A goal I’d heard regularly - lots of people I’d met had wanted to race The Tour Series for many years and I guess I never really understood it because I wasn’t into racing yet. However, now I understand it.
I’m very lucky, I was given the opportunity to race it in my second year of racing and what an experience it has been, a crazy and questionable one at times but a fantastic one all the same. I was very privileged to be given the opportunity by my team.
I’d wanted to go in and do more than I was able too, I’d had this goal of going in ‘ready’ and showing the world what I was capable of and everything just clicking into place, but obviously, it’s cycling and that never happens.
Two days before the first round we travelled to Belgium to race and I’d come down in a fairly high-speed crash, that I just wasn’t able to stop or get out of the way of. We’d hit a little descent before a sharp ascent – I was moving up as spaces were opening and I’d slid back a bit too far. A rider mid-pack lost control of her bike and took out about 1/3 of the bunch – scattered all over the road, including myself and a teammate (who is also suffering with concussion and we send all the love to her). I’d heard the clattering and slammed on my brakes - it was like dominos, but we were moving too fast to be able to stop, I couldn’t even move out of the way as people were all over the road in a pile u - where's the video when you need one for you've been framed.
In hindsight, that was the exact reason I’d changed my mind about racing in Belgium that weekend, I wanted to focus on The Tour Series and be good for it and I’d had a gut feeling it wasn’t the right choice to go to Belgium. But, at least I’ve got my first crash out of the way I suppose – although mildly scarred by the process.
Unfortunately, this left me with concussion, whiplash, and sore ribs, which I had naturally downplayed and put down to me being soft. I’d driven us home from Belgium that night and ended up feeling so horrendous that I slept for about 19 hours on the Sunday – unusual for me. I told myself I’d decide on the first round of Tour Series on the day of the race – Monday, but deep down I knew I was doing it.
Round comes Monday and we set off for Scotland, the drive near on killed me, I was so uncomfortable and tired, and I had an eye watering headache – dohhh RED FLAGS DANNIE. Actually I couldn't decide if I was just super nervous.
Anyway, in true Dannie style we arrived and off I went to get ready to race, I’m not sure what I expected but I wanted a lot.
Everyone said to me ‘position is vital’ so of course, I was late to the start line and at the back – not ideal considering my lack of health.
The motorbike pulled off to take us on our neutral lap, we hit the first corner and there was a crash – one which people seem to get confused about and stop instead of scoot around… I tried to squeeze through a gap and in that moment someone a few people in front of me had blinked back to reality and started trying to squeeze through at the same time… obviously that wasn’t going to work. So, we spent the rest of the neutral chasing back on.
I’d got myself back into the bunch but was feeling the anxiety of crashing, the strange lines people were taking on the corners and the random slamming of brakes. I popped myself onto the back, unfortunately there were a few people losing wheels and I was having to close the gaps – you lose a wheel and you’re done, literally, it is so quick there is no time to lose wheels.
Anyway, I spent five or so laps dangling off the back in a comfortable place, too scared to get onto the bunch through fear of crashing – needless to say, that weenie crash has knocked me back a bit. After that I stopped chasing out of the corners and held onto my gap in TT mode – but strangely I don’t think I was gassed…. I was comfortably uncomfortable.
In the group it was: go fast, hit a corner, sprint out of every corner, continue to go hard and suffer some more... surprise huns, no time to recover if you weren't on the front.
I was picking riders off. I eventually formed a group of riders who were being dropped, a few of them tried to pull turns but I was happier sitting on the front in my own zone, holding one pace and choosing my own line for the corners – which might I add, were good lines according to a friendly face.
We sprinted for the finish, and I was happy to take that little win for 30th – not great, not even good and not what I wanted, but I suppose when I look at the circumstances, it’s not horrendous… especially after sitting in TT zone for a while.
We had a rest day between two rounds, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so concerned for my own health… I felt nasty.
Wednesday came around and we drove to the next location, which was about an hour away, I slept most of the journey, and I didn’t even wake in the morning until 11am… not normal and I knew that.
