September Update!

An action packed blur comes to mind when trying to recall recent happenings. When nearing the end of the season, a rider must work out when they want to attain a final 'peak' in form before declining to the off season. However, sometimes form can sneak up on you, as I found out during my final races in Italy. I felt no different going in, but all of a sudden something clicked. When previously I fell slightly short of the mark, I could now cut the mustard, consequently netting three top twenties in as many races.

Sprinting to 18th at Giro del Valdarno. Emotions were a mix of joy and relief.

Crossing the Swiss Border after climbing from
Aosta up the Grand St Bernad - 32km at 6%.

Perhaps my morale was fuelled by planning my end of season trip home - a touring trip back to the UK, taking in 700 miles over 5 days. Compared to racing, this would be a stress free experience, purely focusing on enjoying the bike. To escape from the regimented life of being a full time cyclist and have no agenda apart from turning the pedals felt liberating, but of course there was some sadness leaving my team mates and 'Casa Zappi'.

On the first day I passed through the Valle d'Aosta - the playground of my toughest race of the year. Some unpleasant memories were unearthed, but I mostly felt pride from my own, and my team mates performances. I stopped atop the Grand St Bernard pass, just before the Swiss border for my last decent coffee, before enjoying the fast, twisting descent.

Home for the night in Burgundy

My competitive spirit still remained, so one of my goals for the trip was to ride the furthest I ever had in a day. To add to the fun, I made this the last day and pre booked my ferry. A small problem I came across is the fact that rural France is an agricultural desert on Sundays, which meant I had to plan carefully to avoid the dreaded 'bonk'. I managed to find a kebab shop open until 1am, so I had my final refuel, charged my Garmin and they even put on English TV for me. After around 350km It was 2am and the fatigue was catching up with me, so I pulled over for a forty minute nap in a ditch before continuing on my way. The last hours were a mental battle more than anything. Thick fog had descended, so much so that my super bright light couldn't penetrate more than ten metres. Going fast was out of the question (not that I could've injected much speed at this point), I just had to focus on rolling along. Signs of life started to emerge as I neared the port, but I couldn't start to enjoy myself until the final two kilometres. Eventually, after 16 hours and 415km of riding, I made it to Caen.

One of many beautiful Swiss views.

I left myself five days at home before going to Cardiff University to study Engineering. The first couple of days were spent recovering, before attempting to try and get my head around moving in. I've now been in Cardiff for less than a week, but it's been incredible and although it rains a lot of the time, there is something I've missed about riding in the UK - the meandering country lanes, climbs that are stupidly steep and of course, being able to order beans on toast at the cafe.

In terms of upcoming racing, I'll be doing some hill climbs, mainly just for fun while I'm starting my course, before building towards making next season the best yet.

August Update

Are we already nearing the end of August? The month began with an easy week at home after Giro Valle d’Aosta, which was much needed after the physical and mental fatigue (see last blog). Shortly after I headed back overseas, but this time with my family in our VW campervan, stopping off along at various points along the way to Italy, exploring new areas in training.

Since I’ve been back the usual busy racing schedule has resumed. I’m at the point now where I’m used to this level of racing so I’m more relaxed, which has made it more enjoyable and I’ve become more consistent. A top result is still eluding me, but I have a few more more races left and regardless of results, I feel I’ve developed significantly as a rider over the past six months.

After my last race of the year, I’ve planned a cycle tour back to the UK from our team house near Milan. The plan is to ride the 800 miles over 6 days with plenty of stops along the way. While this may sound very physically demanding (which it is in some ways), I’m looking forward to riding at my own pace discovering new places. Whereas when racing, I have to be focused and riding to the extent of my abilities, so a lot of the landscape is lost from being in the racing bubble. A few days after I return home, I’m going to Cardiff University to study engineering, while continuing my racing as much as possible. This very much feels like the right step for me because being a full time cyclist this year I have discovered that I need something other than cycling to focus on, to avoid overthinking and to truly appreciate the bike.

