In May last year, cycling history was made when, for the
first time, the Giro d’Italia left mainland Europe.
La Grande Partenza, the Big Departure, rolled
out from Belfast’s Titanic Centre.
Traffic literally came to a halt as Northern Ireland festooned itself in
pink and an outbreak of Italophilia swept the country between 9-11 May 2014.
The public appetite had been whetted and this Tourist Board promotional video nailed it [1].
The public appetite had been whetted and this Tourist Board promotional video nailed it [1].
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| Giro d'Italia 2014 Grande Partenza (Photo Source: Team Sky Twitter) |
In a direct response to the success of the opening three
days of Italy’s grand tour in Northern Ireland, the event organisers reciprocated one
year on by staging its legacy event, the Gran Fondo, on the scenic roads of the
Mournes and Strangford.
They appealed to a wide cycling audience by providing a
choice of two routes.
The shorter and
less hilly route of 58 kilometres took in Strangford Lough, while the other was
a circuit in and around the Mountains of Mourne.
Kelly, Joe and I chose the latter.
So it was that we, as well as 3000 other enthusiastic
amateurs, lined up at the same 2014 start line on the longest day of the year
to tackle the most arduous sportive that the three of us had ever attempted.
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| Gran Fondo Start 21 June 2015 Titanic Centre Belfast (Source: Gran Fondo photo) |
Last year I had had the privilege to spectate up close as
a marshal on each of the three days of competition.
On day one and the team time trial, I was stationed 1000 metres from the finish line at Belfast City Hall; on day two, my spot was just outside Ballymena; and on the third day, I was in the County Armagh village of Markethill where, on my reckoning, the volume of spectators substantially outnumbered its resident population.
The occasion and its razzmatazz inspired me to
write six blog posts.
They covered
everything from the arrival of the teams[2]
and opening ceremony[3],
to each of the three days[4]
of racing[5]
in Ireland[6],
and a concluding article about the whole Giro[7]
grand tour event.
Nairo Quintana from
Colombia was the eventual winner when the race finished its three week journey
in Trieste.
This year provided the unmissable opportunity to
participate.
What lay ahead for us was 173 kilometres of roads which
included 5 categorised climbs. For once,
the overused word “challenge” seemed appropriate.
The prevailing emotion lining up, however, was
not any sense of dread. Instead the
adrenalin rush of cycling as fast as possible on roads closed to traffic
together with the moderating prospect of getting round safely dispelled
negatives thoughts.
In a gesture that reminded me of the big city marathons
where we would start behind Olympic athletes, the Australian member of the Sky
professional racing team Richie Porte lined up alongside Ireland’s1987 Giro/Tour
de France/World Championships treble winner Stephen Roche.
We can all fantasise, bragging about being
shown a clean pair of wheels.
Motivation to train was not an issue.
The enormity of the task in hand was
sufficient spur, never mind the regular diet of training plans on offer from
the organisers.
Come the big day,
however, runners and cyclists alike are never content with their level of
fitness. Excuses, regrets and complaints
abound about not having had time to get properly fit.
We amateurs dream of climbing like the professionals. We yearn for warm sunshine and racing in windless
conditions.
It is easy in dreamland to
forget that Northern Ireland is not Italy.
Sure enough the weather on 21 June this year failed to live up to our
fantasies. Who would have foreseen
that?
The unfortunate consequence is
that enduring a long distance aerobic work-out becomes more testing when battling
squally rain and strong cross-winds rather than luxuriating in the joy of warm
sunshine.
Anyway, as sportspeople say,
conditions were the same for everybody.
Another aspect that reminded me slightly of long distance
athletics was the pre-start chit-chat of fellow athletes, with predictable
tales of sore knees and all sorts of disabling ailments which have interrupted
the training regime.
Despite this and
the alleged lack of training, these same cripples and invalides race away like possessed demons
as soon as the gun goes off.
For my part at the Fondo, I was trying to forget a couple
of issues.
A week before the event on a
visit to Scotland (which interrupted my training for four days), I had caught a
horrible gut bug. And the night before
the Fondo, when the top priority was a good rest, I was reduced to 2 hour's sleep
following a spate of anxious late night phone calls following an illness which
struck a grandson.
