"It was super tough, but what a cool race this is. I think everyone is completely empty. It was a really chaotic race, but we were sitting pretty comfortably in. I did not expect [Lizzie] Deignan's attack on the first cobblestone section, however. Super clever of her that she could stay ahead until the end with so much wind and such a tough course. Hats off."

Jolien d'Hoore, SD Worx [Finished outside time limit]

Before:

"Paris-Roubaix is just beautiful. I love it. It’s a hard race. We never experienced anything like this before so it’s going to be new for everybody and I’m really looking forward to it.

"I live on the course of Tour of Flanders and so we have cobbles, but you can’t compare them with these ones in Paris-Roubaix. The cobbles in Paris-Roubaix are more like a bunch of rocks thrown together, whereas the cobbles in Flanders are still pretty smooth.

"I am more a fan of a dry race, where it’s safe for everybody. When it’s raining it’s just going to be a matter of surviving and not crashing. And that has nothing to do with cycling anymore; I just want the best rider to win on Saturday and not the ride who has the most luck.

"Paris-Roubaix is the race I remember the most when I was a little girl. I was watching it on the television from the start until the finish. I can still remember riders like Johan Museeuw and especially Tom Boonen. I can remember 2012 when Boonen did a long solo, so it’s crazy that I am now riding on the same cobbled sections as he did. That just gives me goosebumps."

Photo: Cor Vos

After:

"It was literally hell. We explored the course in dry weather, now the cobblestones were super slippery due to the rainfall. One brake and you crashed. That's Roubaix.
Mentally it was difficult to continue the race after my second crash, but there was never a moment to give up. In my last race [of her career before retiring] I didn't want to get in the broom wagon. I had only one goal left: ignore the pain, get to the finish, and enjoy the last kilometres."

Lizzie Deignan, Trek-Segafredo, [Winner]

Before:

"Paris-Roubaix Femmes is something that should have happened long ago, but it is a big step forward in women’s cycling, and it’s great to see the respect women are gaining in cycle racing. 

"I think the course is fine as it is. When designing the course we have to think about the race and the various teams and riders involved. The most important thing is to have a women’s Paris-Roubaix. Which cobbles should or shouldn’t be included can be looked at in the future."

After:

"I feel very emotional. I am just really proud....I cannot believe it happened.... At the start of the day we said, 'you know the rulebook: anything can happen'. It was a case of just fighting to be at the front in those first cobble sections, and I knew that Ellen [van Dijk], one of our [team] leaders, was not in such a good position. And I thought, 'well if at least I am there [at the front] I can cover something'. And when I looked behind, no one was there, and I thought 'well at least they will have to chase me down, so I carried on.' I was riding with the assurance that my team-mates Ellen, Elisa [Longo-Borghini] and Audrey [Cordon-Ragot] were behind me. We had the best team in the race and that's why I won. 

"I didn't know I was going to win until I entered the velodrome! I couldn't hear anything, my legs were cramping, and I knew that even on the last section you could lose two minutes if you cramped and blew up. I really just tried to keep a regular pace. At this point in the season, I am tired and I knew the best thing for me was to keep a steady pace and stay in front for as long as I could. Paris-Roubaix has always been a men's race and I am just so proud that women's cycling is on the world stage now. I am proud that my daughter can look at the cobblestone trophy."

My Cycling Year So Far - Tour of Flanders

Belgium Bound

Cyclist central at Oudenaarde

Another high point of my year so far has been my trip to ride the cobbles of the Tour of Flanders. It had been a few years since I last cycled this event. The last time I rode this Spring Classic was in 2007, and had a great time there. I hadn't intended to to leave it this long before going back again.

Since the time when I last rode it, they had moved the start and finish from Ninove to Oudenaarde, and they had reintegrated Koppenberg, which had been removed from the course for refurbishments.

Apart from that, the atmosphere, fanfare and zeal of all the racers was just as present as ever.

Away from industrial Asse and now in Denderleeuw

I travelled to Flanders by Eurostar to Brussels and then cycled from there to Oudenaarde. The route I took was nothing to write home about, as it passed through some industrial areas around Anderlecht and Asse.

