A couple of weekends back, I headed to Victoria for the annual festival of uphill suffering known as the Three Peaks. For those unfamiliar with the event, what you’re essential looking at is a parcours comparible to a Tour de France mountain stage, over 235 kilometres of stunning Victorian Alpine roads, accompanied by nearly 1800 other riders, complete with road closures, medical and recovery services, feed stations, electronic timing and mechanical assistance, and, during the leadup, detailed training advice.
It’s rightly a Blue Riband event in Australian cycling, and indeed has made some global lists as a best-of-breed event. This is something I had to do.
So I signed up. Unfortunately, my preparations were a bit rocky. I picked up a few injuries in January and February, which drastically cut the amount of riding I was able to do, but nevertheless I kept to my original target time of under ten hours – ambitious, but not unachievable.
Of course, that was almost derailed the Friday before I left, when my Chief Financial Officer and unoffical Directeur Sportif (aka girlfriend) offered to buy me a new set of carbon handlebars if I broke 9:30, or a Stages Power Meter if I broke nine.
Game. on.
