"I’m crying, but they are tears of happiness"

If you read my last blog, you may remember it was about forgetting speed and statistics and enjoying the ride, smiles rather than miles. I guess you could say that what you’re about to read is hypocritical or perhaps it’s just a good, balanced contrast. Or perhaps the smiles can also be a result of figures, a speed or a distance. Regardless of all that, here goes…………….

 It’s 8am on 4^th August 2021. I’m on my knackered old spin bike in the shed, following a GCN training video, some short, sharp intervals to wake me up. I’ve had the spin bike for about 8 years and it was secondhand when I got it. I was (and I still am) inspired by Graeme Obree, I specifically remember the 1994 Channel 4 documentary “Battle of the Bikes”. It documents the competition between Obree and Chris Boardman at the height of their success .  It includes footage of Obree on a homemade set up in his back yard, while Boardman is way ahead of his time in regards to the science behind training, using high tech gadgetry . Although I admire Boardman, I’ll always be more of an Obree, make do with what I’ve got, just leave the washing machine alone (if you know, then you know). The spin bike replicates the real world well enough for me, you won’t find me on any digital training platforms anytime soon.

Back to the shed and the sweat is dripping from my wrists like water from a leaky tap, forming salty puddles on the tongue and groove floor. An hour early earlier, water was leaving my body via my tear ducts as I sobbed tears of happiness at the beautiful photo below, a photo of Kyle (step-son) and my parents. I have recently heard a hug being described as something simple. It may be true, a hug may be a simple thing but it can have a huge impact, one that Graham Dilks caught perfectly...........

Kyle had just completed his first TT (time trial) at the age 13 and had headed over to family and friends to celebrate his immediate 10 mile personal best.  If you don’t know what a time trial is, it’s basically getting from point A to point B as fast as you can. After years of waiting in lay-bys, village halls and the family car, as well as helping me marshal at time trials and supporting other riders at longer races, Kyle decided he wanted to give a TT a go. In no way had I pushed him to do it, but after encouragement from many people in Great Yarmouth Cycling Club he wanted to give it a go.

I used to teach Bikeability (what was Cycling Proficiency) so from an early age I taught Kyle those skills to teach him road awareness and the basics, “Kyle, people sometimes do stupid things, just do what you need to do to keep safe”.  Funny enough, that piece of advice wasn’t in the Bikeability training, but it’s a good principle all the same. He loves cycling, whether it’s jumping on his bike to see the swans in the local park, going to see family and friends or getting his cycling gear on and doing some reps of a local circuit he’s created, he’s out there. And now with my guidance (and most likely my influence) he wanted to give a TT a go, good on him!

I had decided that the GYCC (Great Yarmouth Cycling Club) 10 mile TT course would be a cruel introduction, it’s a sporting course, therefore it’s got hills, well I say hills, more like bumps. It’s got a T junction, a roundabout and a left turn. I know this course more than any other, every pothole, every dodgy bit of tarmac, where to really push and it’s my favourite course. It’s a bit tricky for anyone, let alone a 13 year old on his first TT. The day before writing this part of the blog, I rode a 10 mile TT on the course. I always split it into 3 sections, therefore after looking at the wind forecast I can predict where on the course it will be ”easier” or harder . I had predicted a head wind in the last third and it was awful, I actually loosened my brakes while riding as I thought one of my wheels was rubbing as it was so hard to get any decent momentum. For Kyle to ride this, it would be a nasty introduction. 

As Kyle and myself are GYCC members, it felt like I was cheating on GYCC to decide on the flat Godric 10 mile TT course for Kyle to test his legs. It heads straight out along the A143 for 5 miles, round a roundabout and back for 5 miles, one turn, simple!

Kyle had been looking forward to this for ages. The Godric TT the week before had been cancelled due to heavy rain and reduced visability, Kyle was disappointed but he understood that safety is paramount.

The day of the TT came and Kyle couldn’t wait. He was nervous, but excited. He tried to explain his feelings the best that he could. But I knew how he was feeling, I had been there countless times, those feelings before a TT or anything where you have a number on your anatomy somewhere, when speed and time counts.