It was only after Denderleeuw that the landscape began to look like the pretty Flandrian scenes that we see on television. I guess when you do these types of rides you get to see places as they are - warts and all.


Word on the street - cycling on Belgian roads

The road conditions were okay. Getting out of Brussels was easy enough. Even though there were bike lanes I still needed to be careful as vehicles would still park in the bike lanes. Some of the bike lanes were so narrow that on occasions you were riding in the gutter, so it was better to ride further out from the kerb, in the flow of the traffic and on a decent road surface. You also need to be careful of crossing side roads, and make sure that cars aren't turning across your path.

In short, riding through Brussels was not bad, but it was not this cycling paradise that people claim is so much nicer than riding along streets the UK. People can be too quick to say that cycling in Europe is better than cycling in the UK. My experience is that in all countries you get good bits and not so good bits. You get good drivers and careless drivers everywhere.

Once into the Flandrian countryside I was on trunk roads that had cycle lanes which was great, though bear in mind that on many side roads that were not trunk roads there are no cycle lanes, the roads are not especially wide, so the conditions are no different from riding on a minor road in the UK.


Riding up Koppenberg

Some local riders at Koppenberg

After a pleasant 40 miles I arrived at my lodgings which were just outside Oudenaarde, and around the corner, literally from Koppenberg. That area was quite busy as lots of folks were practicing it ahead of the cyclosportive and before the crowds arrive. It was a good opportunity to chat to various folks - who seemed to have come from everywhere. Of course there were people from the local area, but there were folks from the UK, France, Germany, Italy, even a group from South Africa.

Saturday was the big day, at least for we amateurs, so I rode the three miles from my bed & breakfast to reach central Oudenaarde, from where I began my ride.

As I was a little late getting up, and I knew I would  need to be back in time to see the professional women's team presentations, I decided to do the 74km option. That wasn't an easy ride though, because it still included around 14 bergs. The tough challenges of Paterberg, Oude Kwaremont, and Koppenberg were included, with the latter being tackled barely 10km into the ride.

Koppenberg didn't fail to disappoint, It was a 15-20% gradient, with cobbles everywhere, and crowds of other riders. Being on my cross bike meant that I felt more comfortable in my riding position, and the tyres offered that bit more cushioning - quite important for my 50-year old bones!

For me, it was just important to keep a good core stability, stay relaxed, hold my line, and be ready to shout "on your left/on your right" very assertively.

The tactic almost worked, but then a woman in front of me, who seemed to be riding well, fell over. She was Italian and her cycling buddy had been shouting words of encouragement to her [Dai, dai] and she seemed to be feeding off that, but then suddenly, bang! She hit the deck, and I had no where to go, so had to dismount quickly.



That was a bit annoying as I was near the top, and thought I had conquered the beast. In my bloody mindedness I walked back to almost the bottom of the climb and decided to attempt it again. The area was quite thick with riders and spectators, and a few people offered to give me a push as I remounted my bike. Then they all shouted Allez, Allez as I strained to get up the climb for a second time, through gritted teeth. This time I did it, and felt like I had won the Tour of Flanders!


Feeling old after Oude Kwaremont and Paterberg

This gave me the confidence to cope with the other bergs to come. Our route didn't include Geraadsbergen or Kapelmuur/Mur de Gramont, but we had enough to be getting on with. Oude Kwaremont was not so steep, but it went on for a long time, and the cobbles seemed sharper and disordered compared with other bergs, so it was a bumpier ride. It was definitely the area to be though, as a spectator as there was loads of pumping music, and a massive beer tent of the same name, and loads of people who seemed to already be on the way to getting drunk.

A word of warning - the descent from Kwaremont is lovely and fast, but then you round the right-hand corner and you are met with this steep cobbled uphill. That was Paterberg. I could have stayed on the bike, and quickly tried to find my low gear, on the hill, but I didn't have the legs to cope with the change of gear. So I just dismounted and manually changed gear in order to comfortably tackle the ascent. Once again, it was a case of being mindful of the folks who were dismounting on the hill once they ran out of gears, as well as those who chose to walk in the middle of the road. This climb felt as steep as Koppenberg, but was not long. However, I still felt quite tired after the previous exertions, so it was harder work for me.

