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Can’t get enough

Posted in Favourites, Live Racing, MotoGP with tags , , , , , , , , , on 22/04/2013 by Sheree
Youngest-ever, Marc Marquez

Youngest-ever, Marc Marquez

Yesterday morphed into an almost perfect day of sporting pleasure. I dropped my beloved off at the airport and, as the sun was shining, decided an early ride was in order. It was a perfect weather for a ride. I wasn’t the only one to think that as the roads were crowded with cyclists. I’m suffering a bit at the moment with my tree pollen allergy which gives me pink scratchy eyes, a runny nose and a wheeze. It’s worse when it’s windy, like on Saturday. But yesterday the wind was relatively benign which probably accounted for the rain shower which began just as I reached home.

Freed from the restrictions of having to feed my beloved, I enjoyed a lazy soak in my spa bath and even used the spa facility – sheer bliss. Lunch was left-overs from Saturday evening which I enjoyed on a tray in front of the television, so as not to miss a second of Sunday’s jam-packed sporting action. Given conflicting schedules I’m ashamed to admit I had all three televisions tuned in to various channels and could, but didn’t, have resorted to my laptop.

First up the London Marathon. Watching this always brings back memories of my own participation in 1994 where I do believe I set a record for the slowest recorded finish, just seconds before the cut-off. That’s almost 20 years’ ago – scary thought. I keep saying I’ll do another one, but I haven’t. There’s still plenty of time! It was great to see that the shocking events in Boston had increased, rather than diminished, the support for the race.

Then I was transported to Turkey to watch the first stage of the Presidential Tour, won in fine style by German sprinter Marcel Kittel (Argos-Shimano). I was however on friend-watch, which always makes any event much more enjoyable, and I saw them all finish safely in the bunch. At the same time I was checking on progress over in Belgium at La Doyenne, Liege-Bastogne-Liege.

Handily, the rain had delayed the start of the tennis final in Monte Carlo where Nadal was bidding for his ninth win. That man owns the clay courts there but unfortunately not this year. Novak Djokovic won in imperious fashion, no doubt hoping to do the same in Paris, at the French Open. Nadal showed flashes of his old self but the long injury lay-off inevitably took its toll. He wasn’t able to respond as one might have anticipated despite the urging of the crowd, hoping for a third set.

Back to racing in Belgium, where fellow-Brummie Dan Martin surprised many with an emphatic victory, well-orchestrated by his Garmin-Sharp team. It also showed that Ryder Hesjedal, the defending Giro champion is on the money two-weeks before he gets to defend his pink jersey. Mechanicals proved the undoing of a couple of the Spanish riders while the Colombians again animated the race.

Cycling over, I stayed with two wheels and watched the MotoGP races from Austin, Texas. I made a mental note to try and visit my friends who live there next year!  I have tracked with interest the last few seasons the progress of Spanish prodigy Marc Marquez who had pole for the blue riband event – the youngest-ever rider to achieve that feat. However, first up were the Moto2 and Moto3 races, the former including the wonderfully named Maverick Vinales and, the latter, Marc’s younger brother Alex.

Now for reasons I won’t pretend to understand, but which have largely to do with the track and the brakes, Honda bikes were at a considerable advantage to the Yamaha ones. The reverse of the situation two weeks ago in Qatar. It was a thrilling race of cat and mouse with the two Honda riders, Marquez and Dani Pedrosa, well out in front and leaving us wondering who was going to win. Three laps from home we had our answer when Marquez built an unassailable lead to become the youngest-ever winner of a MotoGP race. He’s got an old head on very young shoulders and I’m sure I’m going to be using the description “youngest-ever” quite a lot.

Just enough time to check on OGCN’s progress at PSG – not good. We went down 3-0. Wherever the team ends up in the Ligue, it’s been a fantastic season. The team have punched well above their weight and budget for which credit has to be given to the manager. A few of you will be thinking what about the F1 from Bahrain. What about it? I’m not an F1 fan although I do know Vettel won. By which time I was more than ready for bed!

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Postcards from the Basque Country – Part II

Posted in Favourites, Live Racing with tags , , , , on 10/04/2013 by Sheree
View from my bedroom window!

