This is a story 12 months in the making.

The Golden Spokes last year was my first race back on the bike after about a 10 year absence.  I entered the support race.  I got my new SPR kit off Peter on the morning of the event and headed off to the start line.  I don’t remember a lot from that day.  I do remember marking a couple of early breaks and then withdrawing after three laps a fat vomiting mess.  I was still learning how to ride without beta cells, and just wasn’t up to the challenge.  Red zone from go to whoa.

So three months ago I decided I was going to win the race year (yes, I’m referring to C-grade and no more).  I recruited Mark H as a training partner and spent the winter in the gym and trying to get in as many kms as possible without freezing to death.  Staying focused was tough – especially through the colds and flus this season which knocked both Mark and myself around for weeks at a time.  Rough stuff.

Still we both arrived at last weeks TTT with a hint of form, enough to get us thinking that winning the 2010 edition of the Spokes was possible.

So race day arrived.  I was down there early to help setup and eventually got my Goanna Oil on and went out for a warm up with Zac.  At the start line I found a bush for the traditional nervous pee and then rejoined the group.  There was a green armada starting c-grade.  14 out of the 21 riders fronting up for the 60km pancake were from SPR.

The plan was to sit in and conserve energy as much as possible for the entire ride, and then for Mark to lead me out from the bridge to the finish line.  We were concerned with the corners coming up to the finish and wanted to make sure that we were at the front by the time we hit the round about.

From the start everything was going to plan.  I was sitting in being well protected by the group and Mark was keeping a watchful eye on everything happening up at the front of the field.

The early action was all about Dave S.  He attacked a couple of times and and managed to stay off the front for well over a lap with another rider.  The peloton soon bought him back, only for him to go off again shortly after.

The pace wasn’t really on for the first few laps.  I felt like we weren’t really racing and everyone was just looking at each other.  This made me nervous so I put the word around for the guys to start moving up to the front.  Mark, Daniel and myself started turning the screws down the back straight.  The idea was just to put enough pressure on to make people in the pack show their intentions.  We then withdrew back into the pack while Zac, Ian, Jordan and others looked after proceedings at the front of the peloton.

Coming into the start of our 5th lap the plan went out the window.  I had noticed that coming into the corner before the start line (in front of the deli) the group was getting strung out each time we went through.  So as we came through I called out to Ian to put the pressure on.  By the time we got the front straight we had a gap on the group.  I rolled through to take my turn and before I knew it I had ridden off the front of the group.

So decision time… to go for it – not my style – or return to the embrace of the peloton and wait for the sprint.  I decided to put my head down for a few minutes and see what happens.   I looked back after a few minutes and was off the front by about 200m.  I decided to go for it.

I spent the whole 5th lap and most of the last off the front by myself.  At one point I must have had 500m gap on the group.  I was out of site going around the corners.  

With half a lap to go I was dreaming of glory.

Unfortunately my solo ride into the finishing straight didn’t happen.  As I rounded the hair pin turn the peloton descended upon me with fearsome speed.  I felt like I was about to get eaten alive.  Jen and a couple of other boys joined me off the front and we tried as we could to fend off the pack.  We got to within 2km from the finish before being brought back into the fold.

At this point Zac and Mark came around me.  I dug deep and got onto Marks wheel.  I was where we planned for me to be – although I seemed to take the hard road to get there. 

Understandably Mark wasn’t sure if I had the legs left to win – actually I don’t even think he knew I was on his wheel.  1500m from the finish and just before the turn into the island he called out to Zac to go for it.  Which he did.  It was actually a good move from Mark – he put Zac in a great spot to win.  I then called out to him to let him know I was there and had legs.  We had been passed by a couple of riders by then and Zac was disappearing into the distance looking like a sure thing.

As soon as he realised the leadout plan was on Mark burried himself.  He dragged me back up through the field as we came over the bridge.  We had an awesome moment when we split a rider, me passing on the left and Mark ducking underneath at the same time and then rejoining on the other side of the corner. 

Straightening up onto the finishing straight Zac had about 50m on us.  I was yelling at Mark “go! go! go!” and he burried himself until about 300m to go.  We got up to about 25m off Zac’s wheel and then I launched.  I was completely at my limit at this point but I kept thinking how hard we had worked and that I could still do it.  I managed to stamp on the pedals hard enough to draw up to Zac and then come over the top with a fast finishing Dave right in behind me.

Two handed salute and a big “yeah!” as I went over the line leading home an SPR trifecta.

This win was definitely one of my highlights.  It was great to have the plan come off like that, even with an absurd 20km solo effort which wasn’t meant to happen.  It was also fantastic to be able to see the difference a year of solid riding can make.    I was also brilliant to have worked with a guy like Mark who in all seriousness could have won the thing for himself.

So what a difference a year can make.  Bring on B grade and another year of suffering.