Feeling happy after riding Paterberg (and Oude Kwarement too)

It was a relief to have been able to do those tough three bergs, as well as the other ones. I just had to put my head down and hurry back over the remaining 15 or so miles to get to the finish line. My lack of fitness began to show, and I felt quite tired. A few people past me, and I wanted to jump on their wheels, but I didn't have the strength to hold their wheels. So I just rode back at my own pace.

It was just great to see the finish line, knowing that I still had the ability to ride even the tough bergs.

A good day out in Flanders

Flanders is a great place to be when the bike races are on. At the lovely place where I stayed, Enjoy B&B Today, there was a group of Irish guys, and some Italians from Turin as well. Around Oudenaarde and the surrounding area there were also lots of people from the UK, and I recognised jerseys from local clubs like Kingston Wheelers and Dulwich Paragon. There was a large contingent from my club, Penge CC, though I travelled separately from them. It was good to bump into Dougie Fox and other riders from Crawley Wheelers. I don't get to talk to them much when I'm in London - so it was just ironic that it took a cycling event abroad to get us to sit down and have a chat with them over a beer! But that's what the Tour of Flanders does.

Feed station at Ronse, where you bump into people you know

Related Posts
Tour of Flanders ride 2007

Mallorca vs Flanders

Surviving the Paris Roubaix cobbles

Annaleena does Paris Roubaix in winter

Can-do Girls - Annaleena does Paris-Roubaix...in midwinter!

Following on from my post a month ago for International Women's Day I will be continuing my series on women who have done impressive things or accomplished amazing achievements. Those that have been where others fear to tread and have come out on the other side deserving a massive badge of honour as well as a big piece of cake!

These are the Can-do Girls. These women really can. We all know of celebrity female athletes and adventurers who have achieved outstanding feats in sport, and I have already mentioned some of them in my previous posts. This series will focus on Jane Bloggs or Jane Doe who has done extraordinary things.

Today I want to talk about my co-worker, designer Annaleena Piel Linnå. As cycling fans get ready to watch the professionals battle it out on the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix spare a thought for Annaleena who rode the cobbles on her own on her 30-year-old steel touring bike all alone in December!

Luckily for her the weather stayed largely clement, but it still didn't get her out of riding on the various cobbled sectors. 

Starting from central Paris, (as opposed to Compiegne where the masses start their ride) Annaleena set off on Boxing Day last year and headed northwards. She recorded her story with nice photos on her blog. Here's how Annaleena summarised her trip when I spoke to her:


Paris-Roubaix was actually my plan B!

I did Rapha Festive 500 for the first time last year [2014-15] and thought this is so good I’m gonna do it every year, so I was looking for a way to get in 500km over Christmas.

I had wanted to do Land’s End to John O’Groats but couldn’t find any accommodation past Glasgow at that time.

Also the floods came and I thought I’m either gonna die or it would be a really miserable week.

Then while on train journey to Paris with my bike thought, why not Paris-Roubaix? So there I was downloading the official route from last year and doing the planning just two days before I set off!

After spending Christmas Day in Paris and I set off on Day 1 from the centre of the Capital to Compiegne, which was about 112km. Because of my recovery from flu and needing lots of rest I ended up leaving Paris around noon so I didn’t arrive in Compiegne until around 7 o’clock that night. So the last 3 hours was spent on unlit roads with loads of drivers beeping at me through the dark, shouting “Crazy girl, what are you doing on the road?!”

The next day the weather was sunny all day long and the temperature was 14degC, which was so lucky.

There were around 52.7km of pavé but I did about 12 sections of them and I don’t know exactly which ones I did because a lot of them were ridden in pitch black! I’d be riding along, barely able to make out what was coming – then it would go all bumpy and I would realise “Ooh, I’m on the pavé!” The worst one was more than 2km long and it hurt my head so much.

I had wanted to do all of the pavé but many of them were being reworked. I’d get to a few of them and there’d be a dozen old people there, The Friends of Paris Roubaix, with their tools fixing the road!

My tactic throughout was to keep calm and keep going. People had given me tips to go really fast on the cobbles and weigh down my bike. That wasn’t difficult as I had 12kg in the saddle bags!

