A Day Out Front

‘Nous sommes partis, c’est bien,’ were the words I heard as the rider in red with the tri colour bands on his sleeves came level before taking his turn on the front. As I settled into his slipstream I looked round expecting to see the bunch not far behind, but all I could see was empty road, where had everyone gone, moments earlier I was the last rider in the echelon before a line of 100 plus riders all sat in the gutter, all with the familiar 1000yard stare, an indication that the mind has left the consciousness, retracted itself into the deepest darkest depths of the skull in an attempt to ignore the pain being exerted on every sinew as your whole reason for being becomes the 23mm of rubber in front of you, for once I was not one of these people, I was not having to convince my legs the pain would stop, or that the rider on the front would tire soon, for once it was me who was in the ‘G-spot’.

Whilst in this wonderful place, where you feel no wind, but also do no work, I remembered the words an old pro once told me, ‘if you have the legs to go, go when it’s hardest, that way only the best can follow you,’ if the brief glance at the face behind was anything to go by, it was getting pretty grippy. As I sat there taking the draft, still aware of how hard the wind was lashing us, this thought kept repeating in my mind, I was ready. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and the echelon dragging the bunch along eased, this was the moment, my moment, I dropped my chain down two sprockets and preceded to do my best Fabian impression, launching myself in the right hand gutter aware of a rider on my wheel. After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was probably only more than a few seconds I eased up and pulled over at which point the fateful words were uttered, ‘nous sommes partis, c’est bien’.

As I looked across at my new ‘team mate’ for the day, the 1000 yard stare already closing over his eyes, I too could feel my mind shutting down in an attempt to hide the pain, for ours was the unenviable task of riding a team time trial alone in our own little world where every pedal stroke hurt and every slight incline is cursed, former national titles becoming irrelevant and every slight descent being an all to brief opportunity to take on some fluids and possibly eat, staring at our computers multi tasking by watching the kilometres drift away all too slowly whilst trying to keep our speed above 45kmph on the flat, playing our own little mind games, trying to convince yourself that the pain doesn’t hurt, yes I like you am mental. As the Commissare moto to the left read our numbers out across the race radio the stage was set for my first long break away attempt of the season and I settled into my new ‘team mates’ draft.

Now I have been trying to get into this position all season, for the last two months I have plugged away, followed moves, ridden in countless gutters and had my legs ripped off more times than I can care to remember, eaten well (often in the dark-don’t ask), trained hard and rested harder, and most importantly kept the faith and finally I had managed to make it into a half decent move off the front of the bunch, but boy could we have done with some support. With the usual Brittany weather lashing us with a nice cross wind and the prospect of another 55km en ligne where every turn would reveal a hitherto un ridden road for myself followed by 11 laps of what can only be described as a brutal finishing circuit which would make the Lincoln look like a walk in the park, we could have done with some more momentary ‘team mates’. Fortunately reinforcements were on the way as we soon found out via the Commissare moto, you see even the experienced French riders can be caught napping by cheeky moves made by foreigners.

As we were finally caught by the group behind I decided to take a much deserved sit on for a few kilometres. After this all too brief period of relaxation I found myself a nice place in the rotation, and got on with my ‘job’ for the day, with four team mates in the bunch it was important I remained in the break as long as possible to give them a free ride.

Arriving on the finishing Circuit in the Front Group

Cassettes whirred, chains clunked up and down the sprockets and riders tired, my mind wandered but we all settled into a rhythm, a group of 9 individuals connected with a common goal all rolling, all riding, all hurting, just trying to stay ahead. The gap eked out agonisingly slowly but eventually we had over a minute. The kilometres disappeared agonizingly slowly but as we approached the circuit I actually had good sensations. The usual attacks before the circuit never appeared and as we completed the first lap a rider attacked on a false flat after the finish, believing it to be too early he was left dangling off the front by the rest of the break for a lap before being returned to the group, a wasted effort which would surely be to his determent by the end of the race.

However the next time up the climb, things started to go wrong, I went from feeling brilliant to appalling and started going backwards faster than I have ever gone forwards, nothing my head could say to my legs made any difference, my legs probably realising finally that my head is a lying bastard, the extremities of my vision closed and I do not remember the next 2 or 3 laps, until I was caught by the group behind and my team mate tapped me from behind, I was done. As I went backwards through the groups I started to recovery slightly and began to realise how agonisingly close I had been to getting a good result, the break staying away, until I ended up in the last group with two other of my teammates. I rolled across the finish line, the race probably finishing minutes earlier a broken man, thinking of what could have been, I still however had a wry smile on my face, for those 70 or 80 kilometres I was off the front, I was in the mix all the hours of training and missed nights out (ok I don’t miss many) were worth it, and that as bike riders is what we live for.

Oh and I rode 2.5hrs home after the race as well.

Going backwards after being dropped from the break, I am in the little ring for gods sake!