Eaten alive by JFW

Jim left me well cooked yesterday (https://www.strava.com/activities/15475420410).

Well cooked but alive.

I stuffed myself during the day. I wasn’t conscious of it yesterday but today I realised that’s what I was doing. Stuffing myself like a turkey. 

(I might be getting my metaphor wrong as I believe you normally stuff the dish and then cook it, and I’m going I was first cooked and then stuffed but bare with me in this one. It is not the first time I get my metaphors wrong)

I don’t know if stuffed turkey is a dish JFW likes but he surely ate me, alive, today.

Look at the profile of the route. That’s a revenge profile. A profile that says I’m going to hit your legs in the first climb. I’ll go to your throat in the second one (I was coughing so heavily at the top that I had to make efforts to not throw up. Didn’t want to ruin JFW’s fest). I’ll eat you alive after the third one.

It was easy for him. The third climb was so steep I needed to use my hands to hold at branches to not fall. I was defenseless.

From that moment he just had the best time. Devouring every piece of me and my soul one kilometer at the time. 

I knew I had one more hour of suffering. 

That was because I listened and took note when he said we were going to run two hours. 

But he was making the route as we were going. I sensed this was going to last a bit longer.

Especially when he asked how we were doing in time and I told him we had been running for 1 hour 40 minutes. 

He changed direction immediately and suggested we had 40 more minutes to run.

It was a whole hour. 

Enough time for him to finish his digestion. 

Ps. I find it funny how it turns out I had my best 400m time of the season in this run. 1m 14s, one more proof that I’m a sprinter.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/15487629357/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Half a marathon before breakfast with Jim

 

That is for Jim of course. I made sure I had a proper breakfast before heading to the Roehampton Café.

I know all too well that if I don’t have a proper breakfast there is no way I can survive a run like this. I’d be bonking massively, probably before finishing the first lap.

Not Jim. He was solid. Keeping the pace there. Not too fast, but not easy either. Not killing me, but not giving room for me to aim for a sprint finish. Challenging enough to make me happy with my performance at the end but relaxed enough so we had great moments of chat (none of them running uphill in case you were wondering). 

The promised coffee and almond croissant at the end was very welcome. 

The brunch (third breakfast for me) later with the family was fantastic.

In the early afternoon I sat on my sofa, closed my eyes, and one hour later tried to convince everyone in the family I didn’t sleep a one hour siesta. 

No one believed me.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/15475420410

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Back to trail running in the hills with JFW

The farthest I have run this year. 

I begged we run slow as I knew the impact of LEL was still affecting my body, a cold sore in my lower lip is a very reliable clue.

To his credit he ran slow all day, chatting all the way. I just managed to match his pace.

When we were running for about an hour he asked how I was doing and I answered I was doing just fine. That I wouldn’t mind running another hour or two as far as we kept the same pace. That was about half of my talk for that whole hour. The rest was him talking and talking about things I didn’t understand (limited blood in my brain affects my capacity to understand English, or any other language for that matter).

My answer was an honest one though. I was talking very little but with honest words. Until the “big” “climb” in the middle of the run came. About 20 minutes after I felt so optimistic. By the time we got to the top of the steep section I was done. Properly done. More than honest, those were delusional words.

That meant I went even quieter than in the first hour. JFW kept chatting away, saying “good morning team” to everyone we crossed paths with. I wasn’t even saying good morning to any of them. Politeness gets out of the window when I’m tired. And I was very tired.

JFW noticed my silence and inferred my struggle. He wasn’t tired enough so he was polite (JFW was polite to me!!!) and asked whether I prefer to go straight to the car or to take a longer route. 

I broke my vow of silence to just say “I had enough now”. 

We went straight. Which meant downhill. Which was great despite feeling in my feet every single irregularity in the ground. 

I thought we were about to get to the car when I saw a “climb” in front of us. In the profile is the last one but at the moment I didn’t know it was the last one. I couldn’t recognise it from previous runs (like 90% of the route), it looked long and steep for me. 

That felt hard. JFW asking me questions. Me questioning why I was doing this and forcing myself to keep running. I wanted to avoid having to walk at any price. My arrogance almost killed me. 

