26 Days to Go: Bethany Edinburgh Sportive

Yesterday was a truly stunning day, both in terms of riding and weather.  On a rare perfect summer's day (25 deg) I rode the Bethany Trust Edinburgh Sportive.  Starting in Bonnyrigg, just outside of Edinburgh, the ride heads over the moorfoot hills into the Scottish Borders.  We arrived just before 9am and set off by 9:15.  It was already warm enough to be comfortable in shorts and short-sleeves. Even had the summer Assos socks on instead of the normal merino wool socks.  I started in a group of four but one guy shot off, and the other two were a lot slower than me so I was on my own within a couple of minutes.  But as it was such a glorious day it didn't bother me as I just took in the peacefulness of the countryside.

The first 45 minutes saw patches of some of the worst roads I have seen outside of Lanarkshire.  The normal big potholes from our severe winter were there, along with big patches of gravel due the seal being broken up. To be honest I was glad to be riding on my own as it makes it easier to see and avoid the worst bits.  Once the route turned onto the B road heading over the moorfoot hills it was back to decent roads.  The first climb over the moorfoot hills, which climbs up to around 250 metres, felt really gentle after the Alps.  So much so that I tried to catch a guy who had passed me a couple of miles earlier.  Sadly I couldn't catch him but not for lack of trying.  The descent was brilliant - no brakes needed. I hit Innerlethien 30 minutes before the only cutoff point, catching the guy from the climb!

The first feed stop was here and it looked like everyone was out for a picnic.  I never seen such a leisurely food stop.  But on such a glorious day you do feel inclined to relax and enjoy the breaks.  I caught up with David Hills from the club here.  After a bit of chat I grabbed a banana and some water, and headed back to talk to my hubby.  Next minute we heard the sound of a tyre going down.  It was David's tyre.  His bike was just lying in the sun so something must have heated up.  He had plenty of helpers so Mark and I set off again.  Mark soon dropped me on the next climb and I was on my own again. I had thought that I might have some company now but, as no one was coming up behind, I suspect everyone else at the feed stop was doing the shorter 71 mile route.

30 minutes later I was over the next climb and at the crossroads at the Gordon Arms.  The marshall asked me if I was the last rider.  At this point I began to suspect that I could be on my own for the rest of the day.  Never mind it was time to concentrate on the next climb, the Berrybush.  Another 30 minutes and this one was knocked off too.  This was feeling a bit too easy and I was making pretty good time.  My average speed was slightly higher than normal and my heart rate about right for an event.

The next stretch was unbelievably beautiful.  The road was like a ribbon, undulating through a valley passing a river and couple of small lochs.  I passed a couple of camper vans, in what looked like a very idyllic spot.  I got caught up by another rider at this point.  I was pretty pleased as I thought maybe there were some other riders coming up behind.  This pleasure was short lived when I found out he was the back up mechanic, and so last man on the course.  He told me the marshall had counted through all the riders on the long course and wasn't expecting any one else.  We chatted for a while and then I got dropped when the road went up again.  It was at this point that my legs began to feel very tired.  The accumulation of climbing from the Alps was beginning to show.  Looking the cycle computer I was less than halfway round so suspected it could actually be a tough day. 

I caught up to a group of four who I had passed earlier.  However, they were not officially riding the sportive but just happened to be on the same route.  Still it was nice to have a bit of company for a while and took my mind off my sore legs.  As they were heading in a slightly different direction we parted company and then I completely overshot a left hand turn.  Back on course the next feed station appeared - along with Mark and the mechanic waiting for me in the sun.  I have to confess I was feeling a bit rubbish being the last one through as it meant all the marshalls and helpers were hanging around for me.  I should have started earlier given my expected average speed, but I had thought that others would have started around the same time.  Still no one seemed bothered as it was a nice day to be hanging out in the countryside.  After a sandwich and a rest it was time to top up the bottles.  I discovered a slight problem with my Nuun tablets, they had started to react with the condensation caused by the heat and the foil was stuck to them.  After a bit of faffing I got one into my bottle and was off again.

I struggled a bit on the next section as my legs were really tired.  The route went over the Woll, which is beautiful but it was not helped by constantly being passed by classic cars out on a rally. Talk about exhaust fumes, a perfect trigger for my asthma.  But hey ho it is British summertime and we have to share the roads.  I battled on to Selkirk and then over to the next valley where the two rides meet up.  The broom wagon passed me and then stopped further up.  They offered me some water so I took the opportunity to take a caffeinated gel at this point.  A couple of minutes later I was in Clovenfords and there was Mark waiting for me outside the pub.  What a sight for sore eyes!  I confessed to Mark that I could quite happily climb into the broom wagon but I knew I wasn't going to. 

It must have been the gel because I felt a lot better after this point.  I was familiar with the section to the next feed stop and I usually struggle on it.  But I absolutely loved it.  The constant ups and downs were great and, although my legs still hurt, I was able to push them a bit harder.  Got a soaking when it rained for ten minutes or so, which was quite nice as it was pretty cooling.  Then I arrived at next and final feed stop to arrive to the welcoming committee of Mark and the mechanic - and the broom wagon.

A quick rest, another gel and it was the final 20 miles.  Once over the moorfoot hills it was a quick run back.  I arrived at the finish to a big cheer from all the waiting marshalls, and you guessed it.......mark and the mechanic.  8 hrs 45 minutes (including 45 minutes of rest) 2500 metres of climbing and a great sense of achievement.