L'Etape London 2017

After a dismal London 100, with inadequate training, dire weather and a finishing time that made me want to cry, I thought I should seek out some sort of redemption for myself before the season winds down for the winter here in the UK.

So, I turned to the L'Etape, a Tour De France affiliated sportive organised by Human Race that departs and finishes from the rather magnificent Olympic Velodrome in Stratford, taking in 115 miles of city and countryside and featuring three sprints: two intermediate (at 40 and 85 miles) and one 1km effort around the road track back in Stratford. I expected the pace to be high with the number of clubs involved and a fairly flat, fast looking course inviting some pretty full on efforts to get around the route as fast as possible. As an added bonus, the weather, for once this year, was forecast to be dry and bright, so everything looked good for a challenging but rewarding day in the saddle.

I stayed overnight in Stratford with my wife and the boy, so it was a relatively luxurious amble to the start line at a surprisingly civilised 7.00am. We had seen several other participants checking into our Travelodge the previous night, so it was clear that this was going to be a well attended event with some serious riders and I took myself to bed for an early night. It didn't take long to arrive at the Velodrome, take in the usual paltry coffee van and spend some time surreptitiously checking out the competition, suddenly wondering if my 41mm carbon rims looked a bit spartan by comparison to some of the 90mm and full TT set ups that were milling around. There were a good number of staff manning the event, even at this early start, although they were unable to use the speaker system at this time of day, so getting information about loading times was a little haphazard.

I decided to hang around the loading area, so as not to miss my start and actually ended up being ushered out with an earlier group, enjoying a nice spin on part of the road track before being lead out onto the roads. This is not a part of London that I feel overly familiar with (Stratford and the surrounding areas were still very much a wasteland back in my days of hurtling around the city on mountain bikes and BMX's), so I had that slow and steady feel that inevitably creeps over you when you're riding unfamiliar roads. However, it was crisp, sunny and I felt good on the bike, so the fairly swift pace off of the line set by the club riders was welcome and I followed the large group out onto the course, letting their familiarty with the route set the tempo.

Of course, I got dropped fairly swiftly and, riding alone, soon found myself in that strange no man's land of being faster than the slower riders but not able to hold the wheel of the faster groups. Which left me alone. In a block head wind. With 100 miles to go.

Suffice to say, my finish time was not what I had hoped for. Despite feeling strong, the head wind really ate into my energy and my back began to ache early on as a result of hunching into the relentless gusts. By the 100 mile mark, I finally got off, made my way into a newsagent and bought a beer to lament my rough outing... Not something I would generally recommend but definitely a marginal gain for my knotted shoulders.

That aside, the route was lovely, with some spectacular roads and literally the greatest feed stations I have ever encountered on an organised ride (salted, baked potatoes anyone?). It is a ride I would recommend, especially if you are lucky enough to have a tail wind or a solid club to go with. As a lone rider, I found that I noticed the lack of road side encouragement that is rife in say London to Brighton or the London 100 but there were moments that made up for it, notably the three sprint sections that forced me to think about how to spend my energy in ways that more endurance based rides do not.

The medal I got at the finish line was great (as long as you don't look at the finish time on the reverse) and there were a number of events and activities going on that had helped to distract my wife and the boy from their nagging worries about my extended ride time. So, overall it was a good experience, if not a great day in the saddle for me on a personal level and, as I said, I would recommend it.

So, I suppose I will have to wait for 2018 to find my form again and get back to those solid finishing times from two years ago. Then I'll be back to try this course again and nab myself a medal with a time that I can wear with pride, in addition to a few handfuls of those delicious, carb filled potatoes.

Lens Me You Ears

Cycling - as anyone who has stood in front of a mirror and gazed in admiration at their own razor sharp tan lines will tell you - is a strangely emotive thing. There is a huge amount that can influence how you feel on the bike from the basic mechanics of well maintained group set to the smaller, more personal touches you apply to that aggressively tight kit. Feeling good on the bike, however, invariably translates into stronger legs and a renewed urge to put in the miles, although there is no exact scientific research available to back up these bold claims.

What that has to do with me coming into possession of a pair of Oakley Jawbreakers and celebrating my own mediocrity is a slightly convoluted tale but, since you asked, I'm happy to share.

When I first started 'cycling' as opposed to simply 'riding bikes', I was one of those rare beasts you pass on the road with no mitts and no sunglasses. You might experience a moment a self doubt as you rocket past, wondering what marginal gain I have acquired by shedding these few grams, what aerodynamic benefit am I quietly reaping by going out semi nude? What you wouldn't know is that I didn't have any of these things in mind... I just didn't own any sunglasses and still find that going gloveless helps me to disperse heat but thank you for being momentarily intimidated.

What you also wouldn't know is that my face is some sort of powerful magnet for Bees and Sandflies, as I soon discovered when my average speed crept up and I was venturing further and further into the rather lovely countryside that surrounds Hastings. In addition to being constantly heralded as Shoreditch on Sea, this town also has the highest population of suicidal airborne insects known to man, something to bear in mind if you are ever tempted to move your artisan bunting and chutney emporium down to the coast. My eyes were perpetually being pelted by insects, some just casually smashing into them, others becoming lodged to die a horrible death and leaving me to watch my average speed drop as my efforts to get them out intensified.

Clearly, something had to be done to maintain my Strava averages and some sort of sporting eyewear was the answer.

Sports sunglasses are a strange beast, ruined forever by middle aged men who wear them whilst out shopping with their wives, lending them a perpetually pissed off expression and the quiet air of someone who means to abscond with you with you in the back of their van or talk to you about their U2 covers band (perhaps even both). It also does not help that my wife has a very real aversion to these glasses (primarily for the reasons above, although she puts it in slightly less flattering terms), so much so that even now I wait to leave the house and get around the corner before putting mine on, for fear that her love for me may die.