JFW kept talking all the way to the car, in the car all the way to Cobham, all the time while we were having a coffee at Gail’s, all the way back home. 

By the time we were arriving home my Garmin watch showed a message I had never seen before. “Higher than normal stress detected. Start a breathing exercise to relax?”.

While JFW was talking I tried to take a picture of the message. Between nodding to him to pretend I was listening and having to take my phone out but the time I was ready to take the picture the message was gone. Anyway, I found a picture on the internet, that will do the trick.

I am amazed how great these Garmin devices are. I don’t know if the stress it was referring to was the run or JFW constant chatting, but I got home, did a short breathing exercise (I’d never, ever, would do that in front of JFW) and fell asleep immediately.

Amazing what an hour of no hearing anyone talking to you can do to reduce your stress levels.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/15410834903

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Sumners Ponds with Javier, Nestor and Quico

Probably one of the easiest wins of my cycling career. All down to strategy and race craft.

I knew Javier, Nestor and Quico are strong riders so, when they said they wanted to ride one of the Kingston Wheelers route I offered them a menu of a short and flat ride to Windsor, a short ride to Tanhouse and a decent ride to Sumners Ponds.

Apparently they don't like cinnamon buns, nor are they interested in short rides to a farm. They chose Sumners Ponds. They took the bait.

I gave them all types of details about the Esher sprint as we were riding out. Not that they needed them, we were coming back through a different way. I just was building with them a reputation of a fair competitor. 

We rode all the hills at a friendly, chatty pace. Being tired from the (skimmed) LEL was an adequate excuse. Saving my legs was the real reason.

I saw Javier taking a cheeky sprint at the top of the last ramp before the coffee stop. I duly took note of who to mark at the sprint. Maybe there is something in the name of Javier that makes great sprinters.

At Sumners Ponds I went for a latte (and a scone with cream and jam). I didn't feel the need to disclose the effect caffeine has in my performance. They didn't disclose the effect the cakes they devoured had either so it was all a level playing field. 

We took on Box Hill as the final climb. I thought it was a nicer hill to show off than Juniper. Nice stop at the top to admire the scenery (the real reason being to recover my legs) and the first challenge appeared.

My di2 ran out of battery, I was stuck in the small chainring. A bit of a setback if you want to take the Horton roundabouts sprint. 

But you know me. A man of infinite resources and capable of coming out with a winning strategy even in the most adverse circumstances.

As soon as we left Epson I told them "this section is a bit tricky to navigate with so many roundabouts, let me lead the way" (notice the detail that I didn't mention how many roundabouts we had to pass. genius touch).

What a clever move. They all agreed thinking that would be me killing myself at the front. 

And I pretended to work hard. At the very least I was pedalling fast. But I was taking every roundabout with care, showing them the way. Making sure they got the impression the line was still far away. Looking back to see who was still in contention. A bit worried seeing all three were still there. Javier very well situated at the back of the group. Not looking good for me. 

I did the same in the last roundabout. Approached it with care, got out of it without pushing it too hard. I knew there was a slight downhill section before the finish line. It was critical to keep them thinking the sprint was still far away. I knew they were ready to sprint and I wouldn't beat any of them on my small chainring.

About 30 metres from the line I increased my cadence, looked back and I saw a gap opening. I took them completely by surprise. 

I looked back again and I saw I had time to celebrate. Arms in the air, smile in my face, satisfaction in my soul. Nice and easy win.

They complained saying I wasn't clear explaining where the line was but I put it down to the typical Spanish bad loser attitude. How quickly they had forgotten how fair I was explaining all the details about the Esher sprint.

Can't wait to ride with my British friends, they are much better at losing sprints.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/15387980356 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Punchbowl via Tilford

 Totally out of tune with myself.

I felt fresh after a rest day yesterday. I didn’t have any problem starting at the front, riding next to Bidders. It felt steady and easy. I was feeling optimistic.

My Garmin said we had four climbs today (yeah, I know, you look at the profile and you wonder how Garmin classifies climbs. Me too 🤷‍♀️).

