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.

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.

We had one, single task today – ride from Annecy to Lyon. 175km taking in the Col du Grand Colombier which John assured us would be the toughest climb we’d face all week. Get over that and the job was done, bar for another 800m of climbing and a long drag to Lyon.

Once again I slept well – a bad sign for performance as it indicates just how tired I am. At least all I had to get up for was breakfast before the ride. I ate well, no point holding back, I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be going hungry. There was nothing leisurely about this breakfast, we were on the road by 8:30.

The pace started quite gently, but wanting the day over Scott took a huge pull on front and ensured we reached the climb quickly. A drinks stop which one or two campers took advantage of to get a head start and the climbing began. It started hard and continued that way for the next 9km; typically around 8-11% in grade, with one or two brutal little pitches up at 13%. Once the worst of it was over there was a reprieve before one final hard pitch up.

Descending the other side demonstrated we’d had the easier task with several kilometres at 19% and 15%, not that much fun going down, but better than coming up. The descent was a welcome break from hard work, but it didn’t take long to reach the bottom of the next climb. John had assured us he’d hardly noticed the climbing in the car; on the bike I was well aware of the 6-8% gradients we were on. The thought of an imminent lunch stop pulled me along.

For the first time on camp I loaded up on sugar at lunch. A snickers, rice puddings, crepes with nutella; I’d felt a little weak earlier and a gel had picked me up, I was craving sugar. It did the trick and I felt great on the final short ascent. From that point it was a long down hill leading to an even longer drag to Lyon.

We regrouped on the flat with 55km to go; a rolling road and a headwind faced us. John took the initial pull before peeling off for me, I wasn’t feeling it, but figured I could hurt for a few kilometres. Rob De Pinto lost a spoke and the group broke up, I eased up whilst I waited to hear the plan. With the support crew on hand, we continued rolling, but Steven came to the front.

Fifty kilometres to go and he raised the pace. This was survival. Surges hurt, responding to changes in pace and gradient hurt; if you wanted to get back to Lyon quickly you better hold on. I stuck in there, held my place and counted down the kilometres. Every town or slight rise was a relief as the pace eased off, the long flats could be a nightmare. All I cared about was getting the Lyon.

The group fragmented and a bunch of six of us made it to the edge of town. A few stopped for fluids whilst Steven, Rob Palmer and I continued on to the hotel. The last few kilometres flew by; knowing you’ve completed camp makes a big difference. We reached the hotel, congratulated each other and in minutes started packing our bikes. Sooner it’s done, sooner you can relax.

Epic Camp heads into Lyon in a matter of minutes. Time to chill out and celebrate the achievement. I’ve enjoyed every camp I’ve done, but I think this is the hardest I’ve pushed myself; It’s been rewarding to see that I could train this hard. And of course I did get to wear the Green Jersey for a day.

I’ve never moved my arms so slowly in the water. Each stroke and each recovery took their time and I wasn’t willing to push myself, just complete the 45 minutes required for camp completion. Previous swims had left me feeling refreshed, this time I felt no better and just wanted to get to breakfast as quickly as possible. I hoped that once I was on the bike my legs would pick up and I’d be going well.

We started with the easiest riding of camp – taking the bike path along the side of the lake. Having to weave our way through other cyclists kept the pace necessarily low; I just span out my legs and didn’t complain. Once we’d cleared town and the path emptied Steven joined me up front and we pushed things along. Going harder on the flat didn’t feel too bad, perhaps the day would be good.

The first small (400m) hill put that idea to rest as I dawdled up it in a low gear. Mind and body were unwilling to work above a certain level. Given the next two climbs were significantly harder my optimism vanished. It wasn’t long before we reached the Col du Pre, the first major climb of the day, Steven had driven the pace hard to get us there and it had stung my legs. Once we headed up I dropped back and rode all the way with Douglas; we chatted and enjoyed the views, it was a pleasant way to spend a climb.

