So this is it, the dawn of a new era in my relatively new found obsession ‘Cycling’ or more specifically the niche area of specialisation that is ‘Road Racing’. Just half a dozen races ago I was a virgin racer with absolutely no idea. Now I am sitting on 9pts and still have no idea!
I jest, for months I have been following a strict diet of instruction and training prescribed to me in 4 weekly blocks by ‘Blofeld’. There are those amongst you who know the cerebral sadist, a man of very few spoken words for he is a legend amongst men and a master of the more deadly written word. Most communications between us are conducted electronically but every time his instruction hits my inbox, I visualize his quite figure sitting on a sumptuous leather bound Herman Miller chair behind a large solid hardwood desk gently stroking a much loved fluffy cat laying on his lap in the very tall CW Towers.
I could go on to say that at Hillingdon on Saturday Nic Knack and Odd Job came in support of my quest but then that would just be a bit silly. In fact Chloe the Cover Girl came to watch having just banged out an impressive 5 km run at the Banstead Woods time trial together with Paul who has everything I haven’t –Hair, Good Looks, Youth and an Italian Bike! This was Paul’s first outing to Hillingdon so I primed him a little on the typical scenarios that are played out weekly.
I had had a bit of a mare’ish morning what with leaving Caterham half an hour later than I wanted, my zip breaking on my Addiscombe Club Shirt and my coms giving up the ghost despite a new battery. So, I popped a gel and hit a shorter than usual warm-up, bear chested and with no way of monitoring Heart Rate, Cadence or Time. Twenty minutes later, on the line I popped another gel and fired myself up into the zone. I wanted it and I wanted it bad!!!! 1 point was all I needed but I wanted to graduate to Cat 3 in style! I told myself I was better than these two bit untrained punks! I was the man…..grrrrrrrr!!!!!!!
We set off, approx 25-30 riders and a number of them now familiar faces. It would be an hour and then 3 laps engineered so as not to clash with the E123 race. I took the front for a lap or two and sat in the first five for the majority of the race. No coms, No Zip, No Sweat!
A somewhat experimental side of me was saying I could just wheel away from the bunch and go it alone but that was just the gel talking. I sat in and waited and waited and waited. I developed numbness in my right hand, quickly observing this as a sign of weakness I promptly shook it off. The commissionaire looked at his watch and over to the far side of the track to see where the E123’s were. This was a sign to me that they were going to call the 3 laps very soon. Another lap and they shouted 3 laps to go! Immediately the entire bunch tensed and drew closer to one another. Then the bell rang and I received my instant hit of adrenaline, my fuel, my drug, my weapon. I stepped out and took some wind in order to gain some position on the gusty straight and get where I wanted to be for the final break and uphill sprint for the line.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I shouted as I exploded into a sprint. I passed all but one as I chased him to the line. No one was coming past me, especially the three Paragons or the guy with the uncool black stocking on one leg. I settled for best looser [size=150]2nd.[/size] All the points I needed job done. I picked up my winnings and hit the bar for tea and cake along with Chloe and Paul and a feeling of deep joy.
Thanks to all those that made this happen and thanks for reading.
Scott
[img]http://i28.tinypic.com/261c0ft.jpg[/img]