Thanks as always to my parents, the team and the Lewis Balyckyi trust fund for keeping me on the road.

Pre boarding at Dover in the camper.

At sign on before Briga Novarese, pockets packed for the 160km to come.

July update

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was sitting on a cliff in Norfolk, writing last month’s blog, a couple of days before the National Championships road race. However a lot has happened since then and Nationals seems the best place to start. After around 70km of racing, I managed to get in a large breakaway group including Ian Stannard and Ben Swift from Team Ineos. I remember thinking that it was too good to be true, so to enjoy it as much as possible, despite the effort. This was my first race against WorldTour riders, so to be rolling through with childhood heroes felt pretty cool. We had a gap of around one minute when Stannard attacked solo, going for glory, so Swift stopped working and the group lost momentum. I found it slightly odd that Swift and Stannard were ‘team mates’ at this point in the race, yet fierce competitors in the final. When we were eventually caught,  I didn’t have many matches left, so I rode to the finish in the peloton, content with my bid for glory, but frustrated that I hadn’t cashed in.

After Nationals my focus turned purely to the Giro Valle d’Aosta - a six day stage race in the Alps, dubbed the hardest under 23 race of them all. This involved continuous training blocks, doing efforts day after day, but upon reflection , no amount of training at home could compare to the brutality of the race. This was my first experience of a stage race at this level and all I can say is it was the toughest race I’ve ever done. I think this is because in a one day race, if you feel terrible, you can cut your losses and accept you can’t get a result, whereas in a stage race, if you feel awful on one day, you have to live to fight another day, whether it’s to try and get a result yourself, or to help a team mate. There were several points along the way where I didn’t think I would finish, but after a small resurgence on the final day, I managed to get in a breakaway in the middle of the stage and hauled myself up the 30km final climb to finish 19th in the young riders classification
and my team mate Calum also cracked a top 20 overall on GC.

In August, I’ve got another busy month of racing with the team and hopefully the form to really push for results. Thanks again to everyone who supports me and I’ll try to post race updates on Facebook/Instagram/Strava. I guess that’s it until next time,

Ciao

June update

I’m currently sitting in scorching thirty degree heat on the north Norfolk coast, preparing for the National road race championships on Sunday. The time trial has already passed, which wasn’t the best day for me, but it was great to see my team mate Charlie Quarterman take the national under twenty three title, which was thoroughly deserved. In the road race, I will be facing the likes of Mark Cavendish and other WorldTour opposition, which will be a first for me, so as usual, it’s a mixture of excitement and nerves. Many athletes use the words ‘nervous’ and ‘excited’ interchangeably, particularly when under media presence, to make themselves appear more confident, but I don’t have to worry about that yet.

In other news, perhaps more important news, I’ve been selected to ride the Giro Valle d’Aosta. This is a six day stage race in the alps featuring more mountains than you can keep count of. This is one of the biggest under twenty three races in the world, so will be incredibly tough. The race takes place between the 16th and 21st July and you’ll be able to keep updated on our news with Flavio’s unique live videos on Facebook. This is a massive opportunity for me, so I’m doing everything I can to make sure I arrive with the best legs possible. 

I’ve managed to spend some time at home during June, competing in a few local races, where I could honestly say I was excited instead of nervous. The difference in the level of racing between the UK and Italy is huge, so it’s been refreshing to be racing to win races, rather than just to survive. It’s strange what you start to miss when you spend five months in Europe. Family and friends are a given, but I can’t tell you how good it was to have my first roast dinner since Christmas. 

In August I’ll be back out living in Italy, this time near Milan, following a similar racing structure, but I like to think I’m much more prepared now, so I can really start to get competitive in the Italian nationals and UCI’s. I haven’t had time to catch up with everyone since I’ve been home, so if any of my friends would like to visit in the summer, It would be great to see you. Living in the company of twelve other cyclists can take its toll. For instance, we’ve developed many colloquialisms, using cycling terms to describe everyday life, so it’s good to see normal people every once in a while to remember what the world is like outside of our bubble.

