Every race day starts with a routine. Belgian races typically start at either 3pm
on a weekend or 6pm if they’re on mid-week.
This is probably the best part about Belgian racing. It allows you to get up after the sun has
risen and leisurely get ready for the days exertions. This is in comparison to England where you
typically have to watch the sun rise whilst doing 85 down the motorway to get
to sign on before it closes at 8am… And now you know why I’m here! Porridge is
the staple of a bike rider’s diet, every morning I dine like a peasant on this
super food. Then it’s on to cleaning the
bike, sure it will be dirty within 10km but a clean bike is as much about
having a race ready mentality as it is about the machine actually working. Finally it’s onto 3 hour pasta… pretty much
what it says on the tin, it’s plain pasta eaten roughly 3 hours before the
start. The drive to the race always
takes in a visit to my local bakery in Olen to purchase some last minute tarts,
essential race food you know!
Saturday was to be my first race back after Wednesday nights
crash. I was happy enough that the
ibuprofen had worked its magic so I set off for the town of Sint-Niklaas for
stage 1 of the 2 day race, pulling in for a brief pit stop to take on the days
choice of sustenance… a Frangipane tart.
I had a slightly awkward moment upon arriving when I struggled to get
parked, finally finding a place outside the windows of a local nursery. At first the kids gathering at the window was
a humorous distraction until it came to getting changed… there were no changing
rooms meaning it was to be an undignified wriggle in the car as I tried to
shield the seemingly engrossed youngsters from catching an eye full of a semi
naked bike rider. Thankfully I saved
face with a well-positioned flannel and managed to keep my name on the start
sheet as opposed to a very different kind of register. Onto the race then, 19 laps of a ‘D’ shaped
course, a sector of cobbles every lap and rather ridiculously, a curb that the
entire field had to hop over each lap… only In Belgium! The pre-race
reconnaissance paid off as half the field ploughed into the curb on lap 1, no
crashes thankfully but a ‘you’ve been framed’ moment none the less. The cobbles were taking their toll on my
bike, Lap 4 saw both my bottles jump out of their bottle cages, I managed to
lodge 1 between my knees and avoid a pile up at the same time… 19 laps and down
to 1 bottle after just 4… it was time to ride like a camel. The races main break pulled clear rather
frustratingly at the half way mark. I
planned a counter attack and by the 70km mark I was in hot pursuit with 5 other
riders. A break away succeeds or fails
on its compilation, of the 6 of us, 4 were working well. Sadly one rider at the back insisted on
sitting on, avoiding his share of the work and then doing a ferociously fast
turn once a lap. We exchanged a barrage of insults in atleast 3 languages before all but giving up our pursuit of the group in front. Sadly this
inconsistent pace put pay to our efforts and we were reeled in by the bunch
after 10km or so. I gathered my strength
and made a surge with 40km to go to get across to yet another counter
attack. My legs were starting to feel
better after a poor start so I clicked down 3 or 4 gears, riding across the 10
seconds gap and settling into a chase of the leaders. With 30km to go it was clear we had rid
ourselves of the Peloton behind. There
were 11 in the move, surely enough to catch the 12 riders in the lead. I pressed on hard at the front, I had a team
mate with me to drive the pace but out of the 11 only maybe 5 of us were fully
committed. The 3 riders from Bianchi
were relying on their sole representative in the front group meaning they were
missing their share of the work. We rode
the last 3 laps with no great urgency, the leaders were in no danger of being
caught, and we were in no danger of being caught by the peloton. In the end we were left to sprint for the minor
placing’s. My team mate jumped away in
the last kilometre leaving me blocking on the front. I hit out with 250 metres to go with 8 riders
on my wheel, one rider passed me in the gallop for the line leaving me with a
respectable 34th for the day.
It was by far my hardest fought 10 euros of the season as I’d tried
everything and spent half the race in various moves. A quick mention for my old room mate Mike who
rode unselfishly and got a deserved 37th in the race.
Onto stage 2 then, which was weirdly on Monday. God bless the organisers who felt us under 23’s
needed a rest day after Saturday. The
race was started under pleasant sunshine, the wind had changed slightly meaning
the headwind finish from Saturday had been replaced by a strong tailwind for
the finish. I felt great early on, my
time to shine came on lap 4, five riders sped away into the distance followed
by another 6… I was sat around 30th wheel but it was now or
never. I raced up the side of the bunch,
passed the first rider and sprinted off down the road. The gap was around 15 seconds to bridge up to
the breakaway which had by now combined and was pulling away into the distance. I kept my speed above 50kmp/h in the pursuit
and by the time I was closing in on the break I was panting like a dog in a hot
car. I finally made contact with a last
gasp sprint going into the races hairpin.
In my state of exhaustion I made a dogs dinner of the hairpin. I entered it too fast; Instead of latching
onto the wheel in front I braked heavily and lost half a dozen bike
lengths. This was it, the move that
could give me my first top 10, I delved into the suitcase of courage but the
riders at the front kicked too hard out the corner, I was already well untruly
on the rivet of the saddle. I had been
in the break no more than 5 seconds before being spat out. Inevitably the break pulled clear, it was
agonizing to watch. I spent a couple of
laps recovering before spending the last 60km peppering the bunch with some
strong attacks. Sadly I never got a successful
counter attack going and eventually rolled over 32nd. It was a case of what could have been, I had
probably the best legs of my career but I honestly couldn’t have given any more
to make the break. I got a token gesture
of 10 euros for my efforts but at heart I knew this could have been the
one. On the plus side if I continue to
improve at this rate I am confident I can nail the top 10 in the near
future.
A quick shot of me and my team mate trying to get across to Saturdays winning break... unsuccessfully. Image credit: Isle cyclingpics.
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