It would have been nice to stop for a long lunch during the ride but nothing was open. I even had to go to a nursing home to use their toilet, and that was an adventure in itself!

Arriving in Roubaix I felt so jubilant. The ride felt so much better than everyone had told me. My ride didn’t end in Roubaix though as afterwards I had to ride another 18km to Lille, where I was staying and do another 120km to make it 500.

I have lots of great memories from the trip and would absolutely recommend doing it independently. If you are riding over Christmas bring loads of food, because at that time absolutely everything is shut and I ended up riding around starving!

Just get on your bike and do it!

Photos by Annaleena Piel Linnå

Surviving the Cobbles - Final Part

SPOILING THE FLOW

Pressing on through the countryside we passed through a series of more straight forward sections of cobbles. Fortunately, they were not too wet so there was no inherent hazard of riding the stretches - or at least no more than I'd hitherto experienced. 

What was becoming more evident though was the pain from riding cobbles. My arms weren't aching so much, as I had definitely found that taking the cobbles at speed was the way to experience the least amount of juddering - that technique had paid off. Also having gel bartape and foam on my handlebars certainly helped. 

However, I was finding that because of the number of riders on the stretches and strangely enough, a number of naughty drivers who had chosen to take their support cars onto these roads, there was a bit of congestion and I was unable to ride the cobbles as quickly as I wanted. I had to take things down a gear as I found myself at the back of a group of guys who in turn were caught up behind a car or van. 

This low speed meant I was shaken around a lot more, and I also found it more tricky controlling the bike. A few cyclists vented their frustrations on the drivers and angry words were exchanged. Nothing like a cyclist/motorist altercation to remind me of home! 

 

PAIN IN THE PEVELES 

As we did more and more cobbled sections my fingers hurt as they were getting the brunt of the shaking, given that they were only loosely hanging on my handlebars. Then, as if that irritation wasn't enough we got caught in another shower. The guys in my group soldiered on in the rain, whereas I stopped under a tree to put on my jacket, hoping that the rain would stop shortly. It was also a pretext to give my fingers and my bones a bit of respite. Everything in your body shakes so much, including any spare flab on your arms and legs, and your breasts if your bra isn't tight enough! 

Thankfully the rain didn't last long, and the sun came out again. Sadly, the sun was not able to dry off the ground in time for us reaching what I felt to be the worst section of the day - Mons-en-Pévèle. This section was not quite as brutal as the Arenberg section, but it was challenging enough on my nerves. The cobbles were again higgledy piggledy with holes at irregular intervals. Of course the holes were full of water so it was anyone's guess how the bike would land when you went over them. The road also irregularly changed camber so there was the added risk of the bike sliding around in the damp conditions. 

Normally, riders could have ridden on the dirt track verge. However, because this was riddled with pot-holes it became risky using these so we had no choice but to brave this section that was like a mini obstacle course. Added to the mix, was how to get around slower riders, or stay out of the way of a falling rider - of which there were quite a few. I attempted to overtake one man, and failed dismally when, to my misfortune, and to other people's amusement I careered out of control towards the ditch. Although I'd managed to rescue myself from a crash, it was still an embarrassing lesson in how not to overtake people. So I spent the remainder of the ride, learning to sit behind people patiently with my body being bounced to smithereens! 

The 3km stretch of Mons-en-Pévèle, at this stage of the ride was too long for me to take on in one hit. So half way along the road I dismounted to gain my composure and destress before continuing the rest of the section. Were the guys suffering as much as me, or were they just grinning and bearing it? It felt like I was the only person in pain. Some of the Dutch guys riding this section rode side by side and chatted as though they were on a leisurely afternoon club run! Were they actually human?? 

LAZY BONES!

Finally, to enormous relief I came out of the other end unscathed! At the Pont Thibaut cobbles I took time out to take a few pictures. 

An old man who lived at the side of the road came out to watch the riders. "Oh yes, of course Paris Roubaix," he said. It seemed like he hadn't realised it was on. "I rode this about 30 years ago. It was a great ride. Back then, we didn't have the crowds that you have now. The organisers were crying out for entrants. I thought I'd have a go, and it took me 7 hours. I was a rare breed from the region because many of my cycling buddies didn't want to do it. They thought I was mad! I bet people think you must be mad doing it. You don't get many women riding this you know. You're doing really well!" 

