Tarmac Reacquaintance

I was really enjoying yesterday's ride. All of the hard training for the week had been done, so Ryan and I were just taking it easy, spinning out to Ivan's for a coffee. I was only two miles from home, descending to Colliton Cross when I came to grief. There was a van parked on the edge of the road, so as I have done countless times, I checked behind and moved in to the middle of the road to pass the van, leaving a gap of around one metre.

The next thing I knew there was a massive impact and I went flying, landing in the road. The driver had opened his door at the exact moment I was passing, this happens more often in cities and is commonly known as 'dooring a cyclist'. Fortunately the driver was a genuine guy, apologising straight away and calling an ambulance. The worst thing that can happen in this situation is a 'hit and run' incident. Initially I feared the worst, I had managed to crawl to the side of the road, but this was my first crash that I didn't get up from.

Within a few minutes a trained first aider had stopped, soon followed by a doctor and even a man who works for mountain rescue. They did a great job of looking after me until the ambulance came, which took forty five minutes. After my assessment from the paramedics, I went to hospital for an X-ray, praying that nothing was broken. Most of the force had been taking by my left thigh, but I was told by the paramedics that the femur is a very hard bone to break! I was more concerned about my forearm, but I was incredibly relieved when the X-ray came back all clear. I guess I have my genetics (and eating petit filous yoghurts) to thank.

I am hoping to be back on the bike for the National Hill Climb in 10 days, but the truth is I have no idea how long the recovery is going to take. If there's a message to be taken away here, it is please double check your mirrors and blind spot before opening a door into open traffic. It really could save a life. Interestingly, in the Netherlands, drivers are taught to open their door with their opposite arm, so they automatically look over their shoulder. I shall try and get in to this habit in the future.

Now for the other sad part. I may have survived, but the bike didn't. The top tube has snapped and there is a crack in the fork. If anyone out there has a bike I could possibly borrow for the National Hill Climb, please let me know. I'll keep you updated and hopefully there will be a blog from the National. Over and out.

Belmont and Jennycliff

Seven thirty a.m. at Cullompton services. Why on earth is Mcdonalds that busy? Mainly it's a mix of people at the tail end of a long night out (we've all been there) and workmen getting their breakfast mcmuffin. Josh Coyne was kind enough to offer me a lift up to Bristol with his coach, Nigel, both of which made fine company for the journey, which was passed by talking about watts, wind and weight, the equivalent of cycling small talk.

In the hour before the race, I experienced a mental clarity that made the whole event especially enjoyable. Headphones on, familiar warm up routine, getting in the zone. I like to spin my legs at a high cadence (100 rpm) during the intense parts of my warm up, so I choose songs that have a tempo of around 100 bpm, this way I just pedal to the beat. 'Someday' by The Strokes did the job perfectly. Considering I didn't know the climb well, I was happy with my ride. Two minutes and forty six seconds was my time up Belmont and I knew this was nine seconds quicker than the course record, but was it enough for the win? No. Sam Lindsay had gone one second faster. Hey ho, I thought, I just need to win tomorrow.

I'll keep it brief about Sunday. The weather was grim. The hill was too short for my liking. I had bad legs. I didn't win. Not one to write home about, I did however come second, but couldn't get near the time of Josh, who made mince meat of the Jennycliff course, taking four seconds off the course record. He was simply the best rider on the day. People often ask me 'are you a better climber than so and so?' and expect a one word answer. The reality is, at a high level, there are so many small variables that mean you really never know. For example, I was ten seconds quicker than Josh on Saturday, yet he was five seconds quicker than me on Sunday.

This weekend I realised how much I like winning and yet I didn't win either of the hill climbs I raced. When I have won races, obviously the feeling is great, but you never fully appreciate it until you look back on it, hence the cliche so often used in post race interviews - 'It hasn't sunk in yet'. If only it was the same when losing - 'I'm not that annoyed, but I'm sure the frustration will sink in over the next few months', said no one ever. Second place is never a nice place to finish when you're chasing a win and after this happened to me on two consecutive days, I was in a fairly bad mood for the next few hours, but all the while previous victories are still 'sinking in' and began to override any negativity.

Thanks to the University of Bristol CC and Plymouth Corinthians CC for putting on the events.

