On tour with Alex!

I was fending for myself well at home, although the docs said I didn’t need one I would have my arm in a sling when I went out the house as people seemed to be more careful around it, I wasn’t ready for a firm handshake just yet.  14 tablets a day of antibiotics for the next 6 weeks was my routine but I managed to start getting out on the bike, generally I’d ride to my favourite café, the Blue Egg and back.  This was a flat 2 hour round trip, some days I’d feel ok, others I’d feel truly terrible and it was tough on my head, I’m an all or nothing kind of guy and whilst I knew this was better than doing nothing if it wasn’t for the blue egg as a target to get to I’m not sure I would’ve done much at all, if anything until I was off the antibiotics as they were taking their toll on my system, and my head.

I had the antibiotics lined out on my kitchen worktop as a kind of countdown until I was back into hospital to have the plate out.  Basically the infection, which was called Stafflus Cocchus is not dissimilar to the dreaded MRSA (I didn’t know until after, whilst I was worrying about my cycling season the people around me were worried about me losing my arm, I had never considered it.), because the infection was located on the metal plate the antibiotics couldn’t kill it off completely as the plate didn’t have a blood supply, but the plate couldn’t come out until the bone was healed so it was simply a waiting game, 2 long months in total

Picking up the infection was an interesting conversation topic, who was at fault? Some were quick to slate the NHS, others who knew what they were talking about said these things happen and simply put it down to bad luck, there was even a theory that it came from the filthy roads that day in Belgium, whichever way you look at it though it was basically bad luck, I am treated extremely well in The Royal London hospital and with my sporting career being unheard of in usual Haemophiliac lifestyles I do receive very good care, Dr Dan Hart was testament to this being on hand at an unheard of hour in the morning to guide me through what I should do, I don’t blame anyone for the infection at all, I am very grateful to have the NHS where it is.

The plate came out without a hitch and I was home in a couple of days, stitches were removed and I had a very sore looking elbow, a 4 inch scar that is very pink from being opened up 4 times.  One last week of antibiotics and I was ready to take on pro cycling again, final attempt to scrape myself into the Olympic team, I knew I was on the back foot but Rod Ellingworth had informed me that I hadn’t been written off, game on.

I figured I’d leave the bike for the rest of the week before figuring out what I could handle turbo training wise, I wasn’t in plaster cast and was encouraged to get the elbow moving, the theory was that with a plate in means that although the bone hasn’t rejoined, the joint is technically fixed.. The one action however I was informed not to attempt was extending my elbow with pressure, i.e. a press up action, also the action of holding myself up on the handlebars, turbo was going to be difficult.

A couple of days ticked past and I wasn’t myself, I put it down to the medication I’d been under for the surgery, I’d go through patches of feeling fine then within an hour I’d be useless, drowsy and nauseous, menial tasks would knock me out for the rest of the day and the swelling in my arm was substantial and getting worse.  It was a Thursday afternoon I got really bad, I figured I was too unwell to cook for myself or even drive but my stubborn nature didn’t want to admit there were more serious issues with my health.  I rung mum to come pick me up so I could eat at my parents, Mum took one look at me, felt my scorching forehead and knew something was up, it was pretty easy for us to work out then that coupled with the swelling in my arm I likely had some form of an infection, I was whisked back to Broomfield in an ambulance where they ran tests and x-rays as well as seeing the first of the gunk that was oozing out of my arm and then after 4 hours they decided that because I was treated in London in the first place I should go back there by my own means, I couldn’t even take any of the results with me, nor would they tell me! I was deeply upset at this treatment as I’ve always stood by the NHS and whilst I still do this was disappointing. I did however feel safer in the hands of the doctors at the Royal London so every cloud does have a silver lining.

If you don’t have a strong stomach its probably best to skip this next paragraph, the only saving grace for me is that I couldn’t see much of what was going on as the infected area was on the underside of my elbow, unfortunately this wasn’t the case for my Dad.   The evening started with undressing the wound, you know its bad when the nurses in A&E wince at the sight of your elbow!  The night doctor, a huge athletic bald guy that looked more like he should be on a basketball court, not in scrubs treated me! He clearly knew what he was doing and was gentle but forceful, I still maintain that throughout this whole ordeal none of it was really that painful, just at times extremely unpleasant.  It was all hands in as dad would support my elbow, I’d stay completely still and try to relax whilst the doc was squeezing all sorts of gunk out through my stitches, a mixture of yellow infection and both congealed and uncongealed blood was coming out in substantial quantities.  I felt more sorry for dad though, he looked how I felt when I saw that fateful x-ray, pale and queasy but he was strong.  I distinctly remember the doc saying I could have some strong painkillers after this ordeal, I laughed saying I could really do with them at the start.  The most unpleasant experience of the whole thing though was the swab, a stitch was cut out and the doc put a swab in far enough so it felt like it was touching the bone it wasn’t painful, just a horrid horrid feeling, nails been run down a chalkboard located inside you kind of horrid! This was to be sent off to the lab to determine what sort of infection I had, they had a good idea though because of my symptoms and I was put on a lot of antibiotics straight away.