A brief stop at the top for drinks and to admire the beautiful lake and it was straight into a fast and eventful descent. Being at the back for the descent I came across a group of the guys and learned that Scott had had a close encounter with the back of an Audi. Both he and the bike had faired remarkably well considering; once he was sure the forks were fine he was straight back on it. It wasn’t long after that we reached the foot of our second climb to Les Saisies.

Not quite as brutal as the Col du Pre, but long enough. Douglas moved away early as I settled into my single climbing pace, it looked like I was going to be along. I soon caught back up and when I went past he didn’t follow; I was alone, just not near the back. I made steady progress up the hill again never pushing the intensity. My mind was focussed on conserving energy, as Scott put it – looking for fuel efficiency.

The views on the climbs were classically Alpine and spectacular. My legs hurt, but I paid more attention to the scenery around me and what life must be like living halfway up a mountain.

After lunch in Les Saisies we descended as a group and rejoined the bike path back to Annecy. I’d been warming my legs up on the descent, trying to feel if they had anything for the flats. Once we’d reached the path I moved to the front and tested them properly. The worked and I pushed the next 15K at a solid pace, the only frustration being the occasional gate slowing us down.

Things got a little more heated when we left the path and took the road down the other side of the lake. The pace picked up with Steven and Clas putting in some solid efforts on the front. I hung in there till we hit a steep little hill and the group fragmented. For those final 10k we were split by traffic on the busy roads. A tough day, but I’d survived and achieved something in the final hour or two home.

It wasn’t over though, camp completion required a run; Paul had been the only one smart enough to get it done early. Begrudgingly I changed and plodded out on the cycle paths of Annecy. With perfect hot weather for sunbathing the city was heaving and half the challenge was dodging pedestrians. It was a slow run for fifty minutes, but I was surprised that my legs worked reasonably well. That was it for the day training done.

After seven days of hard training I’m reaching my limit. Day eight is the return to Lyon – a long ride with a brutal climb in the middle of it. There is no other training required for camp completion and I’ve no intention of doing anything extra. Aside from a swim I’ve not tacked on this time and I’m not about a start. I just need to survive another 190km of cycling and the job is done.

I wasn’t enthused and neither was my roommate Douglas. Both of us would have preferred to sleep a few more hours and perhaps recover before the final big days. We made our excuses and set expectations low, but once the race started I don’t think either of us held back. I sat on Douglas’s feet for the entire swim, though I was polite enough not to tap his toes. I crawled through transition whilst he shot off onto the run.

The chase was on and I spent the next 5K trying to run him down. I closed the gap, but with only a kilometre to go he held me off and ran strongly. I had nothing more and there was no way I could take him.

Being an easy day we had a leisurely breakfast, over two hours before the next piece of camp training. Traditionally Epic Camp easy days have allowed some gentle riding, but things change – there was a hill for KOM points. Not a trivial bump, but 16km of climbing to an altitude over 1600m. I was not looking forward to this.

When we rolled out of the hotel most thoughts were on the prospect of an afternoon off. A chance to relax and take a break from training. At the bottom of the hill these thoughts vanished, I tried to stick with some of the initial surges, but was soon off the back of the lead group. Too strong for me, too early in the climb. Accepting that they were gone I settled into a rhythm.

Over my shoulder I saw Douglas in the green jersey, not far off, but this time I was going to stay ahead. Midway through the climb the road flattens and I pushed the pace to open the gap; it seemed to work as soon he was out of sight. As the road pitched back up to 9% I settled. A short while later I spotted a rider in dark kit one hairpin back. It took me a minute to realise it was Scott closing in on me.

Motivation! I was determined to hold him off and upped my effort. I spent more time out of the saddle doing all I could to drop him. The gap didn’t open, he seemed to be closing, but I kept pushing. There was at least 6km to go and I felt close to my limit, my only hope was he was too. I dug in. The next twenty minutes were some of the toughest riding on the camp as I kept pushing myself until the gap opened.

I had to be sure, I couldn’t let up, and perhaps with enough effort I could bridge up to Steven and Ian who were within site. I really was on the edge though and each new pitch took my legs closer to the limit; corner after corner the top was never in site and Scott was always somewhere behind. I never quite bridged up to Steven, I came close, but mercifully the summit arrived.