Peak Hill Climb

For the fourth time in as many years, I found myself sitting in the familiar, slightly dingy setting of Jack's Bar in Sidmouth, which always feels somewhat strange at 9 a.m. The Peak Hill Climb is one of the most memorable events of the cycling calendar for me, mainly because it's the steepest climb I race up all year. It's the sort of climb where you feel like your head is going to explode, or for the data nerds out there - eight watts per kilogram in a 36x28 gear will leave you grinding. The sign at the bottom says twenty percent, but this is clearly an inaccurate approximation. Send the bloke from Highways England up there on a bicycle, then ask him how steep it is.

The climb starts steadily and then gets gradually steeper before easing off in the final two hundred metres. The nature of the climb meant that I threw caution to the wind, going hard from the gun, hoping to carry my momentum half way up the climb, which worked and I held on until the finish clocking five minutes and nine seconds. I had hoped to dip under five minutes, but this was a tall order as only one man has done this in the history of the event. James Dobbin's ride, back in 2006 earned him the British hill climb title. Upon return to HQ I caught up with fellow riders, chatting about how 'that steep section by the house is bloody horrible' etc. When the results came through I was happy to see my name at the top of the list, along with my mates Ryan and Jack taking second and fourth respectively.

Ryan and I blew part of the prize money at a cafe on the way home, but didn't get through the magnum of Champagne, which will be kept until this evening at least. Thanks to Ron from Sid Valley for organising the event, all of the marshals, Team PB Performance and my family for coming out to support.

Porlock Toll Hill Climb

Without doubt the most prestigious hill climb in the South West calendar, the Porlock Hill Climb always lures talent from all corners of the country - all of whom are within a shot of the £350 cash prize, not a bad reward for fourteen minutes of work. However, it is not just the economic appeal that makes this event so special. This is an event that my own mother gets excited about and it's not because she's interested in gazing at sub five kilogram bikes. The appeal of Porlock depends on who you are...

The Cyclist:

• Closed roads, six and a half kilometres of relentless climbing, averaging nearly six percent. Not only is this climb long and consistent enough to imagine you're on Alpe d'Huez in the tour, there's also two hairpins and a start ramp to make that dream a reality.
• Witness the best in the United Kingdom ride up a hill very quickly. We're talking professional riders, up and coming talents and even the current senior british champion, Dan Evans. Also expect a selection of custom built bikes, with the added consideration of aerodynamics due to the steady gradient. 
• Other nice touches include a computer screen back at HQ which automatically puts the times in order, a personalised race number to cherish and of course, a plentiful supply of coffee and cake after the race.  

The Tourist:

• Views that are to die for. Exmoor often plays second fiddle to Dartmoor on the tourist map, but is every bit as spectacular. From the top of the climb it appears as if you can reach out and touch the Welsh coastline. 
• Postcard perfect villages. The village of Porlock itself is a very pleasant place to be, but travel a few miles in any direction (apart from towards Minehead) and you'll soon be greeted by a tranquil river running under a stone bridge, traditional cottages and maybe even a Exmoor pony...
• An extensive list of unique attractions including Dunster Castle, Tarr Steps and many more, why not stop on your way home?  

Regarding my race, I can think of no other way to describe it except undeniably average. I remember thinking before, If I rode up at 400 watts I would be satisfied, but if I was on a mad flyer, maybe that number would creep up towards 420. I could make excuses, but that would be a whole different article. The fact is it didn't go quite as well as I'd hoped, but I did manage 403 watts. I stopped the clock in fifteen minutes and four seconds, which put me in fifth place, twenty eight seconds behind the winner Charlie Meredith, well done that man. Perhaps the biggest indication of the quality of the field was seeing the British champion finish third, fourteen seconds ahead of me, but fourteen seconds behind the winning time.

After the chatting and awards, I was rather keen to get home to watch the end of the world championships road race, but my parents fancied hanging around the beautiful area and going for a cream tea. The seemingly perfect hill climb had developed a problem. How I wished that we were in an industrial estate on the edge of Birmingham. The drive takes about an hour and twenty minutes, but when I remembered that the wind was north-westerly, I made the decision to jump on my bike and got home in 2 hours, just in time to watch Valverde triumph in Innsbruck. I heard somewhere that he entered the Porlock hill climb, but didn't get selected, so had to go to the worlds instead. 

Thanks as always to the organisers, marshals, caterers, event sponsors (https://www.tanks-direct.co.uk/), parents and Team PB Performance. 

If you would like a list of my excuses, please drop me a message or leave a comment below.