Kyle is confident and very able at riding on his own, even still, I told him that I would ride with him on the TT, shadowing his every move on this busy(ish) main road. I checked this was okay with Godric Cycling Club beforehand and they were fine with it, we would ride as a 2-up, basically 2 riders together as opposed to the traditional lone rider in TTs.

In the days/weeks  leading up to the day, Kyle had asked some family and friends to come over to watch. Come the evening of the TT he had an entourage, a crowd of well-wishers on the course, cheering, jumping and taking photos. 

 On the way to the TT, we drove round the course for some re-assurance for Kyle of where to go, although it couldn’t have been easier to remember.  I pointed out the start and finish and the green sign at the turn where I said I would go infront. We got to where the riders park and sorted the bikes out from the back of my car, I told Kyle to go and sign on, the look of worry appeared upon his face at the details he would need to remember, so I went with him.

While Kyle was signing on, his very excited sister/my step-daughter, Chloe arrived with a chant of “Whoop Whooop! Go Kyle!!”. If Kyle wasn’t embarrassed, it was a rare opportunity where I was, thanks Chloe!

Kyle, Jonny Lincoln and myself went for a warm up, Lincoln giving advice and hints which was great as Kyle probably gets fed up of me telling to do things, so instructions from someone else with great Tt knowledge worth alot at this time.“I guess that you’re going to take the front if he’s finding it difficult!?” Lincoln asked me, I laughed and replied with a “No!”, Lincoln Laughed. My theory is, if Kyle was in a singing competition I wouldn’t grab the mic when the song goes up an octave! (Not as if I can sing well anyway!)

I decided it would be a good idea to get Kyle on the A143 before the TT, even if it was just 15 minutes before we were due to start. We went onto the course about a mile from the finish/start line. A lorry passed us and Kyle covered his right ear with his hand, not the best move to which I tactfully informed him that control of the bike was the most important thing. Getting excited he started to sprint then ran out of legs and braked for some reason, “No, don’t break!” I informed him. Pointing out the immediate dangers of this I started to worry about him on here, but there was no need to worry, in the end his riding skills were absolutely fine.

We rolled up to the start line a few minutes early, a fellow rider, Nick Partridge, came over and gave Kyle a fist pump as we waited, a great little gesture for this nervous kid on the start line.

On the grass verge were two stalwarts of the TT scene in the Norfolk/Suffolk area, Lynn Evans and Paul Vergette. Without people like these who help with marshalling, time keeping, the organising behind the scenes of TTs, they simply would never happen. Riding the TT is the easiest part in regards to the time involved.  We chatted on the start line, Kyle didn’t say much, big breaths in and out as his nerves were building. I was nervous too, nervous for Kyle, wondering how he was going to be.

I was 28 when I was in this position.  My first TT was on an old GYCC 10 mile circuit in 2011, in the pre-olympic boom of cycling surrounding the London 2012 Olympics. I had been riding for quite a few years but never in TTs. A friend at the time mentioned to me about doing a TT, so I looked into it.

I remember being warmly welcomed by the club, I thought the bloke on the start line was a bit blunt, but the force of which he fired me of the start line shadowed those thoughts of rudeness.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the man who made me feel like I was a human cannonball was Norman Harlow, GYCC’s Chairman. If you’re reading this and you have started a TT with Norman holding your seatpost and bars, you will know exactly what I mean. I’ve started a TT before and nearly fell at the start line as the person who was supposed to be pushing me off just let go, they definitely needed a lesson from Norman.

Norman is a fountain of knowledge and has been very supportive to both me and now Kyle. When Norman gives advice, you listen. One stand out quote he told me at one club presentation evening was “Jonny, well done. It’s not the winning trophies that is difficult, it’s the keeping them”. Very honest and trustworthy advice from a man who has his name on many GYCC trophies and club records.  Norman was right, keeping these trophies year after year was difficult, painful and monotonous. With fast people in the club breathing down my neck, maintaining my mediocre fitness and speed was achievable for a few years. And for now, those years are over, thankfully. Just enjoy it all a bit more.

