Basking for a good hour on a wall outside the library, I could hardly have been more relaxed or content. It had been a rough week, recovering from some sort of low-level virus that had kept me mostly off the bike. Many of the riders had been at Gifford, so idle banter rather than laser-like-focus was the preparation, and a spinning lap was the warm-up.
I had overheard that the race was going to go hard from the off, so I was mindful of gaps as we ascended for the first time. For once, it felt like I was doing some work, and I was glad of it - what was tough for me would be unbearable for others, and once fatigue started to set in, a break could go.
Purely on the basis of pace, I expected the fight to go out of the bunch and the break to get away with somewhere between 5 and 3 laps to go, but I wasn't rigid with how I interpreted this. On lap 3, almost a dozen riders were away off the front as we came across the flat, a stiff breeze slightly behind us. It was enough to encourage me to bridge, but the gap was closed almost as soon as I got across. Not a wasted foray, as I now knew that the top road was far from a good place to attack.
With six to go, I pushed the pace up the hill, for the dual reasons to clawing back another break going nowhere and to start tiring the bunch, in preparation for the final selection.
Four to go, and it was time. A group of 3 got just enough of a gap off the front of the bunch to make it worth it, so I slipped out of the back of the peloton and repositioned myself in the middle of the road to attack on the steepest part of the course.
Almost inevitably, just as we got there, a BMW came the other way, and for once I was praying for the car to accelerate. It seemed to take forever to get past the bunch, and as soon as its tail-light passed my bar, I was away.
Carrying momentum through up the hill, I flew off of the front of the bunch. With no chase left in them, I knocked the pace back slightly and chased onto the leaders by the top of the hill, joined by a few others to make a break of nine, which swiftly became eight.
A lap of sustained pushing was all it took to get safely clear, but it was enough to warn me that I couldn't take the finish for granted. I wasn't the only one working hard, but others did seem to be finding it easier. Nevertheless, I had too much pride to ever skip a turn. It would be good training anyway.
We worked with a good rhythm through the next two laps - not too difficult, but confident that we could stay away and all get points for our troubles. It wasn't until the last third of the last lap that the games started.
I'm not ashamed to admit that I didn't know how to play this. The run-in was along the flat section, with the finish line on top of a small rise which I knew from experience was tough to lead up from the front. Nevertheless, I couldn't seem to soft-pedal enough to fall back. Second wheel as we came into the base of the climb, I was fully off the pedals waiting for the attack. Bad move.
When it came, it was far enough and fast enough that I couldn't catch it, having robbed myself of all momentum. The riders on my wheel were able to continue the jump, but I was out of it, finishing in seventh.
I can't be unhappy with the outcome, today. A great race, in good conditions. Properly difficult. Tactically, I was aware enough, and physically I was fit enough, to bridge to the correct break and guarantee myself some points. Crucially, though, I gained more experience. My failure from the ending set-piece was clear and unambiguous - and regardless of whether I know how to win from a similar situation now, I certainly know one play to avoid if I don't want to lose.
Here's hoping I get many more chances to practice.
No comments:
Post a Comment