View from my bedroom window!

Pretty much like the riders, when you’re following a race, your days follow a very similar format. Turn up at the start 90 minutes before the off which, weather permitting, enables you to catch up with the riders and take photographs. It’s always easier if the team buses are parked close to the sign-on which isn’t always possible in some of the smaller towns. However, once the weather deteriorated, this became a bit of a logistical nightmare with the riders, understandably, not wanting to spend a moment longer than necessary in the freezing, wet conditions. Luckily, the weather doesn’t dampen the appetite of the fervent Basque fans who line the ascents in their hundreds and thousands.

The peloton departs and we race to our car or, in this case, our rented Renault Kangoo, to drive to the finish. We head first to the press room to bag our places, set up our laptops, enjoy the plentiful buffet and chat with a few of the photographers and reporters. Then it’s time to check our email and start writing up the summary of the day’s racing as it starts to unfold on the tv screen.

When the peloton’s 10km from home, the press room empties, everyone races to the finish line and listens to the two-handed Basque-Spanish commentary team, awaiting the arrival of the riders. Race over, we drift to the podium to congratulate and photograph the winners, then it’s back to the press room to finish the day’s report, download and edit the day’s photographs.

Job done, our thoughts drift inevitably towards dinner. We were staying in a charming family-run hotel close to a national park, in a town with a couple of restaurants and bars, one of which was excellent and where we ate most evenings. We didn’t manage to work our way through the menu as we often opted for the day’s specials. A relaxing glass of Rioja and we were both tucked up in bed, fast asleep, well before most of the riders.

Towards the end of our break, we popped in to see the owners of the hotel where we stayed last year. We couldn’t stay there this year as it was fully booked! I knew I shouldn’t have written them such a glowing review. We were greeted like long-lost family members and the welcome and cooking was as warm and as good as we remembered. Given the dreadful weather conditions, my beloved is suggesting we opt for the Tour of Turkey next year. I’m not so sure. I really enjoy our sojourns in the Basque country and am already looking forward to our next trip at the end of July.

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Postcards from the Basque Country – Part I

Posted in Favourites, Live Racing with tags , , , , on 08/04/2013 by Sheree
Early morning chat

Early morning chat

I know, I’m back home and I’ve not sent my postcards! We’ve all done it, haven’t we? But, to be honest, it’s the first time I’ve had any real opportunity to write about the trip and not the race which you can read about over on VeloVoices. Well apart from the shenanigans with the Russian visa application.

First up the weather was initially much better than anticipated meaning my beloved was able to ride for the first few days and I even accompanied him despite his unerring ability to find every steep climb in the neighbourhood. Admittedly that’s not difficult in the Basque country although this time he succeeded in finding one or two of the longer, more taxing climbs.

Of course, when I say I rode with him, I meant I trailed behind him. My beloved, despite our lengthy marriage, constantly fails to appreciate that if he runs, skis or cycles with me I’ll make an effort to keep up. Disappear 500m or more up the road, leaving me to my own devices, and I’ll amble along admiring the countryside or get into conversation with other cyclists. As a result, we rarely cycle together.

The first Saturday morning dawned bright, albeit overcast, after Friday’s torrential downpour,and my beloved wasted no time in hustling me out the door though, half-way into our ride, the heavens opened again and we turned tail and fled back to the warmth of our small family-run hotel.  In the afternoon we drove into Navarre to watch the GP Miguel Indurain where conversely the weather was dry with a chilly wind. The race weaves loops around the pretty old town of Estella where, after a truly magnificent lunch, we exhorted the peloton, surprisingly split into a multitude of small groups up the final climb.

Sunday morning we opted to further explore the countryside on two wheels. The sun shone although there was still an early morning nip in the air. The scent of word-burning fires, the bright lime-green shoots on the trees, the blossoming hedgerows, the sound of dogs barking and the tinkle of bells around the necks of goats and sheep gave everything a distinctly alpine feel but then we were riding at around 600-900m and some of the hills still had traces of snow.

