A day I didn’t expect to come around so early in my cycling adventure and certainly a day I knew I wasn’t technically prepared for.
I entered, based on the fact that I probably wouldn’t get accepted as I was so new to cycling. I knew it would be a privilege to actually be there in the race, but I also knew my handling confidence wasn’t where it needed to be and actually, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough.
Turns out, I was half right… My handling confidence in a bunch is limited but my strength was there, and I proved to myself how strong I am with some crazy power PB’s. But my technical confidence let me down.
We’d gone up on Friday, as James was meant to race the crit. Sadly, he was too unwell with his asthma to do so, but it did mean we got to enjoy our time there and get fully engulfed in the atmosphere – which, might I add, was a tidal wave of emotions and support.
Saturday came around and we went for a group recce, which was lovely: everyone was happy to be there and wanted to help. Strangely, I wasn’t nervous, but I was starting to feel slightly unwell… and struggling to hold on to my ‘I am invincible’ mentality.
The descent on the course wasn’t technical for those experienced riders, it was very fast into a 90-degree right hander (which just happened to have a lovely cluster of drains in the middle), and then a switchback into a left-hand bend. But for me, it was somewhat shattering for my confidence. I can corner, I can descend (well, in a straight line…), but I can’t just let myself do it. It’s a very weird battle I end up fighting inside my own head. Anyway, that kind of confirmed how my day would go and it made me feel a little defeatist pre-race.
We hung out Saturday with our friends and teamies, got pizza, lapped up the atmosphere and relaxed before returning to the Airbnb. By the time we got back to our place I was feeling pretty damn rough and toying with the idea of not racing… I couldn’t tell 100% if I was feeling super rough, or if it was a bit rough mixed with becoming nervous. I wasn’t feeling particularly social and couldn’t get my dinner down properly – not ideal, mixed with the same questions being asked ‘what time do you want to get there?’ which is even more irritating when you’ve already answered it and you’re feeling hella rough.
I took a very early retirement to bed.
RACE DAY… it was an early start… so early it was still dark, yuk! We had to pack everything up and check out as we left for the race, which obviously, with parents involved becomes waaaaay more stressful than it actually needs to be. I took it upon myself to get my stuff sorted and stay away from everyone, I just couldn’t be dealing with the angst when I was already stressed and feeling considerably unwell.
On arrival, I dilly dallied for a while, chatting to a few people, re-thinking my life choices as the rain started.
When I started racing, I told everyone, ‘I would never race in the winter or cold.’ What an idiot I was. I tried to stuff more food in as my breakfast hadn’t been enough due to my lack of dinner. Little bits of banana, malt loaf and nibbles from a bagel – not exactly the food of champions... We opted for no rain jackets because lots of people said the rain wasn’t going to stick around, I also considered no warm-up as we had a few km’s of neutralised but decided best to spin out on the rollers as I wasn’t feeling great.
Turned out there was no need for a warm-up because we sat for 25 minutes being peed on by the clouds, at the gathering point, as the organisers tried to remove 26 cars from the circuit… WE WERE FREEZING.
We eventually got going and had to stop again at the start line for a ceremonial start, which was lovely and on a warm dry day would have all been very well, but in the pissing rain and cold, it was less than ideal. By this time, I couldn’t feel my legs and I’d given up hope. The neutralised part of the race started, and it was pretty rapid compared to what I was used too: no bad thing as it prevented crowding and sudden braking. I was trying to hold my place up front in the roll out, just to give me a better opportunity when they released us.
At kilometre zero we were released, the rain really falling and the left turn into the descent rapidly coming toward us. About 100m before we turned left another rider pushed me out and I clipped a cats-eye…. Giving me a fright as my wheel slipped and made a slightly concerning noise. It also meant I became a little misplaced from the spot I was trying to hold onto - that’s just racing, no complaints… everyone is hungry for that perfect position in the bunch.
Sweeping left into the descent the road was already like ice, with mud washed into the road and coating the surface. I tried to just stay where I was, people passed me as I followed a wheel and then before I knew it everyone in front of me had slammed on their brakes, and when I say slammed, I mean… slammed. I panicked and followed suit but by the time we’d got through the switch-back, the experienced riders (I assume that’s who they were – I never saw them again) had created a gap, the road rapidly changed into a very narrow farm lane, and we chased to get back on. By the time we were halfway down I’d found a spot on the back and carefully weaved up the bunch a little – much to my surprise, because I haven’t had the confidence to do this before.
The circuit then went left onto a beautifully swift and exciting road, and I moved up comfortably on the outside because there was so much space. I got to the front, top-20 or so of the bunch and then someone moved out onto me as we went to turn left again, which meant as I cornered, I had one pro-rider come across my wheel from the right and one from the left, almost causing each-other to crash, while swiping my wheel. I thought this was considerably unacceptable, and it also caused me to lose a few spaces and left me having to move up again.
