howies®

next Tuesday, 7th September we have the creators of  ‘the ride journal’ joining us at Carnaby Street to do a Wee Do Lecture.

they will be here to tell us all about the inspiration behind the books, how they put their ideas into reality, the huge success they have now become and what’s going to be happening from here. 

if you missed your chance to get hold of the first 3 they are available to download from the website and are well worth it, issue 4 is still currently available to buy but be quick because i doubt they will hang around for long.

the lecture will begin at 7:30pm, if you would like to come down or know anyone else who may like to come then just drop us an email at carnabyst@howies.co.uk or ring us on 0207 287 2345 and reserve your free tickets.

the usual beers and juices will be available to quench your thirsts.

we hope to hear from you all soon!

This Weeks T-Shirt of the Week is ‘No Gears’ by 45rpm

No Gears is a group of like-minded cyclists who live and ride in Bristol.

From premiering some of the best cycle films in the world, to curating bike-based
art shows, they have a love for anything with two wheels.

45rpm is an artist and member of the collective. He has designed this t-shirt
to commemorate the 2010 Bristol Bike Week.

Click Here for the Men’s
Click Here for the Women’s

Yesterday I tripped upto Manchester to see Oi Poloi to show them the new Spring/Summer range for 2011.

I had 3 huge bags to show them so it was a driving mission, but this means passing up through North Wales and mountains.

Which also means Cader Idris on the way home. The run is from 300ft to 2854ft and back in 7 miles.

4pm I parked up, hid all my stuff round the car. Put on shorts, shoes and merino, stretched and plodded off to the steps.

The first few hundred feet are steps and stones that need a slow constant warming pace.

By the top of these I am drenched in sweat, breathing to the bottom of my lungs and my legs are burning.

The steps stop, the mountain still climbs on rocks, gravel and grass. The sun is in my eyes, my shades are off as the lenses are already sweat stained. I tap out a constant pace. I pass all the walkers coming off the hill to go home.

I try to thank them for moving aside but my breathing is too hard and I am beginning to descend into that level of concentration you need when pushing beyond.

I reach the lake and decide that today is the day to go right to the top, round and down. But I have bought no water or food.

The climb from the lake really kick. I can run short sections and then others it’s marching pushing on my legs. I pass another set of walkers who look at me with questioning faces.

The trail flattens for a short spell and I calm my breathing and concentrate hard on a smooth pace.

I run, march, run, march up and up feeling the onset of dehydration. When I look back this was the toughest bit. I run a sentence through my head over and over asking the next walkers if I can have some of their water. Will I ask, won’t I ask?  The last people thought I was mad. Who wants to speak to a sweating runner in the wilds.

No one comes along. I see bilberry bushes along the trail that all seem bare. I search harder and find that bushes in the shade of rocks have fruit. I eat every one I find no matter how ripe.  50 berries kick in. Pace rises.

I see the top with a ladder over a fence where I stop and look at the view. 44 minutes.  I look down to the lake and rejoice.

I then look along the ridge and see I still have a decent and another climb. A big climb. To higher than where I am.

I am not at the top.

I am super hot, vision is blurred and my hands feel tight and cramp like. And I am not at the top. I am a long way off and this knocks me.

I have a very long steep decent followed by a sharp climb. People are coming down and I can only just see them. Should I continue. Will going on be harder than going back. I can’t get this far and not do this. Now or never.

Top off, volume up, wipe face and down the slope. It is really steep and loose and I have trouble slowing down. I am worrying about injury and my ability to get round and I am making mistakes.

I meet the walkers at the bottom of the climb. They all smile and say hi and I cannot bring myself to ask for water. Am I embarrassed about being so far out and so unprepared?

I start the last climb. I can’t run, but I maintain my fast march. I look for bilberries but up this high there is nothing but rock. I look for pools of water, but the only ones are peaty.

Then there is the last gully to the trig point. It’s looks like a greek mountain. And then I am up.

I spend 10 minutes at the top. Absolute silence. Birds are on the floor resting. No wind. The Irish sea to the fore and North Wales behind. There is a rock shelter.

It all come back. My legs. My breath. My confidence. I have done it and now I just have to get back.

I hear voices and decide to descend.

The fist section is over grass. Steep and fast. Rocks appear. Picking a line has to be fast and acurate.

I then enter back into rocks and gravel and the perfect hip hip mix enters the head phones. I pick up the pace across the rocks despite the gradient feeling like vertical and relax into the tune. I dance down the boulders. The more I relax the faster I can be.