The first one was Hogsback and it felt unusually “easy”. Soon I felt myself at the front with Bidders. I stood on the bike and pushed a bit. I see now I got a PB and I wasn’t really trying. Mostly because I don’t know where the segment starts. 

So I was feeling optimistic for the second climb. All the way to Punchbowl. As soon as I recognised from what side we were tackling the climb I did what I had to do. Got a gel, drank some water and soon moved to the front setting a pace aiming to take me as fast as possible to the top.

That lasted 5 minutes. At that point Bidders passed me. Behind him Rupert, GC Denis, Dan and Nigel. Not sure in what order. At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead.

A latte and a scone with cream and jam at the coffee stop did the usual trick. Caffeine kicked in and started to feel great. 

Didn’t have any problem hitting the front again. And, believe me, this is very unusual for me. I was back to enjoying the ride.

Third climb (according to Garmin) came. A short one, only 1km. Again, I moved to the front and set a pace that felt sustainable. 

And it was. Got to the top with Bidders on my wheel, hearing his gears changing, which is never good news, But it was a good effort, it felt good (looking at Strava now I matched my PB to the second), I was optimistic again.

The fourth climb was Coombe Lane. Rupert got a gap. That was perfect. Something to aim for. I immediately moved to the front and set a pace aiming to bring Rupert back slowly. 

That lasted 2 minutes. Bidders, again, passed me. Behind him GC Denis, Dan and Nigel. Again, not sure in what order. (let me copy and paste my words from above) “At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead”.

Creme Brulé, who had been doing 25 (!!!!) hill reps up and down Combe Lane rode with me and dropped me like a stone in the steep part. 

All alarms went off in my brain. Get to the back of the group and don’t get anywhere near the front. Get yourself ready for the final sprint at Esher.

From Combe Lane it is all flat or downhill until the Esher ramps. Good opportunity to recover.

The approach to the Esher sprint was perfect for my interests. Creme Brulé led the whole way and I was towards the back keeping an eye on everyone. 

After the third bump I thought this was my sprint to lose. I was in the best position and breathing was relaxed, legs were feeling fine.

I waited for my distance and launched the sprint from the back. 

Dodging it massively. 

I attacked standing on the bike. Somehow, suddenly, my bicycle was up in the air. I feared I was going to crash in front of everyone, embarrassment being my main worry. I sat back.

I stood up again. I guess I was trying to gain speed, but who knows what I was trying to do. I seem to remember that I also tried to get in better gear. 

To no avail. Rupert passed me like a missile and took the sprint by a country mile. 

I believe I was second, but let me copy and paste my words again. “At that point I was blowing up. Incapable of paying attention beyond my own surprise. I had to slow down massively. I was dead”.

A couple of hours later I am still dead. Still surprised. Totally out of tune with myself.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/14941711490/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Quebrantahuesos 2025 6:43:28

I am very, very, very disappointed with this ride.

I was aiming to better my time from 2019, 6:30:03 and finished in 6:43:28. I was 13 minutes and 25 seconds slower.

I have a good explanation (aka. excuse) for this result, and I’ll write it down for the record so I remember what happened. But let me reiterate that, even with this explanation, I am very, very disappointed. I hope you understand me if you continue reading.

I lost one bottle at km 30. I hit a pothole and saw it flying. I stopped for it but couldn’t find it. It was the bottle that was still full. I was drinking from the other one.

Being the unconscious that I am, I didn’t think much of it. I will need to stop to refill my bottle but that’s not a big deal. 

I was feeling fine and I was thinking I was having a great ride. Looking at the numbers now I see I was right. At the top of Marie Blanque I was matching my times from 2019.

But there was where I made a huge mistake. 

I passed the feed station at the top of Marie Blanque without stopping and only when I was descending did I realize I had no water. Huge mistake because I knew it. I even told myself you have to stop to fill this bottle. I don’t know what I was thinking. I never end surprising myself how stupid I can be. 

The next feed station was at km 127. That was a whole hour without water. 

Worst of all is I still thought I was doing great. I protected myself in the middle of a group most of that hour. Something I’m not afraid to say I am very skilled at. When Portalet climb started I kept my own pace. I was passing lots of cyclists. Yes, I was thirsty, but I wasn’t feeling that bad. 