I love riding in the Basque country where cyclists always seem to outnumber the motorists who keep a respectable distance and toot in a friendly and encouraging fashion as you labour up yet another of those steep, sharp inclines. Sunday was no exception and we saw many groups from the local cycling clubs, I even cycled and chatted with a few of them after being abandoned by my beloved. Ride over, we settled down to a plate of tapas, a glass of red wine and, on the big screen, the rigours of racing over the cobbles in Belgium.

Monday dawned bright and fair, again contrary to expectations, as we headed over to Elgoibar and the start of one of my favourite races of the year: the Vuelta al Pais Vasco. Accreditation secured, we headed to the team presentation and sign-on where I was able to catch up with a number of friends who were riding in the race. There’s nothing nicer than watching and encouraging someone you know. Our early start also gave us an opportunity to catch up with friends old and new in the press corps.

This race is extremely well attended by the bike loving Basques. The biggest cheers, not unnaturally, are reserved for the “home” team of Euskaltel-Euskadi and their lead rider and defending champion Samu Sanchez who obligingly had his photograph taken with hordes of dark-haired, dark-eyed moppets: inspiring the next generation. It’s also very evident that former winner Alberto Contador is popular with the on-lookers.

The appreciative and knowledgable crowd also welcomes “old friends” such as Jens Voigt who was awarded a plaque in recognition of his support of this race. Conversely, Sky turning up with only six riders, and failing to attend the team presentation, was seen as disrespectful. As the race progressed, they made a point of arriving more punctually for the sign-on except for their gregarious bearded Basque Xabier Zandio who was an early starter most mornings. By the time they started winning stages, they were forgiven.

I love watching the pre-start interaction with everyone milling around the team buses in the hope of catching a glimpse of one of their heroes, a souvenir or two or just checking out the bike bling. Likewise those five minutes or so before the race starts where some riders wait patiently, composing their thoughts before the day’s challenges while others chat with their compatriots on other teams, no doubt comparing their experiences of the previous day’s racing.

The Vuelta al Pais Vasco follows a similar pattern most years, with the first and last days of racing centred on one town and the four stages in between setting off from the previous day’s finish town. It all takes place within a relatively confined geographic area allowing the teams to spend most of the race based in one hotel, close to the action, thereby avoiding long transfers and early morning starts. I think this is recompense for the fact that several stages take place in the freezing cold rain. This year’s been no exception, the rain started in earnest on Thursday with the Eibar summit finish shrouded in freezing fog. Friday morning we awoke to find a blizzard blowing. Why did no one tell me the locals’ nickname for Vitoria-Gasteiz is Siberia?? (to be continued)

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He’s on his way

Posted in Cookery, Favourites, Live Racing, Training on 24/03/2013 by Sheree

A number of you have asked how did my friend’s son fare in his race two weeks ago. Well, despite agonising cramp, he went on to finish third. But he wasn’t happy – only the top step will do. So last week-end in a 6km time-trial up the Col du Tanneron he finished first in his category. However, his greatest pleasure was beating his two-minute man to the line. This was an eighteen year old – four years older – who set off two minutes ahead.

He was racing again this morning in Marseille so the week-end followed a similar pattern to that two weeks’ ago. I picked him up on Saturday afternoon after checking carefully that he had everything he needed. He was pleased as punch that his Dad had lent him some lighter racing wheels and had given him an early birthday present of new red and white cycling shoes and sunglasses. When we arrived back at the flat I left him to amuse himself while I whipped up one of his favourite meals: home-made lasagna followed by creamy rice pudding. Surely enough carbohydrates to fuel the team let alone my little cup-cake. He went to bed early. Racers can never get enough rest!

I woke in the early hours and assumed that it was my beloved’s snoring which had disturbed me. I rolled over and went back to sleep, rising a 04:30am to make him muesli and banana muffins for breakfast. I packed his musette with plenty of muffins to share with the other kids. I woke him at 05:15am and he appeared almost immediately, fully-dressed in his racing gear, in the kitchen. He admitted hat he’d woken up at 02:30, washed and dressed and found his way to the kitchen. It was all in darkness, so he’d retraced his steps, noticing that his bedside alarm clock  showed 02:45, he climbed back beneath the covers for some more shut-eye.

