Oh, hi there… it’s been quite some time since I wrote a blog for myself.
Wow, what a season it’s been. A totally bonkers, incredibly tough at times and enjoyable (I think) season. I’d like to come on here and say I came away with exactly what I’d hoped, but the truth is, I didn’t.
I dream big, I suppose, but if you don’t, then who will and how will you test yourself.
As we know, my season started off rough, with a walloping crash and concussion. It took me about 4 weeks to get over the physical symptoms of that… which, feeling much better I thought it was done with. Some months down the line, I can confirm, that’s not how concussion works.
I struggled most of the season with fatigue and fitness and to be totally honest, I thought I didn’t have it in me to be a cyclist at the top level in the UK. My confidence continued to drop.
I couldn’t figure it out, why was it so hard. My coach said a few times ‘concussion takes it out of you,’ and of course me being me, I’d brush it off… I’m fine, it’s not that, something else is wrong.
During this I got some new work – which I absolutely love.
I crashed again in Stockton GP – I couldn’t react quick enough to avoid a crash. Damn that hurt, like stubbing your toe, but a million times worse! Sweet baby Jesus I cried – actually, I huffed and puffed like a lady in labour.
I thought I was okay, but the paramedic stuck me in the team car. Good job he did because, when I got my bike back, I’d snapped my seat rails… that wasn’t taking me anywhere ha.
I was sort of high on adrenaline, until the journey home and then I got stiffer and sorer. A hospital trip once home, confirmed I’d broken both of my elbows – nice one mate. I was so scared of hitting my head again, I’d balled myself up mid-air – summersaulted through it, and landed straight on my elbows on the edge of the curb. I mean… my elbows heal quicker than my head, right?
Three weeks after that race, we headed off to the Isle of Man for the MANX stage race – I wasn’t sure I’d go, right up until a few days before, I was so uncomfortable. I couldn’t hold my weight on the bike and potholes were torturous.
I was super nervous getting back into the bunch. The first stage was a small and sharp crit – my worst nightmare as it is, let alone with two broken elbows. I didn’t go particularly well. My brain works in a counter intuitive way – I get scared, so I sit at the back, where it’s probably riskier… but got round safely.
Stage two was a kermess style race – I decided I’d sit on the front, safely and keep the pace high to avoid choppy riding. Worked well and we came away with cracking results for the team. Stage three was straight to a TT; I’d never done a TT before, and I certainly wasn’t going to cope well with aero, considering I couldn’t hold my weight in the aero tuck – but came away with 14th and sitting 12th in the GC.
Stage four was a road race – the most horrific weather I’d ever experienced. Cold, wet, little visibility and sketchy. I sacrificed myself for the team early on and then spent the rest of the race climbing with my rear brake stuck on… which I didn’t find out until I finished, I thought I’d blown up completely. But all for the greater good of the team.
Onto Ryedale – damn I wasn’t going to go to this one.
I’d had some bad family news that week and I couldn’t get my head screwed on. I was in a pit of darkness and sorrow and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and be left to expire.
But, I went, and I did pretty bad – race wise.
My head was so far in the clouds I couldn’t think straight, I had anxiety through the roof and my descending was worse than usual – trust me, when I say it’s usually atrocious – this was painful to watch.
But I stuck in there until a lap and half to go and then cracked and rode in on my own… poor show, but to be honest, if most other people had got the news I’d had that week, I don’t think they’d have even started.
I only really started as the team needed someone to drive them… and if I’m there, I may as well try.
Shortly after this I retired from my season, I couldn’t take any more stress or pressure and I couldn’t fit the hospital visits, working full time, training, and racing into my schedule.
Also, I had well and truly blown up mentally. But that’s okay, it’s okay to take time for yourself – so I’ve learnt.
I took a couple of weeks away from my bike, went to the countryside for my birthday and then returned to it nice and easily. My training schedule changed to winter base once I got going again and strangely, I came into some good form. Which is when I realised, I was not only struggling from mental stressors, but I’d obviously still been struggling to get back to fitness after my concussion and second crash.
Oh, and on top of that – my power was down as my power meter was falling off and once replaced with the same brand, I was miraculously stronger – which, also contributed to me cracking mentally. Training so hard, but it had seemed so much harder than it used to be.
Anyway, now I’m learning to take care of me, to get the best out of myself, my winter should be good – minus the cold.
I still have hospital visits to make, but I get to add in the fun part – GYM! And I’m finally finding time to see the osteopath and get help with my scoliosis, which should help with strength on the bike and, prevent me from problems as I get older.
So, no, I didn’t have the season I wished for. I went through two horrible crashes, various mechanicals and life stress. BUT I’m still here… fighting for more, finally enjoying my training again and seeing some progress and I hope that will bring some good things my way next year.
For now, you’ll have to endure me moaning about the cold! Or the turbo… I’ll moan about them both for the next few months.
See you on the other side.
Ride bikes, eat cake, be happy.
P.S. she went to Curlew Cup and
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