My first tentative foray into sports glasses came with the London 100 in 2015 and a swift visit to Evans at London Bridge. The suddenly very real prospect of dragging myself over 100 miles with a variety of drowning insects in my eyes caused me to make this sudden detour and purchase a £15 pair of very basic clear glasses (my reasoning being that I could always use them for odd jobs or pillar drilling, should I ever decide to take up either in later life).

They were perfectly serviceable, a revelation to wear on the ride and I sported them fairly consistently on the bike after that.

I'd like to say that I bought another pair because I lost these, or needed something more technical to meet my ever increasing prowess on the bike. However, as many of you reading this will understand, it was actually just that little nagging voice inside the cyclists brain that began to suggest, casually, that maybe these glasses weren't cool enough. Maybe they looked too cheap. Perhaps my legs might be stronger and faster if I treated them to a better, more technical slice of eyewear, something more akin to those you'd see in the professional peloton...

All of which sounded more than reasonable to me (after all, my little nagging voice only has my best interests at heart, even if it does have a stark disregard for my bank balance), so I duly went back to Evans and surreptitiously tried on a few pairs of slightly more expensive glasses.

I settled on a pair of Tifosi Dolemite 2.0 with a photochromic lens (the prospect of having to predict what lens I might need to counter the ever shifting seaside light just seemed too much like work and, to be honest, it just seemed like a cool sort of technical detail).

They weren't exactly what I had had in mind and a far cry from the Poc or Oakley shapes dominating the peloton but they suited my budget (around the £60 mark) and didn't make any bold statements about my average speed or sprinting abilities. They were, however, a solid pair of cycling glasses for a competent middle aged cyclist and were neutral enough that I wouldn't need to worry about them not matching my kit. They successfully blocked the shifting light, kept out the insects, were slightly too small for my face, had a thick frame that obscured a fair amount of peripheral vision and fogged like an absolute swine on any kind of climb in even reasonable temperatures.

I loved them.

I proudly sported these glasses on my return to the London 100 in 2016 and sailed through the ride on strong legs to set what still stands as my best time. I felt and performed like a much more informed, dedicated and competent rider (and I also appreciated that they hid my very tired looking eyes after a brutally early start time and a rough nights sleep in an Elephant & Castle hostel). As I said, cycling is a strangely emotive sport and small details can sometimes make a huge difference to how your brain and body get along, regardless of the fact that you're half blinded by misty lenses as you drag your padded backside up Leith Hill.

Sadly, the brain can work both ways and, in the following year, I changed job and traded my usual cycling routine in order to gain some more time with my family. I immediately found it difficult to get motivated when out of my usual rhythm and, as I spent less time on the bike, I noticed that the weights and core exercises I managed to fit in were beginning to alter my body shape and muscle mass. I looked healthy but my power to weight was all out and my nutritional needs on the bike had changed too. I was suddenly set back, slower and less able, suddenly not confident in what I was and wasn't able to do. Hills were hard work, my average speed dropped and we had one of the worst summers for wind and rain that I can remember. Everything conspired to keep me off of the bike in the run up to 2017's London 100, to the point that I seriously considered abandoning.

However, with rain forecast and almost no structured training, I duly set off to London to sign in at the Excel Centre and, up there without my family for the first time, I was free to have a good look around the various stands and displays. It was there that I stumbled upon the Oakley Jawbreakers being sold at a discount (although still enough money to force some serious mathematics and hasty restructuring of my projected rum consumption for the month).

I hovered, I procrastinated, the little nagging voice in my brain suggested that I try them on, hinting that perhaps my under trained legs might be stronger and faster if I treated them to a better, more technical slice of eyewear, something more akin to those you'd see in the professional peloton...

And so, I seem to have crossed the finish line of the London 100 in three successive years in three different pairs of glasses. I don't really need to say anything in terms of a review, the Jawbreakers are a fantastic piece of kit and there are a lot of other, more technically able writers who will guide you through their many fantastic qualities. There was still some minor fogging in the periphery of my vision on those hills and one, very game bug managed to sucked in through the vents in the lenses but they are light, comfortable and the rather natty red mirrored lenses do an incredible job of filtering out UV rays and the general noise that some glasses let through. More importantly, I felt like a better cyclist and the shape made me feel more aero, more aggressive in the saddle again. They are a pleasure to ride in and I would recommend forgoing the low to mid price offerings if you can and go straight for these, they will speak straight to emotive cyclist inside of you and make you feel like a pro, even when your limbs disagree.

I'd like to be able to finish this story by telling you that I powered through the 2017 London 100 and set a new personal record, my legs suddenly rejuvenated by my new glasses and brimming with new found wattage stores. Unfortunately, I slogged it through rain, a strong headwind and had to admit defeat on Leith Hill, eventually staggering my way across the line about 40 minutes slower than my personal best and 30 minutes slower than I managed on a steel framed city bike two years before. Despite that, I managed to hit 57mph drag racing through central London, felt almost no spray as I tucked at the back of the group on the wet roads and enjoyed feeling the compulsion to ride spring back to life inside me as I ticked off agonising miles from behind my red tinted visor.

I will be back for next years 100, hopefully with a body that is more in line with my renewed desire to better my performance, when I can do my bike and kit justice.

As I said, there is a huge amount that can influence how you feel on the bike that will eventually translate into stronger legs and a renewed urge to put in the miles if you let it. It's far from an exact science but, in terms of proven results, I can honestly say that I've never felt better about putting in a mediocre performance than I did in those glasses.