Thanks again to all who are supporting me to make it possible. 

Keep you updated,

Ciao.

May update

The season is in full swing, so we’ve been busy hopping around Italy from race to race every weekend, gradually gaining experience, knowledge and form (hopefully!). To put it simply, the racing here is bloody hard. A typical Italian race is hosted in a picturesque hilltop town, which the race passes through every lap at the summit of the climb. This repeats maybe a dozen times, which causes an attritional nature of racing, with only fifty or so riders finishing from one hundred and eighty starters. As my skills have developed, I’ve managed to finish these races, squeezing in to the top 40 in the second day of Due Giorni Marchigiana last weekend. The next step is to be fighting for the top positions, which is my goal for the second half of the season.

Yesterday, we were at a flat race, near Milan. This was my first time attempting a lead out against the Italian teams, for our sprinter, Karl. The race averaged forty seven kilometres per hour, so when we were fighting for position in the final fifteen kilometres, the pace was over fifty. Before this year, being super keen was enough to get to the front, but everyone here is one hundred percent committed, so aggression is needed, which I have developed more of. This means knocking handlebars, shouting and not letting anyone push you around. We laughed in the car on the way home when Karl recounted me shouting at a rider who gave me a large shove at three kilometres to go. I was so zoned in I can’t remember what I said, but the beauty is you can shout in English and they won’t understand a word. We only mustered a team of three due to injuries and the giro team being at altitude, so we didn’t have the cumulative horsepower of the other teams, but I managed to drop Karl off in to the top 10 wheels with one kilometre to go. Unfortunately he was swamped at a roundabout so only managed a top 30, but it was a good to get another race in the legs. We have another double race weekend coming up, then shortly after I’m back in the UK for a few weeks.

Thanks again to my Parents, the Lewis Balyckyi Trust Fund and Mr Zappi himself for all of their help.

Fatigue

As mentioned in a previous post, I usually write my blogs on rest days, where I can recover and mindfully reflect on past events. However for the last week or so, we’ve been partaking in a big training block to prepare for the Giro, so this blog comes from the perspective of a fatigued mind (and body) in the present.

Fatigue can take many forms, but my favourite is the feeling of slight delirium, which could be compared to a couple of glasses of wine. Legs become numb and the body is so entirely invested in recovering that you have little time to think of anything else. Sometimes watching T.V is too much effort, which is when music triumphs, nothing upbeat though, perhaps some relaxed Pink Floyd. For this feeling I need to be a seriously cooked unit, but it wears off as recovery progresses and by the next morning I’ve got The Strokes on, getting mentally ready for the next days training.

Going through the hard times together also makes us stronger as a team. I was ill for the first 4 days of the block (others have been too) so we can help each other through when someone is having a bad day. Meanwhile Flavio the enabler is always watching, pondering and planning our next session. I think we all have a love-hate relationship with him. He pushes you to the limit but only because he wants the best and there are days when it’s too much for some riders, myself included.

As for my condition, I’m not quite where I want to be but plans are being put in place to step up to be fighting at this extremely high level and I don’t feel like I’m that far away. A special mention has to go to my family for coming out to visit me a couple of weeks ago and topping up morale in the process. Thanks again to the Lewis Balyckyi trust fund for making this opportunity possible. Until next time, ciao.

Spain => Italy

Residing in Calpe seems a distant memory now, although we’ve only spent a week on Italian soil. Forty kilometres north of San Marino, sits the seaside town of Cervia, which is our base for the next few months. The community is slowly invigorating in conjunction with the tourist flux, sunlight is claiming more of each day, and the weather is starting to become ‘hot’, at least by English standards. Living is noticeably less luxurious here, mostly due to our densely populated apartment, but I have now adapted and procedures which seemed strange now feel like the norm. We’re also attending Italian lessons every week, so before you know I’ll be able to obtain an Italian passport.