I was in for surgery the following morning, a washout they called it which is basically what it says on the tin, I woke feeling like my elbow had been violated and graciously accepted strong painkillers, I was having 2 x200ml syringes of antibiotics 4 times daily for 10days whilst I was hospital, one of them would burn the veins as it went in so my canular kept having to be moved, the other would leave a metal taste in my mouth.  I had another washout 3 days later as the swelling wasn’t going down, I came out with a bottle attached to me via a tube that ran the length of my 4 inch scar to collect any excess, the tube being pulled out again was seriously unpleasant. 2 days after this washout the swelling died down in a day, things were looking up and my right arm was tiny!

Minutes would feel like hours, I would amuse myself playing games on my Ipad, reading and talking to friends and family on the phone.  Lois would visit daily after work, along with mum and dad most days and a visit from all my mates, some of which travelled down from Bristol, I was extremely grateful and daily consumed what felt like my weight in grapes, the stereotype was wearing thin (Colin!) but I didn’t complain, I loved the company.  Betti and Tony would be in most days as well as they were working in London, bringing me magazines, gifts and stories from the outside world.  By chance one of my ward mates had watched me race the London Nocturne in 2011, small world! I was released a fortnight later, in total I’d done 3 weeks in hospital, I felt fat but was light, I figured I’d lost a lot of muscle!

An agonising wait ensued in Broomfield hospital, Chelmsford for the X-ray results to come in, I was confident it was just a bad knock, I’d rung my school friend Tareq who is almost qualified as a doctor and painted a very rosy picture of my symptoms, some movement and little pain thus we (I) had decided I was more than likely fine, though in reality deep down I think I knew I’d done some serious damage, the mind over matter theory doesn’t work with broken bones!  Finally a picture popped up on a screen followed by a fairly nonchalant if slightly ‘yep you broke that very well’ from a doc clearly having a dull evening, little did he know this news had bought my season and run into good form crashing down, I was pale, felt physically sick and light headed as I saw this picture of my elbow in 3 completely separate pieces.  Lois grabbed me a chair along with a few glasses of water, she was a solid sister that evening! I was booked in for surgery next morning but after a 2am phone call with Dr Dan Hart we were off to London for 7am the next morning.

The rest of the evening was far from over, I was instructed to top up my factor 8 levels, this required an intravenous injection and with my right arm locked in Plaster cast this job fell to my Sister, a bit shaky at first but she got in the vein first time, no mean feat! Knowing I would be fasting the next morning I wolfed down a bowl of cereal before we could snatch a mere 3 hours sleep.  Lois was suffering a hangover and severe lack of sleep, I was still dog tired from a stage race which meant we were both akin to zombies driving to the Hospital next morning.

A day of fasting rendered me grumpy but keen to get things moving, unfortunately though surgery that day wasn’t to be, an emergency had come in late so I was bumped to the following morning, whilst I felt very sorry for the poor fella who had gangrene I was more devastated that this information had been delivered post dinner trolley rounds, I was presented with orange juice and an apple for my evening meal and knowing that I’d be off breakfast the following morning as well left me irrational and unhappy at my situation (stomach).  Mum and Dad also made a visit, Mum promptly burst into tears and Dad questioning what happens next cycling wise along with the million dollar question…will this put me out of the Olympics.  Dad took small consolation in accepting the Jag keys whilst I was incapacitated.

As a Haemophiliac everything takes a bit longer when it comes to surgery, checks and double checks are made to ensure my levels are sky high so no excess bleeding occurs so finally at midday I was knocked out then before I knew it I was back in the room, family back around me and arm bandaged up.  I remember Lois asking me how I felt as soon as I opened my eyes, to which I promptly responded “bloody fantastic” clearly the morphine was still doing its work! The operation had been a complete success, everything had been put back together extremely well, Mr Dimascio is a renowned orthopaedic surgeon and his work on me was no exception.  4days later I was released, it was good to breath fresh air again! Even if it wasn’t to last the week…

So it’s been a roller coaster couple of months, which is why I haven’t been in touch so much.