There is nothing right now but the rhythm and my rhythm.  I am now flying along and I have shoved the fear of falling away.

I join the path I climbed up on and know it’s steps all the way to the car. I pass all the walkers I passed on the climb. I replay the last track and dance the last decent to the car.

On the very last step I stop and whoop.

I am soaked, boiling hot, my knees and ankles are painful, my shoulders and back are stiff but I feel like I won.Further, higher, longer and faster.

And I beat my head.

Click here for some insanely great photos including shots by Ricky Adam,
who has worked with howies before.

Personally, I vote for Stéphane Candé.

September has only just began and…

the car parks are empty

the beaches are quiet

there are no queues in the supermarket or coffee shop

the mornings are clear & crisp

the berries are bursting out of the hedgerows

the evenings are drawing in

there’s a nip in the air before the sun goes down

jumpers are coming out of storage for snuggling into

there’s some surf on its way

hurray hurray hurray I love september

I’ve been running since last year.

Well, I  say ‘running’ … I mean going out with a specific route in mind, and aiming for a speed at least a couple of times a month, usually a couple of times a week.

This weekend I will be running in my first organised race, the Bristol Half Marathon.

With 4 days to go, it’s playing on my mind, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Have I done enough training? (probably not.)
Can I pace myself for the first half? (maybe…)
Will I be able to finish? (yeeeah.)
Will I be fast? (Don’t be stupid.)

I’m aiming to finish in under 1 hour 40. With my own absurd target being 1 hour 30.

I figure there are three key points that will help me in the race as opposed to training on my own.

1 – Bristol is flat. A lot flatter than Pembrokeshire.
2 – There will be well organised and regular drink stops. I often dehydrate half way through my run and finish with a headache.
3 – I will be running in a pack and will be able to tune out easier once I find someone to pace myself with.

The nervous energy is building in my legs.

It can’t start soon enough.

Sometimes you forget to get out and breathe when you get into the daily 8-5 and when this is on the doorstep it’s easy to take it for granted, so I decided to take time out to enjoy the wonderful September sun before we start knocking on Autumns door.

Forget the usual hustle and bustle, this is lunchtime Cardi style and all I had to dodge were butterflies, dragonflies and one or two binocular toting Twitchers round the wildlife park.

A bunch of fantastic people in Scotland are orgainsing a girlie downhill camp with Helen Gaskell the first weekend in October.

Looking to be a great event, drop them a line if you fancy taking part.

On bank holiday Sunday, little old Cardigan hosted it’s first ever Criterium bike race.

While the pros rolled up with their swish carbon bikes & shaved legs and set up their turbo trainers along the sides of the back roads, the focus of the day for us was the traders race. A 15 minutes +2 lap race, open to any local business people, shopkeepers, delivery drivers, barkeepers and the like.

Ade and I joined Jon Heslop of the Do Lectures on the motleyest of motley start lines.

Ade and Jon were sporting fixed wheels, I was on a borrowed road bike with gears and a freewheel. Also in the mix were a few classic town bikes, a couple of more serious looking racing frames and at least one 26″ MTB’er.

The flag fell and off we went. A leading pack quickly took charge of the race and built a lead over the rest of the field, with Ade and I trading places in our own race behind them.

I kept in touch until the final lap, when he made his break and my tired legs capitulated.

The real hero of the day was Josh, though. Who shot off with the lead pack and went on to win the race (but only by a whisker) on the carbon Look he borrowed from the bike shop, wearing jeans with a pair of flat pedals and a 15mm spanner in his back pocket to swap them back onto his BMX for the ride home.

Many thanks to Carl, Tom and the rest of Velo Teifi who laid on a great event. We hope to take part in many more Cardigan Street races in years to come.

Tomorrow is 16 days to the do lectures.

They have a tent that can fit 100 people.

20 speakers and 80 attendees.

It’s 4 days long.

The location is idyllic and accommodation superbly comfortable.

The lectures inspiring.

The food will be local and made by Anja who worked here and is now writing her own cook book.

The company will leave you with friends and stories for life.

And I will be taking attendees running.

And they have just 4 tickets left

So if you want to spend 4 days washing around in intellectual compost that will  return you to your world ready to make change then buy now.

It is one of the most inspirational things that I have ever done.

Call 01239 62 35 84 and tell em we sent you.