Close but no nineteen

[Insert sentence here making an excuse for not posting for so long when it’s actually due to pure procrastination]. Welcome back folks. As per usual it’s fair to say these last couple of weeks have involved a few ups and downs.

One realisation that this time has certainly yielded is that I am not designed for closed circuit racing, courtesy of a couple of events that proved to be a waste of time. It’s disheartening to be dropped not because my fitness is poor but instead due to sub-par bike handling skills. Unfortunately I’ve had one severe injury too many and realistically I’m never going to excel in races that often depend upon your ability to go round tight corners at high speed in very close proximity to others. From now on I’ll only be doing Road Races.

That brings us to set of the killer excuses I’ve prepared for the discussion of my rather embarrassing performance last weekend. In hindsight entering a road race in Devon was a questionable decision, having trained mostly for Time Trials and still being at least 3kg above race weight it was always going to be a tough one. A further mistake was made in the form of a long training ride in the heat three days before the race. On paper sixty miles at a medium pace doesn’t sound too tough but add in temperatures in excess of thirty degrees celsius, running out of water ten miles from the end and having time trialled the day before and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

The disaster in question came in the form of what I suspect was mild heatstroke, what should have been a short and easy ride the following day turned into a struggle to get home. I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt that bad on a bike. By raceday my legs certainly felt better but by no means fully recovered, nonetheless I’d paid good money to compete and I was never going to pull out.

Remarkably it started off very well, unusually I’d managed to start in the perfect position, about twelfth wheel if I remember correctly. A few miles later I found myself doing a turn on the front and at that point the first warning sign emerged, already my right leg felt tight and sore which it really shouldn’t have done given that I was taking it as easily as I could get away with. On the first long climb I slipped down about twenty places despite my best efforts.

I managed to hang on for the remainder of the first lap without incident, not counting the chief commissaire stopping the race to tell a few riders off for crossing white lines. For the most part the first part of lap two was more sedate, I managed to get myself back up to the very front of the race and with ten miles to go I dared myself to think it might go better than expected. By this point the bunch had almost entirely disintegrated, I was third wheel in the leading group of around ten – all I had to do was hang on.

That was when a particularly tough climb came up, at the halfway stage my legs gave up the ghost. It’s hard to describe for anyone who hasn’t had the experience, the weird thing is that it doesn’t hurt – there’s not enough gas left in the tank for you to push yourself that hard. Within seconds it was as if I was riding backwards. At the top of the climb the second group on the road caught me, I tried to hang onto the last wheel but to very little avail. Soon I was simply trying to nurse myself across the finish line, let’s just say I didn’t cross it with my head held high.

There wasn’t much time to reflect on that disappointing performance. In two days time I had another event, a ten mile time trial on a course known for yielding personal bests. A couple of weeks back I managed a respectable 20:09, four seconds short of the club record and tantalisingly close to the magic sub-20. Due to the hilly nature of the local terrain there aren’t any quick courses within easy reach, meaning a two hour drive was on the cards.

It’s fair to say that the journey down proved to be rather eventful. You would think setting off over three hours before my start time would have been ample, sadly I underestimated just how bad the traffic was going to be on a weekday. I had to resort to phoning the organiser and asking him not to give my place away, there was no hope of making it before registration closed. In the end we arrived fifteen minutes before I was due to set off. That was just about enough time to collect my number, change into my skinsuit, drive to the start and get the bike ready. I made it with seconds to spare, 25 to be exact. With no warm up whatsoever this TT was really going to hurt.

First impressions were surprisingly good, I’d made a change to the bike position the week before – adjusting the angle of the extensions to make it easier to get into the aero tuck. If I do say so myself it worked a treat, not needing to focus on keeping my head low made it easier to concentrate on the actual effort. I’m not sure if knowing what was to come made it better or worse, at those speeds everything is exaggerated – a small hill that you might barely notice on a training ride will practically become a mountain.

At the halfway point my average speed was a surprisingly healthy 31.4, I knew however that nothing was set in stone. The outward leg of the course was certainly easier than the return and it was going to be a battle to keep that average from dropping too much before I finally made it to the finish line. Overtaking four other riders in the next two miles provided an invaluable morale boost. With a kilometre to go I was right on the rivet, I know an effort is truly maximal when I start feeling sick and my vision starts to blur and on this occasion both of those lovely sensations manifested themselves.

I crossed the line in the very annoying time of 20:01, two seconds short of my ultimate goal. By no means was I disappointed however, taking another club record and finishing 14th out of 88 was better than I could have expected with the less than ideal run up to the event. After the disaster of Sunday I really needed a good ride and this one did the job perfectly.

Finally I think I’ve found my niche, it’s only taken six years of Cycling to realise that I’m a natural Time Triallist. With a few more events lined up before the season comes to an end I’m hoping I’ll manage to get that pesky 19. For now however I’m focusing on a 25 ten days from now, with another mammoth journey coming up it’s not one to take lightly. As for the long term the ultimate goal is the qualify for the national 10 within the next couple of seasons. Wish me luck for I shall definitely be in need of it.

Thanks for reading.

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