The classics season for me will be one to remember, I was down for Het Niewsblad and Kurne Brussels Kurne, both of which in their own right are major single day races. Het Niewsblad was a bit of a baptism of fire, knowledge is key for these sorts of races and that was what I was lacking in vast quantities. No matter how much you study the race book it is difficult to know exactly where to be within the peloton and when. I got about 75% of the way through the race and was holding my own until disaster struck. I was a little far back for a section of cobbles and guys started going down in front of me, I had nowhere to go but to plough into them, both my brake levers of the prototype 11speed Dura-ace equipment I’d been asked to test out after the crash were pointing the wrong way but I was ok. Unfortunately the convoy of cars was heavily backed up behind me so it took some time for my spare bike to reach me, when it did the race was long gone and trying to chase back was futile. I climbed into the broom wagon and sat working out what I was going to do different the next day.

For Kurne Brussels Kurne we had a set plan in place, we had a plan for Het Niewsblad but with the presence of Mark Cavendish we knew if we pulled this race off correctly and dropped Cav off at the right place at the right time it wouldn’t be a case of whether he would win, he would win. That I believe is why Cav’s team always seems so dominant they have real faith in Cav’s ability. Sure enough in the race we were the first team to start riding the front and as the youngster of the team I was first to be riding. I did the best part of 120km on the front and pulled my final turn with 6km to go where the lead-out trains took over and really ramped up the pace. I had a steady ride to the finish with Bernie Eisel and a commissaire pulled up and allowed us to stick our heads in his car to listen to the radio. Cav had done it, a fairly standard sprint and comfortable win for Cav meant we all went home very happy!

A weeks easy riding followed and before I knew it I was back in Belgium ready for a much smaller race, the 3 days of West Flanders. One I knew I could get a good result in given the flat road stages and perfect time trial.

When the team has a couple of strong time trialists we are spread out in the starting order to cater for changing weather conditions. I was off early, Mick Rogers was off late. I paced my effort fairly badly, got overexcited on the out leg when really I should’ve been saving my energy for the headwind return leg and that was reflected in my power outputs when we bought the graph up on the computer. Although I had the quickest time there were many riders still to go and I was sure my time wouldn’t stick. Annoyingly as well the wind changed direction dramatically and 10 riders in the middle of the starting order quickly knocked up a new top 10 with a very favorable cross tailwind out leg and sheltered return into the headwind. Mick unfortunately also didn’t have good conditions, crosswind out and no wind back and to put it into perspective I was 15 seconds up on him at the turn and 8 seconds down at the finish.

The next day I finished comfortably in the bunch, we lost Mick to a crash in what was proving to be a race where having your wits about you was key.

Day 3 was going well for me, a wet and windy stage wasn’t causing me any trouble at all, I was well positioned and ready for the finale, we hit a long stretch of cobbles which were treacherous but with no corners so as long as you let the bike go where it liked you should be ok, I was sitting top 15 sitting on the experienced Leif Hoste’s wheel. He got it all wrong and went down, I wasn’t covering my brakes and had no choice but to go straight over the top of him coming down heavily on my side, elbow and hip in particular and I stayed down knowing my race was over as I watched Hoste get up and carry on. I sat up, assessed myself doing the usual checks, hand goes straight for the collarbone; I’m ok, Hip? Sore but I think ok, Shoulder blade? Ok. Elbow? Could be in trouble but I can move it so probably ok. Eventually the race doctor arrived, I said I thought I was ok and he rushed off, clearly there was more carnage up the road! I jumped in the team car and was dropped off at the bus. I guess I knew it was 50/50 that there could be some real damage but was telling myself I was fine and with my Haemophilia I wanted to be treated at the Royal London Hospital rather than in Belgium. I’m sure Belgium would’ve been fine but I just feel I’m in safer hands in London.

I got washed, changed and got going pretty quick, fortunately with the XKR being automatic if need be and the driving position so laid back I was pretty comfortable and the drive was easy, filling up with petrol and buying dads birthday Belgian chocolate was a little trickier but I managed, amazing how a stubborn attitude to believe you are fine gets you through! Mum and Dad knew I had crashed and it was disappointing all round as I was set to finish 6th overall but I didn’t tell them I was injured. I rang my Sister Lois to come over to mine and look after me, then ringing her again to ask that she take me to A&E to get my elbow and hip x-rayed to see if there was actually any damage. The reason being that I crashed on Dad’s birthday and they were in Surrey spending a weekend in a fancy hotel so we decided it was better they didn’t know or worry.