I was comfortable in the bunch as we went along the rolling road, I was sitting on Hannah Barnes wheel, before turning right and descending toward Michaelgate, I was however toward the back end from my little mishap on the previous corner (not ideal for me as confidence in moving up is still lacking). As I got to Michaelgate I believe there was a crash (someone informed me afterwards) toward the back of the bunch, everyone was almost at a standstill… I knew I couldn’t unclip because I’d struggle to get going again, so I held a track stand as long as I could – my first ever! - before weaving my way through tiny gaps to pass people.
Michaelgate was my kind of thing… I flew up it, I knew I needed to re-catch the main group. I chased for ages; I did power PB’s chasing… Over the top I tucked down into an aero position and just drilled it to try and get back on.
I was within sight of the bunch as they turned left onto the descent again, I was always going to be a bit slower there, as the roads got more slippery my confidence diminished. Coming into the narrow lane, I was so nearly back on, as a car zoomed past me from the convoy, with two more in tow…. They were blocking me - there just wasn’t enough room to come past them and move up again and, to be honest, I didn’t have confidence in their driving… either way it wasn’t ideal.
By the time I got out onto the open road my chase had started again, one of the team cars offered a tow, as myself and one other were now stranded alone in a block head wind.
All that went through my mind was ‘sit as close as you can, you need it to feel uncomfortable and to keep looking through the car.’
It was short lived anyway, as the comms car came up and told him off… I mean what did it really matter? We were dropped, never going to win, and it would have been nice to move up seeing as it was half their fault for overtaking when they didn’t need to. Also, there was a team car video from the men’s race latter on that day and they were towing loads of people back on… Sort it out BC comms, its 2021! But for me, that was basically race over. No matter how hard I pushed on the front, the bunch would always be going quicker.
We picked up a few riders around the circuit and I was trying to encourage a paceline. A few times I flicked through for a turn, but no-one would/could come through, so I just stayed on the front. After a while my team car came past to check I was ok, with a thumbs up and a smile I reassured them I was actually fine, just a bit fed up.
Back up Michaelgate and I left the group I was with - it took them until the descent to catch back up, which meant more time hung out to dry for me. We started to work as a chain-gang for a while, which worked well, but it slowed us down somewhat as people got tired and the wind picked up.
I felt comfortable, like I could keep going like this for a good while. Don’t get me wrong, it was starting to hurt, and I was cold, but my mind was in the right place. My quads were so cold and numb I couldn’t feel them properly, but I wanted to continue.
After another lap a comms car came to let us know, we’d be pulled soon, which made everyone sit up. Part of me wanted to ride off and keep trying, and looking back, I should have continued! It turned out we had another two or three minutes before we were pulled, which is annoying. I guess the comms don’t compete (any-more) so they don’t understand the hunger to go until you’re literally not allowed.
By the time I got into the square I’m pretty sure I was getting hypothermia: I couldn’t feel any part of my body, I was shaking like a leaf, my lips were numb, my teeth were chattering, and lovely people kept asking if they could help. But all I needed was to find a family member with the van key!
The crowds were incredible, the atmosphere was like nothing I’ve ever experienced and the people cheering for me was unbelievable. I was happy when I finished: I don’t know if I was delirious or proud, I had, after all, started while feeling somewhat unwell…
Naturally, being a sore loser, I was gutted I didn’t get round. I was so angry at myself because I’d proven I had the strength. I just can’t let go of this overwhelming fear of cornering… even though I know how and I’m actually bloody good at it… sometimes! People keep telling me ‘You can train a skill (like cornering), but you can’t train power, you’re either a natural or you’re not.’ As the song goes, I’ve got the power, but I’m becoming increasingly worried I’ll never be able to put the plug in this black hole that’s sucking up my confidence.
I told James my power numbers and he said, ‘that can’t be right, I can’t even do that for that time,’ which upset me a little because of his lack of belief in me. Although actually, I know he believes in me the most. Maybe he’s jealous? This random girl he practically forced into cycling has come into his life and might have more power… Such is life, poor guy, but I know he has my back really.
I’ve taken a lot from this race. I know my weakness lays in something I can apparently train. I got to do THE National Road Race in my first year of racing, and within one year and 7 months of starting to ride a bike (I never owned a bike as a kid)… so it’s not all bad. My mind will always wander off to bad places and negative thoughts, but I’m working on it - I just have to remind myself of the positives.
It’s been a steep learning curved and great adventure so far. We’ll see what the future brings, but for now I’m off to hammer some confidence into myself in the off-season. I wonder what the course is going to be like for the National next year…
Ride bikes, eat cake, be happy :)
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