What a difference a week can make to your life. And to your resting heart rate. Whether it makes any difference to my cycling ability, well, let’s wait and see.
For the first time since 2018 I made it to the Pyrenees. They have changed a lot in that time. The roads are stickier, the gradients are steeper and all the bikes are much heavier. Only joking of course, it was all pretty much as I’d left it at the end of the Cent Cols. It was me that had changed. Oh, and maybe the world too.
I left Bristol Airport on Thursday 2nd June in scenes of pandemonium. Apparently it had been worse in the days before. If this is what a Jubilee does to the transport infrastructure, it’s yet more evidence of the damage having a royal family does to the country. But I persevered, and eventually found myself in the arrivals’ hall of Toulouse airport, on a calm and serene evening. I decided to drag my bike (in it’s box), my suitcase (suitably overstuffed with cycling kit), to my overnight stop (the Hotel Ibis Styles), which was after all just 1km away. I’d forgotten that even at 8PM it can still be very hot in Occitanie. Won’t make that mistake again.
I settled in for the evening, watching the sun go down, and feeling the stress seeping out of me. It felt like home, even if it isn’t. Although in a way of course, it is.
I had intended to potter about the City centre the next morning, but I overslept. I contented myself with a French breakfast of bread, ham, cheese and croissant, with suitable coffee. That blue sky was already in evidence, a deeper blue than you get in England, and I wandered over to Decathlon and bought a new shirt. More of that later.
Lunchtime arrived and Lee from Cycle Pyrenees arrived to pick me up and take me to Foix. That sounds like it should be a Bing Crosby film. I’m not going to describe every single ride, climb, descent, meal, castle, mountain view, or even any of them. If you want to see any of them, ask to follow me on Strava or Instagram (guybuckland77). If I like you I’ll accept you.
I’m not even going to tell you about all the things I learned about myself. There wasn’t much to be honest, I was too intent on enjoying myself. If you go to Cycle Pyrenees in Vernajoul (near Foix) I guarantee you will enjoy yourself too. If we meet soon I may give you a standard response about my holiday, but I can honestly say here, in my blog, that it was an outstanding trip and just what I needed.
The highlight for me was the penultimate day, when we all went out for a ride together, and I got to see a castle I’d long to visit for a long time. By then I was still climbing slowly, but I didn’t feel as if parts of my body were going to disintegrate before I got to the top. Yes, a short climb, but also a bit of fitness, a bit of knowledge (thanks Lee for the HR tip), and a lot of perspective.
The company of hosts and fellow guests was excellent. All better cyclists than me, they had inordinate patience to wait when they needed to, or not when I needed them to go up the road and leave me to my work. It may be true that it is harder than it used to be, but I think a lot of that has to do with the unfamiliarity, the absolute shellacking I’ve had in the past few years, and a certain psychological struggle that is receding as fast as my descent of the Col de Port (a PB in case you wondered).
Which brings me back to the shirt. This picture on the morning I left, with that sky behind me. Or me in front of it. I look pretty good don’t I? I do look my age, but I am also fitter than a week ago. I’m not going to rest easy either. All my numbers are as good as they have been for four years, and I am confident I am going to get better.
I’m not interested in challenges, competitions, status, hierarchy or machismo. I know my place. The question now is, do you know yours?