My next installment goes through the trials and tribulations of an athletes frustrating injury time in what is such an important year!

The month long break in October/November we have off is I feel an odd one, 2 days in and I’m wondering what to do with myself and pretty much bored already. You realise the hours in the day bike riding takes up when you don’t have to do it! Carrying on riding, even if it is just 1 hour a day with my dad crosses my mind but logic steps in and says “You have this opportunity now to live like a normal guy, so live like one!”. The usual 8am wake ups become 9am, 10am and before I know it I’m starting the day with lunch instead of breakfast! And on the other side of the coin there were a few late nights…letting ones hair down is the best way of putting it I guess! Needless to say the month flew by and before I knew it was time to dust off the Dogma and settle into some prep work ahead of the 2012 season, a big one by all accounts!

In previous years I’ve gone into it with a bang, 5 hours on day one rain or shine, think that was proving something to myself to say its time to train again Alex, lets start how you mean to go on. This year was different, after the season I’ve had I knew I was in a good place, there was no panic, there were some fantastic training camps planned where I would do the majority of my workload so time at home I’d describe more as maintenance, just to keep things ticking over.

So 4 hour rides became the norm, it seemed enough that I was getting a good solid base workload in but not too much that the weather or coldness etc was hitting me for 6. I’d also keep the structure fairly lose, if there were guys out I’d ride with them, if there wasn’t or the weather was bad I’d either ride on my own or take a rest day. This would sometimes mean a 5 day block of consecutive training and I’d surprise myself by soaking it up, take a single rest day and be ready to go again. Last year a 5 day block would mean 3 easy days, it shows my progression and how I’m maturing as a rider.

During this break period and the early training days I also try to fit in a lot of the functions I am either contracted to do or causes I support. These included the Braveheart fund weekend up in Scotland, speaking to schools as part of the Essex Legacy of sport as well as helping as best I can within the Haemophilia community. The highlight though was doing a reading at the Lord Mayors Appeal Carol service, The Lord Mayors Appeal this year is raising funds predominately for the new Trauma Unit at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel, I am an Ambassador for this and it’s a cause that is close to my heart having been treated for my Haemophilia from the beginning at the Royal London. It was an honour to be asked to be an ambassador and a once in a lifetime opportunity came up to do a reading at the Carol Service at St Paul’s Cathedral. I’ve done my fair share of public speaking, even National Television so I’m comfortable in front of a crowd, but that usually involves something I know my stuff about, bike racing or Haemophilia… this was different though, this was 2,300people and reading a difficult passage from the Bible! It went well though, made my family proud and was another big moment in my short career so far.

Anyways back to business and it was training camp time! Last year as a neo pro it was a case of initiation and survival, this year however was a little different. I have Tour Down Under looming so it was a crucial camp to push the form on to make sure I hit the ground running mid January. This meant going above and beyond the training that had been set for all the other riders but I had a partner in the same boat as me, Eddie Boasson Hagen, so it was set to be a big big 10 days!
It didn’t kick off as planned though, After making a crucial wrong turn at Stansted airport and doing an unintentional 20 min airport lap on a train. Ian Stannard and I missed our flight, so we rescheduled to arrive a day late and entered the Vanity Hotel in Alcudia, Majorca. Keeping our heads down, after some meddling with the new training bikes we headed out for a steady 3.5 hours taking in some climbs and scenery but more just getting the travelling and the nightmare that has been the past 24 hours out of our system.

It was after this that I settled into a routine, I won’t bore you with the intricate details but I will summarize. In 9 days I amassed 48 hours of time in the saddle, the longest day was 6 hours 40 and 237km. There were flat efforts, big and little gear efforts, race scenario efforts and plenty of time behind a motorbike as well to simulate race pace.

Off the bike I would spend the majority of the time remaining on my bed, a massage table or dinner table and that’s pretty much all there was to it with the exception of the odd game of pool… needless to say when I got home I felt I was due a break over Christmas and that I certainly did!

Hope you all enjoyed reading, your feedback, good or bad would be gratefully received as I am new to blogging, hope you all had a good Christmas and all the best for the new year!

