Round and round.. and round... etc

Super late post. Not through sheer laziness (well... maybe a little) but I've been waiting for something exciting to tell you all about. I've now done my first two races, criteriums to be exact, so this week I'm going to tell you all about the ups and downs, round and rounds and lumps and bumps of it. I've given up large chunks of my former life for this very purpose, and finally I'm here - living the dream, so to speak.

So how did it go? Well, race number one was interesting. I'll start from the very beginning. In case any of you aren't aware of all the jargon that comes alongside all the different kinds of bike and road racing a criterium [crit for short] is a short road-like race on a closed circuit, usually very technical with tight corners - run for a certain amount of time (between 40 mins to 1 hour normally) when a bell then rings signalling the last lap to five laps, this is when it all kicks off.

Now, I'd spent loaaaads of time researching crit techniques, tips and trawling forums for specific hints about the course I was racing (Kent Cyclopark). I'd watched Youtube video upon Youtube video. Researched the differences between men and women's crits, the differences between 1st & 2nd cat and 3rd & 4th cat races... The list goes on. I can tell you now, none of it helped. It only served to increase the load on my already shot nerves. So the night before, my parents come down, we have an Italian meal. I prepare all my stuff, laid out neatly on the floor. I sleep. I wake early, I eat a good dose of porridge, I get to the train early. I do everything right. I get to the Cyclopark. There are loads of women from my particular age group (it's an all-category race which means that as long as you're over 23 you could potentially be up against the best in your field) already there. I smile, I say hello, at this point I'm going to refer to one of my earlier posts about women's cycling and the catlike attitude surrounding it. Even my parents noticed the rather unfriendly atmosphere. Unfortunate start. So I make my way to the track and apparently there's a warm up lap, I had to check this with another rider... I thought the race had begun.

That man is pointing at the back of my head!

Warm up lap - not so good. Having never ridden this circuit, or at these speeds around such tight corners my lack of concentration, apprehension and nerves got the better of me. Hello tarmac, old friend. Some friendly ladies stop to check if I was OK, appreciated! I got up, brushed myself off and hauled myself back onto my steed, gunning it to make it to the start/finish on time. Once there the U16's were on their way and it was a short wait for the women to be unleashed. The time came. I was at the back of the group from the start, I fiddled with my cleat, I panicked, I hesitated on the first bend and I sprinted like hell to get back onto the back of that group... I have never been so surprised by the difficulty of a task so much in my life. You go faster, they go faster, you push harder, they get further away, there is no catching that group once they're gone, unless you're some sort of watt-fueled magician of the road.

So, with aching limbs from my crash (for which I needed an x-ray the day after.. nothing broken but my arms a very funny fluid-filled shape now!) I just pushed on forward. Feeling the pain as I battled with myself to push harder and harder to try to clear some of the gap between me and the other girls. It worked to an extent, I caught a couple of ladies, passed one. By the end I was ravaged, and happy enough to come in second to last place. It was a harsh, painful yet surprisingly pleasurable learning experience. Roll on the next race, a week later.

So I rock up, this time I decided to go for a less prepared plan, allow myself to be a little more relaxed in my preparation. I've not quite hit the balance, I left my arm warmers behind and it was Baltic  wet and extremely windy. Perhaps somewhere between strict prep and calm breeze might work well for the next one. Still, I arrived early enough for a cup of tea and a little more friendly banter with some of the other girls - seemed to be a much nicer crowd this time, I wonder to myself if this might be because it was specifically a lower-category race? Less tension in the air. This time I just took in deep breaths, realised I am capable of good speeds and allowed myself to concentrate harder on tactics rather than being sucked into the murky hole of nerves and doubt.

Hillgurning, the sexiest of all cycling faces.

This time was better. I managed about a lap with the group, could've done better on that front - it was actually my apprehension on "the crash corner" that let me lose the back end of the peloton. Unlucky, but I pushed, I knew I could do this. I ended up in a cracking group of four other lasses for the main duration of the race. We worked solidly as a team, through and off, doing our bit to get our girls closer to the break ahead of us. What a wonderful and humbling experience, this is racing, I might not be winning but this is the sport I've been dreaming of playing for so long. We had some stragglers up ahead in our sight, this was our chance, only.. we were so tired, we tried, one made it, I couldn't keep the others with me, we split - that was it, every woman for herself now. I pushed on. I was in the zone, a gloriously painful windbashing tunnel of doom and absolutely loving every second, I heard the bell ring in the distance and that was it. Time to turn up the gas. I throttled it, sweeping myself round every corner as gracefully as I could, sprinting every flat to try to catch someone, anyone that might be ahead. There it was, the final climb, I stood up and pushed my battered body up it, I saw in the distance another female. Who was she? I had no idea, had she fallen off the peloton or had she punctured? Had she perhaps just done a cooldown lap and already be finished? I didn't care, I didn't care if it was a place ahead or not, I finally had a goal, a chance to unleash what I've been working so hard for, my favourite activity in my world of cycling - SPRINT! It was on a gradient, ouch, edging closer I saw her look behind as she pedaled up to the line, the first look, then the second as she realised I was getting closer - boom, I hurtled past her and crossed the line.

That. Hurt. 12th out of 16 and more learning on board. I finished with a big smile, and a brew from my good pal and team mate Steve (thanks dude!).

So, what's the verdict? Well, if you haven't tried racing - give it a shot. All I can say is there is nothing else like it. All I know now is that it is all I want. I want to race my bike forever, for the rest of my life I want that feeling. To keep pushing, harder. I know I won't stop. Ever.