The Mallorca 312 was certainly the ride of my life so far. The 312 fits the bill. It is as promised. The first half is the classic epic, big climb into steep climb. Sweeping descents down closed roads, slightly sketchy on those first descents surrounded by thousands of riders, thrilling after the bunch has thinned out a bit. The middle section as you leave the mountains is euphoric. It’s half way and your flying! Taking the form of wide sweeping roads, wide enough that huge groups can really start to roll, the sheer momentum you gain in a large pack like that is astonishing, as you pass the middle of the ride and see that the kilometres are disappearing at pace the finish doesn’t seem far away. The hard part is behind you! You’re onto the flats and you’re going to make it. Oh certainly only half the ride is done but at this speed it’ll be no time. It turns out to be an illusion, the pack explodes in cross winds and through feed-stops and the last third is Type 2 Fun as full body sensory immersion experience. Why am I here choosing to do this? How can it be possible to hurt this much? You transition into the stubbornness stage and start relying on the bloody-mindedness of someone who signs up to do this for fun. Finishing is a relief so powerful it pulls shouts of joy from the riders crossing the line.
So, how did my 312 go? Both fantastically and yet not so well that I don’t want another go. I will dispense with the relatively trivial disappointments here so as to get them out the way. Both are to do with me and not the event. The first is about 12 days out I crashed. On my commute to work, so slowly none of my kit even tore. Yet, after brushing myself off, checking the bike and continuing my ride to work I noticed my back was seizing up, by the time I got to work I was in immense pain. So instead of a being able to complete the end of my training programme I spent a lot of time in a physio’s room, on a foam roller, strapped to some ice and various other tricks to try and get my back remobilized. I just about succeeded, though I don’t think it helped on the day! Secondly, during the ride I made a tactical decision that did not pay off. I did not heed a faint call of nature at the third stop to save time. Between there and the last stop, (I had intended to three stop) things got tough and the call intensified. I have IBS and my stomach started cramping up. It was stupidly painful and it meant I couldn’t get power out of my legs, however, the situation was resolved at stop 4 and I sped to the finish. If I am honest something like this was bound to occur during my first crack at an event of this distance. Which is why I want another shot. The funny thing is despite being obviously very drained at the end, I do feel like I had some more to give! The time I spent dealing with my stomach prevented me from spending every penny of energy. Next time I will work smarter so I do get that chance. So! What went well?
Firstly, the three months preceding the crash. I put myself through a mixture of indoor interval sessions and increasingly long distance riding. I wanted to learn how to pace myself, how to reign myself in and how to raise myself to go again through fatigue. Key to this was the long slow ride, by limiting myself to a maximum heart rate on certain training rides I was able both to stress and improve different body systems to the ones I’d usually have trained on a smashy 100k loop. Also, mentally you learn how to be on your bike for 10 hours, how to stay both entertained and serene. This meant that on the day of the 312, particularly as my stomach crisis took hold I knew I would finish. I could resolve crises if they came but I would finish. You start to learn that your body and mind can be conquered, that feelings of negativity can be pushed through and left behind. After my crash feeling slightly panicked that I might now not make it, my physio calmed me down after my crash with these words: “your training is already done, nothing you do now would have made that much difference anyway” and I knew I had actually already made the difference. It meant that at my worst point in the race I knew after I had got to the last stop I would be fit to continue. I was and frankly I flew to the end.
The Mallorca 312 is route is just stunning. Closed road riding, in gorgeous scenery, almost designed to have bikes ridden on it. You cannot beat it. The mountains punish and reward you with ramps and sweeping descents, the views hold your heart and the locals belt out encouragement. I learnt a trick following a Spanish rider, in a small town and crowd was giving the golf clap. The rider in front of me shouted “VAMOS” and the crowd went nuts! I tried it with every crowd following that town and always got an awesome response. Hell of a boost! The weather was perfect and despite my crash and late problems I went pretty well, I did the thing at 28.8km/h average speed. I finished in the top 400 out of about 8000 participants and my finish line beer was about the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I cannot recommend it more. It will hang over your life in the months and weeks preceding it. It’s like a cycling Sword of Damocles, you dread not being able to finish as your training rides get longer and harder to complete. If you do though, it’s hard to think of an event that will reward you more.
Finally, being on holiday for a while longer afterwards was such a blessing. There is sometimes an emptiness associated with completing a big goal, I am so grateful that I was in Mallorca with my friends and 5 days of cycling some of Europe’s most prized roads ahead of me. We were straight in to eating, recovering, then riding in the cycling Mecca, there’s not much better reward for a cycling nut.
Zackonnabike 