” I’d drastically over achieved my wildest expectations for day one. I felt proud and content, all that was needed now was to consolidate it all with four hours sleep then hang in for three more days.”
To read pt 1 first click >>HERE<<
I’d set my countdown timer for 4 hours while brushing my teeth, using Mike Woolnoughs’ theorie of ” How long is too long?” from his excellent blog post The art of power napping. Pre trip I’d also set up the most annoying ringtone I could find, something that wasn’t one of my standard ring tones so that when I woke up in a confused daze I’d instantly know something was different than being at home and maybe sharpen up rather than fall back asleep.
The theory was great, and the timer would go off just before 4am if I didn’t wake earlier, getting me on the road again at 4 and hopefully refreshed after a well needed sleep. As I zipped up my sleeping bag I was overwhelmed with tiredness, 400km is a long ride on just two hours sleep. I knew I’d sleep well. …..Until……I could no longer ignore the sound of hundreds of mosquito’s buzzing around my head and already biting anything not inside the sleeping bag.
“Bollox, wanker, fucknuckle, fucking lazy idiot, stupid bastard that you are…” “Dickhead, how can you be so stupid to carry on while it was obvious at the road that the mozzies would be a problem”. I’d slapped a few away as I left the road, slapped my neck, and had itchy legs while unpacking my sleeping gear. It was a school boy error to continue. I should have packed right up and moved on, its amazing how much common sense drains away when all you want is your bed.
I spent the next 30 minutes struggling to find a way to keep them out of my sleeping bag. Which almost worked except that it became a sauna and it was soaked with sweat in no time. The threat of dehydration became more serious than the inconvenience of lack of sleep and mosquitoes. Game over, I packed up and moved out. Taking hundreds of itchy bite marks with me as a souvenir.
I rode for another 30km enjoying the cool night air until I found a nice windy spot on top off a small pass. Found a flat spot, waited five minutes to see if the little buggers were around…Nothing. I unpacked again, this time setting the countdown timer for 3 hours which would get me up just before 5am. Soon after I fell asleep, well for two minutes anyway until the first one attacked my hard to miss ears, then another, then gradually more appeared….Bugger, off I went again. I pushed on for another 30km and found the perfect sleeping spot in the form of a bus shelter. This time I didn’t bother unpacking and just put my fleece on and lay down. Now the “How long is too long?” for the countdown was only 90 minutes, which would get me up at 0525 just before the call to morning prayer and a high chance of people walking around.
Soon after a fell asleep I heard the brakes of a bike. I opened one eye to see Jacques moving into the other half of the bus stop for a nap, I nodded and fell asleep again until my timer went off the jolly drone of “ooh I do like to be beside the seaside..” enough to shock anyone awake. Jacques was gone, and seconds later Georgi zoomed past in a flash of blue, seconds later the mosque speakers sprung to life.
At 6am I found a coffee shop in the process of opening up so stopped for a breakfast of lentils(?) and fresh flatbread with coffee, and stocked up on drinks again.
Sunrise brought stunning view of the hills and the Oman army duo leapfrogging me for an hour.
The rest of morning is a blur of motorways, road works, dust, and cars. By lunch time the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. So, when I spotted a bus shelter I saw my chance for a quick nap. “How long is too long?” the timer was set for 10 minutes, giving me a couple to fall asleep and about 5-6 minutes quality sleep. I’d practiced power naps a lot in the previous months either when I’m the walking dead after a day shift, or just before my first nightshift. If you’re in the right mind set its often just enough if the brain is offline for a couple of minutes. It feels just like a quick reset. Brain off, then “ooh I do like to be beside the seaside…” brain on, handful of nuts, drink of water and go. Once cycling again I often brush my teeth on the move. The minty freshness adding to the just out of bed after a great nights sleep mind trick. The 6 minutes sleep kept me fresh for the next 8 hours.
Just after I was moving again Donncha came zooming past, a quick chat and he was gone again, a man on a mission. Soon after I took a 30 min lunch break at an Indian place and shared a chicken curry with some flies. The full belly setting me up for more road works, motorways and a horrible side/headwind. I was starting to feel confident I’d make the 350km or so to CP2 on day 2 so continued to be conscious of staying efficient like I’d done the previous day.
Efficiency during a long ride is another thing I’d worked on in previous months. Keeping breaks short enough not to waste time, but long enough to let the legs rest from time to time, not too often either. My aero bars are higher than is fashionable but comfortable enough to stay in them almost all day therefore more efficient than sitting up (though I still had to regularly say to myself, get in the aero bars dummy). I kept my cadence high when climbing, “the spinner is a winner”. Monitored my power when climbing to avoid a burn out and whenever I rode above 35km/h I’d reduced my power to almost nothing because so much more energy is wasted overcoming drag at higher speeds, it just doesn’t make much sense to put extra energy in for more speed once you’re going so fast. All the while thinking relax, ride relaxed, relax the shoulders and neck, keep the pressure on the pedals and smile fucker, you’re on holiday.
Sometime later the road dropped onto more local roads, the route bent towards the coast and the wind became a tail wind. I had now cycled 250+km on day two and was feeling it. Luckily now fuel stations were every 20km for a while so I rode from ice cream to ice cream while gradually the wind dropped to a gentle breeze. I eventually reached the coast for the left turn up the coast just after dark. I came to the end of the current gps track and was a little surprised that I couldn’t see CP2. Then I had some vague memory of randomly splitting the route months earlier and wondering if I’d thought to finish this leg at CP2…Nah that would have been too obvious dummy. I loaded the next track and pushed on for another 10km or so to CP2 and to the perfect warm welcome from Renette and Laura.
I posted a short message to my whatsapp group while eating the chicken and rice dinner, while also trying to chat with the lovely Renette and Laura.
“What a fascinating thing the human body is. From couch potato and part time cyclist to this in 18 months. Another 355 km in the pocket. Dinner here at cp2 then a few hours sleep before attempting the last 280. Still feeling quite fresh but legs don’t have much power.”
I’d covered the first 760km in a little under 40 hours. It was tempting to push on as my head felt fresh and sharp, though my legs needed a rest. It made sense to rest. After a quick cold shower I had a chat with Georgi before going to bed. (I couldn’t believe she wasn’t further ahead). Georgi is a very talented young cyclist and was the first woman at CP1. This was her first ultra race and she was eager to point out it had been an enormous learning curve. Her first big shock had been at CP1 while relaxing and enjoying dinner content with a great first day. Then Helle and Jasmijn turned up, shovelled some food in and had a quick chat before blasting out the door to disappear back down Jebel shams. Georgi’s one liner was classic ” I didn’t realise people don’t sleep during these things”.Georgie Panchaud is one to watch, with a little more experience she’s going to be smashing these races. I’m very envious of the talent and ability to train hard many of these “Turbo women” have.
Pt 3 coming soon…..