We had our usual chat about tactics on the way to the drop off point. It was tipping it down with rain and I hoped that the weather would be kinder in Marseille. It was. I’ve just spoken to his mother and she told me he’d won the race. No doubt I’ll hear all about it over dinner this evening. So, a quick recap, he’s been riding eight months, he’s done six races and has three wins, a third and two top tens. Not a bad haul!

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Water-logged

Posted in Cookery, Hazards, Live Racing on 30/09/2012 by Sheree

Being British, I still tend to obsess about the weather. It is also partly one of the reasons why I moved here. Every morning a weekly weather forecast for the area where I live is delivered to my in-box. It is remarkably accurate in the short-term and highly indicative in the long-term. On my return from Limburg, I was looking forward to getting back on my bike and enjoying the last of our Indian summer. It rained a lot the day of my return but dawned fair the following day, so it was leg over and off for a few hours genteel riding.

Rain was forecast for Wednesday but it was sunny as my beloved and I set off for a quick spin. We’d just reached the half-way point in our ride when the heavens opened – sod’s law. Descending in the rain’s not too bad providing you know the road well and have good tyres – two ticks. By the time we reached home we were soaked through, but not too cold. Thursday was again rather changeable but I managed to get in a couple of hours between the light showers in the early afternoon. Friday, the sunshine returned. I could enjoy a longer ride and get back on track with the programme.

I’d arranged to ride with some girlfriends on Saturday morning but the heavens opened again, as forecast, before I’d even gotten my kit on. It brightened promisingly but briefly around lunchtime before rain fell again. Now I’m not sure how much rain has fallen this week, but it would be safe to say it’s a lot. With the outlook being somewhat iffy, we speculated whether or not today’s ride would be cancelled. The forecast was again for storms but equally these could dry up very quickly with a fair wind and we would be able to ride.

We were woken at 05:00 this morning by a massive electric storm. Jagged lightening illuminating the sky and thunder booming overhead. This was accompanied by rain falling literally in sheets, just like in a monsoon. It’s still pouring and therefore I think it’s fair to say that today’s race and pointage will be cancelled. It’s likely to be rescheduled, probably later next month. This will give me more time to get my climbing legs back.

Meanwhile, we’re pretty much awash. The heavy storms push earth and stones into the road and into the path of cyclists. The municipalities are generally quick to clean this all up but only once the rain has held a ceasefire. The weather will put a bit of a dampener on this evening’s festivities, we’re having a BBQ around at our friends. I’m making dessert. There’ll be eight of us but five boys with sweet tooths which, in effect, means I need to make enough for twice that number particularly as her two teenage sons can inhale their bodyweights in anything sweet.  I have a plentiful supply of local juicy peaches so I’m thinking maybe a peach, toffee and almond crunch with home-made custard. Then I can whip up a batch of lemon and almond financiers with the left over egg whites to enjoy with our coffee.

It’ll be the home trainers for us this morning but as my beloved only came back late last night from a business trip, I’m going to spoil him with a special cooked breakfast. Scanning the contents of my fridge and freezer, this’ll yoghurt with home-made granola, followed by smoked salmon eggs benedict washed down with lashings of hot coffee, enjoyed in a leisurely fashion with the Sunday newspapers. Better get cracking…………..

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Very belated postcard from Limburg 2012

Posted in Favourites, Live Racing with tags , , , , , , , on 29/09/2012 by Sheree

Yes, I know that despite my best intentions the number of blog entries is dwindling to a trickle, but I have been busy, honest. I’m just back from an action packed 10 day annual pilgrimage to the World Cycling Championships which was held in the delightful surroundings of Limburg, that bit of the Netherlands which protrudes into Germany and Belgium. As you might imagine, the area’s cycling mad and every time I saw a cyclist I wished I’d had my bike with me so that I could join in. Ah well, next year in Tuscany 2013!

