Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge 2007

Well, maybe hell isn't so bad after all....

As I certainly expected to go there on Saturday. As most of you will know I once again made the crazy decision to compete in the 160km ride around Lake Taupo less than three weeks after returning in the country. In fact, this attempt was even crazier than in 2004, as not only had I not been on a bike in four months, but I also been filling myself out on Argentinian steak and Malbec and had a base fitness of zero.

And the early signs were not good. Picking up the bike on the day we flew back into Auckland from Santiago, the 11km ride back to Rae & Tom's place on the North Shore was much more difficult than it really should have been. But I toughed it out like the stubborn GrandMaster you know me to be, getting on the bike in each of the first five days we were back. But despite the belligerence, I was having serious doubts that maybe I was going too far this time. Last weekend was a big test, heading up to the top of the Waitakeres and back to complete a 100km ride, and though it was in no way easy (the body was very sore for the second half of the ride), completing it did help to repair the confidence. I also managed to follow this up with a 60km ride on the Sunday, hoping that I would have been able to convert 160km over two days the preceding weekend into 160km in one day a week later. Of course, distractions didn't help the preparations either. While it was great having Mike & Iris up for the weekend, the seven pints I had at Galbraiths the night before my 100km probably wasn't. And I am sure Lance never had four pints, a large glass of wine and a dram the Wednesday night before the big event. But then Lance didn't have Tom to lead him astray either....

So driving down to Taupo on Friday, there was no disguising the trepidation I was feeling about the next day. Though I did have the wisdom gained from the training-less ride from three years a go - food, food, and more food. So the reunion with Stu and the rest of the Clan that night was interspersed with quantities of pasta not normally seen outside a Sicilian wedding. Of course, we also couldn't break with training habits - Stu, Steven and I enjoying three beers as we put the legs up (Stu bringing me some choice selections of NZ beers that have brewed their way onto the shelves since I have been away).

After going to bed with the reassuring knowledge that Jim had told us that we wouldn't have any rain the next day, it was somewhat disconcerting hearing the sound of rain pitter-pattering on the roof once I had turned the drone of the alarm off at 6am. But the show must go on, and we dragged ourselves out of bed and started each of our routines for getting prepared - all very different. Stevens banana and maple syrup on toast for breakfast; Stu, always one for extremes, just taking with him 15 shots of leppin squeezy for sustenance of the ride; and me trying to stuff the contents of a Pak'n'Save pallet into my back pockets. After the usual fluffing about, it was of somewhat a relief to us all that we could put the jackets away, with the drizzle having pitter-pattered itself away elsewhere leaving what turned out to be perfect conditions for riding - nice a cool and dead calm.

Cruising down the hill to join the other 10,000 riders at the start line, little did we know that the Clan Father himself was knocking on our door wondering where we had got to. Fortunately I am just a member of the Clan, and not a son of our patriarch, and not the one who said Dave would have left to go down to the start line already. But I didn't have much luck down there either. Obviously not wanting me to be sitting on their wheel around the Lake, Stu and Steven gave me the slip and I found myself heading towards the back of the queue with the type of riders I would normally pay scorn on, but who I was now hoping wouldn't leave me for dead at the first climb.

After crawling up the start line, the wait was finally over and the ride had begun. The first 20kms is generally always the toughest - a slow but consistent climb of 300m while your heart rate hasn't had the chance to settle yet. And though I wasn't charging along, it was very frustrating being surrounded by other riders who didn't understand the benefits of trying to ride in a group or using the downhills. Nevertheless, no one was more surprised than myself to see that at the 80km mark only 2hr40mins has passed on the clock. I wasn't feeling great, but I wasn't near passing out like three years previous, and I also had the knowledge that the second half is easier than the first. And over the second half I seemed to feel stronger and stronger. After the climb over the Kuratau Hill, there is only the infamous Hatepe Hill left and a lot of flat riding around the eastern bays of Lake Taupo. The key here is find a good group and I managed to imbed myself in the middle of a huge pack that, while it wasn't going, made that section of the ride a hell of a lot easier. With 30kms to go and only Hatepe Hill as the only challenge left, I brought out the secret weapons - sugar and caffeine. I knocked the top off my bottle of flat coke and shot back my caffeine gel, and they certainly did the trick, as I felt better going up Hatepe that the time when I did have a training base, passing plenty of riders who must have had hours of training over me. After rewarding myself with a Mars Bar at the top, I let the sugar and caffeine take me home, finding a new source of energy and charging home over the last 25kms at nearly 40kph. Charging over the final 2kms, I got plenty of stares from riders I was passing as I was practically chuckling to myself, incredulous at how good I felt.

Crossing the line in the ridiculous time of 5hr18min, I can't remember having felt so good at the end of such an event. And I still can't believe it now. That is only 10 minutes slower than the first time I did the ride with months of training under my belt, and nearly half an hour faster than my previous effort with no training - though that time I collapsed on the grass and couldn't move, this time I could have jumped back on the bike (though I think that was more in spirit than in body). Of course, the conditions were definitely a factor. You couldn't help but hear other riders around the finish talking about how they had had a personal bests. But this in no way should take away from the achievements of my fellow Clan members. After five previous attempts, Steven and Dave both managed to not only break the 6 hour mark, but smash it. Steven bettering his previous best time by 50 minutes -coming in at 5hr12min, and the Clan Father making it in at 5hr38min - I wouldn't mind being able to do that at 69! But Stu was the star of the day for me, flying around in a blistering 4hr46min.

So there were plenty of grins around the dinner table that night, and where all the talk is usually of whether or not each of us will do it next year, it was how we could go faster next year. Though it would be hard to believe we could get conditions any better. And to celebrate, we told many tales from the course over some more beers and a little whiskey until the early hours of the morning.

Leaving Taupo the next day on a bright and hot sunday (there were a few sighs of relief that we weren't riding out on that morning), I paused to think that I will be back here in just over three months for entirely greater challenge - the Ironman. Now that I've got my cycling legs back, I just need to do the same for the swimming and the running. I've still got a fair bit of weight to lose though, and fitness to gain. But I can't dismiss the huge lift this ride has done for my confidence.