I guess he made that last statement because he was thinking I was one of these racers who was really focused, on my drop handlebars, in racing mode. If only he knew about my 2 hours of stoppage time and my extended tea breaks! As I was taking pics he looked at me anxiously and asked, "Are you sure you should be doing that? The cut off must be in about an hour's time." 

"No, they close the finish line checkpoint at around 8.30pm" I replied. "Gosh, they're very generous nowadays aren't they? In my day we had almost 300km to do. We started at around 9am and we had to be finished by 5pm. We hardly had any feed stations. You guys are spoiled! Well, good luck to you young lady." Onwards I continued, thinking what a lazy bones I'd been, only doing 173km and even stopping and taking photos and having tea breaks along the way. 

THAT COMING HOME FEELING! 

The next significant section was the Carrefour de L'Arbre, which was in fact three sections of cobbles in rapid succession, that made up almost 5km of bumps. The last section was very straight and all the crowds could be seen in the distance during the last kilometre. This was the time to look like you were enjoying it, you were fresh and energetic, and in control of your bike. Not! I was all over the shop, tired and bedraggled. And d'you know what? I was past caring. I was on the edge of my limits, and just focused on holding everything together at the lowest common denominator. Appearances were the last thing on my mind! 

For the last set of cobbles in Hem, and the run back in to Roubaix there was a group of guys that I tagged onto. It was just a case of following their wheel, road race style all the way back into Roubaix. Once at the entrance into the Velodrome there were lots of folks cheering us on. 

It felt quite emotional finally realising I'd made it through the 173km that I started at 7 o'clock that morning. I felt like Fabian Cancellara, Tom Boonen and Thor Hushovd all at the same time! It was a great feeling. Even one of the officials from Velo Club de Roubaix who I'd chatted to the previous day recognised me and came up to congratulate me at the finish. What an honour! What a day! 

I'm not really one for souvenirs, but I made a point of picking up my commemorative Paris Roubaix cobblestone, which now sits proudly on the shelf at home. I was just so glad to have survived the cobbles, and in proper "classics" conditions. At the end of the ride me and my bike were a muddy mess. I was glad my hotel was only a few minutes away. Will I come back and do the full 255km? Probably, but give me a few years to recover first!

My Ronde van Vlaanderen by Him Indoors

Just got back from a weekend in Flanders.

Tried to do the sportive but a cold blew up the day before so I had to pull out.

Surprisingly it was still a good trip.

For what it's worth here are my musings on the race.

What is it about the Tour of Flanders?

Even though the name makes it sound like a stage race, it's only a one day race.

People say it has cobbles but there’re nowhere near as many or as rough as Paris-Roubaix. People say it has the "bergs", 18 of them but in reality most of the climbs in the Surrey Hills are longer and higher.
Sure, it has the famous Muur but even that's a walk in the park compared to the likes of Tanhurst Lane at the back of Leith Hill.

What the Tour of Flanders has though is Belgians, Belgians everywhere, mad about the race, mad about their riders and this alone makes the race stand out from everything else at this time of year.

The day before the main race almost 20,000 of them took the course, most doing the 140km version which covered most of those "bergs".

There was a definite non-competitive spirit as the weather was good and the course is not seriously tough.

Some groups blasted up each hill, then waited and regrouped before spinning over to the next one.
Others trundled along at a steady pace happy to mentally tick that box at the top of each climb.
More than a few were on normal situpandbeg street bikes with a basket on the front and I even spotted two families carrying young children in child seats.

More of a festival than a sportive then.

Race day itself came with all the usual trappings, at least in Belgium. Crowds lining the streets, mobs lining the climbs, but what really brought home what the race meant was the Belgian television coverage after the race.

So picture this, a Belgian gets beaten by a half a wheel in a sprint for the line. Two minutes later the coverage shows a close-up of the same rider sitting on the ground up against a crash barrier trying to bury his head in his hands while half a dozen microphones and cameras were stuck in his face. Cut to the studio where his teammate had barely taken his helmet off but he had already been nabbed for a sit-down interview. Hunched over the desk and speaking through a bad case of helmet hair he was already giving his opinions on the race.