Alex

Hey, so I’ve finally finished my season, Tour of Beijing and Chronos des Nations rounded it off and leaves me with 3-4 weeks where I don’t even have to look at a bike! That said its likely I’ll end up doing a couple of club runs, hour easy rides with my dad and mountain biking in my break for no other reason than the fact I enjoy it.

Tour of Beijing

Beijing Smog

The Tour of Beijing was an experience to say the least! As professional cyclists people often think we have our routines, intricate needs and can be very fussy borderline divas. Well in truth we are when we can be but sometimes you simply have to make the best of and adapt to certain situations. Beijing was a classic example. As the race wasn’t in Europe we didn’t have the luxuries of the team bus or cars, nor the familiar European environment. We may as well have been on another planet! Normally simple things for the staff became large problems and would’ve been nigh on impossible had we not had Travis our Mandarin speaking Brit on hand to help us out. The race was new on the professional calendar and keen to impress the World. We stayed in swanky hotels and flew business class to and from the race which was a luxury! The sight of 8 sky riders wandering round the cabin dressed in XL Air China Pyjamas was quite something!! Long haul travel always seems to play havoc with my eating habits. I end up never sure whether I should be eating breakfast, lunch or dinner so before I knew it I was sitting in my room bent over double an hour before dinner absolutely starving. Thus I ordered a club sandwich an hour before dinner. After near on inhaling it I inevitably barely ate anything after, teaches me to not listen to Mum about eating before a meal!

Beijing Training

Jet lag the first night wasn’t too bad, think I was so tired from the travel that I just slept straight through and I awoke on my birthday ready and raring to go. My room mate Vuelta sensation Chris Froome however had been for a swim, a sauna, a workout in the gym, wandered around the hotel for a bit and was first to breakfast by the time I was up! For training we had the option of being taken by bus out of the city to roads suitable for training but this was very early so we decided to do our own thing and have a lie in. 1 hour into the ride and we were still very much in the city and weaving in and out of traffic, a 3 hour planed ride became 1hr45 due to our frustration of such a start stop ride as it turns out Beijing is bigger than Belgium! The bus ride hadn’t been much more successful by the sounds of things, they had spent hours sat in traffic also… Beijing was turning into a small-scale nightmare for training and we were all now itching to race! That evening the boys headed out to the silk markets to see the sights, I decided however to stay in as I knew the prologue was another opportunity for me to prove my worth and I wanted to get an early night…. Jet lag prevented me from sleeping until 3am!! Needless to say this was a Birthday to forget!

Tour of Beijing TT

After a more successful pre race day training ride around a park I was ready to race the 11km time trial on road bikes that started and finished at the Birds Nest Olympic Stadium. I was off v early, teams do this when they have more than one rider capable of doing well in a prologue, for us it was Chris Froome, Steve Cummings and myself, this way with us being spread out if the weather changes at least one of us should get the better end of it. The TT was on road bikes this time, again another scenario where we had to adapt. I was forever telling myself “it’s the same for everyone.” I pulled absolutely everything out of myself, possibly even overcooked it early on slightly but I was satisfied I couldn’t have gone any harder and the numbers were good. A 30 mph average speed and 460 watt average power, which was a personal best. I was also the quickest time so far by a good margin so now, once again, the agonising wait for the other 130 riders to finish!

Tour of Beijing White jersey

Just as the team predicted both Steve Cummings and Chris Froome were up there, in fact we took 3rd, 4th and 5th! I had placed 3rd with World Champion Tony Martin decimating the field and Millar piping me by 7 seconds. I had also rode into the white young riders classification leaders jersey, I was happy.

Day 2 was fairly uneventful, a very messy bunch sprint, no team could fully take control into a headwind finish so it was thrill a minute with riders clashing and breaking spokes, wheels, bikes etc but no crashes luckily. It goes to show just how well the pro peloton can handle their bikes, none of us want to crash or want anyone else to crash so whilst its close there’s a certain amount of respect that flows through the peloton that keeps accidents to a minimum.

Day 3 was the next opportunity to gain (or lose) time, 4 substantial climbs, 2 at the start and 2 at the end of the race. As per usual a breakaway was allowed to leave the peloton (a breakaway rarely forces itself away from the peloton, it’s the peloton that allows the breakaway to leave and controls the gap accordingly, 9 times out of 10 the move is suicidal in terms of winning the stage but is good for riders to gain points in intermediate sprints and the mountains classifications as well as coverage for sponsors if the race is televised). HTC controlled the pace over the first 2 climbs, I was feeling ok but nothing special. I was well positioned for the final climbs but realised after I was perhaps too far forwards, I was getting caught up in the accelerations of riders attacking and this was killing me, I started to slip backwards. This was the most demoralising feeling, knowing I was punching out watts good enough to be competitive for time trials yet not good enough to stay with the majority of riders up a 6km climb. I dangled off the back for a km fighting as hard as I could and then the elastic snapped and that was it, a 20m gap became 8mins at the finish despite Dario Cioni and Christian Knees turning themselves inside out to try and pace me back on my hopes of a holding my Young riders jersey and 3rd place vanished up and over the brow of a climb.

