Lining up at the start of Masters’ race at Hillingdon on Wednesday night I knew I was ticking quite a few of these boxes but that ‘successful breakway’ had eluded me this far. In fact the last time I was in a winning breakaway I was racing in a 3rd/4th Category race but here there were plenty of 2nd Cats, a few 1st Cats and there was a wealth of experience including some past and present National Champions.
Throughout the race, as I always do, I got impatient and went with and instigated a lot of moves. I enjoy going to a race and actually ‘racing the race’ instead of ‘hanging on’ or ‘sitting in’.
2 riders went away off the front quite early on and I thought it too early to go with them so that left 40 or so of us in the rain, trying to attack off the front and bridge the gap to no avail.
Cornering in the rain is never fun at race pace and I always let out a bit of air from my tyres to improve my grip and because it reduces the risk of punctures. There’s always that trade-off between those two positives and more rolling resistance but on Wednesday I experimented with a slightly ‘flatter’ tyre. I don’t know if it was all the cornering I’ve been practicing and teaching this year or the lower pressures but I found I was gaining on pretty much everyone and felt confident doing it, pressing my outside foot down onto the pedal to push the bike into the floor and equally pressing the bars down at the front. I was on my game.
5 laps or 5 miles to go and the two escapees were still up the road but people were beginning to tire after a flurry of attacks seeing as the race was in its closing stages. I was here to be aggressive and I hadn’t finished yet. I didn’t fancy a bunch sprint in the wet anyway.
Tactically, the last 5 laps are a good place to attack as a lot of riders won’t waste their own energy chasing any more as they are saving their legs for the bunch sprint. Also from a tactical perspective, if you attack when everyone is tired, even though you’re tired, they ‘think’ you’re stronger. This sport isn’t just about fitness, in fact it’s about so many things, the psychological side being a huge part. What’s more they can’t see the pain on my face if I am disappearing up the road lol. I mentioned ‘balls’ earlier: I don’t care about ‘blowing up’. It’s only a bloody hobby after all so I was prepare to risk everything, unlike some of my competitors………
So I attacked.
With 4 and a half laps to go, on the slight uphill I leapt off the front and rode hard through the left and then right-hand corners, capitalising on my improved cornering technique.
Mark Cavendish talked about getting in the front echelon in the Tour a couple of years ago, describing it as being like “standing on ice that is about to crack; you’ve got at most 5 seconds to get out of there or you’re stuffed!” When an attack goes up the road and more than 5 seconds have lapsed, you’re thinking: “if I don’t go now I am going to have to expend far too much energy getting across to it”. Too late. It’s gone.
That’s what happened on Wednesday, I was away, clear of the peloton by some way as I saw ‘4 laps to go’ on the lapboard. Now all I had to do was ride as fast as a peloton that was rapidly accelerating towards the climax of its race.
Shit.
I had made a huge effort on the uphill to get away from a group that is averaging 26 mph, I am now riding into a headwind and, a few seconds from now, my reward will be that uphill section again.
I started to question my decision but I was fully committed and the small group of spectators at the start/finish line spurred me on. Around the back and up the drag I decided to count from 30 down to 1. I made it over the top and took the 2 wet corners even quicker, taking a few risks but I needed all the help I could get.
I glanced across and caught a glimpse of my pursuers, the gap wasn’t coming down, this was good.
Past the lap board, 3 to go and now I had stopped breathing; instead I was gasping, panting and wheezing.
“I’ll never hold on”
“I can do this”
I was getting light headed, my legs were screaming and I remembered that every single time that I had ever tried a solo break I had failed.
“Not today” I said to myself as I passed to laps to go, wishing, oh so wishing it was 1 lap to go.
My arms were hurting!! I couldn’t feel my legs any more.
I could no longer count from 30 down to 1, it was too long so started at 10 and just split the penultimate lap into 20 second chunks.
1 lap to go. The most painful bell I have ever heard, by a country mile.
I still had a few hundred metres but now I started rationalising with myself, saying “oh well, at least I tried. Mind you, they might start playing cat and mouse behind if nobody wants to lead out the sprint so I went up a gear for the first time since my attack. I was now well and truly in the hurt locker as I ascended the back straight for the final time. Through the corners and up the rise, then left into the finishing straight. I thought about the numerous TV Commentators who always ‘tell’ the rider not to look back so I didn’t, terrified of being swamped at any second.
I could see the finish as I cranked it up a few gears and got out of the saddle.
Fear of loss is a much much stronger motivator than sense of gain. Right now I was absolutely bloody terrified of getting caught and having to wait 3 more years for this moment to come around again.
I cross the line and looked behind to see the peloton only 50 meters away.
I had done it. Ok it was 3rd place as we never caught the early break but I had soloed my way to th finish against a group of riders who I respect enormously.
I was elated and I was in pieces.
I pulled over as everyone passed me, gasping and unsure what day of the week it was as my team mate Steve congratulated me.
It was an awesome night, one that has given me so much confidence and self-belief to take forward.
I learnt a lot too:
- It would have been easy for me to stop believing in my incessant attacking strategy but I continued to believe in my process. How can you get better at anything if you don’t practice it and learn from your mistakes?
- It’s ok to run slightly lower tyre pressure.
- You don’t need oversocks to protect your shoes in the rain!
- Practicing your cornering really matters
Two more things:
- On the way there Steve and I were stuck in traffic in the p*ssing rain wondering why on earth we were going to a race! I really really don’t like racing in the rain. We’ll by facing that head on it turns out I now do!!
- I learnt that you can always go harder but I’ve told you before haven’t I??!!
PB
Ok the picture’s not from Hillingdon but you could have brought your camera?!
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