If your eyes aren't bloodshot you didn't try hard enough

This is a little joke between Sam and I which speaks volumes for both my black sense of humour and the nature of bike racing. Monday was one hell of a rodeo for me but I more or less clung on for dear life and got round. Me being me, I decided to get in the break of the day on my first race back after being off colour last week. Luckily the riders I had for company weren’t up to much – amateur champion of France, two from a feeder team to Europcar, three from division one teams and the local tank with five wins to his name – so I didn’t suffer at all.

Attacking the Amateur Champ of France... Hahaha kidding!

It felt like I was stuck in second gear all day and the other boys were definitely foot-to-the-floor in fifth. We pulled out a minute on a 170 strong bunch in less than 10km, which gives you racers out there an idea of the tempo.

Take that dehydration!

We were in front for 110km and I was swinging for approximately 109km, but some of the other riders who know me quite well now thought I might be sandbagging to save energy. I think they got the point when I hurled that the grimace was real.

My (pain) face for the day.

With 25km to go the bunch was snapping at our heels and on the climb I went out the back door as attacks shot off the front. From there it was a case of sitting in the strung out peloton and enjoying the view from 100 riders back. By the time I crossed the line I was half asleep on the bike.

I'm not certain, but I think I was crying a bit at this point.

Although 115^th place is hardly going to get the Directors knocking on my door I’m happy with what I achieved. Firstly, I showed that I’m tactically astute enough to get in the right move, and strong enough to stay there even on a bad day. Secondly, it’s proof that I can still suffer like a hound-dawg at this point in the season when a lot of riders are winding-down, cracking-up and generally just hating life. I’m looking forward to feeling at one with the bike again this weekend at Agglo Tour!

Peaks & Troughs

Fair warning: Today could be a philosophical one! I’ve been suffering with some fatigue over the past week and so there’s not really any racing content to be spoken of.

A peak.

Cycling, like life, has ups and downs and I’ve found that the lows often come immediately after the heady heights of success: it’s a long way to fall! Over the last week my body has been telling me things along the lines of “I’m tired, Doug” and “Why are you making me do six hours today, you nutter?” Yes that’s right, I have an inner monologue now. But being an athlete of the most pig-headed variety (a cyclist) I persevered. Cycling can be such a strange sport in the demands it makes because the key personality trait that allows you to improve - stubbornness - can also be your downfall if you’re not careful.

A trough.

Luckily I have my coach who knows me inside out. JB from TrainSharp.co.uk is a master in ‘crisis management’ as he calls it. Looking back over the last five weeks during which I’ve raced fifteen  times (including two stage races) it’s not hard to see that the workload has been heavy, but of course hindsight is crystal clear and cycling is not generally a sport for pure analysts and thinkers, it’s a sport for doers.

A peak.

You have to be a strong character to get up every morning, go out there and get it done, but a lot of people thrive on that hard graft, the brutality of getting your head kicked in every day in a stage race. I think of myself as one of those people, a good sufferer. Maybe one of the best, one day, because that’s what the professionals get paid for. But sometimes you also have to be strong and know yourself well enough to say: “No, I need another day to recover. I need a little more time because my body is telling me it needs to rest”. That is what I am doing today by taking the day off and not racing. I am trying to be strong by doing what appears to be weak.

Another trough.