Witney 'Smash-Fest' and MTB Mud Surfing

Mountain bikers fake tan and bloody cold feet

After a rest week where I have done absolutely nothing on a bike since the spinning on Tuesday (thick fog later in the week put paid to any thoughts of riding to work) on Saturday I went out with the Witney Grupetto. After some heavy rain in the morning the roads were muddy and very greasy and required concentration the whole way to avoid any silly crashes. This ride is never an easy day in the saddle because quite a few use it as their weekly race. This weeks was even faster than usual with a few riders from Oxford dropping by to dish out some hurt. I ended up with just over 70 miles on the clock but they must have been 70 of the hardest miles I have done in a long time! On the climbs I was Ok for the majority but once the road flattened out the pace ramped up and I was fighting to stay on the back knowing if I lost touch out would be out the back door and have a long solo ride home! I'm not ashamed to admit two of the people dishing out this pain were two girls from Oxford who both looked far too comfortable at the end when the regulars were suffering as much as I was. Safe to say, when I got home I was fucked and pretty incoherent, much to the delight of an impatient Emma.



Great...

On Sunday it was pissing it down when I got up so I treated myself to a massive full English breakfast (still telling myself I owe myself some calories after yesterday) and promised I would hit the turbo in the afternoon. The weather started to clear and after watching the Paris-Nice prologue I was itching to avoid the turbo so decided to go and get muddy. The planned session was two sets of 10mins at race pace followed by 15mins at 80% separated by 15mins of recovery, all off road to replicate racing. The tracks were very muddy and slippery which kept it interesting, I was caked in mud almost instantly! After the intervals I managed to get lost on the way home ending up at the end of 10mins of single track only to be faced with a sign informing me of a loose bull in the field between me and the road. After negotiating that, I followed a bridleway which led to a deep river and no bridge, so further retracing of steps required. After all of this it was getting late so I headed back on the road to avoid having to ride in the dark. It's lucky the nights are getting longer because it was nearly 6 when I finally got in; I was originally hoping to get home in time for the end of the rugby! At this stage my feet were soaked and the strong wind quickly put me in agony. My toes felt like they were about to fall off and all I could think of was getting home and getting in the shower. Even just taking my socks off in the house felt amazing although my toes were still completely white and wooden for about 15mins! In fact they are still tingling now 5 hours after I got in! I couldn't face washing my bike so it will probably be a heap of rust when I go to use it next! The joys of being a mountain biker!