… as we reached the bottom of the last climb, the four of us have been off the front for an entire lap now. Suffering from heat exhaustion desperately trying to keep the chasers at bay. The three others included a young NDCC rider in his teens, a South West Cycle Club rider in his 30’s and another rider on an orange Willier also in his 30’s. We had broken away from a dwindled field (originally 30 strong) on the penultimate lap’s climb and kept the pace on to stay off the front. It is clear I am the weakest rider within the group, unable to pull equal turns without blowing up. I managed to get away with sitting out a few roll throughs as I was determined to be there at the finish. Thankfully the strongest guy doesn’t always win the race I kept saying to myself. There was no way I would accept being dropped from our leading group. I figured this was my best chance to get onto the podium for the first time. Four off the front with a sizeable gap.

Moments ago though, my body was shutting down. I had no water left, and was desperately needing hydration. The sapping heat took its toll and it felt harsh. We had a pace car following and I thought I would try my luck as I turned to the car and gestured for a water bottle. No response. Oh dear. I turned back to the front and concentrated on getting back onto the last wheel of our breakaway group and told myself, you just got to go the rest of the way without water. Only a punishing climb and descent to the finish… hmm.. it occurred to me I may not make it in my current state. Then, a few honks later, the black commodore station wagon pulls up next to me. I look inside the opened window to see the commissaire in his air conditioned cabin holding a bottle out for me. A few thoughts went through my head at this point: I would love to be sitting where you are right now; what a massive relief you have water for me; cool, this feels super pro. I took out one of my empty bottles from its cage and threw it into the car and grabbed the one out held for me. The first thing I noticed was how cold it felt – so good. I shoved it into my bottle cage and went all out to get back onto the group as the commissaire shouts ‘you owe me one!’.  At the first opportunity I started drinking. The cold water gave me life and re-invigorated my mind and body. “Come on” I said, “I can do this!”

As we turned left and looked up the Chittering Rd climb we all new this was it. The last climb began, and everyone gave whatever was left. The SWCC guy simply powered off the front, clearly the strongest of us four and we would not see him again till podium presentations. And then there was three. A high tempo started to reveal cracks in the NDCC rider and as Willier and I continue to stamp up the hill NDCC blows up surprisingly and we form a gap. About 100m from the crest, I now started to get dropped by Willier. That sinking feeling arises as you see the wheel in front of you agonizingly drift slowly away as the increasing pain throughout your body slows you down like your dragging a lead weight. I crest with a 30m gap to Mr Willier in front and fire myself up. ‘This is the smallest gap you will have to close, right here, right now. If you let him go you’ll never see him again’, I said to myself. Shifting to the 53×11 I ignore the pain of lactic acid drowning my muscles and go into sprint mode to get back onto his wheel as we descend.  Just when you think your body can’t go through anymore pain after climbing that hill, a new level of hurt is reached.

I make it back on, sit-in to recover, and re-asses the situation. I thought, SWCC off the front and too strong to catch, even with the two of us. The only issue here was being caught by NDCC rider behind and not making the podium. So my motivation was to work together with Mr Willier to assure our podium places. I would be very happy with 2^nd or 3^rd. A left turn and a 3km decent to the finish line. We took turns to share the load but with 1km to go my legs give in and begin to cramp up. Mr Willier’s wheel again slowly drifts further away and I know this time I won’t be getting back on. My attention turns to the rear as I scope out the chasing NDCC rider. No sight of him. ‘Keep pushing a high cadence to prevent more cramps’ I thought. I round the last corner and see the finish line 250m up the road. Mr Willier is 40m in front and I hear a spectator say ‘go on, you can catch him’. My ignorance to the physical state of my body allows my mind to think, ‘yeah, I can catch him’ so I try to go into sprint mode one last time and after about half a second my body clearly overrides my mind and I sit up at my limit and roll through the finish in 3^rd place.

Such a rewarding feeling for the novice racer that I am. However what really makes racing so much fun is not just the competition and race tactics, but the comradery, support and recognition we receive within the SPR family and cycling community as a whole. The large number of genuine human beings within the club naturally result in many SPR supporting and participating in races, and this is the key for inspiring others to partake.

Committing to a race license this year has re-framed my outlook and attitude towards cycling. Not by much though. In fact, not much has changed in terms of number of rides per week (3), kilometres put into the legs (<150km), nutrition, lifestyle, well… maybe an added excuse to buy nicer things for your bike. The only change has been putting myself amongst race conditions and testing yourself. And this small change has such a grand effect. It is a means to inspire you to train harder and smarter, and to also challenge you and take you out of your comfort zone. Every race gives you a conclusion to all the hard work we put into our training rides and it reveals your strengths and weaknesses, and motivates you to concentrate on them for next time. Race conditions take your performance to a different, harder, faster, more painful level in which your body will surprise you. And it is the same for everyone. Because of this, racing is the best (and most fun) way to make you faster! So I encourage those, like me, who love their cycling, train hard but yet to experience the thrill and closure of racing – get a race license and put your legs to the test. It’s fun, it’s rewarding, it’s inspiring, and it’s easy to do.