A new year, a new outlook. What has cycling done for me?

I was thinking I must get a blog written soon seeing as though it is the new year and there's no better time to write a summary of the year just gone. I guess I could have written about anything, and I could have, but we all try our hardest to come up with a title that will hopefully produce something so profound, so dynamic and breath taking. But each time it boils down to the simple things. And maybe it is the simple things that work best.

So here I am, blog post no.2.

Not only will the next few paragraphs fill you in on the kind of year I have had, but how I got into cycling to begin with. (It's a long one)

January 2011 - The year I woke up:

Snow, lots of it

Taking myself back to the very start in early January (2011), I weighed almost 2 stone heavier (28lbs) and had done little exercise over the winter of 2010. I had always loved cycling, but not enough maybe to keep it up when things got cold. Very cold. If the heavens were full of snow, boy did the heavens open in 2010. All I seem to remember from that year was fluffy white blankets of white stuff occupying the ground for as far as the eye could see. And I lived in Windsor then. Not the north of England. Not in the highlands of Scotland. Nor did I live in the North or South Poles. I lived in the south of England. I should have been safe.
Anyway, I made it my goal, my aim, my destiny (Ok, maybe not destiny), to get fit, to get motivated, and to find a routine I could stick to. I didn't want to reach my goal by summer then crash back to sofa bound, cookie scoffing land by November. No sir. Not me. Not now. 2011 was to be the year that made me into a cyclist. A real cyclist.

So there I was. 198 lbs again. I set myself the task of completing a goal I had first set out to achieve 6 years previous when I bought my first proper bike. I bought a Saracen Mantra II mountain bike and boy was it worth it.

2004 - The beginning: I started off by doing around 5 miles. Hitting a few woods and parks, then coming home. This continued until summer, when I convinced a couple of friends to ride to Basingstoke from Sandhurst and back again. Total trip, 34 miles. At the time this was the biggest thing I had done. EVER! I was so happy and thrilled that I had done it. How much can Matt Crisp handle? I asked my self.

In France, testing the water!

Well as it turned out, I could handle 50 miles from Guildford to Brighton two weeks later, then 64 miles to Portsmouth the following weekend. I won't mention every bike ride I did that year, but it culminated into a desire to go further and further. I must do something bigger. Huge! I am uncontested when I announce that I never do things by halves. "What is everyone else doing?" "Right, I will go twice as far". Able or otherwise, I'd always give it a go. So what was the big "ride" going to be? I didn't have to look too far for too long.  I had always loved France and for many reasons, and it was only a few hundred miles away at most. Who do I know that has cycled inside it a hundred miles, let alone the whole way down? Exactly, no one!

2005 - The Grand Depart:
Now, to cut a long story short. I had planned the trip months in advance using a large map and notepad. That's it. The two friends I had cycled with the year before to Brighton and Portsmouth were supposed to be coming with me that morning, but both cancelled weeks before due to one reason or another. But was I to be deterred? Of course not.

So where does this story get cut short then? here! I got 100 miles, missed every check point, and gave up.

3 days I spent in France. It was supposed to go on for 3 weeks. All that planning, all that money. The sponsorship, the expectations from friends, family and colleagues. Quashed!

2009-2010 - 4 years and a few cakes later:
Roll on several years later (2009) and I am making coffee one morning in the canteen at work. There isn't much to look at by the hot water dispenser but for a small notice board full of health and safety certificates and pointless adverts. One of them however did catch my attention. CYCLE TO WORK SCHEME 2009. I had seen this before but never looked too much into it. Besides, I only lived 100 yards from work and barely walked in, let alone cycled. I read the few paragraphs this leaflet vividly flaunted and headed to my HR (Human Resources) department.

"How do I get me one of these?" I asked.

I felt strange asking as I knew, that they knew, where I lived (100 yards away). As it turns out, there was no such rule that says you must live a certain distance from work (or they just didn't check every applicants home and work address on Google?). And if there was one that existed, it didn't deter me from making my order. 3 months later (January 2010), I collected my very first race bike. An Eddy Merckx AMX-1. It cost £1000 and was by far the best looking thing I've had between my legs (smirk!).

For every day-lit hour there after I would ride this thing all over from Ascot, Bracknell, Sandhurst, Virginia Waters, Staines, Woking. Anywhere. I never took things too seriously however, but kept up the effort all over summer. But that's when it happened. Winter. I hit the sofa. I gave up!
Over the coming cold months I gained nearly two stone. I think this started a lot earlier than the end of summer. 2 stone in 3 months, is hard. Even for me.

So as 2010 came to an end I started thinking about my resolutions. You may hate doing them, or even deny doing any at all, but I think we all do at some stage, even if they're subconscious. It's got to be the best time to make them, right? I know we can change our goals and make new ones at any time throughout, but a fresh day, a fresh week, a fresh month and year all rolled into one. Perfect!