I had intended hiring a bike, albeit it would probably have been one of those sit up and beg ones that you see all over the Netherlands, but I fell over and twisted my ankle. Clumsy or what? As usual I was talking and not watching where I was going. One minute I was on the pavement, the next minute I wasn’t. As falls go it was fairly spectacular but I quickly leapt to my feet, dusted myself off, retrieved my scattered belongings and continued walking as if everything were fine. It wasn’t, it was really painful.

That evening I gave my right ankle the alternate hot and cold water treatment which seemed to help. No need for an embarrassing recourse to the medical staff of the Spanish and Italian teams who were staying in my hotel. The next morning the ankle was too puffy for my comfortable shoes but I could wear my ballet flats. I also had an impressive collection of bruises on my left leg and my right arm. There are times when a good covering of body fat comes in useful, I just bounce and avoid serious injury. A sore ankle is not ideal when you’re proposing to spend all day standing at the barricades but I’m an endurance spectator, I just grinned and bore it without complaint. It was my own fault after all.

So, back to the cycling which kicked off with a revival of the trade team time-trial. It sits somewhat awkwardly with a shed load of national races and a ways back they used to have a national team time-trial but nowadays that’s probably a bit impractical. The event was nonetheless pretty fiercely contested and, largely thanks to an error by BMC, Belgium’s Omega Pharma-QuickStep triumphed. But it was a close run thing. Not so in the ladies event where Specialized-Lululemon dominated with their US/German/Dutch squad.

Belgian’s top dogs in trade team time-trial (image courtesy of OPQS)

The great thing about the Worlds is that you get  a week’s worth of racing all in the same spot. Ute and I occupied a place about 20m or so from the finish line and, based on the early bird theory, laid claim to it all week. Neither of us is particularly tall, while the Dutch are, and we did not want to be in the second row standing on tippy toe. Most fans preferred to stay the other side of the Cauberg climb, closer to the plethora of bars and restaurants, either that or they weren’t willing to trek the extra kilometres to the finish. This meant we had a ringside view of all the racing,  could swivel around to watch the action on the screen behind and then later have another prime view of the podium presentation: a pretty much perfect situation. Although there was little in the way of refreshments, my accreditation gave me access to the press area and Ute came well stocked, so we were able to regularly take in sustenance and prevent a bonk.

Another great thing about the Worlds is that you get to see lots of racers whom you never or rarely get to see on the television, like the ladies, U23s and juniors. It’s always interesting to chart their progression into the senior ranks. It’s also great to see the grass shoots of globalisation of the sport with more and more countries fielding riders and teams. None from China although there were increased numbers of Japanese and more from African countries. However, Ute and I agreed while it was great to see riders such as Judith Arndt and Tony Martin retaining their crowns, our abiding memory will be of Marianne Vos’s domination. She last won the World’s in 2006 -  our first Worlds -  and has been a disappointed  runner-up ever since. But this year she’s done the double, Olympics and Worlds just like Nicole Cooke in 2008.

I mentioned that I was staying in the same hotel as two of the teams. Initially, it was Euskaltel, Movistar, Lotto-Belisol and Topsport Vlaanderen. The Lotto boys were on the same floor as me although I never saw any of them but the strong smell of embrocation in the hotel corridor was rather evocative. However I could have done without all the door slamming. Of course, they departed smartly after the trade-team time trial to be replaced by the national team riders. The hotel was under siege from fans, many of whom waited patiently for hours for a glimpse of their sporting heroes. Goodness knows what the busloads of Japanese tourists staying in the hotel made of it.

Now you might be thinking what a fantastic opportunity for interviews. It would be except the boys and girls were already under siege and I had no desire to add to that burden. Surely, everyone deserves a bit of down time. However, it was interesting to observe the contrasting approaches of the two different nationalities. The Italians are extroverts, the Spanish introverts.

There was no racing on Thursday which afforded me a welcome opportunity to renew my acquaintance with Maastricht, a delightful historic town with plenty of eye-catching architecture and some great coffee shops. Purely in the interests of research I tried some of the local baked goodies but I did find them a little heavy for my taste – delicious, but heavy.