The race finished without a glitch, Davide Appolonio had been up there in the final bunch sprints with our help but hadn’t quite managed to finish it off. All was not lost though, Chris Froome and Steve Cummings moved into 3rd and 4th place respectively and we secured the team classification which meant soaking one of our Director’s Servais Knaven on the podium, and a night out on the town in Beijing followed.

Not a bad week!

The Jag!

My week at home in between Beijing and France was eventful to say the least, I filmed for the programme Embarrassing Bodies and I’m refusing to let anyone know why until it’s aired in Feb/March time so watch this space. I also took shipment of a new car! When I say new as well, it arrived with just the 150 miles on the clock that it took to drive it from the factory in Coventry to my house! It’s a black Jaguar XKR with black rims and black extras but a red leather interior, the engine is a 5.0l supercharged v8 and “How” I hear you ask “can a 23year old Essex Boy racer afford and insure that monster of a machine!?” Well Team Sky is sponsored by Jaguar so as riders we get a lease deal which was too good to pass up, Jaguar insure, tax, service and MOT the car. I have it for 9 months then can renew it or cancel or change it. Needless to say driving it around Essex has been a pleasure, watching the fuel gauge vanish however was less exciting! But I am over the moon with it, it is quite a car!

I’m very into my cars and this comes from my Dad, Phil, He used to be a touring car Driver back in the 1980s, he was good as well finishing second in the British championship in 1988 (he missed part of mum’s labour with me to go race the last round in the championship) So naturally I’ve always been into motor racing and cars. I had an Essex special 206 to start with, fully kitted out with the body kit, exhaust, black alloys, lowered 40mm, sound system and a carbon look roof. This was replaced by a white Ford Focus ST (also very Essex) and then a blue Ford Focus RS (seeing an Essex trend here?). The RS has been my pride and joy and sits in the garage whilst I get (as dad calls is) my super car phase out of my system. It is waiting to go to Mountune Performance (Company that modifies Fords) to have a few bits and pieces done.

Phil Dowestt Toyota Team Toms

Peugeot 206

Focus ST

Focus RS

Chronos des Nations Start

Chronos des Nations

Chronos des Nations was my last race of the season. I won the U23 event last year and thoroughly enjoyed it. The course is fantastic, fast roads, seemingly more downhill than up (I know that makes no sense at all) and a little bit technical. This year I was racing the Men’s so competition was fierce, Tony Martin and David Millar again as well as Westra, Vinokourov and Gustav Erik Larsson. Sky sent a small setup for me, everything I needed but nothing more which suited me fine. It’s often nice to be fending for yourself a little bit every so often. Simon Cope was there to help me as well, we go back to the talent team days so there was a lot of reminiscing during the long waiting hours we have to endure as cyclists. Saturday included a recce of the course, 48.5 km meant 30 miles so the target for me was simple, to go under the hour! A pre race ride for a tt for me will be around an hour to 2 hours depending on how I’m feeling. I’ll ride the course if I can and often tackle the technical sections a couple of times, I’ll also do a 15 minute effort to open up, this will be 10mins of zone 3, this for me is around 150 bpm for my heart rate and between 300-350watts of power, I’ll then lift this to race pace in the final 5 minutes and maybe sprint it out at the end. Otherwise I’ll drive around the course as well for a bit more familiarisation and the rest of the day will be obeying the laws of resting; ‘never stand when you can sit, never sit when you can lie down.’

The actual race was kind of average in terms of how I felt, just wasn’t firing all cylinders so had to use my experience to make sure I made use of what I had, this meant resting and getting as aero as possible when the pace was high, really suffering in the headwind and uphill sections and generally looking after myself in terms of gear selection. The finish line finally approached. Often time trials seem like eternity when you’re racing them yet when you’ve finished they feel short which I guess they are compared to the road race distances. I wound up 3rd, which I wasn’t displeased with given how I felt during the race and what I was hoping for as a result, Tony Martin had decimated the field putting 2mins 50 seconds into me. Gustav Erik Larsson, the Swedish National TT champ was second and David Millar was 4th. I left France satisfied with my performance and my season as a whole and was desperately looking forward to some downtime!

