Trains, Travels

Wednesday morning and once again I slept in; eight hours and I was still tired. Not that this was unexpected, I’ve survived enough Epic Camps to know what would come – the inevitable crash. From the peak of fitness to the depth of lethargy, the legs that towed the bunch across the Alps had vanished. Three days after camp a last minute invite to the National Club Relays was probably best declined. Of course, I accepted.

As the week came to an end my immune system gave up and I added an irritating cough to my ailments. I was the poorest ringer possible – in no shape to race, but the Police Sport UK team was relying on me to fill a gap. Not that I have strong connections to the police, a couple of athletes I coach and my brother-in-law are the closest I come to uniform. It didn’t seem to matter and I wasn’t worried so long as I didn’t have to deal with any rioting!

Commitment made I was up at 5:30 on Sunday ready for the long drive to Nottingham; after a week of lie-ins it was a shock to the system. I wasn’t filled with enthusiasm and found myself regretting volunteering. At least the motorways were clear at that time. Those initial reservations had vanished by the time I reached Holme Pierrepont. This was going to be fun.

The relay format is simple, but incredibly chaotic. All four members of the team swim, then all four bike and finally all four run. Short bursts of intensity with long breaks in between, the exact opposite of my preferred format. I was concerned I wasn’t the right choice for the race, but the team was relaxed about the competition. We were winging it. There was uncertainty as to how events would run, but as third man I could watch what the others did.

We wandered down to the swim start to see our lead man, Andy, off. I paid close attention to the first change over to fully appreciate how disorganised it was. The challenge in transition was finding your team mates amongst the sea of Orca and Blue Seventy wetsuits. Our second man, Neil, had an old suit with distinctive yellow logo which made him easy to spot. When he exited the water I ran forward, grabbed the elastic band (the baton) and dashed into the water.

It was just over a week since I’d last swum, but in the excitement I felt great. This was different to my usual races – swim as hard as I could for 500m, then rest afterwards. I kept the pace up, but lacked the sharpness of regular swim training. In no time I was exiting the water and yelling out for Carl, our fourth man. Once I’d handed over the band I walked back to the expo to wait for the next stage.

The wind was picking up and clouds blocked out the sun, in my wet tri gear I reflected on how experienced relay racers used different kit for the swim. New to the game I spent the hour between events shivering, trying to find shelter from that cold wind. It wasn’t ideal preparation for a bike time trial, my legs were freezing as I waited for Neil to complete his final lap. The second the elastic band was on my wrist I was off.

The start of the loop round the lake was with the wind, speeds were high. It was obvious my legs didn’t have much in them; whether from the cold start, or more likely the ongoing effect of Epic Camp, they were not going to perform. I pushed to get the most I could, but watched my power with disappointment. It felt hard, heart rate was up and I was producing fewer watts for the distance than I manage in training.

Turning into the headwind was tough going. It was disappointing to see the number who considered drafting acceptable along this straight; a few of the top placing teams blatantly sat on wheels. I just held whatever pace I could and tried to ignore the pain in my legs, reminding myself it would be over in no time. Just suffer the headwind three times. It wasn’t long before I was back in transition and handing the band on to Carl.

The hardest part of waiting is the fear you might be late. I headed to the final transition too early, Neil was still there. As it was he put in a fast 5K so I didn’t have long to wait after he left. Again my legs had nothing. No soreness, but when it came to pace, the top end was gone. I pushed myself, especially during the final two kilometres of headwind, but this was unexceptional racing. Once the band was on Carl’s wrist, my job was done.

Carl closed well bringing the team in with a total time of 3:25. In the top thirty, but losing out to the Police Sport UK vets. Not that we were concerned with time or placing, it had been fun. I checked my results and was disappointed by what I saw – wrong distance, wrong time. I will be back though, probably in a team I actually belong to and hopefully with a little more zip in my legs. The relays were too much fun not to try again.

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If you are unfamiliar with terms like Training Stress Score or Performance Management Chart then much of this post will go over your head. I want to close Epic Camp with a look at the numbers behind the training. I’ve written extensively on how camp progressed and how I felt, but never had time to discuss the impact of that training and the data I collected. Epic is both an experience and a training camp after all; I know from previous camps that I’ll see the benefits in a month’s time.

I’ll start with the simplest measurements – duration and distance. The emphasis in the Alps was on the bike, so whilst the camp involved swim, bike and run, I’ve focussed purely on those numbers. Over eight days I rode around 1070 kilometres (665 miles) with a total ascent of 20,000 metres (65,600 feet); all this was done in 44.5 hours. In terms of hours or distance that’s one of my biggest weeks, the ascent is well beyond anything I’ve done before.

The numbers that interest me are those that give some indication of how I was training. I was fitter for this camp than before and I knew I was riding harder too. I chose to work on the front of the group to push myself and gain the largest benefits. To an extent every camp I’ve been on has felt like this – I arrive fitter and believe I’m working harder than before. Comparing the distribution of power over the camps shows that I really was working more in the Alps

There is a very strong shift right over previous years. It’s interesting to note the two camps in mountainous terrain tend to be skewed right anyway, whilst the New Zealand camps have a broader spread of powers. Mountains make you work – there’s no where to sit in. On the New Zealand camps, whatever distance was covered it was easier to find shelter and reduce the strain. In France I went to the front, working hard between the climbs as well as on them.

I prefer to consider my training in terms of load measured as a Training Stress Score (TSS). The top line is a total TSS of 2200 over the eight days; to place that in perspective a hard week of cycling might see me approach a total of 900 TSS. Epic Camp always involves a significant overload and the year’s Performance Management Chart shows this.

