Yesterday i did my first ever time trial - it was to be the hardest 10miles of my current cycling life.
My start time was 10:46 being rider number 46 i was in the middle of the pack of a starting number of 90, but 16 of them didnt turn up.
After a 10min warm up on the turbo, i rolled upto the starting grid as number 39 was leaving the station, i looked on as the countdowns ran down, then the starter asked for number 43, no one, then no 44 again no one, then 45 yet again no one, then it was 46 yup thats me, i roll upto the line knowing the last man went out 4mins ago, ah well no one to chase down then. Then it was 10, pause, 5,4,3,2,1 and im off.
Out of the blocks like a whale hitting the beach front, slowly i clicked through the gears and upto speed, the road rising slowly towards the r'bout and a left turn onto the carriageway.
Within what felt a matter of seconds i heard the whistling sound of a steam train, that was rider 47 going past like the wind and only done 2 miles, christ i thought.
Anyway i got into a nice rythm and lost lung number one, its ok i still had one left, so i thought. As the legs churned away the miles of tarmac disappearing under and only 4 miles gone, i blew lung number two, bugger all i got left now is will and detirmination.
Then we hit the flyover, left slowly rising up over the road below, around the r'bout and there was range rover man, he couldnt wait 5secs as he pulled out on me, causing heavy braking and a lil swerve (that campese would habe been proud of) then a quick left down the slip road and back onto the carriageway.
Both lungs blown, heart rate at 177bpm i start the climb towards home, the headwind pushing me back, speed rising, then slowing as i hit the short sharp ascents of the homeward bound slog.
Lactic was building in the legs, heart was pounding, spit was flying and the sweat was pouring down my face as i hit the 7 mile mark, the worst part of the race. It felt like i was climbing the eiger, legs kept pumping, speed slowing, no amount of gear drops was helping, as the the thighs were screaming. Up over the brow i could see the mile to go sign on the road. Little burst of extra will and i get to the r'bout, sharp left and 50yds to the finish.
As i crossed the line, my heart rate hit its max of 183bpm, i was dead, legs were dead, head was banging and my lungs were back at mile 4. I'd finished in 28mins 30seconds thinking what the hell had i just done.
But i do it all again in two weeks time.
My start time was 10:46 being rider number 46 i was in the middle of the pack of a starting number of 90, but 16 of them didnt turn up.
After a 10min warm up on the turbo, i rolled upto the starting grid as number 39 was leaving the station, i looked on as the countdowns ran down, then the starter asked for number 43, no one, then no 44 again no one, then 45 yet again no one, then it was 46 yup thats me, i roll upto the line knowing the last man went out 4mins ago, ah well no one to chase down then. Then it was 10, pause, 5,4,3,2,1 and im off.
Out of the blocks like a whale hitting the beach front, slowly i clicked through the gears and upto speed, the road rising slowly towards the r'bout and a left turn onto the carriageway.
Within what felt a matter of seconds i heard the whistling sound of a steam train, that was rider 47 going past like the wind and only done 2 miles, christ i thought.
Anyway i got into a nice rythm and lost lung number one, its ok i still had one left, so i thought. As the legs churned away the miles of tarmac disappearing under and only 4 miles gone, i blew lung number two, bugger all i got left now is will and detirmination.
Then we hit the flyover, left slowly rising up over the road below, around the r'bout and there was range rover man, he couldnt wait 5secs as he pulled out on me, causing heavy braking and a lil swerve (that campese would habe been proud of) then a quick left down the slip road and back onto the carriageway.
Both lungs blown, heart rate at 177bpm i start the climb towards home, the headwind pushing me back, speed rising, then slowing as i hit the short sharp ascents of the homeward bound slog.
Lactic was building in the legs, heart was pounding, spit was flying and the sweat was pouring down my face as i hit the 7 mile mark, the worst part of the race. It felt like i was climbing the eiger, legs kept pumping, speed slowing, no amount of gear drops was helping, as the the thighs were screaming. Up over the brow i could see the mile to go sign on the road. Little burst of extra will and i get to the r'bout, sharp left and 50yds to the finish.
As i crossed the line, my heart rate hit its max of 183bpm, i was dead, legs were dead, head was banging and my lungs were back at mile 4. I'd finished in 28mins 30seconds thinking what the hell had i just done.
But i do it all again in two weeks time.
