So how long is 24 hours? Answer: very long indeed, especially if you are cycling for more or less the entire time. Which is exactly what I was doing from 2pm on Saturday the 16th of July until 2pm on Sunday the 17th of July as a solo rider in the Kelheim 24 hour cycle race near Munich in Germany.

When I told people what I was planning to do, the most common response was the question “Why would you do that?” I guess, in essence it is to prove to myself that I can. But perhaps it is worthwhile giving a bit of background to help people better understand why I found myself at the starting line of such an event at 13:55 on Saturday the 16th of July.

In 2009 I got my first taste of endurance racing when I competed in a 24 hour 4-man team event at the famed Nurburgring in Germany. It was a tough event, with lots and lots of climbing, but our team which consisted of Peter (my younger and more athletically gifted brother), two super triathletes Kevin and Marc and myself actually did quite well finishing 39th out of 479 teams. This was a major achievement, because we were total novices in the art of endurance racing and in fact in hindsight I wonder if we could have been any less prepared. To be honest, it was our sheer collective stubbornness and refusal to give up that got us through the whole thing. The experience didn’t leave a sour taste in our mouths and in September 2010 to celebrate the anniversary of our maiden endurance event, the majority of team got together again to compete in the 2nd Race Around Ireland, which as the name suggests is a 2,200km jaunt around Ireland starting and finishing in Navan. The hitch? Well, it was non-stop, it was wet and it was most definitely windy. True to form we (the riders) arrived at the start line in as unprepared a state as was possible, but thanks to a fantastic support crew of Jeff, Caroline, John, Mike, Janos and Eamonn we managed to complete the course and even got second place in the 4-man team event.

The team after the Race Around Ireland in September 2010

I have to be honest and say that both of these events were painful and truly made me dig deep inside to wring out every last bit of energy I had. My motivation being that I did not want to let the team down. However, both times, upon completion I was left wondering if I would have been so committed had I been on my own. The question nagged me for a long time and I couldn’t answer it. So what better way to find out than to put myself in such a situation? I decided that I would do a solo 24 hour race. That way I would know the answer to the question for better or for worse. Plus, it is worth mentioning that I am a bit of a masochist and that even though there were numerous points in each of these endurance races where I was in extreme pain and questioned my sanity, I did in fact get some perverse pleasure out of doing something so extreme. These endurance-style races can be quite addictive! So when it came to setting my cycling goals for 2011 I decided that the 24 hour race in Kelheim which takes place about 90 minutes drive from my house in Munich was the perfect event for me and in February of 2011 I took the plunge and registered as a solo racer. Now all I had to do was prepare myself…

I am a physicist by training, but I am definitely not the most scientific or structured in my approach to training. My motto is quite simple - "if it hurts then it is probably doing some good", my second motto is "never spend to long off the bike". So with those two pearls of wisdom I embarked on perhaps the most scattered and unorganized training program known to man. I alternated between two to three time weekly interval sessions, 80 – 100km weekend training rides, weekday commutes, 50km weekend local open races with a couple of cyclosportives such as the Paris Roubaix Challenge, the Amstel Gold, Dreilaender Giro and the Maratona dles Dolomites thrown in for good measure.

Riding the Maratona dles Dolomites in July as part of my “scientific training plan”,

check out the psychedelic clothing that the organizers provided.

Now while this was indeed a jumbled preparation, it actually worked quite well, because each race and cyclosportive was a mini-goal in itself and this really helped with motivation. All in all my preparation resulted in about 6,000km being on the clock at the start of July 2011. I have learned to believe the mantra that you should work with what you have as opposed to worrying about what extra you should have done, so I was pretty comfortable with this level of preparation. I did consider doing a few longer rides and some night work, but I figured that these rides would only confirm to me how difficult the event would be and as a result have a negative influence.

Anyway, back to the race. The Kelheim 24 hour is well known in Germany and has been running for 15 years now. The main attraction to such an event is that it is not run on some sterile fenced-in course, rather it is on public roads starting and finishing in the central square of Kelheim, a small bustling town situated on the banks of the Danube with just over 15,000 residents. The route, which you try to cycle as many times as possible in 24 hours, is a circuit of 17.2km with 170m of climbing. The start is in the town centre on the cobblestones (thank god for my Paris-Roubaix training ;o)) and then goes almost immediately uphill, the climbing is in two parts, first an 8% section of about 2.5km which has some lovely switchbacks, then after a couple of kilometers of easy terrain there is a final uphill section of 1.5 km at about 10%, once the hills have been conquered it is a fast downhill to the banks of the Danube followed by a flat run in towards Kelheim. Then you try to do it all over again and again and again and….. well you get the idea.

The definitely not flat route for the event

In keeping with my borderline obsessive compulsive behavior, all pre-race preparation was done with hours to spare. There are only so many times you can check the tire pressure and that the shifting is ok. So, it was just a question of hanging around and waiting for the signal to head to the start line.

I am playing the waiting game, others are just plain playing.

What a poser. Just like his uncle Peter ;o)

13:45: Race time! I headed to the start line where I saw the competition, there was about 135 solo riders and about 150 5-man teams. They all looked fast and fit. Still, 24 hours is a long time and I was pretty confident that I was in good shape and wouldn’t make a fool out of myself. Besides which this is a race against oneself, no one else, and I had set myself a target of 35 laps for the 24 hours. It was ambitious but I figured it was possible. Now it was time to find out. The starter gun sounded and we were off. The first lap was a sort of celebration lap so all participating riders went off together, this made for an almost 900 strong peloton. Thankfully, despite all the eager beavers, there were no mishaps and we were underway. Game on, 24 hours and counting…

The start of the event. I am somewhere in the last 3rd.

