Majorca with GPM10, Annecy, and the Paleo Diet

April 1^st marked the start of my work with cycle tours company GPM10. I was looking forward to changing my focus away from competition for a time, and enjoying the less stressful and enjoyable routine of running training camps. I arrived on a balmy Friday evening in Majorca for 18 days of warm sun.

First day- New bike, new kit, lightweights- bliss

That first evening was particularly memorable because of the ludicrous amount of extremely expensive equipment lying on the lawn outside our suite. I was stunned speechless, and I've been exposed to my fair amount of bling kit after working at Cyclefit. There were pink Serotta Meivicis, green Serotta Meivicis, Serotta Ottrots, Indy fabs, Colnago C59s........ the list goes on. The pinnacle of this excess was on the 4^th day. One of the riders punctured Cipollini's lightweight wheels but didn't have to worry; we replaced them with a spare set of lightweights in the van. In fairness the European lightweight rep brought most of the wheels out, but it will still very amusing.

We had three training camps during the 18 days I was in Majorca. The first group was a very entertaining party of New Yorkers who came via bike shop- Signature Cycles. The second was the motley crew from Cyclefit, and the third was a small private group.

Everything went very smoothly apart from one disastrous day to San Salvador with the Cyclefit group. I managed to make three wrong turns in a single return journey- taking the fast group on a tour of burnt-out cars and industrial zones. The 2^nd group found my gaffs particularly hilarious; being passed twice in one ride yet still beating us back. It was safe to say my red face when we rolled into the hotel wasn't caused by sunburn. The day scarred me enough that I haven't made a wrong turn since.

The last night- failing to smoke a cigar

Majorca finished with a road trip back to Annecy via Barcelona. After a day of manual labour packing the van, which felt very difficult in contrast to the sunbathers by the pool, I headed to Palma to catch the ferry. From there I sailed to Barcelona, then drove to Port Bou for the night and tackled the last part of the drive to Annecy the following day.

I was shocked by the scenery when I arrived. The pristine lake with the backdrop of the craggy mountains was much appreciated after the dull drive along the motorways. My brother had come to stay for the week, so we went for a ride around the Lake, enjoying the surroundings and loosening my knee and ankle which had seized up. A friend arrived from Paris the following day, and we spent a week exploring Annecy, Chamonix, and Geneva.

When I arrived in Annecy, I started experimenting with the Paleo Diet after reading 'Paleo diet for Endurance Athletes' by Joe Friel and Loren Cordain. What a great way to eat! Loads of fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables. Check out this quick summary- http://www.trainingbible.com/pdf/Paleo_for_Athletes_Cliff_Notes.pdf , but the whole book is worth a read. It gave me far more insight into nutrition than I have picked up from five years of experience racing and training. The drawbacks quickly revealed themselves though. It is hideously expensive, which isn't compatible with my intention of saving for University. It is very impractical- trying to consume 4000- 6000 calories a day of meat, fruit, vegtables, nuts, and seeds, is very difficult and plays havoc with your digestion. Compromise was the only solution; I am eating more protein, fruit, and vegetables, but haven't cut out dairy or grains.

Pre-race nerves- with an Eritrean in the background

After a brief trip to the UK to see the rest of my family, I returned back to Annecy to prepare for the upcoming trips. Beforehand though, I got the chance to race the Tour Du Chablais. I was nervous as this was a prestigious event raced over a hilly 160km on the southern shores of lake Geneva from Thonon to Evian. I almost stuffed it up within the first hour when I arrived at the first climb in the last group- I just didn't quite understand the regional tactics. The French race like lunatics, with every rider, regardless of there aspirations for the rest of the race, hammering away trying to form a break in the first hour. I thought, 'We have 4 hours to race with mountains, are you crazy?'. I should have done the same though. Finding myself in this perilous position with the broom wagon shuffling along behind, I put in a massive effort to make my way to the second group- and wasting a lot of energy. After 3 more hours of aggressive racing, I rolled in 18^th at the finish line in Evian.

Utterly spent

Next Post: Down to Business in the Alps