As ever one of the fun parts of this event is catching up with friends and acquaintances plus just chatting to a wide range of fans from all over the world while we wait for the racers to hove into view.A few of the natives were overly familiar. A rather drunken Dutch chap said he thought I looked around 42, I smiled as if he might have hit the nail on the head but he was way off base. He’d asked the woman sitting opposite me if she was my mother. I was delighted as she was probably only four to five years older than me. However, having ascertained I was married but had no children, he asked me to go clubbing in Dusseldorf. I politely but firmly declined, after over 10 hours manning the barricades the last thing I needed was more hours on my feet, besides I had a hot date with my laptop!  For more about the event and the races, head over to www.velovoices.com.

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You shall go to the ball

Posted in Live Racing, Training with tags , , on 05/09/2012 by Sheree

Ever since I found out about the time-trial up my favourite hill, the Col de Vence, I’ve had it as my season’s objective. My cycling coach had me train by riding up inclines three times, each ascent faster than the last. Except I never quite managed that part. At best I might have managed a slightly, and I do mean slightly, faster second ascent but the third was always slower. Undeterred, I persisted.

My desire to take part in the race arose from the fact that the slowest time recorded last year was 67 minutes, way more than my best time. When I told my husband he replied “he must’ve punctured!” The event was held last Sunday and you’re probably wondering how I fared? I didn’t take part, instead I played a key supporting role.

One of my teens was planning on riding in a race to Auron on Saturday, when it was cancelled he decided to take part in the Col de Vence race. For minimes and cadets it’s a race rather than an individual time-trial. So I signed him up and arranged that he’d stay overnight with us. The teen with whom he has English lessons had just returned from his summer holidays and he wanted to take part as well. So I signed him up too. In the course of making sure they were both entered, I got chatting to the organiser. I explained that I had thought about entering based on the time of last year’s lanterne rouge. He said: “Oh him, he punctured………twice!” That’s right, my desire to enter vanished in a trice.

So, Sunday morning, after a winning breakfast of French toast, we arrived at the start bright and early. The boys picked up their numbers and went for a gentle warm-up. There was a much better turn-out than for La Ronde although the boy who won that was there too. Initially, I watched the time trial. Last year a new record of 24:24 was established, this year the race was won by a mountain biker with a time of 25:00. There was only one female entrant, so I’d have been no worse than second. She was much younger than me so I’d at least have been first in my age group.

The teens were nervous; butterflies in their stomachs. They set off up the hill. My beloved was waiting at the top. I went for a coffee and a catch up with all the riders I know and haven’t seen for a while. An hour later, we all gathered for the speeches and prize-giving. These events are always well supported by the local politicians so after what seemed like a cast of thousands had their 15 seconds of fame, the winners were announced. Because the cadets, minimes and juniors had ridden together my teens had no idea where they’d finished. In fact we still don’t know how they fared other than they weren’t in the top three. My one teen was delighted to have beaten the lad who beat him in La Ronde and we think he must have finished fifth. The other, after a two month holiday, was further back.

This competition has further whetted their appetites and I’ve found them a couple more races at the end of the season plus a potential club for next year. If either of them ever turns professional, I hope they remember who first set them on the road……………………………I meanwhile am back on my bike and training for next year. It won’t be 25 minutes, it won’t even be the teen’s time of 38 minutes, but it’ll be better than this year’s best time.

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Speedy girl

Posted in Live Racing, Training with tags , , on 09/07/2012 by Sheree

Last week’s tummy troubles, probably caused by a virus, resulted in a bit of a blip in my training but I’m back on the case. My coach has suggested I make three trips up an insanely steep climb going fast, faster and fastest. I may just have to wear my “Speedy Bike Club” jersey. My Swiss friend calls me Speedy girl. He’s being ironic as I’m many things, none of them speedy, on a bike. So, we both have this particular jersey making it a very select club. That’s right, my beloved is NOT a member.

I’ll need all the help I can get, psychological and otherwise, as it’s definitely going to be a tricky climb. It’s not long, just over a couple of kilometres, but I find it really difficult, particularly the stretches at 16 and 17%. It’s the sort of hill where, as you climb, you keep checking that you really are in your granny gear, just in case you’re not, and there’s still one more gear. Of course, there never is but I still have to check!