During our time in Spain, we competed in many of the local races, to hone our skills and test our legs before the internationals over here. These generally went well and I managed two top tens in my first three outings. I flew home for a few days in February to catch up with friends and let off some steam and returned with my parents to give them a brief guided tour of the Costa Blanca. We weren’t planning to race the following Sunday, but my parents were able to take me. Fortunately the three of us and and my bicycle fitted together like an unorthodox jigsaw inside a Fiat panda.

I’m very fond of these smaller Spanish races. They seems to encompass what bike racing is all about - bringing people together, creating a spectacle and challenging the riders. This weekend was no different. The race was run out of the local cafe and despite seeing very few signs of life on arrival, it seemed that the town’s entire population had come out of hibernation to watch the race. The start was fairly relaxed, but I stayed alert to watch any potential moves. In the middle section of the race, there was a timed segment, where the fastest rider would receive a joint of ham as a prize. This interested me greatly. I went fairly hard and after we finished sprinting for the ham, there were only ten of us left, so we decided to push on down the smooth, flowing descent and soon had a minute over the peloton. The gap reduced to 30 seconds and the catch looked likely but we started working again and ended up with a gap of two minutes before the final climb - five kilometres at around 7 percent. I attacked multiple times, but at one kilometre to go I finally broke free and took the win by eighteen seconds.

The delight of winning a bike race is more than just the initial rush. I was struggling to sum it up until I came across  a quote in a book last week. ‘The past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.’ The victory was a great boost for morale, but the real challenges lie in the Italian races, where the level is as good as it gets. I will have to be patient, but hopefully I can adapt and grow as a rider and some big results will follow. Thanks to everyone who is supporting me, as always. Until next time, ciao.

Here Comes The Sun

It's hard not to be inspired by Flavio Zappi. The man oozes enthusiasm, passion and patriotism to the extent that your legs can turn from fatigued to fresh, when ordinarily you'd grovel home. An anecdote of his endeavours in the Giro d'Italia or days spent in a breakaway with the great Francesco Moser is usually enough to enable a few extra coulombs of mental charge before a heavy training day.

Calpe has been my home now for five weeks and will be for another four, building up to a busy racing calendar in Italy over the summer months, including the Under twenty-three Giro d'Italia, where we shall be racing the crème de la crème. Geographically, we couldn't be in a better location - smooth roads, consistent weather and beautiful scenery. This way, we can focus purely on uninterrupted training.

Lifestyle is a word Flavio uses frequently. To achieve success, one must look after oneself all day, not just when in the saddle. Modern life provides far too many distractions that we simply don't need. You may be surprised to hear that we don't use our phones after nine-thirty in the evening and aren't allowed them until after breakfast, which is preceded by a thirty minute walk, to clear the mind and mentally prepare for the day. This is all part of the list of pernickety peculiarities that we partake in to achieve optimum health. Our way of life is refreshing for me and being a full time cyclist has been the perfect motive to prioritise well being.

However much I love cycling, there is always a limit to how much I can endure without training becoming monotonous. This often happens during the difficult days, such as the fifth day of an intensive block when the last thing you want to do is climb aboard a bicycle for another five hours. I prepare for these days by switching off from cycling completely, playing my guitar or reading, then by the time the morning beckons my passion has been somewhat renewed and the pedals turn ever so slightly more smoothly.

I suppose the most straightforward way to describe life here would be professional cycling work experience. Of course, we all want to be 'pro', but no one witnesses the years of dedication when watching on T.V. I'm far from the answer, but over this year I'll be able to understand which pieces of the puzzle I possess and whether cycling would be an enjoyable, fulfilling career.

I mull over these thoughts on rest days, when my cognitive function returns to normal, as opposed to resorting to troglodyte like instincts, thinking solely of food, water and sleep. I generally come to the conclusion of 'I'm going to give this my very best shot' and replay cliches such as 'Nothing good comes easy' before questioning why I like to push myself and deduce that 'I just do'. Perhaps the path to professionalism lies in not philosophizing, but following a preconceived idea without question?

Thank you to the Lewis Balyckyi trust fund, Flavio Zappi, all of the team sponsors and my parents for providing me with this opportunity.