I didn’t understand a word he said but his pain was obvious especially when he was asked to review a replay of the sprint. Wincing continuously, he started shouting “turn, turn” and hitting his head off the desk as his teammate’s cadence slowed 20 yards from the line and the winner came past.

You couldn’t make it up, pure drama.

Happy Heart, Weary Bones

Saturday continued

I had survived the first berg - it didn't seem so bad. Would I be able to do the remaining 16 ? A group of French cyclists passed by.
"Attention tu as trois mille metres de pavé." A 3km long berg ?? How would I cope with that ? In fact it wasn't a berg. It was just a flat cobbled section known as Kerkgate. I almost wished it had been berg. It wouldn't have been anywhere as long. Also as all my bones were jolted along and every bit of loose flesh wobbled at speed, I realised that going uphill was easier on the body than riding along a flat or even downhill section. It was alot less jarring.
On the flat I'd been able to hold my own in the group. However, as soon as I hit the cobbled sections I was suddenly going backwards. My pace slowed as I rode gingerly along the bumpy road, in a hope that there would be less impact on my body. Of course because I was tense my limbs felt the shock that bit more, as I was unable to loosen my grip on the handlebars. Everyone around me seem to fly over the cobbles. Even some riders, who were on nothing more than shopping bikes just glided past me over the cobbles ! I really couldn't get the hang of it.

Once the bike hit smooth tarmac I heaved a sigh of relief. Even the 15% climb up the Wolvenberg seemed a much more appealing proposition - simply because it was on a smooth surface ! There then followed a couple of other short and unchallenging bergs, before we reached the first feed station - at Oudenaarde.

I was impressed by the whole organisation and the methodic way in which everything was done. There were 4 channels, each with their own queue. One person to stamp the control card, one person handing exactly 4 biscuits and some malt loaf, one person handing out half a banana, then a bottle of energy and someone else to say have a nice ride ! It was like being on a conveyor belt. At least this made a change to the usual bun fight you get at feed stations.

Once out of the feed station we then left in large groups to hit the road. On the busy roads we had to ride in pairs along the cycle path, though thankfully the police had sectioned off part of a lane of the main road in order to give us more cycling space.
The pace by now had slowed a little as people wanted to save themselves for the various bergs to come. I was glad of this, as I was beginning to get nervous about the next significant difficulty of the day, the Paterberg. My aim was to ride up as many of the bergs as possible - including the real 20% stinkers. Paterberg would certainly be one of them. I could see the Paterberg from a some distance away - actually it wasn't so much the road, as the snake of riders meandering their way up above me !

Very soon I was on this berg, and I saw straight away why it had an infamous reputation. Two riders had fallen down half way up the hill at the steepest 21% section. Unfortunately for them they were right in the middle of the road and were blocking everyone's way. So not only did they suffer the embarrassment of falling down, but also the wrath of other riders who had to struggle their way around them and put themselves at risk of falling over in the narrow carriageway. I got round them by the way I knew best - shouting "get out of the way"!! Fortunately they scrambled out of my way, and I just managed to crawl my way up. It wasn't pretty but the fact that I'd made it up gave me a confidence boost for the future challenges.

Berg after berg followed. A couple of them such as Leberg and Berendries were just on tarmac. But their gradients more than made up for the lack of cobbles.
Half way through I became fed up of being thrown around, notably on the 2,000m section known as Haaghoek, which even had the cheek to jolt me on the downhill !
I was worried that I might have given myself a head injury - a bit like what you'd get after headbanging all night.
Feeling a little weary, I stopped for a breather after this one. There was certainly no shame in doing so. In fact that was definitely the order of the day. Cyclists would attack the bergs at speed, and then at the top would stop and rest or wait for friends. Sometimes there were so many riders at the top of the bergs that it became difficult for anyone to continue riding straight through without having to negotiate the crowd. This was definitely a social ride for many !

