Rolling slightly apprehensively into a first recon lap on Saturday the rider infront of me bounced and tumbled down the very first sandstone drop. Hardly the introduction my jangling nerves needed, I now had to sit for several minutes peering over the stoney precipice while the medics helped the injured rider limp away. I periodically passed more walking wounded as I cautiously navigated the 3 mile lap.
In the stifling heat the amount of climbing was what realy stuck me. Long twisting gravel ascents frequently scattered with rock step-ups and occasionally roots. Some were so steep my chin was practically pressed against the handlebars. Even cruising up the inclines had sweat dripping off my nose and dribbling down the inside of my glasses. I took my second lap at a faster pace, the Hadleigh rocks finally claiming some blood. I cleared the big technical challenges, but misjudged a short series of craggy steps, cartwheeling over the bars landing in a crumpled heap at the feet of the amused marshall.
Another restless night in a swealtering hotel room followed, before race day dawned. I joined the gaggle of riders anxiously circulating waiting to be gridded in the blazing sunshine. An hour before midday it was seriously warm and the temperatures would soon be over 30 degrees. I lined up on the back row and was lost in the swirling dust as we shot away following the commisaires whistle.
Starting at the back you quickly loose time as we funneled slowly into a singlefile line between the rocks. I briefly dabbled with the very rear of the race after getting tangled in the tape lining the course on a corner of the first climb. On the longest and fastest descent I pulled back a couple of places and dug in deep on the next climb cutting inside some more riders on the hairpins.
The oppressive heat sapped the strength. It felt like a weight pressing down on your shoulders, pulling you back. I fought past another rider on lap 2 and desperately grabbed a bottle from my wife in the feed zone. I immediately glugged a big swig, desperate for hydration. It was lucky I had taken some advantage because the bottle leapt from the cage and went clattering over the rocks on the first descent.
My throat was as dry as a desert while every inch of my body was sodden with perspiration. I saw no-one ahead on lap 3 and those behind were dropping back. I began to think my position was settled provided I could make it to the line without heat exhaustion. My heart sunk as I passed the feed zone with no sign of my wife with a refilled bottle. Instead she stood on the first bend capturing my agony for Facebook!
I spotted three riders scattered across the climb ahead crawling up towards the blue sky. Fatigue building, my legs feeling heavy, I was genuinely surprised at the rate which I caught those in-front. They were unable to put up a fight and I was inspired to push on.
After crossing the line I downed every bottle of liquid my wife offered me, before devouring a beautiful greasy burger! I had finished 28th, a good result on a day when just completing the distance safely was an achievement in itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment