Monday, 20 July 2015

Back to Basics - Road Race Sprinting Part 1: Introduction and Psychology

We've seen that mad rush to the finish line, the elbow-to-elbow charge at the head of a seething bunch and the last desperate kick on the pedals and literally throwing the bike through the finish line. We may have seen the irrational nudges, shoulder charge or head-butt the frustrated banging on handlebars. We may have heard the noise, felt the rush of wind at the roadside and seen the gasping riders after they've crossed the line. Only a relatively few have been there. This is the realm of the sprinter.
From an interview with Brian Viner in July 2009 this comment by Chris Boardman sums up the psychology of sprinters, he was talking about Mark Cavendish;

"And he doesn't see the world in the same way as everyone else. In a sprint, with bodies everywhere all going at 70mph, I'd see the bodies, but he sees the gaps between the bodies. That's the difference"

I think he meant 70kph but it's still pretty fast; drive down the road at 40mph in your car, these people would be passing you. Now imagine that in a tightly packed bunch just inches apart.

Generally during a sprint, and in the last few minutes before it, the sprinter's body is full of adrenalin. He or she is in the full fight mode. In this situation the brain collects and processes information as fast as it can to such an extent that sprinters often remember every detail as if it were slow motion. The road surface, the movements of the other riders, the moments to make a move, when to make a final kick; all of those things happen so quickly yet the sprinter has plenty of time to react. This high speed processing creates a feeling of control and considering the potential for big accidents they are actually quite rare suggesting that the control is impressively real.

The adrenaline really does, as Chris Boardman said, let the sprinter see things differently from the rest of the bunch. The sprinter's brain really does see possibility; the gap will open up, there is enough room, I can do this. In all the high speed and pressure of a handful of intense seconds the sprinter is still making considered decisions, just faster than any other considered decision you'll ever make. Can I get through, what if so and so goes early, do I follow, do I go 95%, left or right the decisions all taken faster than you can read the words. That's what adrenaline can do. Adrenaline can also make a person hide, shake and run away, turn them into a quivering wreck, but the sprinter uses adrenaline, lives for it and harnesses its power, that's the difference.

Of course there is so much more to the psychology of sprinters.

To anyone other than the sprinter the lead up to the sprint, high speed jockeying for position and that last few hundred metres looks dangerous. Spectators and non-sprinting cyclists see high speed, close proximity, the odd elbow being used and riders blocking each other and pushing to get out of a box and all of this at a speed hovering around 40mph (60kph). In fact for very many cyclists it is just too much and they won't get involved. There is very definitely an element of risk and an element of fear.
The sprinter sees things differently. The biggest risk for the sprinter is not ending up in the gutter with a broken bike and broken bones; by far the biggest risk for the sprinter is someone getting to the line ahead of them. You can recover from broken bones, most serious sprinters know this because they've done so (or they've seen their opponents do so), your bike can be mended, but you never recover from the missed opportunity when you were second across the line. That second place stays with you. The fear of not winning is greater than any fear of crashing and it is this fear that stokes the adrenaline level mentioned above.

Nobody likes to finish second but in a sprinter's mentality it would be better to win the sprint for second place when a lone rider has already won the race than to be beaten to the line in a bunch. It is all about being the absolute fastest in the final rush for the line. There is no greater thrill in sport. The sprinter may dream of a lone race win, and occasionally it might happen, but they tend to be realist and understand that their best chances will always come from within a decent sized group. Winning at the head of a charge of 50 or more riders is always the biggest rush.

When the sprinter doesn't win it doesn't matter what he or she says, they feel a very deep sense of failure. That feeling is horrible and leads to a level of self analysis which some will share and others will internalise. The sprint takes about 10 seconds at the end of hours of racing but in those seconds the sprinter has invested everything, a fraction of a second's hesitation, or starting an effort a fraction of a second too early, misjudging the wind, the gradient or the opponent; all of these things can make the sprinter lose. They are all failures and failure is the sprinters biggest fear.

Telling the failed sprinter that they have another chance tomorrow is no real consolation. Challenging the sprinter to do better (no doing better isn't enough to), challenging the sprinter to win tomorrow has a better chance of success.

When you see Mark Cavendish almost in tears because he or she got it wrong and doesn't need sympathy, he needs the challenge of another race, another boost of the sprinters number one friend adrenaline followed by the second drug of choice; endorphins - winning gives a shot both and makes the sprinter feel better; until the next time.

Essentially the sprinter is the world's fastest addict!




So how do we get into the realm of the sprinter? My next "Back to basics" blog post will focus on the techniques of the sprinter and then I'll look at the tactics of the sprinter and finally at training....


Thursday, 2 July 2015

Eroica Festival - Part 4 - the last day

Sunday morning and the final day of the festival looms, the biggest challenge for me is the 55 mile Derbyshire ride on my old race bike. I'd lowered the gears a bit but am still a bit apprehensive.

Might the late night singing along with Pat's guitar have been too much? Along with Gav, Elizabeth, Grant, Christine and Maggie I'd had a great time listening to Pat's own songs and then singing along to those we knew but arriving back at the B&B at midnight I started to question my wisdom.

We were up early for breakfast which for Maggie included the addition of a large flat mushroom with grilled haloumi - Frank and Wendy excelled once again. As I prepared my bike Wendy was getting ready for the 30 mile ride after a friend pulled out the previous day and offered her their place. Wendy had never ridden 30 miles before and here she was taking the challenge on a 3 speed vintage bike dressed in land-girl dungarees. Later on we heard that she had completed the ride although she was somewhat tired so very well done indeed.

After breakfast I grabbed the bike and with number pinned to my newly acquired vintage-style wool jersey headed for the start in Bakewell.

Me and bike ready for the off....
From Great Longstone it is mostly downhill so I'd decided to ride the few miles to the start as a gentle warm up and although a little cool the weather was lovely. Just past Hassop Station I came across a gentleman (a term that seems particularly appropriate on this day) who having started earlier had a flat tyre just a mile into his ride. He'd changed the tube but was struggling with a mini-pump so I stopped and my 30 year old frame pump so had him back on the road. Half a mile later a large group climbed the hill out of town as I rolled down and among them I spotted an old friend, Simon Burney, who I'd not managed to find all through the weekend.

Down at the start things were quite busy and along with a mixed group of English and Italian riders of all ages (but mostly at the higher end of the scale) I was waved off with cheering crowds and an atmosphere rarely seen at any bike event. We rolled through town and over the bridge and nobody was in a rush. This was not only going to the the most handsome ride but one of the most civilised also. The stronger riders took the wind and sown cruised over Hassop and onto the Monsall Trail. The newly opened tunnels were both impressive and a little cool.
Along the trail I chatted to a fellow rider who turned out to live in Hebden Bridge just over the border from us. First stop, with toilets, came at Miller's Dale just before the first significant climb of the day and many were filling bottles - that reminded me to start drinking a little.
Soon the mixture of roads and trails brought us to the 20 mile point at Harrington where there was plenty of food and drink. As I'd had such a great breakfast I didn't need to eat so had my card stamped added a little water to my bottle and headed out again.

Out on the trails I met up with Pat Carr, fully recovered from his previous night's singing and already half way round the 100 mile route, we had a nice ride and a chat for a few miles and then took our separate routes.

After one of the prettier paths alongside the road we came back to the road and I met another rider stuck at the roadside, his chain completely jammed between the chainring and frame - the mechanics at Harrington had used a lever to unjam it previously but he had no sort of lever and neither did I. He'd been struggling with it for a while and had pretty much given up. Fortunately although I didn't have a lever I did have a plastic bag and some experience in such matters and after a few minutes had him back on the road.

Eroica was that kind of event, if someone looked like they needed help people would stop and offer it as well as they were able. This was the friendliest large bike event I'd ever seen.

