At various points throughout the day youth, women, 4ths, 3rds, E12's and the Revolutions 5 day racers all got to sample Goodwood Aerodrome's windy 2.4 mile circuit. After a tortuous two hour drive from North London via the M25 I just managed to get to the circuit in time for the start of the 3rd cat race (20 laps - 48miles). Once Keith Butler got us going I was determined not to revert to type by attacking needlessly from the off. In fact the need to warm up meant any jumping around would be put on the back burner for a while. Fortunately the pace was comfortable from the start so it was easy to just chill at the back of the bunch . Hanging at the back is not something I'd generally recommend, but Goodwood circuit allows you to do that in the 3rd cat races.
At the front of the fifty or so riders the big fella from Der Ver, a Bayeaux Landscape rider and a couple of others occassionally tried their luck. The combination of headwind and a bunch with fresh legs meant nothing was gonna go and things pretty much stayed together for the first hour. By now I'd positioned myself a little closer to the front. When a couple of Velocity riders pulled away from the pack on the draggy bit it looked kinda promising so I jumped across. This brief bit of excitement was soon over and a lap later I found myself on the front. Mmm!! Peeps were lined up behind me but no one seriously fancied having a go. I swung off and allowed others to do some wind-catching. As the promoting club the Velocity duo were determined to show their colours and soon they were off again. Another game of follow the leader ensued and I shouted to them that "we've got a gap". Never one's to miss a breakaway opportunity an Agiskoviner rider soon joined us and our cycling quartet began to work together.
Despite working well the four of us didn't quite have it against the wind. To survive we were gonna need some help. Two and half laps later five more riders bridged across. Just to make sure they weren't gonna sit on I shouted "two lines; thru and off boys" and surprise suprise they complied. A few strong pulls here and there between myself and the Akiskoviner rider shook of any light weights and with five laps to go we were now a strong bunch of six. Sadly we had to say goodnight to the Velocity boys.
Myself and a Twickenham CC rider continued to cajole the group during the well executed through and off. Soon we were close to 45 secs on the bunch. With 3 laps to go the Pearsons rider announced "yes we're gonna make it'. So there we were - one Addiscombe, one Norwood Paragon, a Pearson, an I-Team, a Twickenham and one other rider. So far nobody had missed a turn apart from the Norwood Paragon guy. With two laps to go I needed to make a decision. These guys all had calves double the size of mine (not hard). Could I take the risk of a sprint finish? On the windy drags I'd occasionally pulled thru a little on the hard side just to see who had a real snap about them. Both the Pearson and the Agiskoviner guys looked strong. On the bell lap my mind was made up!... The Agiskoviner guy pulled thru and switched to the right; I was on the Pearson riders wheel as it was his turn to switch over. At this point we'd hit the windy draggy bit and I began sprinting - Hard! Yes people, it was time to go for a long one. Thirty seconds later I finally plonked my butt on the seat and began my Bradley Wiggins pursuit impression. The Pearsons rider was coming up fast. Perhaps he was 25 metres away. I clicked down to 53-14 and stomped harder. Again I looked under my arm to see if he was getting closer to me. Shhit! it was hard to tell.
My solo bid for freedom felt unbelievably hard. I could feel the "burn" as blood lactate swamped my thighs. What about the gap to the Pearsons Guy? I wanted to look back again but dared not. I tried to remove negative images from my mind (Hillingdon - twice reeled in on the final bend, Ockley last Sunday - our break was caught with less than 100 yards to go). At last the slight down hill section of the course, 53-13 was engaged... one man against five; my back couldn't get any flatter and I couldn't push any harder - things were very uncomfortable indeed. Finally I reached the chicane - 150 metres approximately from the line. I could see the small crowd to the right and the chequered flag. Forty metres to go and I was finally brave enough to look back.... Nobody There! In fact there was no one even close. Did I zip up my Addiscombe top completely and milk the moment? Of course I bloody did!! I Applauded the people back that were cheering me on (special mention to ACC's Chloe); then pointed to the name on the shirt and held up one finger as I crossed the line. Shhit I won and I won solo too. Goodwood was good for me!