Over the years I’ve developed a couple of techniques for ignoring the voice in my head that says “Are you insane? Turn round and go home now.” I try to imagine something pleasurable, whatever takes my fancy on the day and at that moment. Or, I promise myself a treat once the exercise is over. It might be an ice cold coke, an ice cream, a juicy peach or a cup of coffee. Again, whatever I fancy and what’s readily available. So tomorrow, I’ll once again be gritting my teeth and trying, against the odds, to think pleasurable thoughts.

As tomorrow’s  a rest day in the Tour, I may just mentally revisit some of the best moments from the last ten days as I climb this particular hill, looking for all the world as if I’m riding in slow-mo which, of course, I am.  Few local riders brave the climb, or conversely the descent, so I’m not likely to be overtaken: scant consolation. Though passing motorists occasionally proffer encouragement from their car windows.

However, my real dilemma is going to be the three speeds. I can’t go any slower or I’ll just fall off the bike. Conversely, I find it really hard to go any faster as I’m already “on the rivet”. I’m just going to give it my best and see how I fare. Already I’m beginning to regret my whim of doing this particular uphill individual time-trial.

Who do I think I am? Bradley Wiggins? I think not, as he and team mate Chris Froome were likened to stick insects on Twitter. Not an accusation that can be levelled at me. Nor would I feel comfortable in the new generation, seemingly translucent skinsuits they’re all wearing. Although I may have come up with a solution – SPANX skinsuits. I’m calling the company tomorrow though there’s the vague disquiet that the surplus, compressed flesh might just roll out of the suit in folds at the wrists and thighs. Still, it’s worth a try.

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Countdown has started

Posted in Favourites, Live Racing with tags , , , , , , , on 26/06/2012 by Sheree

It’s true I can hardly contain my excitement, the 2012 Tour de France starts this Saturday. My beloved’s grandmother felt the same way about Wimbledon. She would get all her daily chores done in the morning before settling down for the entire afternoon and early evening in front of the television, essentials to hand: the draw, the match schedule, Pimms, strawberries and cream. She wouldn’t answer the phone, if you were inconsiderate enough to call, nor would she answer the doorbell. It was her favourite two weeks of the year and nothing and no one was going to spoil it for her. While she was a long-time fan of the game, her all-time favourite was John McEnroe, she was also fond of Boris Becker and I’m pretty sure, if she were still around today, she’d be rooting for Rafa Nadal.

Winner of 2011 Tour stage to Luz-Ardiden

Winner of 2011 Tour stage to Luz-Ardiden

My devotion to the Tour is perhaps not quite so extreme though I particularly enjoy the run-up where everyone is giving their four pennyworth on who they think will win. Of course, there are two ways of approaching this: who do you think will win and who do you want to win. Often the answers are entirely different. For example, I would like nothing better than for Samu Sanchez to win the Tour de France but I honestly believe that third will be his best shot, barring misfortune falling on either Bradley Wiggins or Cadel Evans. Frankly, I don’t really care who wins other than, if it’s Wiggo, I’ll be able to say “I told you so” down at the cycling club. When Team Sky was launched and stated their ambition of a British winner within five years, my team mates laughed. They’re not laughing now and some are even in agreement.

While the favourites battle it out for the podium, my attention tends to focus on rising stars, riders who’ve never recorded a professional win, riders participating in their final tour or their first, the breakaway artists, the lanterne rouge and the bandaged warriors counting down the days and hours until they finally reach Paris. This for me is what makes the Tour so engrossing for three weeks plus, of course, the magnificent scenery. Yes, the Tour is three weeks of minted publicity for France.

Like the riders, planning and preparation is key to success. I have drawn up my list of chores to be completed while spending hours watching the action. Top of the list is usually an hors categorie ironing mountain. This year, it’s already been reduced to no more than a false flat. There is however a lot of things in the mending basket. I freely admit I hate sewing and if a button falls off something, you might never see me in it ever again. Over the year, I store all the little jobs that I can’t legitimately take down to the menders in a basket and come the Tour, out they come.