When we reached Geraadsbergen we had to ride up a steep hill through the town, before arriving at the place where Him Indoors and I had arrived yesterday. This time the street was packed with spectators willing us on - and this was before even reaching the Muur !
Once out of the town we arrived at the start of this renowned climb, only to come to a grinding halt. There were too many people on the narrow stretch of road, and it was impossible to ride up the berg due to the sheer volume of "traffic".
By coincidence I bumped into a friend of mine from TriSportNews, who was spectating, so I stopped for a chat for a few minutes. By the time we'd finished talking the road had emptied, and this gave me a chance to make a dash for it up the hill before the next throng of cyclists arrived. I had a free run, so managed to ride up the Muur completely unimpeded. It was great. The crowds gave me a special cheer, especially being one of the few women riding the event. I felt really uplifted and gave it my all. I needed to, just so that my front wheel wouldn't lift up on the 20% section ! Surprisingly I felt quite strong even though I'd already ridden 115 km.

Hoorah - I had conquered all the bergs without having to get off and walk ! All that was left was the short Bosberg, and then a quick spin back to the PTI.
And quick it definitely was. The run in was great - I grabbed a wheel and just held onto it all the way back - speeding along at more than 40kph. We arrived back at Ninove alot sooner than I'd expected. The final strait up to the finish gantry was far from a competitive affair. There was none of this machismo to win the bunch sprint to the finish line. No one could be bothered. There was just a cheer from the group that we had made it round. This was definitely not a competitive event.
And with that in mind, I can't say how long it did take me to do the 140km - and even if I knew it would be academic as we were held up a number of times - whether at the feed stations, at busy junctions, to allow a train or boat to pass, or just due to sheer numbers.

Back at the PTI I met up with some fellow cyclists from London Phoenix Cycling club, and had a few beers while swapping tales of our cycling adventures. Him Indoors later joined us and then we returned to Aalst for a celebratory dinner. My bones were weary, but I was happy !

http://www.rvv.be/2007/eng/deronde/index.html

http://www.trisportnews.com/

http://www.londonphoenix.co.uk/

Flandrien hors d'oeuvre !!

Saturday

I woke up bright and fresh, ready to take on the main challenge of the day. However, my heart sank when Him Indoors announced that he wouldn't be riding. He felt too ill and his cold had gotten into his chest. Wise decision, but it was still disappointing, especially given that we had decided to do this back in January, and he had actually done the training for this. So I was going to ride for the both of us, and make sure I claimed all the goodies/memorabilia there for him so as not to lose out too much.

Breakfast was a fairly busy affair. Most of the guests at the hotel were cyclists - and not just amateurs. The newly formed Tinkoff Credit Systems team (featuring Tyler Hamilton) was there. Their riders were up at the crack of dawn just to do their training ride. Speaking to the team manager the previous day, he commented on how crazy it was for so many of us to turn out for the cyclosportive. "How can 15,000 people get to ride through those narrow bergs ?? Incredible !"

I'd originally planned to leave the hotel at 6.30am -ish, but ended up having to wait until after sun-rise as I didn't have any lights for the 12km ride down to Ninove. Once at the PTI, the event HQ, I was met with a lively atmosphere, including music and commentary. There were various exhibition stands selling anything from sportswear to bikes to sports fuel. Everyone had come out on show, it seemed. Lots of riders were actually signing up that morning to do the race. Because the weather forecast was looking good (in contrast to last year) many people had made a last minute decision to do the cyclosportive.
This swelled the number of participants to around 18,000. But nevertheless the organisation still seemed to roll on smoothly.

After alot of faffing around on my part, I finally made a move to the start line just before 9am. I'd been running around trying to get my control card stamped before leaving the event, until I discovered that this wasn't necessary. There is no designated start time. Some start as early as 7am - others as late as 10am. Unlike other events that I do, this is not a timed event. The challenge is to get through all the bergs.

The group I was with sped through the streets of Ninove, passers-by looking on, admiring our courage (or lunacy) at taking on the challenge. Police escorts stopped the traffic as they waved us through junctions and roundabouts. I was the only woman in my group, and was an object of curiosity to the other riders. They were effectively road racing along at around 40kph and I was still mixing it with them ! There were jerseys from various European countries - France, Spain, England, Holland, and of course Belgium.

