Why do people bother going on training camps abroad?
If you’re like many cyclists or athletes then you’ll be working your buttocks off to pay bills, while trying to fit training around that schedule and you’ll understand how exhausting it is.
Work, eat, train, repeat.
We chose to go out to Calpe for a ‘mid-season’ training camp (I think I’m actually happy to end my season there… don’t tell my coach!) and I am so grateful we did because it is the perfect location, close to the mountains, yet on our doorstep we had beaches, shopping, cafes and restaurants.
We managed to find a beautiful Spanish home on AirBnB for rent, it was far bigger than expected and a true example of a traditional home – to which we will definitely be returning because the host was also fantastic.
Let me tell you, riding in luxurious weather is like hitting jack pot, along with the glorious views that are postcard ready and worthy of filling your stomach with butterflies. Occasionally the heat can be somewhat draining, if you’re not adapted or like me, you bring a fully covered bin lid as opposed to the highly recommended, vented cullender your partner advised on. Was it worth the sweat? Duh, can’t believe that’s even a question.
Anyway, onto the facts… people partake in training camps abroad because it allows them to do big blocks of training without the added ‘life stress’. They can recover better, ride with friends or partners while lapping up the scenes, baby bum smooth tarmac, coffee good enough to drink your body weight in, cakes and pastries only foreign countries manage to perfect and the pleasant, welcoming homeowners and drivers of the country (minus the idiotic tourists, who can’t wait 30seconds to get to the beach, you always know they’re tourists by the driving, but it’s often confirmed by the fact they are in a HIRE CAR).
We spent 11 days in Calpe, I’ve never been on a ‘proper’ training camp while actually being a ‘cyclist’ and I’ve never ridden in that kind of heat, but I’d do it again. I’ve also never really done a massive block of training without rest days; I can confirm that bit was a solid recipe to becoming a ghostly shell. In 10 days (we travelled and chilled out on the last one… could not pedal bicycle) we rode for 30 hours with 11,000m of climbing, alright it might not be a lot to some people but within that time EVERY DAMN DAY had intervals… HARD intervals and haters gonna hate, but for me, that's a HUGE achievement (I usually do 7 hours a week....).
On the first day James realised the Vuelta would be passing over a climb that was ‘close’ to us… emphasis on ‘close’ because it turned out it wasn’t my definition of close. We decided that we had to ride and watch it, because a university pal was racing in it for EF! An opportunity I’m so grateful we got, although a damn hard first day because we ended up riding in the heat of the day… we left at 11am and temperature averaged 36 degrees.
We met a lovely couple at a water fountain who arrange cycling holidays out there and they gave us some advice on the best place to watch (we never made it there). Turned out we were mega early, so we rolled back down Puerto de Tudons to a local café for some food… we were starting to perish. Stupidly we spent too much time eating and not enough time paying attention to how quickly the race was moving, so ended up having to SMASH it to the top, and when I say SMASH, James (the man who tells us he can’t climb) dropped me, completely out of sight, leaving me to be responsible for my own wellbeing.
This lead me to start cursing at myself, while bumping into what seemed like the whole of Spain’s motorbike convoy, muddled amongst some convoy cars, doing a million miles an hour. I stopped a few times because I was worried the peloton was going to come flying around one of the blind bends and I’d be that idiot that took out the peloton. By this stage I was very stressed, I really wanted to get to the top and find James, but I was also very scared and incompetent with very little knowledge on how this worked…
The heat was also up to 46 degrees, and I can’t explain the amount of sweat dripping from me and I think the only thing keeping me upright was the speed I was stress-pedalling.
Eventually a motorbike stopped to clear the road and told me I could keep going but slowly, so on every bend I peeked around it like a naughty child, looking for any bikes and then on the straight’s I practically sprinted to make up some time.
The crowds were great… I even got cheered on, that lightened my mood and stopped me worrying about being scared ha. I finally made it to the top and practically fell into the bush as another motorbike flew past telling me to move NOW, turned out, I didn’t need to get a cat4tat on my sock, because the head of the race was still a good 10 minutes away… typical.
Anyway, I found James (with my salty pout, at being left to fend for myself amongst a convoy of extremely fast and scary men) and we saw Simon Carr who also saw James and heard the cheering!