I never got around to my annual sort out of the drawers and cupboards during last year’s Tour so this looms large again this year along with cleaning the silver and the chandeliers. Now, you might be wondering that while I’m multi-tasking, I’m missing the action. Don’t fret, I have three televisions tuned to French tv, French Eurosport and International Eurosport respectively in three different rooms to ensure that I miss none of the action. Indeed a number of stages are being beamed to us in their entirety! I love these as there’ll be no need to wonder what happened before I tuned in and why so and so’s down the back, again. I’ll know because I’ll have seen it all.

The Tour can be addictive and I have to ration myself otherwise I find I can happily watch French tv from sunrise to well after sunset. I particularly adore Jean Paul Olivier who waxes lyrical about the Tour and France’s rich heritage. I love seeing the immaculately coiffured Gerard Holz pop up at someone’s roadside picnic and engage them in conversation about the Tour and I particularly love the constant stream of facts and figures. I will, of course, have all my supporting papers, books and tour guides on the coffee table for quick ready reference. Lastly, I should probably come clean and admit it’s not unknown for me to watch the evening highlights of a stage I’ve particularly enjoyed, such as Samu’s win last year on Luz-Ardiden.

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I should be there

Posted in Club Events, Cookery, Live Racing with tags , on 18/05/2012 by Sheree

It’s been the same story for the past three Giro’s, I make plans to go and watch a stage and pressure of work, more specifically La Kivilev, means they’re cancelled at the last moment. The Giro arrived into the Italian Riviera yesterday afternoon which for me always conjures up pictures of chic Italians in Riva boats. It looked so lovely on the television and I kept thinking, I should be there. My plan had been to watch yesterday’s stage finish into Sestri Levante and watch it depart today from Savonna. I would, of course, have taken my bike and had a bit of a ride around too.

However, as I’m responsible for providing once again a large proportion of the food for this evening’s BBQ for the Kivilev’s volunteers, my plans were snuffed out fairly early on. Next year, I keep telling myself, will be different. While I’m not doing anything overly complicated for this evening, it is acting as a dry run for next week. I’ve made the carrot and tabbouleh salads for the 40 attendees this evening which has given me a good idea of the time it’ll take to do the same next week, albeit for 175. I had hoped to do a lot in advance however space is an issue, specifically space in the fridges. So most will have to be done the night before. Last year I recall that I stayed up all night cooking, I’m not expecting this year to be any different.

I’ve made a rich, crumbly almond cake to serve with my vinegar glazed strawberries this evening. Spanish strawberries are cheap at the moment and tasteless. I enrobe them in a balsamic vinegar caramel which really brings out the taste. I’m not proposing to do this next week at La Kivilev, no they’ll be having spiced rice pudding and a piece of my (in)famous pain d’epice for dessert.

In addition to the cooking, I’ve also got to purchase all the food for this evening. We keep the BBQ simple: sausages and chicken. Fortunately, someone else has kindly offered to cook these. My beloved did it last year but he’s still in the UK and therefore unavailable this evening. Obviously having him absent does make my workload easier.

One of my biggest issues is trying to calculate who’ll turn up this evening. We’ve reckoned on 40. However, it’s less of an issue as whatever’s left over can happily be popped into the freezer. Though it’s rare that there’s much more than crumbs after these events. I’m constantly amazed at my clubmates ability to consume what is essentially free food. I’m beginning to suspect that they starve themselves beforehand so as to maximise the benefit. Most of them are only 60kg when wet!

I’m obviously a glutton for punishment as I’ve also offered to cook for the dozen or so volunteers next Friday. In year’s past we’ve ordered salads and pizzas which take an age to arrive and are rarely appetizing. In the interests of economy, I’m going to prepare lunch for a fraction of the cost: tortilla with two different salads  – coleslaw and tomato – followed by dessert. Haven’t yet decided what to do for dessert, probably some cake and cookies to have with coffee.

It might sound as if I’m having a bit of a moan but in truth I like cooking for large numbers. Indeed, I enjoy the logistical challenge and, as ever, it really is all about planning and preparation.

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