The first few laps were fast and furious. Drafting was allowed, so all solo riders tagged along on the coattails of the team riders and as a result my first 4 laps were way ahead of schedule. I was logging a few minutes faster per lap than my target times. It was a dangerous game to play and while I knew that I needed to profit from this drafting, I was definitely going harder than I would have wanted to. I needed to be real careful not to blow up, which would have been all too easy when caught up in the moment. I decided that I needed to slow down and find my own tempo. If I felt like it later then I could always try to hop on one of the trains which passed by with all the frequency and efficiency one would expect from anything German.

What can I say? At first I thought I was hallucinating.

It is amazing how quickly you become familiar with a route. After a few laps I knew to the nearest metre where I had to push, where I could rest, where the steep sections were, when the next turn was etc.. Some people don’t like this but personally I found it kept the mind active, which is half the battle in these long distance events.

Daragh doing a brilliant job as support crew, by the end he had even perfected the fine art of the mechanics push

I remember the first 8 or so laps quite clearly. After that they all blur into each other. All I knew was that I was making good time and was slightly ahead of my projections. At this rate I could probably grab a prolonged rest at some point during the night and still just about hit the 35 laps. This thought in itself was motivating.

Afternoon passed into evening with nothing of real interest to report. I was feeling good and going strong. I found a nice rhythm and the lap-count was steadily increasing. I stopped briefly at 21:00 to put the lights on the bike, change into some warmer clothing for the night and also to put on the mandatory hi-vis vest (shudder). Then with no delay it was hop back onto the bike for lap number…?? Well lap number whatever.

At about 23:00 I had my one and only true mental low-point. I was cycling along when suddenly the immensity of what I was trying to do hit me like a brick. I had been cycling for 9 hours and still had another 3 hours (a.k.a. about 90km) to cycle before I even made the half way point. Ouch! It was strange because it was only a thought, physically the fitness was there and the strength was there, but the moment I started thinking negatively was the exact moment that I start feeling physical pains that 5 minutes previously I had not even noticed. I was finding that my feet were getting sore from being in the same position for so long. My hands were sore for similar reasons etc… After a stern talking to about my poor attitude I managed to get back on track and combated the physical pain by moving my toes inside the shoes and every now and then unclip and shake them around a bit. It seemed to work.

Throughout the day I had noticed that the bulk of the spectators, and there was lots of them, were at two specific locations. The first being the start finish area in the town square where in typical German fashion there was a specially-setup Biergarten and live entertainment until midnight on the Saturday and from 08:00 on the Sunday, the second place was near the top of the climb in the woods. Everyone was very encouraging, but what I did not realize was that the people on the climb were having a 24 hour event of their own, a 24 hour party. Yes, believe it or not they stayed there for the full 24 hours drinking (beer and lots of it) and listening and dancing to extremely loud music. I remember hearing ACDC, fat boy slim, Michael Jackson and all the latest dance floor toons. Let me tell you that at 01:00 in the morning it was a real motivator when you were approaching the top. They were very drunk, but also very supportive.

At 02:30 I saw that I was ahead of schedule and therefore could offer myself the luxury of a prolonged break. I did not feel tired or anything, but being a novice I was unsure how I would feel later on in the race without any rest. So, I stopped for the standard tea, change of clothes and then had a small 60 minute nap. When my alarm went off I jumped up feeling fully refreshed and within 5 minutes I was back on the bike. Looking back I think the rest was a good idea, though I really don’t know if I needed it.

Cycling at night is wonderful, it is peaceful (well except for the top of the hill where the parties were going full blast) and relaxing. I really enjoyed it. As day broke I found myself smiling to myself, the sense of achievement was starting to dawn on me. I had a quick tea, sandwich and clothes change at 07:30, now there was only about 6 hours to go. I knew how to cycle for 6 hours, I could do that… The countdown had begun.

The breakfast baguette – very very very tasty

Somewhere between 09:00 and 10:00 I start doing mental arithmetic. How many more laps could I fit in before the end? Could I hit my 35 lap target? Unfortunately, due to both mental and physical fatigue I was questioning whether completing 35 laps was really that important? I mean it was just a number, not that much different from 33 or 34. Clearly, a small part of me wanted to take the foot of the accelerator and do as little as possible and cycle the remaining time as slow as possible. Thinking like this annoyed me and I remember saying to myself that I had not come here to faff around, because if I did then I would only regret it afterwards when the pain was gone. I remember thinking to myself “HTFU man, you are here to do the best you can, not to find the best excuses not to”. So after much gritting of teeth I decided that I was going to get those 35 laps no matter what. My sleep-deprived-on-the-bike mental arithmetic told me that if I pushed reasonably hard for a few hours I could still do it, though it would be tight. So for the next few hours I pushed hard on the hill and on the flat tried to stick on to the back of as many passing trains as possible. With about 2 hours to go it was clear I was going to hit my target, with a bit to spare. Now I could relax and just enjoy the atmosphere.

Nearly there

Suddenly, it was 13:00 and I was on my last lap. To be honest, it was more of a procession than a racing lap. I enjoyed looking at the now familiar markings and thanking the fans on the hill for their wonderful round-the-clock support. What I found strange was that I also felt a sense of mourning that the experience was about to end. Coming into to the barricaded section I was astonished to see a colourful mass of thousands upon thousands of spectators waving flags, sounding horns and shouting support at the top of their voices. It was fantastic. Then I heard the MC announcing my name and that I was from Ireland and had cycled a grand total of 35 laps (602km), which would eventually be good enough for 22nd place.

The end!

It was over, mission accomplished! Did it hurt? Absolutely, there is no denying you suffer both mentally and physically in such an event, but it is not as bad as people make it out to be! Would I do it again? You bet I would! Anyone care to join me?