By Paul
35 of us lined up in the 40-44 age group at Hillingdon on Sunday and, having picked up a 3rd place on Wednesday night on the same course I was confident and in cracking shape. By Friday morning I was leaner than I’d ever been and had one more easy ride planned to give the bike and legs one last outing before the big day.
Last year I came 15th in this event having made a dreadful tactical error but I drew the positives from that i.e. I was capable of at least a top 10 on fitness alone. This year I had already placed 26th out of 57 finishers in the 76.8 mile Road Race two weeks earlier (I didn’t even finish last year!) and I had had a great run up to this weekend. I wouldn’t say I was looking to ‘podium’ but I certainly wasn’t afraid of anyone and, at national level, that was a first.
That was until Friday’s loosener when I crashed in training!
On Saturday, the day before the Championships, I woke up with more red than white on my bed clothes and was nursing cuts and bruises to my hands, elbow, hip and knee and seeking Physio on my hip. If ever there was a time to just man the f up it was now so I popped a couple of ibuprofen (ssshhh don’t tell anti-doping), iced my hip and got a good night’s sleep.
I woke up, ready. No more feeling sorry for myself, let’s do this.
What happened next has left me embarrassed, annoyed, slightly depressed and downright pissed off.
30 minutes into the (estimated) 75 minute race a gap opened in the peloton. Until that point I had been happy following wheels and closing a few gaps with consummate ease. There were enough strong riders in this race to close gaps for me at times so I was relaxed and my hip was beginning to ease up. This gap was different though as one by one riders were jumping across and I was biding my time, ready to pounce on the right wheel, catch a lift across and recover when the panic was over. Too many riders were doing the same thing and I saw my team mate Barny jump over the gap from the back of the remaining 20 or so riders in my group.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing and I should’ve jumped on Barny’s wheel but in the mayhem that is bike racing I made a decision that up a slope into the wind a 62 kilo rapidly accelerating team mate wasn’t the wheel for me. It was a big mistake as Barny was the last rider to make the selection as 15 riders sailed up the road without me and my companions. I had to ride across the gap now, RIGHT NOW. I jumped from my group taking an experienced rider with me. Good, he has been around the block, he has seen the danger, he’s strong , we’ll work together and it’ll be ok. I flicked my elbow, signalling for him to come through. There was a delay. “Come on” I shouted. Normally I’m assertive but this was life or death in my eyes and he knew it in my voice. He came through but his turn was weak and we were going backwards not forwards. Our group caught us but that meant there were 20 of us now all hoping someone else would do the work to ‘save’ their race.
It was over.
Yes we raced our own race for 16th and yes I did some huuuuuge turns and tried to jump away on several occasions but the National Championships, the race I had come for, was being contested about 1 minute up the road.
Gutted.
I will wear that Champion’s jersey one day very soon you mark my words. I have already started training for June 2016.
PB
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