Dunsfold - all the work, none of the glory
The day didn't start well. I was a little hung over and tired after a late night celebrating Patricks 40th birthday again! My little boy, now 9 months, showed complete disregard for the fact I had been partying and woke up bright and cheery at 5am.
I then left the house late, so the drive was spent worrying about missing the start. I shot straight past my exit on the A3, further increasing my risk of being too late. I drove down the lanes a little irresponsibly and managed to sign on just in time.
To be honest it was so cold and wet, being too late wouldn't have upset me too much.
The first lap seemed to take forever, with muddy spray splattering me almost constantly. I found it impossible to get warm. I decided to move up to the front of the bunch, but when I got there I decided to carry on straight of the front. This was not the game plan. But the weather had made me impatient and so I had launched my attack with 48 miles to go. Approximately 43 miles early.
When I first looked back I had about 12 comrades, I kept the pace high to keep the break alive, and on my next glance over my shoulder I was left with just 3.
My companions generously let me do all the work for the next few laps, but by then I was determined we were going to stay away for the rest of race and I was happy with the work load. Every time someone took over from me the pace dropped a little at it made me nervous. Having committed myself to the break, I found myself taking the lead more often than I should and for long stints, especially the windy section, where time over the main field is to be made.
For the last 3 laps we worked okay as a unit, though I noticed the young In Gear rider being work shy.
On the last lap I figured I'd put in a huge effort and ride away from the 3 amigos. However my nemisis cramp reappeared almost as soon as I stepped on the pedals and the reverse happened. I lost contact with the others almost immediately.
It's lonely riding on your own, especially when you are cold and tired, trying to ride of cramp always aware the main field will be closing fast.
I got to the climb to the fnish still away from the pack, surprising as my speed dropped dramatically as I tried to stretch of the cramp. On the flat a kind specatator informed me they were sprinting behind me and to push hard. I gave it my all. It didn't feel like trying togo fast, just ignoring the pain.
I survived. 4th place after all that. It was so close I was given the same time as the bunch!
I shivered in the village hall,got changed, wiped my face clean as best I could and had a cup of tea.
A couple of riders said hello, expressed surprise I hadn'twon as they felt I was the strongest rider. Someone else said he tried but couldn't keep up with me. All very nice comments which mean a lot as I train in isolation, squeezing everything around work and home.
If I hadn't have been to a party the night before? May be not gone so idiotically early? Who knows? Who cares? I raced and really enjoyed it. Nice people, great race. 8 points and not 15. That's okay.
I then left the house late, so the drive was spent worrying about missing the start. I shot straight past my exit on the A3, further increasing my risk of being too late. I drove down the lanes a little irresponsibly and managed to sign on just in time.
To be honest it was so cold and wet, being too late wouldn't have upset me too much.
The first lap seemed to take forever, with muddy spray splattering me almost constantly. I found it impossible to get warm. I decided to move up to the front of the bunch, but when I got there I decided to carry on straight of the front. This was not the game plan. But the weather had made me impatient and so I had launched my attack with 48 miles to go. Approximately 43 miles early.
When I first looked back I had about 12 comrades, I kept the pace high to keep the break alive, and on my next glance over my shoulder I was left with just 3.
My companions generously let me do all the work for the next few laps, but by then I was determined we were going to stay away for the rest of race and I was happy with the work load. Every time someone took over from me the pace dropped a little at it made me nervous. Having committed myself to the break, I found myself taking the lead more often than I should and for long stints, especially the windy section, where time over the main field is to be made.
For the last 3 laps we worked okay as a unit, though I noticed the young In Gear rider being work shy.
On the last lap I figured I'd put in a huge effort and ride away from the 3 amigos. However my nemisis cramp reappeared almost as soon as I stepped on the pedals and the reverse happened. I lost contact with the others almost immediately.
It's lonely riding on your own, especially when you are cold and tired, trying to ride of cramp always aware the main field will be closing fast.
I got to the climb to the fnish still away from the pack, surprising as my speed dropped dramatically as I tried to stretch of the cramp. On the flat a kind specatator informed me they were sprinting behind me and to push hard. I gave it my all. It didn't feel like trying togo fast, just ignoring the pain.
I survived. 4th place after all that. It was so close I was given the same time as the bunch!
I shivered in the village hall,got changed, wiped my face clean as best I could and had a cup of tea.
A couple of riders said hello, expressed surprise I hadn'twon as they felt I was the strongest rider. Someone else said he tried but couldn't keep up with me. All very nice comments which mean a lot as I train in isolation, squeezing everything around work and home.
If I hadn't have been to a party the night before? May be not gone so idiotically early? Who knows? Who cares? I raced and really enjoyed it. Nice people, great race. 8 points and not 15. That's okay.
posted by Alex Kirk at
8:52 AM
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