I rode the course when we got there, and I’m not sure I’ve ever had such little confidence in a ‘get round’ job. I’d been put on the grid for this race, which in theory meant I’d be able to stay near the front. I’d joked how embarrassing it would be if I still got dropped….. LOL.
I was even more scared when we got going, I’d find myself a gap, get squeezed and slink out of it through fear of falling again – I am soft ladies and gents, I am soft and squishy.
I’d slipped to maybe… 20-30? The front group mid pack and I was working to be there because the corner came round so quickly I had nowhere to make up speed. I kept taking the corner wrong, I just couldn’t comprehend all these ladies in such a small place, I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t focus – oh wait, my head was failing me, I wasn’t just completely sh*t.
It took me a little while to realise what was going on. Then it hit me, my eyes felt like they were flickering, and I felt like I couldn’t see straight or focus… I felt like I was on a merry go round being spun like mad. After the sharp corner the road would take us into the sun for another left hander – when I tell you I couldn’t see… I COULD NOT SEE, I was struggling without the sun, let alone with direct sun in my eyes.
I’d then started to acquire this… brain freeze like headache all over my head, it was a cold feeling, but it hurt – I’d never experienced this before, and it scared me. I felt sick, I couldn’t get my HR to chill, or my breathing and I kept reacting too slowly when braking for the corner, so much so I was ending up locking up my rear wheel.
That’s when I decided enough was enough, I couldn’t do this, I was either going to harm myself or someone else and that wasn’t acceptable. So, I eased off, pulled myself away from the group (although probably would have been spaticus even on a good day – don’t worry, not backing myself too much ahah) and pootled round.
I really wanted to climb off, curl up in a ball and sleep, but I decided I needed to keep riding round, in case I became the third rider for the team. It’s a team race so the first three riders count toward the result.
I was picking people up on my way round, only this time I was slipping away from them – I couldn’t focus on a group with unpredictable people.
I finished, I finished basically last, but I knew that was going to be the case – although it didn’t stop me being annoyed at myself.
Off we went home, and I spent eight days asleep in a dark room, suffering, feeling like I was outside my body watching it shrivel up and go into a state of hibernation. My headaches got worse, my nausea continued, the sensitivity to light worsened and I thought I was going to end up in hospital. I didn’t watch TV, or any screen for days. Then one day, I woke up and I felt a bit more normal, and the relief was insane… although I was still worrying about the fact, I should have maybe had a brain scan, so I knew for peace of mind it was all Gucci.
‘Yes Watto, don’t worry I’ll be dandy for the next two rounds,’ and here we are… 15 days after my last race and I’m still not right on the bike. Although, I do feel like a bog-standard human finally – progress, but I’m now a sub-standard athlete.
I missed my other target race as well – Lincoln GP and I’m gutted, I really wanted to do that race. I’m angry at myself for not listening to my instincts, and for then not listening to my body. All I’ve done is come away with a mediocre result and an even more injured brain.
So yes, The Tour Series is extraordinary, it’s an insane experience and one that I’ve so far not experienced to its full potential - there is always next year. I hope to be able to make at least the last round, but who really knows at this stage, I’m taking it day by day and happy to be alive and kicking.
I struggle with headaches if I train above 160bpm, I don’t know what that really means or when I can commence racing and training properly, or if it’ll affect it… in the words of my doctor ‘I’m not qualified to answer those questions for you,’ which isn’t ideal – especially as he can’t refer me to a specialist to have those questions answered. But I’ll write a concussion blog soon… maybe with some more information for anyone who is or has sadly experienced it themselves.
But know this, I have had concussion previously from rugby, and this was like nothing I have ever experienced and I’m not even sure I hit my head that hard… every individual person responds differently to concussion, so no answer is right for everybody. This also means that you need to use your brain and really think about how you’re feeling, you can’t push through this... trust me, I tried, a concussion is a REAL DAMN LIFE brain injury, and it is no joke - even though, when you tell people you have concussion they think nothing of it.
Over and out darlings, for now, I'll be found in the garden. Take care, your body is part of your life.
Ride bikes, eat cake, be happy :)
Comentários