Being an easy day the whole camp stopped at the summit cafe for lunch, ice creams and a moment to chill. After a relaxed lunch I just swung my leg back over the bike and rolled down the hill. An easy descent, no effort, spinning the legs out to the hotel.

With the rest of the day free a few of us headed into town to take in some of the sights and find ice cream. I didn’t take up the buy five scoops get one free offer, sticking at a more reasonable two (plus two Magnums spread throughout the day). Tomorrow it’s back to training with another 100 mile plus ride and a few cols thrown in on route.

When I swung my leg over the bike it was a different matter, they were definitely feeling the previous few days. It didn’t stop me going to the front once we were clear of Briancon and working with Steven to keep the pace high. Having formed a breakaway the day before I knew Steven was keen for more KOM points so I suggested if he was strong he breaks from the front and I’d hold a steady pace. Hopefully no one would go.

Eight kilometres from the summit of the Col de Lautaret he made his move and I held a steady power, trying not to obviously slow down. Clas and Zach flew pact and got on Steven’s wheel, the rest were slow to respond, but when John jumped round and everyone followed I had nothing. I worked hard the rest of the Lautaret to maintain the gap, but I couldn’t bridge. When we hit the Galibier I was gone and put in my weakest climb of camp. Frankly I was glad when it was over. The plan had worked and Steven had taken third.

At over 2600m the Galibier was the highest point of the day and the next eighty kilometres were all down hill. After a fantastic descent interrupted briefly by the Col de Telegraphe we hit a 50km highway section. Still slightly downhill, but with a headwind in our face I decided it was time to make up for the previous lacklustre performance and hit the front. Working with Rob and with a little help from Steven, Douglas and Chrissie we pushed all the way to lunch.

I was shattered by the effort and struggled to eat. The heat had built up and I took in as much fluids as I could to battle dehydration. I honestly wondered how I’d get over the final couple of Cols before we reached Annecy. On the first climb my legs came back to life and whilst I was roasted and thirsty by the top I picked up on the descent and hammered my way to the lead group. Fuelled a little by frustration that I’d been left behind at that point.

I kept the workload on for the rest of the ride, pushing hard up the final Col and enjoying the descent the other side. I cruised down to Annecy where I was joined by Douglas as we navigated the town to find our hotel. Overall i was satisfied with the ride, I’d have liked to have been up to more on the Galibier, but had to take satisfaction that I could push myself later in the day.

We rounded training off with a 30 minute swim in the lake. I’m not sure many were enthusiastic, but it left me feeling refreshed. Tomorrow is the ‘easy’ day. A pre-breakfast Aquathon, and then a late morning hill time trial. Once that’s done the rest of the day is ours. I’m not chasing yellow so I’m not going for any extra points. I’ll use the time to catch up on email, work and this blog.

Once again I end the day feeling tired, wasted and hoping my body can hold together a little bit longer.

The most important fact was missing from yesterday’s abbreviated post – I was in Green. Today I rode out in a camp jersey for the first time. I aimed to live up to it and once John had pulled us out of town I went to the front and led the way up the Col de Lautaret. A gradual climb in comparison to recent mountains, but long; it took time to reach the top. There was a moment when I thought Douglas was going to attack me to take the Col, but he dropped off to be replaced by Ian who chased me and beat me at the top.

From there a long descent through stunning valleys to the bottom of the Alpe D’Huez. We rode out as a group for the first KOM of the day, I was suffering, but slowly pulled some places back to finish around my usual fifth position; it’s becoming a habit.

At the top of the Alpe a run race was arranged which only a few of the Campers joined in with. It was tough at that height and a far from flat profile. Unsurprisingly I came in fourth, maintaining my usual position! I was wasted from the heat and the work done so far today. I seriously doubted my ability to get myself home. The descent was easy at least, even if I did become paranoid about over heating rims!

The group moved along at a steady clip with Ian doing the work on the front. Fresh legs help and I moved to the front on the first climb aiming to drop the pace. My move threw me 20m off the front of the group and Steven joined me, he suggested nobody wanted to work and we could make a breakaway.