Very quickly we were out of Ninove and into the Flanders countryside - the road twisted and dipped a few times, then climbed only very gently. Essentially it was a fast flat ride. I made the most of the tow I was getting from the group, as I needed to save my energy for more important matters later.

In fact important matters began earlier than I'd realised ! After 30km, the road narrowed and became very twisty. We then did a sharp right hand turn and suddenly we were on the Molenberg. Not having been able to anticipate this, many people were caught out in the wrong gear, and needed to dismount. Also I realised that being in a group right up to the start of the berg brings the inconvenience of being caught in very close to other riders, which was a bit unnerving as some of them wobbled alot while climbing the cobbles. One guy who had to dismount suddenly fell into me - luckily I managed to stay on my bike. Although Molenberg was not the most difficult berg, I still found it a challenge simply because it was the first cobbled section, and a bit of a shock after having spent the last hour speeding along smooth roads. And if I thought this was hard, there was more to come later.......

In the Land of Beer, Merckx and Cobbles !!

Thursday :

So the train pulled in at Brussels, and shortly afterwards we were on a local train to Haaltert, near Aalst. Once we were off the train we just needed a few minutes to remove our bikes from the bags, assemble them and start the short trundle over to the Ibis Hotel, Aalst. We couldn't have asked for a more seamless journey !

Friday :

Him Indoors wasn't feeling too good, and the original plan had been for him to get lots of rest ahead of the big day. However, the weather was so lovely under the bright sunshine, and it seemed a shame to spend all day in the hotel room. So we decided to do a "short" ride to Geraadsbergen, and recce the last 2 bergs - the Bosberg, and the infamous Muur.

Riding through the Flanders plains seemed so effortless. There were special cycle paths for us to ride in, and specific cycle lanes at junctions with traffic lights for cycles - not just a cursory affair with cars parked along it, like you get in London. Furthermore, the terrain was pan flat - which made it hard for me to believe that we really were going to be riding up 2 climbs, never mind 18 ! In fact it was too flat - at moments it was like staring into miles and miles of emptiness. This was the epitome of bland. Surely someone could have stuck just one hill in there to spice the view up a little !

Then we arrived in Geraadsbergen. Famous last words - the road gradually began to elevate, as the cobbles became more and more consistent. There was also a growing buzz in the air as we reached the main square. Lots of bicycle bunting, music, and cyclists hanging around in anticipation of something eventful. Some pro cyclists from the Liquigas Team even rode by, fitting in their last minute preparations.

Once in the main square we didn't need to look hard to find the Muur. Lots of signs showed which way to go, and many cyclists were going that way. I began to feel a sense of nervousness. I remembered the words of a local man we chatted to at the hotel about the Ronde van Vlaanderen. "You won't get up the Muur - or at least not the first time you try it. Maybe the second or third time." I could feel the ground getting steeper and bumpier as I prepared myself for a painful moment. I ground away in my lowest 32 x 27 gearing, as I rounded the corner and the gradient rose to 20%. Passers-by cheered me on as I heaved and panted, determined to give it my best shot. Thankfully the road levelled off, and I was able to take a breather before tackling the final 13% ramp. Being able to see the Chapel, which marked the end, and the encouragement from drinkers at the nearby pub, gave me the strength to go for it. I made it up the Muur on my first attempt. Wow !!

I was so pleased I'd done it. This had emboldened me and given me confidence. I even did it again. This time with a harder gear. Recce-ing the hardest part of the ride certainly made me feel excited about doing the cyclosportive and all the other bergs. I was actually looking forward to the next day !

After hanging back to chat with other cyclists, and taking photos etc we then headed homewards via Bosberg (piece of cake) and Ninove (the start town) where we stopped to carbo-load with a plate of spaghetti. Our "short" bike ride ended up being a long day. We did 60km and alot of meandering around, what with taking phots, riding the Muur a few times, and trying to find a cash machine that actually worked (!!).

When we returned to Aalst we wound things down in preparation for the big day to come. Him Indoors was beginning to feel that bit worse, and realised he might have overdone things. We had an early night.

http://www.rvv.be/2007/eng/deronde/index.html