2011 has seen a gradual build in bike fitness (CTL) – a steady increase starting in February and culminating in May. During that time there was a single week of overload shown by the spike in fatigue (ATL) and dip in form (TSB) during early April. Since May my CTL has largely stabilised at just over 100, more than enough to drive development.

There are three notable spikes after the start of May. The first was my fortnight in Lanzarote, containing a ten day block of quality cycling; the second was my trip to the Pyrenees for a week of work in the mountains; the final, biggest spike is Epic Camp France. Despite my level of fitness, the training load was sufficient to reach the highest fatigue of the year. TSB dipped heavily, significant recovery is required before I can train well again – four days after and I’m still tired.

For comparison 2010 saw an initial peak built around the length of New Zealand Epic Camp. Sixteen days of training that didn’t produce notably higher fitness or fatigue; greater volume at a lower intensity. The impact of that camp took a month to hit, but when it did the jump in performance was notable. Much of the rest of the year was spent below 100 CTL, the exception being another Lanzarote camp in May.

Huge training camps that dig deeply into fatigue take a long time to properly recover from, but the impact on fitness, if correctly managed, is huge. Race too close and without adequate recovery leads to poor results, allow sufficient time and you can feel the benefit. It’s fair to note that in both 2010 and 2011 extended periods of high CTL led to solid development on the bike. September 2010 was a period of strong riding even though the rise in CTL is comparatively modest.

This week is a write off. I took my first ride today – a leisurely cruise to a local cafe for coffee and cake. My legs felt heavy and sluggish and the power meter wasn’t worth looking at. I sleep heavily, but still feel tired, I’ve hints of a cold and nothings feels 100%. I’ll keep things simple for now – train as I feel. The peaks achieved on Epic Camps are unsustainable, some of the fitness has to be given up before I can build again.

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Every Epic Camp is different. Different athletes, motivations and objectives; on a personal level I’ve approached each at differing levels of fitness. They are always challenging, but it’s up to each athlete to make the most of them. Points provide some incentive, camp completion another; how you survive is your choice, it can be as easy or hard as you make it. There’s little mercy, the pack can be ruthless, but you chose to be there. I have never experienced a training environment quite like them.

Sadly at the closing dinner Scott confirmed his retirement from Epic Camp. The format may return, but he’s done. The fact it was the final camp had persuaded me to come along. Epic Camps have been a huge part of my development, the athlete that arrived in Lyon last week was very different to the one that arrived in Verona three years before. Epic Camp Italy was my first and opened my eyes to how hard you could really push yourself and how deep you could dig.

There are hundreds of miles of training since that camp in the Dolomites. I’ve pushed myself, always looking for more, though not often finding it. Were I honest I was often frustrated by the lack of progress and the sense I was stuck on a plateau. I’d write about taking next steps, but fear that I’d found my level. My only response was to keep working. Were I really honest, I look back and see many mistakes.

This year is different. It has its problems, but feels like the training is finally returning results. I rode hard in the Alps. I pulled the bunch along not for points, but because I could and it would do me good. I was strong, even at my lowest I’d get through the day. Wearing the Green Jersey had been a goal, but reading Scott’s observation was a bigger reward. It’s gratifying knowing he can see the change, the results of patience and hard work.

I briefly want to reflect on an amazing finale to Epic Camp.

Every aspect came together – the environment, the mix of athletes, even the weather turned out. Day after day riding through stunning mountains as the thermometer rose above thirty degrees. Perfect. Good company, it was great to be riding with John, Scott, Douglas, Steven, Randy and Clas again; and new guys in the mix like Zach and Rob Palmer helped push us along. Steven may have rapidly locked up Yellow, but the competition for the Polka Dot Jersey went to the line. Rob Palmer was a well deserved winner of Green, he grew in strength and confidence over the week; that’s hard.

The riding was incredible. I have spent a lot of time in the Pyrenees, but the Alps were an amazing venue and the choice of Cols superb. Days were immensely challenging, the only easy cycling was the descents. My highlight was the Alpe D’Huez day, not for the famous climb, but the unplanned breakaway on the return. I moved to the front, accidentally gapping the bunch, Steven suggested we go for it; thirty kilometres to secure King of the Mountain points on the Col du Lauterat. That was hard. Driving a hard pace to start left me hanging in and struggling to do useful turns, but it worked – Clas and Steven took first and second on that Col.

Racing the Embrunman standard course was a huge high too. I think most of us would admit we weren’t too enthused on the morning of the race, but the course is perfect. I struggled with the descents, but finding I could push myself that hard in a camp was a good experience; particularly managing to run well after so much time away from training. I’d like to race the full Embrunman, though having ridden the Col d’Izoard I’ve no illusions about how tough that will be.

It’s hard to capture eight days of Epic Camp in a blog, so many highs and lows in a single week. I’ve come away with increased confidence and enthusiasm even if right now all I want to do is sleep! Huge thanks have to go to Scott Molina and John Newsom for organising the camp. And none of it would be possible without the hard work of the support crew – Ian and Julie of Pyrenees Multisport and Anna for massage.

Now I recover, hope my body can put itself back together and even race again in September. I’ll post some data from the Camp later this week – power files and overall numbers. You can find all the rides on my Strava account as well. I recommend you check out the other Epic Camp blogs and pictures for other perspectives on the Alps.

With no more Epic Camp, I’ll have to look elsewhere to get my training kicks next year.

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