Chronos des Nations

Chronos des Nations Podium

Before home though, I had a very brief stop in Milan, more about that in my next installment.

All the Best.

Alex

Hi everyone!

I’m pleased to announce a partnership with www.trainingescapes.com, a website that makes it easy for cyclists and triathletes to find the best places to train. Over this year I will be documenting a monthly blog on the goings ons of my life in the pro cycling world and the world of Team Sky. I’ll aim to keep it light hearted and entertaining, and convey both the ups and the downs of the sport, of which I can assure you there is both!

This blog is a long one bringing you up to speed, if you can, make yourself a cup of tea, possibly a biscuit or two (chocolate hobnobs are my own weakness) and get comfortable!

This year has been in the most part incredible, as a neo pro my two goals for the year were as follows:

• Fit in with the Team Sky.
• Not make a fool of myself too often.

The first target has a massive tick beside it, the team look after you really well, more so than I thought was possible. There is no competitiveness within the team and the older…. sorry…. I mean more experienced guys such as Jeremy Hunt, Kurt Asle-Arvesen, Michael Rogers and Michael Barry have condensed the learning process of moving from the American and under 23 scene into the Pro ranks significantly. What I believe would’ve taken 2-3 years to learn has taken me just the one to work out how to be at my best both personally and for the team. Of course though every time I climb aboard my bike it is learning.

The second target I feel has been 90% completed.

The tour of California was where it didn’t exactly go to plan. We, as in the team, were on a high and we’d dominated the first two sprint stages with Ben and Greg winning them both. The hills we knew were going to be an issue with RadioShack bringing their A team to the race, and Greg surrendered the yellow jersey on stage 3 with dignity. During the hillier stages I had tried to keep myself in the best shape possible which believe you me is nigh on impossible when Chris Horner is barking orders at his already tired team mates to lift the pace up a 4th category climb to make everyone suffer before launching his Tour winning move up the final 1st cat climb. I would roll in with the grupetto thoroughly spent and wishing to never see another RadioShack jersey near the front on a climb ever again. So here it was the day before the time trial, my speciality, my opportunity to get myself into that ‘zone’ and push myself into power figures and perceived levels of hurt I can only imagine in training. There’s something about having a number on my back and a finish line to race to that makes me give that little bit extra come race day. After a hilly start to the stage, where I’d suffered hanging onto Thor Hushovd’s wheel up a climb out the back of the peloton, only to witness him mid climb say “f*&k this” shift into the big ring and power away back into the peloton, leaving me high and dry waiting and crawling to the summit before descending back into the safety of the peloton using the team cars as my tow. (note: I didn’t consider myself a bad climber before turning pro, this year I’ve realised that the so called non climbers of the peloton can very very much climb!). Mid stage was a flat run into the finish, the pace was comfortable and the banter in the bunch was friendly. It was a hot day so fluids were vital, I took a sip of Gatorade’s Team Sky mix labelled X which I can tell you tastes foul but keeps us firing all cylinders. I hit a pothole; my remaining hand slipped from my handlebars and at 50 kph the next stop was the floor. My lower arms took the biggest skinning, with my ribs taking a bash and winding me badly. To my horror though I had brought down a whole host of other riders, most of which were in very similar kit, Saxo Bank Sungard. I was beside myself having been responsible for 75% of Saxo hitting the floor, one of my heroes Gustav Erik Larsson needed stitches around his eye and a Bissell rider broke a collarbone. Needless to say at breakfast next morning I wanted a hole to open up beneath me and swallow me up. However that hole never appeared and I felt I should personally apologise to the Saxobank Team. It was the Haedo brothers that made me feel somewhat better, their exact words were “don’t worry about it, these things happen and its not like you meant to throw yourself on the floor”. Whilst it lifted my spirits it didn’t detract from the fact I was now out of the tour of California and missing from the time trial, my biggest race thus far of the season.

Since then things have (almost) gone from strength to strength, I podiumed in the prologue of Ster Electrotour and got that exclusive Team Sky text. (Whenever a rider podiums the whole team, staff & riders are notified by a text.) Fran Millar wrote it, how could I tell?? It started “BOOOOM” and ended “WAHOOOO!”. I wound up 6th overall after consistently finishing front or second group on the road in the following stages.