I had also ordered a brand new Canyon bike from Germany
to enable me to perform better.
Unfortunately, my new machine was delayed and did not arrive until a
couple of weeks after this Fondo had been consigned to history. That, as they say, is a whole other story. I had to make do
with my trusty six and a half year old Canondale Synapse.
The good news, however, was that in spite of inclement
weather and all other eventualities, the three of us survived unscathed and
without any mechanical mishap.
I was
glad to have replaced a couple of important components on my bike as these helped
on the steepest gradients.
Having survived the hardest climbs without having to
stop and walk, I was actually feeling confident as the treck progressed and looked forward to the final
forty kilometres.
Normally, feelings closer to euphoria would emerge in the final kilometres. A helpful cycling retailer[8]
who had reconnoitred the entire route had advised us to relax and enjoy the
run-in after Slieve Croob. That,
however, was not to be.
My “second wind”
was punctured by a combination of a continuous head-wind and increasingly
showery rain more or less all the way back to the Titanic slip-ways.
Looking back on the day, successful completion seems
almost miraculous and, at the time, was a huge relief and source of some
personal pride.
The medal presented at
the finish line for every finisher emphasised that feeling. It is the most elaborate in my collection,
special because it is inscribed as Giro d’Italia in big letters above Gran
Fondo.
One aspect which made the experience so enjoyable was the
support of the public along the route.
People were out cheering us on in many towns and villages.
It must have been just after 8 a.m in the
morning when we cycled through Ballygowan, but to be so warmly welcomed by so
many people early on a Sunday morning was totally unexpected. Americans might use the word awesome.
The same carnival atmosphere was obvious in
other places like Rostrevor and Hilltown. In
Rathfriland I saw somebody walking about with a huge tray of croissants as
spectators sipped fresh coffee whose fresh aroma aroused my already-hightened nasal senses. All very
convivial, continental almost.
Just as people had erected balloons and painted old
bicycles pink for the professional race last year, we were greeted with the
same themes, presented to brighten up our day.
I salute the people of County Down.
Richie Porte summed it up by saying that he
had never seen anything like it as the public don’t usually come out to watch
the Gran Fondo.
The cyclists were also
full of praise for the organisers, volunteers, mechanics, medics and
everybody who worked tirelessly on our behalf. It was obvious that, in spite of austerity, the police had invested heavily in ensuring that this event was a big success.
One of the best stories of the day was the appearance of
two elderly brothers who rode the Strangford route from start to finish.
John and Milton McKeag are aged 93 and 88
respectively. They were two of about 80 men aged 60+ who completed the course.
I know John from our days as long distance runners. After completing the Fondo course, he was quoted as saying that he had had an operation four weeks ago on his prostate.
I know John from our days as long distance runners. After completing the Fondo course, he was quoted as saying that he had had an operation four weeks ago on his prostate.
He told
the journalist matter of factly that he has been cycling for 88 years and
running for 74 years.
What a great
advertisement these people are for our sport – and region.
On the subject of age, it says something about the
profile of cycling and seems to verify the modern acronym, mamil (meaning middle
aged men in lycra), that eight of the first ten finishers were over 40 on the Mournes course.
In my category of male 60+ (senior mamils perhaps),
there were about fifty finishers.
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| Blog author starting. (Source: a still from Belfast Telegraph video with inscription by cycling colleague Joe McIldowney) |
Not fantastic and definitely not invincible, but that is not the
point.
It was a privilege to be able to
take part in an international legacy event organised by professionals for amateurs.
Stephen Roche aptly described it as a festival
of cycling. D'accordo.
©Michael
McSorley 2015
[3] http://michaelmcsorleycycling.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-opening-ceremony-team-presentation.html
[4] http://michaelmcsorleycycling.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/la-grande-partenza.html
[5] http://michaelmcsorleycycling.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/dont-knocknaguilliagh.html
[6] http://michaelmcsorleycycling.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/arrivederci-irlanda-grazie-mille-giro.html
[7] http://michaelmcsorleycycling.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-finish-line-larrivee-il-traguardo.html
[9] http://www.granfondogiroditaliani.com/portfolio/route-timings-revealed/
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