Catch the pigeon, catch the pigeon... Dave's training blog

If you’re old enough to remember that catchphrase then you'll remember Wacky Races. And so my story begins, in fact the old Mallorcian man that was part of the dispersing crowd looked like Dick Dastardly – thin, frail, with a slim pointy moustache and a devious look in his eye... yes there was panic in the sleepy villages of Mallorca the other week as Ben cycled around in his Lycra shorts, but that's not Ben's fault, it's mine.

You see a week last Friday I was support for Ben. Now what he didn't realise is that at 5' 7'' (well, with 3 pairs of socks on!) I could hardly reach the pedals of his big shiny truck, plus I’m not used to driving a mini lorry. You can imagine the fright in a little sleepy village when they see a blingy red sports truck swerving down the road with what seems like no-one driving (well you could make out a pair of hands and some tufts of hair just protruding from the wheel, but that was it!).

It always helps when, as a support vehicle, you know where you're going... "Morning Dave," – I could swear I heard Ben rattle as he got out of the truck, there's so many supplements he's taking lately. "So, where we going?" I replied. "Well, I thought...." as soon as I heard that word "thought" I knew that there was no plan… I was in trouble.

"I'll meet you in Arenal", I confidently agreed and set of to get ahead and chill out with a coffee. I swear I sat down for only 3 minutes after finding a cafe 20km into the journey, and there he was in the corner of my eye already. I jumped into the road like Billy Elliot to grab his attention, and to stop him, I’m such a nerd I need to plan and hate not being organised. He went gliding past. "Not stopping," he shouted. I screamed back at him to ask directions, “Cala D'or" I heard faintly. Bloody hell that's the other side of the island and numerous ways to get there. God I hate life…

****** Half an hour later & the phone rings *******

"Where are you?" said Ben in a stroppy tone. "Where am I? Where am I? Stressed – trying to find a bloody needle in a haystack!", I replied. "It's a lovely ride this, by the coast, sun shining, nice breeze!" said Ben. The coast? The coast! I was miles away and losing tufts of hair by the minute. You get the picture but it got better, at least when I caught up with him about 3 hours from the start, you know he's starting to move at some pace!!!!

Back to the less stressful task of training with him. The day before our ‘adventure’ I rode with Ben, South to North and back – 135km, great to spend some quality time together and train, talk, get some fresh air and appreciate our wonderful island. You should have seen his face light up when at 70km we had a full English brekkie treat at a British bar in Alcudia. This was Ben's toughest weeks training to date, 4 continuous days, 600km, it was by no means easy but he cracked it, with a smile and not too many aches & pains. That's a massive boost to Ben and his confidence is soaring. I'm really chuffed with his progress and Ben is duly proud of what he has achieved to date.

In terms of timescales, we are now half way through the training schedule that I set with Ben and he can now tackle a tough riding week at 50% capacity of his target weekly ride. Ben's on track. The problem we now face is that it's impossible for Ben to increase the volume of bike hours with work and family commitments. So I’m devising a tough gym plan to challenge his cardio system and throwing in some eye watering endurance leg work to take him to the next level.

I must say we do have fun training and have a great rapport, I do give Ben some stick on my blogs sometimes but I assure you he gets his own back. In the gym last week I asked him to do some hanging leg raises, it involves hanging from a static bar from the wall. The bar is 6ft plus off the floor. "Don't know that one, show me", he said with a straight face. “Hmmm OK" I said as I stood under the bar, concentrating on my leap. Well a full stretch with my hands above my head (as if I have a revolver pointing at me) leaves me 6 inches short! I jumped and just managed to hold on – he had a grin as he knows I normally need a box to get up. He walked over to the bar, easily grabbed it and started swinging his legs like a little kid on a swing

Cheeky git… I always get my own back; he knows he pays the price. You see Ben, you think I keep losing count with reps, I don't, I just add up all your practical jokes for the week and add them to your rep total…easy. As Muttley would say "heeeeeeheeeeeeeheeeeeeeheeeeee".