This was followed by one of my most enjoyable results of the year, the Smithfield Nocturne. Going into it both my Dad and I had dreams of my soloing to the finish but the Crit scene in Britain is highly competitive and the riders are tremendously punchy and skilful so I decided to do what I do best. I took my brain out and attacked early, very early, straight from the start line early! A seemingly suicidal attempt turned into something I hadn’t really ever envisaged, I had gained a comfortable gap on the bunch, was cornering well and found a solid rhythm. One where I felt I could lift the intensity not if, but when the peloton started coming back at me. I was gauging my distance on the bunch and was consistently gaining time on them, they were messing about watching and marking each other and this was only helping my effort. After 27 minutes I had lapped the entire field and could set about enjoying my remaining half hour knowing that if I kept out of trouble I had wrapped up the race in front of a local, massive and very enthusiastic crowd!

After this came one of my downs of the season, an arthritic ankle reared its head. This meant 2.5 weeks off the bike after it was diagnosed and treated leaving me worried and frustrated with just one week to prepare for the Tour of Denmark. Unknowingly the rest did me some good and the ankle was repaired. Another podium in the TT and a solid 5th place overall whilst helping Simon Gerrans win rounded off another successful tour and a show of progression from the beginning of the year! Needless to say I will be taking some rest more often!

Next stop was France, Poitou Charentes was a relatively small affair but an opportunity none the less. Lots of bunch sprints saw everyone coming into the TT on roughly the same time, give or take a few seconds. Jesse Sergent, a good friend, old teammate and supremely powerful rider against the clock from RadioShack decimated the field. I was 4th, disappointed to have been beaten by 37 seconds and miss out on the podium by a single second. The next day however the team rode for me in the hope of getting into 3rd place, an early bonus sprint and lead-out from Jez Hunt saw me take 3 seconds securing 3rd overall. Seemingly job done. However a nasty crosswind section 10km from the finish presented us with another opportunity. Michael Rogers, Greg Henderson and Jez Hunt sacrificed their races and powered off the front and away from the peloton with me hiding in tow to set me up perfectly on the final climb where I launched myself clear and knowing how I had to honour the work of my team mates, I put in 110% effort to the finish line. 6 seconds was the gap coming into the finish, we’d done it, a second stage win and the cherry on top was that I’d moved up to second overall. Mum and Dad had driven out to France and had seen their son win his first pro race! It wasn’t until then that I realised just how strong you could be when a team works together in absolute selflessness and harmony.

The National TT champs was a simple but incredible day, I had prepared very well, my form was good and only a mechanical problem was going to stop me riding at a pace which I believed would be competitive. A mechanical did happen and a swift and smooth bike change ensured I loss minimal time. I took the win and gained the honour of riding out the rest of 2011 and majority of 2012 in the red, white and blue stripes of National Time Trial Champion!

The Tour of Britain to the team is the second biggest race to the Tour de France, whilst being selected was a surprise in itself I got a call from Director Sportif Sean Yates a month beforehand to say I was to be one of the GC contenders alongside legend in the making Geraint Thomas. With that came Sean’s words “we must win this race”, needless to say the prospect and pressure of it all was both scary and exciting. The North threw all the weather it could at us and honorary Essex boy Mark Cavendish took the win. Stage 2 was cancelled due to extreme winds and so began our onslaught of attacks which was to last throughout the entire race and we successfully isolated Mark Cavendish out of the leaders jersey but overlooked the sheer strength of Dutchman Lars Boom. Time Trial day in London I woke up feeling good, some of these days come without rhyme or reason, but luckily for me today was that day. The recce of the course went well, I was high on morale stepping out in the shiny white skin suit of National Champion for the first time and ready to tackle a course that looked like it would suit my strengths. 10 mins 14.73 seconds later I had the fastest time so far and now begun the agonising wait for the likes of Lars Boom and Geraint Thomas coming in to try and better it. Lars was a mere second down at the halfway mark, not nearly enough as Sean Yates and I waited nervously by the race radio until the news came in, I’d won the stage, 5 seconds clear of Boom at the finish! It was a magical moment, in front of a home crowd, competing in the discipline I was introduced into bike racing through, and I’d won the biggest race of my career to date. I was happy to say the least!

This brings you nearly up to date, next stop was Beijing, which I will be reporting on in my next post.

Hope you enjoyed reading, the next updates will be shorter I promise, and there will be more unusual insights into the intricacies of the pro bike-racing world!

Alex