Back to the A143 and Lynn gave the obligatory 1 minute and then the 30 second announcements to our start time then counted us down, while giving words of encouragement to Kyle. “5.....4…..3…..2……1…..go!” and off we went, with the rush of adrenalin and a fire in his belly,  Kyle was gone. He had a bit of a gap from me, I caught up with him as he was riding at around 20 mph. We passed his adoring entourage with shouts of encouragement shouting in our ears. After years of Kyle watching the Tour de France and the like with me, this must have felt brilliant. The road starts to climb very slightly, it’s not a hill or even a bump, just the type of incline which you can feel in the legs. Nearing the top of this poor excuse of a climb, Kyle was averaging 19.5mph, a great speed and one that worried me that he couldn’t maintain. On the way to the TT in the car, we talked about times and a good guess of speed, I said to go for a 35 minute time, around a 17mph average.

A week or so before the TT  I had put an old Cat Eye cycling computer on his bike so he could look at his speed and average. While he was riding on his own in the days before the TT, I told him not to copy Froome and stare at it, safety first etc etc, although I’m sure he did look more than I had liked. I remember when I got my first computer from Argos when I was a kid, I had a Raleigh Medale and drafted my dad in his beige Ford Escort to see how fast I could go. The saying, “Do as I say, not as I do” (or did) comes to mind.

Up until today, I knew the front mech (the bit of gadgetry which changes the gears) on his bike wasn’t working great. It was stuck in the middle ring, therefore Kyle couldn’t change into the biggest gear. I purposefully left this while he was riding out and about on his own as I knew he would be going silly speeds. On the morning of the TT I fixed the front mech and stuck into the big ring, which essentially means higher gears and hopefully faster, and he was! 

“Well done Kyle, it flattens out now, knock it up a few gears!” I said at the top of the slight rise as he shoved the shifter. “Fantastic, just keep it going, try and stick keep in those nineteens yeah!” I shouted over the noise of the passing traffic. With continual encouragement and me saying how far we had gone (it’s a lot better than saying how far to go at this point) we were soon at the turn with a 19.3mph average, I passed Kyle and told him to follow me. The visual safety of the marshals at the turn came into view. I had told Kyle on the drive round the course before how we may still have to give way, but we didn’t need to. I looked over my shoulder to see Kyle had taken the inside line, eager to get infront of me after my very quick turn on the front.

We had a clear ride around the roundabout, exiting the roundabout I looked behind to see some cars behind, “Wait for the cars to pass, then you go on the front” I instructed to which he followed and on the front again he was.

I knew the next section would be tricky, it rises slightly like the start and the wind may be a bit in our faces. The poor kid was starting to suffer, he was in pain, his legs wobbling and head dropping. I battled with the urge to help, if you can help anyone, especially your kid, when they’re in pain, you would help yeah?!  I knew that putting my chubby self infront of him I would hide him from the wind and it would be so much easier, but I didn’t. With exclamations of positive words with a sense of guilt, he spun away “Don’t drop down the gears Kyle, I know your legs hurt but just fight it, just think of the track cyclists we were watching this morning!”.

I’ve been teaching Kyle the importance of ignoring the brain, not all the time, but when the body is hurting and how to ignore it, basically the principles of Steve Peter’s Chimp Paradox.

He gets it now, which is great, but when his legs were killing he was flicking down the gears, legs spinning, speed plummeting. It’s an odd feeling to push your body to the extreme, a mental game as much as physical. If you don’t manage the mental side of the pain then you can’t handle the physical, the engine needs a computer, one that doesn’t need to restart, but one that battles on through when all warning signs are flashing. It’s difficult to teach yourself as an adult, even more so a teenager.

Now passed the halfway mark, I was telling Kyle how far he had to go at each mile. Riders who started after us were starting to pass us going the other way, some shouting words of encouragement as they too were managing their chimps. Lincoln passed and shouted, he jokingly said at the start how he wanted to catch us, no chance, although he did put in a huge effort that evening and got a course PB. Some riders passed us, also giving Kyle encouragement.