After the steep, sometimes loose, mainly damp and sometimes muddy descent of Sheep's Pastures to Cromford at 37 miles the food and drink on offer were very welcome and set me up for the next leg of the ride.

The last stop couldn't come too soon and Chatsworth House along with the ice cream, food and drink was magnificent and a short ride across the grass onto the road for one final big climb before the drop down to Bakewell. Having ridden almost 60 miles since breakfast the climb was tough, almost too much for me, and at the top I had a brief stop to stretch cramping legs.

The last stretch was down the hill to Bakewell. Along with the descent from Beeley Moor which I had first ridden almost exactly 40 years ago on my first club run this final descent was great fun - and although I was passing riders all the way down I still maintain that I was exercising the caution the organisers had advised! 

So there we have it:

Eroica Britannia - truly the most handsome cycling festival, and the friendliest, with superb routes and of course with Shay the Poet!

Roll on next year!







Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Eroica Festival 2015 - Part 3

Saturday afternoon at Eroica Britannia and the Della Grants have done their stuff (look them up on google - in fact why not google all of the acts mentioned here) and then their kit has to be packed away and for 10 minutes that is all, and the crowd drifts away. Next up on stage will be Charlie Jobson, Bakewell's own singer songwriter. We were introduced and chatted to the MC and Charlie wanted to know what I did so he could do a seamless link. He plugged in his guitar, we took our seats and he performed an excellent set of his own music and a handful of covers. He has a lovely voice and was an accomplished guitarist, a pleasure to watch and listen to:

Bakewell's own Charlie Dobson
With a few minutes to go of Charlie's set I spoke to Vicky from the promoters, checked my iPad for the millionth time and then went off to find a quiet corner to compose myself. Performing in front of fellow poets I am used to but this, performing in front of friends who've never seen or heard my poetry plus an audience who probably came for the music, this was a bit nerve wracking. The quiet corner didn't work so I found some friends to chat to instead and suddenly Charlie was on his last song and I was waiting at the side of the stage. As he finished Charlie gave me an excellent introduction and saved the MC a job.

Step onto the stage, adjust the microphone stand, put a bottle of water on the floor and off we go:

My carefully scripted introduction was no longer required I knew what I wanted to say, spoke directly to the audience, told them about being a cyclist and a poet and led into my first poem. 

On stage and taking the audience for a Big Dipper ride....

Apart from a slightly droopy mic stand all was going well. When they were supposed to laugh the whole audience laughed, when they were supposed to be sombre they were, when they heard my saddest poems (The Curse and Dead Eyes) they were quiet and a few tears were wiped away. I picked them up again with more lighthearted poems and finished with a love poem for my wonderful and lovely wife. For the full set list and to read some of the poems head over to my other blog - www.seams

Elizabeth and Grant enjoying the show

Christine and Pat enjoying the show with Gavin's beer bottle just making the shot
A thirty minute Big Dipper of emotions, for the audience or for myself, and the final applause rang in my ears as I stepped off stage to make way for the next bans, Root and Branch. I sat in the audience with friends, Maggie and my brother Brendan (who having queued for over an hour to get in arrived shortly after my set had finished). Now I could really relax and we enjoyed a string of foot-tapping folk tunes before we headed out into the late afternoon of Bakewell.

Root and Branch rounding off the afternoon's entertainment
A brilliant afternoon, a privilege to perform here, a great audience and it couldn't have been better.

The afternoons entertainment left behind we walked to the town centre in search of something to eat and Pat Carr, feeling inspired, stooped off by the bridge to entertain the passing crowds, busking a mix of his own and other's songs with his excellent singing voice and his travelling Martin guitar.

Maggie and I went to the world's number one Bakewell Pudding shop for tea and I bought a pudding to take back to the bed and breakfast....


For a full set list and to read some of the poems head over to my poetry blog at  - http://shaythinkingtoomuch.blogspot.co.uk

For those not on the blog you'll need to buy my book "Thinking too much", available shortly - email info@seamuskellypoetry.co.uk for more details, or catch a performance.