It was at this point my impending doom struck me… we had to ride home as well. I can confirm, some work is needed on descending and my over-riding fear of falling off a cliff or hitting something head on. But it turned out to be a great first day!
The riding continued and the beauty astounded me more every day, along with the heat. We did however master that one, we ended up trying to ride as soon as it got light (7am’ish) but sometimes we failed at that and didn’t get up early enough so had to suffer in average temperatures of 36-degrees as punishment. We did also do two evening rides, which were not any cooler but we did pop into the sea on our way home.
I got myself some new power numbers while suffering and a wonderful PB up Coll de Rates, on my second time up it. I also got some mega compliments from a lovely guy and his son trying to follow me up, which boosted my confidence. However, they did find me melted to the ground at the top, wondering if my life was about to end.
This set the tone for the week… somewhat empty legs, a little moaning here and there but a hell of a lot of fun! For the first time since I started riding, I didn’t worry about climbing, how quickly I could do it or how far I could ride,, I didn't compare myself to my peers, I just enjoyed riding my bike with my boyfriend and I loved every minute... including the suffering.
Most rides we’d be having coffee and (1st) lunch on our way home by about 11:30/12, we’d sit there for over nearly two hours just taking in the picturesque views and tranquil mood and the lack of weight and stress on our shoulders, before deciding to get a move on to avoid extra suffering in the ever increasing heat.
We’d go home, shower, eat some more food (always starving) then take a stroll to the beach, weaving through the beautiful streets. We'’d spend the rest of the afternoon at the beach, dipping in and out of the sea while playing games and being true athletes, we’d fill the snack bag with crisps, biscuits and sandwiches for the beach trips with copious amounts of water.
We used the sea as a bit of an iced bath for recovery… it was super cold, even in such hot temperatures. The sea was so unbelievably salty… a few times I got taken out by waves and I have never tasted so much salt. We also bought some goggles and did a little snorkelling, there were some reefs close to the land with some stunning fish.
With two days to go I cracked, hard; I was a shell of my former self in everything I did for two solid days. I could barely pedal the bike, but I made sure I did, because I couldn’t resist riding my bike in such beauty. On the Saturday, James planned a lovely long route for us including Guadalest climb, he’d also managed to buy bars that had 9g of carbs in them without me realising… so not only was I a shell, but I was also a very carb deprived hangry shell.
It got to the point where I had to stop… I just couldn’t see an end to the climbing and I was so cracked I thought I was going to fall off my bike, turned out I’d stopped a mere 600m from the top…. Fuming. I was also hungry and turning into a half sloth half demon.
We found some food in a local village after the descent and then had to rag it home because James had his lateral flow test booked... oh the pain of an empty body in outrageous heat ragging it for many km's...
On the last day of riding, we went up a hell of a climb near where we stayed, although I can’t remember the name, there were parts that were 17% average (pre-warned by James, after we’d already started the climb…). Of course, James left me behind to suffer alone because I was still in 'shell' status, I eventually found James at the side of the road waiting for me, which turned out to be the top, a welcome sight as I thought we had more climbing. I had no idea that I’d already done the majorly steep bits – much to James’s annoyance, but my relief! Haha.
I’m sure he made me climb Coll de Rates afterwards before turning around for home because I didn't suffer as much on the steep bits… just to make sure I was cracked.
That ride concluded our mega trip, do I get why people go on training camps? 100%, will I be going again? yes without a doubt - gosh that's the lifestyle I'd jump at, absolute life goals. Would I recommend not taking any rest days… probably not, not unless your accustomed to it because that’s a real killer, as I found out. I’d always recommend taking your own bike, as someone who is very sensitive to the smallest of changes, I don’t feel the risk is worth injury.
I’m still waiting on my training gains though, people said I’d see them immediately (lies); turns out my legs were accidentally left in Spain with my heart…
P.S. if you need any route recommendations, AirBnB advice or any advice at all, please feel free to contact me!
Also a reminder to not compare yourself to others, don't compare your riding to anyone, not me, not pros... nobody because we are all at different stages of our journey. There will always be someone who feels the need to put your hard work or achievements down, ignore them, they're jealous. It doesn't matter how much you do compared to others or pros, as long as you accomplish what you want, so go out there and smash your own goals!
Ride bikes, eat cake, be happy :)
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