I turned up more for a couple of hours race pace training than looking for a good result, having been coughing up my lungs ever since Christmas. So I said as much to one of my ongoing mtb rivals, a certain Chelmer Cycles rider. He took it in the spirit one generally does when confronted with an acknowledged rival attempting to put in a range of excuses on the start line. However, he was gridded, having done well in the 40+ 2 hour races in the series, so chatting to him meant that I managed to secure myself a gridded place without anyone noticing.

I got my trade mark explosive start – often followed by exploding lungs about 3 minutes later – but this time I felt good, flying past Chelmer Cycles and catching Alex Christians who was clearly taking it steady after crashing at the start of the last race. I went past, offering a few choice words of encouragement, but he came past me again on the next stretch of fire road. But he stayed only a few riders ahead and, soon held up in the singletrack by the rider in front of him, I took a detour into the rough stuff to get by him once again although he was soon past for good and disappearing into the distance.

Half an hour into the race I was nearing the end of the first lap, enjoying the dry, twisty but fast course, not coughing at all and still feeling good though my heart rate was hovering at a constant 164 (93% of my max). Chelmer was still behind me so I thought I’d at least complete the first lap ahead of him even if I then backed off. In fact he passed me on the final climb and pulled away as we started our 2nd lap. I was expecting to start suffering but it didn’t come and I spent the next 2 laps having mini-battles every now and again, whilst trying to ride smoothly and not get delayed by the sometimes heavy traffic in the single track sections.

As I finished the 3rd lap I saw Chelmer in the distance ahead of me and put in a big effort to catch him, which I did with about 2/3 of a lap to go. I tried to keep silent behind him but he heard me clatter over some roots and took a swift peek saying “Oh no, I thought it was you”. I said to him (mindful of my claimed illness on the start line), “come on lets pace each other and if we’re together at the end I’ll let you through as you’re looking for series points”. He said something like “nah, that wouldn’t be racing” so I left it there, although planned to follow that anyway.

We passed a few backmarkers and 4 hour riders. As we got to a short but sharp sandy fire road climb he said to a 3rd rider we had caught ”Go on, you’re faster than me here”. At this moment, race instinct kicked in and I gave it everything I had left in order to attempt a gap and see what happened. This succeeded – so well that I managed to put another rider between us before entering the next singletrack. Knowing there was only 5 minutes or so left I kept going as hard as I could, more in a spirit of experimentation than anything else, but noticed I had maintained the gap into the hardest section of the course, aptly named the Plumbuster. After that there was a short big ring climb where I looked behind and my rival couldnt be seen so I gave up any thoughts of Armstrong/Pantani on the Ventoux and kept going hard until over the line. Chelmer rolled in 15 seconds later. Not happy. It really wasn’t intended as gamesmanship, but I know how it looked. All I can say is that when you’re racing you take split second decisions which on subsequent calm reflection, you might regret.

All in all, I was chuffed to have enjoyed the race immensely, maintained a good pace without fading and ridden at an average HR of 158 for 2 hours 20 min without feeling like death. Back to my old self again! And it was nice to roll in 10th out of 104. Mind you, those 4 hour riders – Werner, David, Abi, Douglas – how do they do that? Respect.