I pointed out to Kyle earlier in the car beforehand where the marker was for the last mile, a big hay stack.  I had been telling Kyle for a while that a TT isn’t a sprint, it’s as fast as you can go for the given distance, it’s about the average and not the maximum. I told him that the haystacks are the point where you can’t start to build it up and empty the tank of energy, there’s nothing left to lose. “There’s the haystacks Kyle, start to wind it up. A mile left, c’mon, you can do it, give it everything, keep it in those nineteens!!”, “I don’t think I can!” Kyle’s chimp replied.

He was still averaging 19mph as we entered the last mile, I knew he could stick with it. I told him how his entourage would soon be in sight, I looked up and could see Chloe jumping up and down. We passed the family and friends to the sounds of cheers of encouragement.

Kyle was near enough sprinting with his shot of morale boosting energy firmly in his legs, “Nearly there Kyle, you can see the finish, nearly there, you can do it!” I shouted. 

Thanks to Howard Carlos for the photo

We crossed the line and rolled along, I told him how brilliantly he had done and that he had averaged 19.1mph and had a time of 31:35, way quicker than we had anticipated. He punched the air and shouted with squeals of delight, a joyous reaction that I totally understand. We rolled to a stop in a layby as put my arm round him and congratulated him. “I’m crying, but they’re tears of happiness” he said as he wiped away his tears from under his fake Oakley's I had given him.

Other riders stopped nearby, the typical “Well done, how did you get on?!” comments followed. We peddled back towards the car and Kyle’s entourage, Kyle still punching the air with excitement.

We stopped and chatted with everyone, I was chatting with Dawn (my wife) telling her how well he had done, Kyle was hugging his sister and being very vocal, I then commented “Blimey! Anybody would think it was the Olympics!!” I then realised what a stupid thing I had said. This was Kyle’s Olympics! This was his big achievement, his success.  Small (define as you will) achievable goals, and this was his, whatever speed or time he done, this was Kyle’s achievable goal.

The day after Kyle’s TT, Sky Brown, a 13 year old girl representing Great Britain in Skateboarding at the Tokyo Olympics, won a bronze medal. After the ceremony, her father stated “We don’t want Sky to be defined by the Olympics”.  Too late for that, she already is. Although Sky has been very successful in the skateboarding world for a few years, this is the pinnacle, a moment that she will always be defined and measured by. And now she wants to aim to represent GB in both Skateboarding and Surfing in Paris 2024. Some may think it’s amazing, personally, I think it’s a worry.

The highs of success can be followed by extreme lows. In terms of cycling, I’m thinking about Mark Cavendish and Victoria Pendleton, both cycling legends who have experienced extreme highs and horrendous lows. When things don’t go as planned, the times that follow those incredible success stories can have devastating effects, not physical injuries but mental ones. The same principles can be used in all sports, music, dancing, anything that is based upon scores, numbers, sales or figures.

As adults, it can be difficult to manage the mundane highs and significant lows that this rich tapestry of life can throw at us, let alone when young and coverage of these success’ (or the possible lack of them) that are in the media spotlight for the whole world to see.  I just wonder about the effects of these so-called success stories has on younger people.

A few days after the TT, I wanted to make sure that Kyle didn’t get carried away with thinking that every ride is a TT. As a result, I planned an evening 28 mile ride to Southwold, the return leg would be in the dark, Kyle’s first ride in the dark and a bit of a silly adventure, not worrying about numbers. We watched an adult Buzzard teaching it’s young how not to perch on a telegraph line, bought some courgettes from an honesty box, got wet in a downpour, watched Hares and Munjac Deer in the fields as we passed. On the way backn home, due to a communication breakdown between us at a crossroads, Kyle turned into me as I was going ahead. Kyle landed on the deck with an almighty big graze on his right knee. Now he had the pain of road rash to deal with. Credit where credit’s due, after some encouragement and me confessing to ending up over the bonnet of a car a few weeks ago and still rode a TT after it, he jumped, well, hobbled back on his bike, gritted his teeth and dug in and spun home.

Back to Kyle’s TT, I’m glad his Olympics was on the A143 in Norfolk on a warm, still August evening, “This is the best evening ever” he proclaimed after the finish, and he didn’t even have to walk 500 miles, he just rode 10 miles as fast as he could. Good on you kid, good on you!