I’ve no idea where I found the energy, but we pushed the next 35km back to the top of the Col de Lautaret. Clas bridge over to us and we set about working to reach the top ahead of the bunch. The aim was simple, help Clas into Polka Dot on the King of the Mountain and further secure Steven’s lead in Yellow. I was tired, but hung in and did turns where I could.

Six kilometres from the top I was done, Clas pulled away while Steven and I proceeded at a steadier pace. As it would turn out Steven rode a puncture up the final 5km, not wanting to give away a high placing in this KOM. I sat behind and kept watch for anyone else attempting to bridge, if needs be I’d attack and take second to help take high points on the KOM for Steven.

Job done. We reached the top, Clas was in Polka dot and Steven was second. A short rest to find water and fix the puncture and then the long descent to our hotel. I took it easy having done my job for the day. I know my strengths and enjoyed playing domestique for a while. I can’t win Polka Dot or Yellow, but I can help my friends hold onto them. Strategy may need to be considered for tomorrow’s ascent of the Galibier.

Steven, Rob and I squeezed in the 3K swim to round out the day. A few others tried, but the pool was closing early so they’ll postponing completion for another day. There’s a little leeway in the points game when logistics get in the way.

The huge day has left me shattered. I’m not sure how much use I’ll be tomorrow when we swim, bike and run again. Certainly managing to dig deeper than ever before and really test myself. It’s fun being this strong on the bike, I hope I can push one more time before the recovery day. I hoovered down food at dinner and then it was a great massage from Anna; hopefully it’ll help keep the legs working hard.

I’m no longer in Green, the honour passed on to Rob. I’ll continue to push myself hard, points are great, but I’m here to train. Steven is in yellow, and Clas takes the Polka Dot by a single point. There’s a close battle for that jersey.

We started early with a trail run at altitude. The initial pace barely counted as running, but it was the best any of us could manage. I trotted along, clock watching, desperate for the turn around point to arrive. When it did I found a little more energy and rushed back to the hotel for breakfast, narrowly avoiding a wrong turn on route. Happy to have run well, though concerned by a little soreness in my right knee, I was a little nervous about the ride ahead.

At least it started well, the advantage of being based at the top of a mountain is the first 10km of the ride is a descent. I barely turned a pedal to reach the bottom with the main group. We stayed together along the lake and as we turned into the hills I pulled round to the front and settled into a solid pace. My usual nervous descending saw me head back in the group whenever the road went down.

Eventually we reached a gradual climb through the valley and after a lead out from Clas I hit the front and kept the pace on till the aid station. I knew this was the same stupid tactics of previous days, but then I couldn’t compete for Yellow or Polka dot Jerseys anyway. I applied the same tactic from the aid station through to the base of the Col de Vars. Once the road steepened I was left behind by the strongest climbers, but slowly ground my way up to finish in fourth.

We enjoyed lunch in the sun on top of the Col, then descended to the second climb of the day. Steven dropped his chain on the descent and believing he was okay the group continued on. As we’d discover on the lead in to the Col d’Izoard he wasn’t too pleased we’d not eased up more. I’d happened to pull of the front shortly before he re-caught the group, he thought I’d been attacking. As it was my aim was simply to get to the bottom of the final climb fast and see what happens.

Legs numb from the work so far I had nothing for this climb. It was brutal with stretches in excess of 10%, bottom gear stuff. I ground my way up again, but couldn’t chase, it was only seeing Christine a switchback behind me that spurred me on to the top and a second fourth place of the day. Exhausted, I took my time before descending with Douglas.

The normal 12 hour rule had been waved for the day if you wanted to swim. I debated, I was tired, but Epic Camp was about the training. The points wouldn’t get me yellow as Steven had committed himself to a 6K swim with sets for extra points. I ended up in the pool at quarter to six and slogged out 3km without much enthusiasm. As it was with only Steven and I swimming at least 3K we were the only ones to gain bonus points; Christine had gone to the pool, but getting out after 2K meant no points. I moved into second place on yellow, a huge 10.5 points behind Steven.