2011 - The greatest year so far:

Great read

Up to the end of 2010, I had been reading several cycling books, most notably the first two biographies by Lance Armstrong (It's not about the bike and Every second counts). And having finished both these fantastic books, I started watching cycling too. This is something I had refused to do previously. To me it was completely un-watchable. How could a bunch of guys cycling along together for 4 hours be in any way, entertaining? I just didn't get it. My colleague who sits next to me at work did watch it and would go on about it over the summer when the Tour De France was on. Don't get me wrong, I knew what they were doing was super human and something I would never be able to do, but you could say the same thing about a heart surgeon. You wouldn't watch one for 4 hours straight, over and over, every year.
But I was getting the bug. Big time. New bike, a few books, monthly magazines, DVD's, proper bike clothing! I had already built up quite a good mental database of cyclists names along with a few team teams and races. But I hadn't actually watched a single race. The first race I watched properly was the 2011 Tour Down Under. This was to be Lance Armstrong's last appearance in an overseas professional bike race and I think that's what compelled me to watch it initially. I was disappointed to begin with that i'd never get to witness Armstrong battle the worlds greatest race in the Tour De France, but here he was, kitted out and looking in the shape of his life. Unfortunately, the results didn't reflect this, he finished 103rd. But I was hooked. Did I get confused when I saw one guy make a break for it, only to give up a few hundred yards away with his team mate in tow? Yes. Did I wonder why most races finished in a bunch sprint? Of, course. Why do they not just ride off? Race away! There were a lot of questions to be answered, but for now, I would wait.
And that waiting continued until about May or June, 5-6 months later. It took a while to understand the logistics and tactics of professional bike racing but eventually I got it, and just in time for the Tour De France.
But before the Tour itself, I had my own Grand Tour to contend with.

The BIG announcement:
I decided in February 2011 to announce my trip to my colleagues, friends and my family. I was to do this solo, take no one with me. I did however have a secret weapon. My fiance, Naomi Judge. Although she wouldn't be riding with me, she would drive the whole way, carrying all the gear, the spares, the tent, the food. And I say to this day, and mean it with every conviction, I could not have done it without her. Her assistance, company and understanding was as good as the cars that follow the pro's during those big races. Not one panel bag or ruck sack found itself on my person on any of the 17 days of cycling I did. This was the one thing that made me nervous when planning the trip as I did not have the money to buy yet another bike, this time capable of holding and carrying a great load of equipment. Any cyclist reading this would agree me with ten fold when I say that the best ride, is one that consists only, of the clothes you're wearing, and little else. Of course you need fuel, but we're fortunate enough for both the clothing and bike manufacturers to have thought this through for us. Drink and food are easily stored, out of sight, out of mind. But to lug a tent, a sleeping bag, cooking tools.........The list goes on! So, you can see why I asked her to come along and she enjoyed every minute of it too.

Yet another early start

The trip lasted 3 weeks, 17 days of 60 miles each, 3 days off and travelling time there and back to ferry ports. I may write a piece on the trip itself which to date, I have yet to do. I did however, put together a photo book which contains my favourite pictures taken along the trip by Naomi. Her photographs were fantastic and I could not be happier with the results. If you would like to take a look click here.

The final day. Behind me, The Pyrenees

But maybe I have jumped the gun some what. I didn't just wake up one morning, realise I had three weeks off work and set off for Calais, did I? I trained. And I trained hard. To say I did every day would have been a lie, but 4 to 5 times a week I would go out for 1 to 2 hours. Group rides, time trials round a selected route, long trips at weekends. And when it rained? I used my indoor trainer which has served me well.

We left on May 27th at 7am, heading south east for Dover. The next 3 weeks are still kind of a blur seeing as how much there was to see and do. keep yourselves posted for a piece on the trip.

Since getting back I have kept the enthusiasm high. I ride with High Wycombe CC on Sunday mornings from time time to time, soaking up 60 miles on average and visiting the odd cafe on the way. I also cycle 17 miles to work at least twice each week.

Never have I had such a passion for something as much as cycling. I owe it so much, yet there's so much more to do. I raised over £1000 for the Motor Neurone Disease Association as a result of doing my trip so I owe a thanks for that also. I started this year a slightly podgy, lazy, yet adventurous individual and I start this one, fit, lean and even more adventurous. I hope to cycle down Italy from Austria to the very bottom in summer this year. I also started racing on Saturday afternoons with the Imperial Winter League near Hillingdon, in Greater London.

I hope to have a year that's no less challenging and no less entertaining than the one I have just completed. I have come a long way from my early days of cycling in 2004. I have achieved so much, but it's taken time. My enthusiasm and passion to go that little bit further, higher, has been the driving force behind my motivation. Without it, where would I be?



So, what did you do last year?