When I got to the feed station I drank all I could, filled my bottle and continued feeling I was doing great.

But I wasn’t. 

And water was not an excuse anymore. In the second half of the Portalet an spectator offered me a bottle in exchange for mine. Perfect timing, mine was empty. Didn’t mind mine was a better bottle than his. It was a great deal. 

I continued my merry climbing completely convinced I was doing very, very well. Don’t get me wrong, by the time you are in the second half of Portalet “doing very, very well” means you are just surviving with a sustainable pace, but I “knew” I was going to be faster than 6h:30m.

By the time I got to the top of Portalet, for the second time in the same ride, I realised how stupid I was. There was no way I was going to get from the top of Portalet to the finish in an hour. I knew I was not going to better my PB from 6 years ago.

At the top of Hoz de Jaca, a spectator gave me a bottle full of water. It was very welcome, spectators at Quebrantahuesos are amazing, but my destiny was sealed. 6:43:28

I am, of course, not happy with that time, but there are two things that really disappoint me. The mistake I made at the top of Marie Blanque and how mistaken my feeling was climbing Portalet. 

I know the depth of this disappointment is a measure of the unrealistic idea that I have of myself. But I can help it. Next year I’ll be back.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/14869505706/ 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

KW - Amberley

 Didn’t have coffee in the morning. Didn’t think I needed it. 

In my mind we were going to start riding easy and slowly progress into a steady ride. 

In fact I said it out loud as we were starting to ride. “Let’s start easy”.

Next thing I know The Pope is at the front smashing it. And when I say smashing it I mean that by the time we were in Cobham, 10km into the ride for those of you not into Surrey’s geography, I was thinking there was no way I was going to keep up with this pace. I believe GC Denis was thinking the same. My brain was shut down by the effort but I seem to remember that he even said out loud. 

The Pope led all the way up Effingham. A steady pace that put me in a terrible position (remember, steady is not a synonym of easy).

I could either (try to) hold on to his wheel, something that didn’t really feel very appealing (or possible). Why on earth would you want to do that to yourself?

Or, let him go, but risk GC Denis following him and both of them dropping me. 

What do you prefer to punish, your body or your ego?

I decided to punish my body. 

Wrong decision because as soon as we got to the road that typically marks the top of the climb The Pope looked left and right, shouted “Clear” (I was dying and he was able to shout!!!), crossed the road and kept riding at his steady pace (remember, steady doesn’t mean easy). 

That was enough for me. Had to let him go.

Luckily for me my ego was saved because GC Denis also let him go. 

We were 25km into the ride. It was going to be a long day (and it will probably be a long ride report).

Second story of the day happened at Horsebridge Hill. 

The Pope quickly disappeared uphill leaving me and GC Denis to decide who was going to be last in the climb.

I felt pretty confident in my chances and set my own tempo. But something felt wrong when I saw GC Denis passing me. 

What is he doing?

I knew the climb. I knew there was still a fairly long way to go. 

I found myself in a terrible position. 

Again.

What do you do? Follow GC Denis or trust your knowledge of the climb even if a few kilometers ago you didn't know where you were, the Garmin is telling you the climb is finishing in 800 meters, and GC Denis NEVER gets a climb wrong?

What do you prefer to punish, your body or your ego?

I couldn’t possibly punish my body any more so I decided to punish my ego. I was going to be last anyway…

We were still 60km into the ride and I already had punished my body and my ego more than I like to confess.

A very much needed coffee and a scone at Amberly. Sitting outside. Making plans about our training camp in Asturias and The Pope confessed he had two coffees before starting the ride.

We need to establish the rule of sharing in the WhatsApp group how much caffeine everyone is having before the ride. If only to know in advance how hard the ride is going to be.

The caffeine did its usual effect and I felt much better on the way back. 

I was able to contribute to the pace. I even took the Horton sprint. 

And then, when I finished the ride, the Garmin gave me the ultimate punishment to my ego.

My FTP had decreased to 263w.

I need to have a word with Garmin’s product manager.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/14519090955 

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González