Back to the hotel in time for dinner I was exhausted. I had one more task to do, having taken responsibility for the points spreadsheet from John. Between courses I totalled up the days scorings and the KOM competition. Zach dominated in the mountains, but Clas sits only a single point behind him, plenty to play for there. Steven’s lead in Yellow seems insurmountable at this point.

Finally the day finished with a briefing in the hotel bar. Tomorrow we ride up the Alpe D’Huez, have a run race at the top, then ride back again; everyone needs to swim this time for camp completion. Zach was in Polka Dot again and Steven in yellow. And I was in Green! Finally I had a jersey after so much effort, my work on the front had paid off.

Another big day tomorrow and I’m in Green. Time to sleep.

I came into Epic Camp at a new level of bike fitness and spent the first day testing this. Tactically foolish and in opposition to my objective of controlling my effort. We drove to the start of the first ride, 120km to Embrun with a Col or two between us and our destination. Starting strongly I kept near the front; once Douglas threw in a little effort I raised the pace all the way to the first aid station. Camp always starts out too hard, we’ll settle into it.

Despite the power meter’s warnings, it was fun. I tried to keep the pressure on, holding a little back as the first King of the Mountain was still to come. Steven and I took turns on the front – tactically foolish. An early jump by Steven did nothing to shake the group, we reached the bottom of the climb together. I held in, but couldn’t stick with the repeated attacks, ultimately dropping back to fifth.

A regroup and onto the reverse of the first climb on the Embrunman course. My head encountered a wasp on route, but I didn’t have time to worry about that, I needed to pull myself up to the main group after the descent. Once there I pulled away with Zach, one of the strongest climbers here, and we pushed a solid pace up the climb. With no more points there was less pressure to race and time for a photo stop at the summit. Christine caught up with us and led much of the roller coaster descent that followed.

Not everyone made it to town in one piece – a crash a short way back from us involving Douglas and Steven, left Steven’s bike in bad shape and forced him into the van. Fortunately the damage to the bike was repairable and Steven escaped relatively unscathed. The first day was proving eventful.

After lunch we headed back in to town to register for the race. I cruised up after the main group, under no pressure, an easy ride in my running shoes. Then I clipped a tiny curb and followed with an impression of superman; flying over my handlebars and skidding on the ground. A favourite jersey from kona ruined and road rash on hands and elbow. Adrenaline flowing I rushed to registration where I learned the main group had an accident at the same point. I wasn’t the only stupid one!

So many accidents, so early in camp; lots of waiting to register and get everything sorted. I have to confess I wasn’t that keen to run or swim, but if I wanted to be in contention for a jersey they had to happen. Mercifully the sets were kept simple and late in the day run and swim were completed.

Leaving us with the trip to our Internet-free Gite and a late dinner to deal with. No jersey today! Clas took yellow, Zach Polka Dot and Paul Green for embodying the Epic ethos by running first thing. Steven laid the seeds of an idea to grab yellow, a bold two hour run the following day two’s race. Tough, but worth considering in pursuit of a jersey?

Day 2 – Racing and Motivation

An antihistamine ensured a good night’s sleep. I woke feeling a better. I’d ladid everything out the night before, so it didn’t take long to get ready and rush through breakfast. There was a lack of enthusiasm in the group as we milled around in transition, bikes were quickly setup and without much to do we moaned about all the preparation involved. Still, there was no backing out and I felt no pressure to perform.

Somehow, in the confusion of where the start actually was, Douglas and I ended up at the back of the swim. It added to the low pressure of the race. Based on reports from the front it ensured we missed the worst of the melee. I jogged into the water and settled into a relaxed swim; I swam wide, gradually working my way from the back. I arrived in transition in a reasonable time or at least assumed so not having started my watch.

Transition was slow. I put on mitts to give extra cushioning for my road rash and took my time to ensure I was properly prepared. The bike starts straight into the first climb so I pushed hard, moving through the field. Slowly I worked my way up, passing a few of the other Campers on the way. Reaching the plateau the course undulated and I continued to make progress until the descent. A little unnerved by my minor crash and not being the best of descenders, I held back. Watching athletes I’d easily passed on the ascent go flying by was frustrating.

I bided my time until the flat, then the best time trial effort I could manage on a road bike. I pushed past people and discovered the final 10K wasn’t as flat as expected – a few rollers sat between me and transition. There was no let up, I wanted to bike hard as I doubted the run would be up to much.

The run course was relatively flat with a lot of it on soft surfaces; perfect given my desire to avoid injury. My focus was on practicing good run form and not aggravate my calf any further. Slowly I moved my way through the field and also through the Epic Campers. There were points for placing in the race, better not to give many away. I misjudge the finish and had to hold my final surge far longer than expected, when it came the line was a relief.

No idea of time, no idea of place, but fourth Epic Camper to finish. I was pleased with my cycling, bar the descent, and also that I’d run. It lacked speed, but I’d held together and come out of it in good shape. Technique work is working.

After lunch a few of us rode back up to our accommodation – 10km of climbing with 750m of gain. I was feeling reasonably good so opened the pace out; no points on offer I kept the effort on and had an enjoyable climb. Once we’d made it back Steven headed out on his two hour run for the Yellow Jersey, I’d already decided it wasn’t for me.

How much do I want a jersey? I knew it would be tough, but perhaps it’s more than I expected. Strong climbers and athletes willing to turn themselves inside-out for it. I might have survived a two hour run, but I promised myself I wouldn’t risk run injury on this camp. Perhaps the long game will pay off. There are big days to come and a lot of tough riding ahead.

Instead, this afternoon I relaxed, blogged and got myself a massage.

Tomorrow

A huge day of cycling to Briancon with the Col de Vars and the Col D’Izoard on route. Based on experience so far it’s going to be a long day in the saddle. We’ll warm-up with a run of course and if I’m fast enough I may be able to swim too.

Bring the group together and conversation quickly turns to tough days of training and tougher days of racing. When Steven and I met at the airport we were trading stories in minutes. In a quiet coffee shop in a corner of Terminal five we caught up on life since Lanzarote. Discussion drifted round our respective experience with new run technique, walking in races, coaching and our thoughts for the camp ahead. It was good to be back in this world dedicated to athletic improvements.

His first Camp blog may have raised questions about his potential, but Steven still has the Yellow Jersey mentality. Anyone chasing that has a competition on their hands. With Clas in attendance I know the Polka Dot Jersey is a battle out of my leagues. Leaving the Green to contend for, the coaches choice, requiring a heroic effort in the days ahead. A Contador style early attack on our Alpe D’Huez day?

Four camps, no jersey. How much am I willing to suffer to stop that?

Arriving at camp early is a relaxed affair; casual breakfast and bike build, long conversations and a chance to meet and greet fellow athletes properly. Secretly eyeing everyone up, trying to judge how much of a threat they really represent; they all look fit and they all tell you they’re not. The next few days will show just who is and isn’t competing. Everyone is here and it looks like a good group, a strong mix of veterans and first timers.

An afternoon spin confirmed that bike and legs were in working order, though small creaks and twinges leave me with paranoia that they’re not. That was it for the day, relax.

Fully assembled we headed to a local restaurant and proceeded to eat too much, or at least I proceeded to eat too much. A good meal to start the camp is tradition, but I don’t want to follow my usual routine of gaining weight; I declined the offer of left over pizza.

The evening was closed with the camp introduction and most importantly the points game. Similar to previous years it’s built around points for minimum units of training – 30km of cycling, 50 minutes of running or 3km of swimming; then bonuses on top, competitions and daily minimums to achieve. If you’re chasing the Yellow Jersey it’s simple – if you can train more, do.

The game is in my head. I’m tempted. Steven and I returned to our room discussing the opportunities to tack on and gain points. This could be dangerous.

Tomorrow:

Camp officially starts with a ride to Embrun. We will be swimming and running later, but details are sketchy. Then register and rack up for the Embrunman Short Course Triathlon the following day. Throughout camp I aim to keep a daily blog, but tomorrow’s mountain top lodgings may make this difficult.